Episode 12: A One Way Street
CONTENT WARNING: General unease, Distorted voices, Unreality
Transcript
Intro
(Phone) Arlo Thorn
There's no people to be seen, but I know there are those lost creatures everywhere.
(AM Radio) Narrator One
A soft orange glow.
(Phone) Arlo Thorn
They really do make you think there's no one in town but you. But there must be more people, regular people. There has to be. I can’t be the only one.
(AM Radio) Narrator One
A one way street.
(Phone) Arlo Thorn
But when no one is around like this, it’s hard to keep telling yourself that. The words start to lose their meaning. You start to sound like the lost. You start to believe that maybe you're one of them.
(AM Radio) Narrator One
Seen then unseen.
(Phone) Arlo Thorn
And you know no one watches you. But they keep repeating the things that others do and say and feel. Some of it you know, most you don’t. And you wonder if before, before you were here, did they watch you too?
(AM Radio) Narrator One
You reach the ocean.
(Phone) Arlo Thorn
At some point though, you do have to come to the conclusion that there’s no one here. Nobody else. Just you. And the only thing you can think of is how to get out. Well I think I’ve found a way.
(AM Radio) Narrator One
The steady orange glow above you changes.
(Phone) Arlo Thorn / Narrator One
The streetlight above flickers and turns blue.
Intro Music
Story One
(Bad Overhead Speaker) Narrator One
“That boy can see us.”
The little girl in the loose fitting dress whispered to the boy in the tight sweater. The cat on their laps twisted into a more comfortable position.
“Of course he can see us, we were sitting on a bench right out in the open.” The boy in the tight sweater said to the girl in a normal voice.
“No I mean see us. Us, us. Probably can hear us too.”
The boy in the lab coat stared at the two from the confines of the blue light.
The two children stared at the boy.
The cat got up from where she was laying, stretched and stared at the boy as well.
The boy in the lab coat looked ragged. His hair was a mess, dirt under his finger nails and dried blood on his pants. He smelled like he hadn’t had a wash in weeks. The only thing of his that had been kept pristine was his white lab coat. Although, how he had done that the two could not fathom.
“It’s rude to stare you know.” The girl yelled as she scratched the cat on the head. “If you have something to say, just say it.”
“Or move along.” The boy in the tight sweater added petting the cat on the back. “We have no business with you.”
The boy in the lap coat continued to stare.
“Your, your talking. And, uh, moving. How, why, how are you doing that?” The boy took an involuntary step back. The boy in the tight sweater and the girl in the loose dress looked at each other then back at the boy, then up at the blue light.
The two on the bench pause their attention on the cat. The cat impatiently bumps her head on both their hands.
“Do you know what you're standing under?” The girl says, breaking the silence. “What it does?"
Was this boy not one of the Author's victims? The girl thought. Was he not like us? Could he roam free?
The boy pointed up “The streetlight?”
“Yes the blue light, do you know what it is?” The boy in the tight sweater elaborated.
“Well it teleports you to an inverse world where there's no sound. The blue light is controlled with radio frequencies, or more accurately the different pitches of white noise and-”
The girl held up her hand.
“Wait, wait, wait.” She shook her head. Inverse world? No sound? And what were radio frequencies? All there was on the other side of that blue light was a empty void where all the victims of the Author were kept and contained. Only the Author had control on the coming and going. How was this boy doing this? Unless he was being tricked, tricked into thinking he had control.
“Slow down.” The girl then said. “What are you talking about? What are radio frequencies?"
The boy in the lab coat eyebrows shot up, his eyes widening.
“Radio frequencies? The signals the radio gets to be able to hear the radio.” The boy answers slowly.
The two on the bench looked at him blankly. The cat went back to laying on their laps, eyes still fixed on the boy.
“What is a radio then?” The boy in the tight sweater asked. The shock is plain on the other boy's face.
“What’s a-” The boy paused. “A radio?”
The two on the bench nod.
“Yes, that's what we asked.” The girl said.
“Oh, well, it’s, uh. Well it's this!”
The boy in the lab coat pulled a metal box out of his pocket. It has dials on it like a phonogram. But it was much, much smaller. And there was no place to put a music cylinder. The boy then pulled a long metal stick out of the box. He then pressed a button on the side.
A noise like rocks being rubbed together came out of the box. They both covered their ears. The boy turned a wheel on the side of the box and the sound got quieter, so now it was a low rumble.
“This is a radio. It takes these signals, or uh, sounds that travel in the air and lets you hear them.”
The boy pointed to the metal stick at the top as he said this.
“Then you can hear stuff like this.” He turned a dial and the rumbling sounds shifted to that of a man speaking. The boy then turned the dial again and music started playing, then again and again . Different people speaking, different music with each turn of the dial.
“But sometimes there's a signal where nobody is playing anything.”
He turned the dial back to the sound of rocks being rubbed together.
“This is called white noise. This is what controls the blue lights.”
Oh, you really have gotten this one good Author. The girl thought. To make him believe in something as crazy as sounds traveling through the air like that, that sounds can control the lights.
“What are you doing here?” The boy in the tight sweater asked.
Or maybe, the girl continued to think, this boy wasn't under the control of the Author. Maybe this boy really had found a way to control the blue lights. Maybe he could help them, help them all. And hopefully the Author didn’t know he existed.
“I’m just trying to understand that place. I’ve been doing lots of experiments. So far I can consistently get from this side of the light to the inverse place. I know that the blue lights in all instances are a safe place from the shadow creatures. That things on this side seem to affect those same things on the other side, and-”
“And no one has tried to stop you?” The girl interrupted.
The boy frowned.
“No? I have a theory that people can’t see the blue lights normally. Or the people standing in them. In fact, that’s why I was so surprised you two started talking about me, beside the obvious other reason. But then I saw you were also under a blue light so that made me think that maybe anyone that stood under a blue light could see me. I would have to test some things cause I wouldn't necessarily want them to go to the other place and-”
“You haven't seen a, well it's not a person, but something that looks like a person?” The boy in the tight sweater grabbed onto his arm. “Have you?”
The boy took a step back, the grip on his arm lessened.
“You mean the creatures? The one that eat human flesh?”
The girl felt all the blood drain from her face.
“The what?" The boy in the tight sweater looked equally as pale.
“The creatures that are all over that inverse place. That's not what you two are talking about?” The girl in the loose dress grabbed his other arm. The boy in the lab coat couldn't move an inch away from them.
“I haven't seen anyone else, not until you two.” The boy's voice rose in pitch.
They both let their grip go. The boy took a few steps back. He wrapped both his arms where they had gripped him.
He was missing the pinky on his left hand.
The boy in the tight sweater turned to the girl in the loose dress.
“He hasn't seen the Author, the Author doesn't know.”
The girl looked back to the boy who was still rubbing his arm, not listening.
“We need to warn him, he could be our only way to stop it. But the Author can't know about-”
(Microphone)
A constant rotating light suddenly stopped on the two of them. The cat hisses in their lap.
The boy in the lab coat backs away as fast as he can starting at the cat
“Sorry I didn't mean-” He starts.
Then the boy is gone, the blue light that was around him turns off.
Interruption one
(Bad Overhead Speaker) Narrator One
A dead seagull, just laying on the gravel in front of the gas station. Everyone walked by it quickly, trying not to give it much thought.
Things died.
And they had to die somewhere. It lay rotting over the course of weeks. Seagulls are surprisingly big birds. Feathered wings stayed fanned and fresh while the gut was hollowed out by rats and mice and bugs.
The skeleton lay for even longer. The rotting process already doing its due course, and no soil for the bones to sink into.
Bones and wings baking and belching in the sun.
The wind rattled through the empty spaces.
Making a low buzz.
Story two
(Microphone) Narrator One
It was the noise.
The humming and buzz of the street lights above. At all the different frequencies, different pitches, different white noise. It all clashed and separated so that every one noise was just distinct enough to never fade into the background. Like being in a crowd of people where you can understand every word and follow every conversion.
It was the noise
The groans and murmuring of the things that wandered around here. Black silhouettes that glitched and fizzled in and out of existence. Arlo would sometimes catch a word or two of what they were saying. At first he thought they might be talking about the things that were seeing and hearing all around them. But he soon came to realize that they all just repeating the same words and phrases over and over. Soon Arlo was able to recognize what silhouette was who by the words they were saying. Maybe that is what he looked like to them. Maybe every shadow creature was just another person lost and confused in this weird inverse place. If that were the case, he wondered what he was repeating endlessly into the void.
It was the noise.
All the things that didn’t make noise in the real world. Peeling paint, rust, trees growing, flowers rotting. An inescapable cacophony. Some were slow and grating. Others soft and wet. All at once. There was never any peace.
It was the noise.
He was at the highway once again. It was by far the quietest place in town. None of the shadows creatures came this far out. The only noise out here was the constant buzz of the streetlights and the wind rushing down the empty highway. The streetlights on the highway itself weren't on. Not the steady bright blackness, not the flickering blue and especially not the rare orange. Although once he had seen the orange light of the light house shine this way. It could reach all over town, but as soon as it hit the highway it was like there was a wall, the light not being able to go any farther. Arlo had never tried to go past this invisible wall. He wasn't nearly desperate enough yet to do that. Here at least, so far, he was safe. He turned on his recorder once again. He was pretty sure by now the battery should have run out. But it paid to be cautious anyway. He replayed his last recording.
(Phone) Arlo Trone
I heard screaming like nothing I had ever heard. It was long and full of so much sadness. Like the person was losing everything. Then it became, well, wet and stopped. I think it's that person that I used to hear singing on the pire. At the place where the blue light never turned off. Because since then, the singing has stopped.
(Microphone) Narrator One
In the recording only his voice was ever heard. He long ago decided that wasn’t even close to the weirdest thing that was happening and to not worry about it. He turned the recorder back off and gave a sigh. He had really enjoyed recording sounds he liked in the real world. It was a nice break from the stress of school. To just sit and listen. To try to be as quiet as possible to get a clean recording. He had done some recording with him speaking before, but those had been rare. Now it was all he could do. His voice in the void. He got up from the sidewalk. The only thing worse than the noise was the ever present boredom.
He started to walk down the one way street in the middle of town. As he moved through town the noises became more and more. It started with the ripping and sharding sounds of peeling paint of the welcome to town sign. The slouching of the flowers withering and dying and rotting. The creaks and scraps of the concrete shifting between his feet. The silhouettes started to appear next. Their footsteps echoing just as much as his own. For those of them that seem to walk at least. Most seemed to be moving in one direction then zapping back in a completely different direction entirely. Or moving forward only to pull back to their starting point. Or they would appear in one place then in a different place suddenly. The words and phrases started next. Lounder then all the other sounds.
“They were inside it, placed there, like a bookmark.”
“He had been walking home from a friend's house.”
“There was someone sitting on the bench.”
“When it smiled every detail was visible.”
“The sound gained a buzzing, low like static.”
“All still illuminated by a steady, dim orange glow.”
“He was trapped here.”
“This was real life.”
“They watched the drops fall, feeling them slide down their skin.”
“She could hear herself scream.”
Eventually he would see the ocean and the waves would join the cacophony of noise. Of every building shifting. Of every tree and flower stretching and pulling then snapping and rotting. The waves rolling and crashing on the beach. The creaking of the wood of the pire. The chains rattle and scratching. The shadow creatures used to be quiet here, all standing still. They were watching the performance. But since the singing stopped, all Arlo could hear from the creatures was applause. It always sounded like a theater performance had just ended and it never stops. It was almost loud enough to drown out all the other sounds.
Almost.
Arlo stopped just before the road turned into a dock. It was big enough for a car to drive on. It was right at the point where if he were in a car he would have to turn right or left.
The road only went one way, one way, right into the ocean.
This is always what Arlo considers the end of the line. Time to turn back. When he did turn his head he would find himself staring at the highway once again.
The road only went one way.
It was the noise.
Arlo kept walking forward. He heard a voice that wasn't a shadow creature. He knows all their words and phrases. This was not one of them. The voice was hoarse and broken, and he could hardly hear it. He didn't even turn towards it.
The ocean was right there. What if he just kept going? He placed his recorder on a nearby table. Maybe someone would find his recording. Maybe someone else would listen. Maybe this was the purpose. He climbed up onto the railing. The girl at the pire voices rose to a pitch.
And he jumped.
The cold of the water stole the breath from his lungs instantly. He sank too far and much too quickly to know what way was up. The waves pushed him in every direction. He desperately wanted to open his eyes, but knew that he wouldn’t be able to see through the salt water.
It had been the noise.
Here every sound was only a rushing. Constant. A calm steady rhythm. He stopped trying to fight the waves. He relaxed and enjoyed the moment, the sound. He wished he had his recorder. He took in a breath. Expecting water to fill his lungs.
(Phone)
And coughing when air filled his lungs instead. He no longer felt the weight of the water around him. Only smooth solid ground beneath him. He opened his eyes and for a moment thought that he was still under water as his eyes started to burn. His eyes finally adjusted to the black void around him, slightly tinted blue. And the silence. It hits his ears like a physical force.
Then he heard the sound of slow creaking metal.
Interruption Two
(Microphone) Narrator One
A story for one.
The only one that views it as a story.
The rest it’s just life.
A story with multiple points of view, a cast of thousands. No one is the main character, the protagonist, the hero, the villain, the bad guy, the best friend, the person next door. There are just the players, all putting on a show for one.
There's a girl that is stuck on a dock. She is not dead. Someone could save her, she would not fade away, or crumble to dust. She still had family to go back to. Friends who missed her. A life. But she is stuck on that dock.
And there are no heroes.
There's a boy who got lost on a one way street. He was never supposed to find his way there. So he found a way to escape.
There are no villains
There's a boy who fell in love. Not with a person, but with an idea. He grew obsessed with it, wanting to know everything about it. But he didn’t want to keep it to himself. He wanted to show it to anyone who would give him the time. But he needed to know more first. He needed to understand. But by the time he did, he couldn’t tell anyone. He was gone from the world.
There is no protagonist.
There's someone that had a dream. Someone who would do anything, risk anything, sacrifice anything to achieve that dream. It would make the perfect story. Be the narrator of the first story of humanity written by a non-human. There’s nothing wrong with an unreliable narrator.
Because there are no antagonists.
There was a woman. She worked in a bookstore. One day she saw a statue of an old woman outside her work move. A streetlight above flickering blue light. She saw. And she remembered. It was a story just for her. An audience of one.
They're not the main character. It can't even be a part of the story.
It’s just the audience.
Story Three
(Bad Overhead Speaker) Narrator One
As the entity that called itself the Author left their office Noah started at the modern tape recorder it had left behind.
It was a digital recorder, one used in interviews or lecture halls. The Author said it had belonged to Arlo Thorn. That it probably had a lot of useful information on him and his mind set right before he disappeared. The entity did not say how it had gotten it.
“Why do you think it left that when we hadn’t agreed to the deal yet?” Meri said. She had been staring at the digital recorder like she was afraid it might bite her.
“Show of good faith. Maybe to prove that we wouldn’t be able to find any information about the case without its help.” Noah looked up at the light of the office, the one he had seen on multiple occasions flicker and wondered if the Author had had anything to do with that. “Maybe it's a way to intimidate us. We have no idea what Arlo could have recorded.”
“I’m going to go back out there. Try the library, or see if there's a local archive, or something.” Meri said standing up from her chair.
“If what the Author says is true, then none of those places will have anything.”
“We're kinda just talking the Author's word on that.”
Noah looked back to the recorder.
“Maybe we listen to this first, it may give you a better idea of where to start looking.”
Meri sat back down and leaned back in the chair “Fine.”
Noah pressed play.
Interruption Three
Hey there's a devil, there's a devil in a henhouse,
Hey there's a man with an axe in his hand,
Oh there's a
Lover in my bed
Hey there's a lover, there's a lover in a henhouse,
Hey there's a devil with an axe in his hand,
And oh there's
A man in my bed
Hey there's a man, there's a man in a henhouse,
Hey there's a lover with an axe in her hand, and
Oh there's a devil in my bed
Cause I knew a preacher with a shark tooth grin,
And I knew a killer with a firm handshake,
And I knew a man who,
I knew a man who,
I knew a man who thought he'd get away.
Story Four
(Phone) Narrator One
The squeaking of metal continued. It was the only thing that Arlo could hear. He turned his head this way and that, trying to figure out what way it was coming from. But each time he turned his head it seemed to be coming from a different direction. Finally something spoke.
“What are you?”
The voice was soft and calm.
He doesn't respond for a few breaths. Arlo turns the question in his head. What was he? Did the voice think he was a shadow creature? Something else?
“I’m a, a human.”
The sound of squeaking metal stops immediately. Then the voice came again.
“It's been a long time since a human has come here. But not as long as the time before.”
Arlo wondered if maybe this voice was a shadow creature, and its phrase just happened to match his response.
Then the ground heaved and he heard the crashing waves of the ocean again, felt the pressure on his chest. He struck in a desperate breath and his lungs filled with water. Then he was on solid ground once again, the soft silence back, only interrupted by his wet coughs.
“You can’t wonder here.”
Arlo barely processed what the voice had said.
“What?”
“You can’t wonder here. This place is too unstable for that.”
Arlo was having trouble understanding what this voice was talking about. He was a little too distracted by getting air in his lungs and his throat to stop hurting.
“Unstable? What do you mean unstable? How? Why?”
The metal squeaking started up again. Arlo was struggling to place the sound. Chains? Rattling on the ground maybe? Was this voice a prisoner? Or maybe it was a weapon? This voice could mean him harm. Or it could be-
The ground shook again and Arlo felt himself sinking into the water. He tries to swim to the surface and finds himself standing on the solid ground.
“I said you can’t wonder here.”
“What, what does that mean?” Arlo said carefully.
“Exsactly what I said. This place is too unstable to contain all the possibilities that a wandering mind has. It’ll start to fall apart.” The voice sound like it was getting ever so slightly away from him, then closer. Like someone on a.
A swing set.
The squeaking metal sound was a swing set.
Outro
(AM Radio) Narrator One
A girl swings on a swing set.
Swinging back and forth, back and forth.
She used to only swing in company, but swings all the time now to make a sound for it to come back to.
Swinging back and forth, back and forth.
The swing set is in a triangle of grass, with room enough to throw a ball, have a picnic, or to run. In between two houses she is hidden. She is hidden in the in-between places.
Swinging back and forth, back and forth.
Two houses side by side. A gap between them. The place she waits.
Swinging back and forth, back and forth.
Cookie cutter houses.
Outro Music
Credits
Blue Flickering Street light is written, edited and performed by Karma Night and is produced by Lanterns Aura
Intro and Outro music is by Aleksander Kordov
Thank you for listening to the season one final!
Intro and Outro music is by Aleksander Kordov
Logo is by Racc00n_with_a_Sp00n
Narrator Two/Arlo Thorn is voiced by cakebird
The Statue Of The Old Women/Noah is voiced by Ya Boi Trashy
The Boy Under Blue Light is voiced by Dod
The Girl At The Pier is voiced by Bunny
The Fisherman Statue is voiced By Alkahe
Meri Marigold is voiced by YourfavoriteJegg
Boss is voiced by Carter Lyon Folkes
The Girl At The Bookstore/ The Audience is voiced by PawsitivelyAnna
“Everybody Thinks They're The One To Get Away” is used with permission by Blue Jay Walker
All other sounds are either record by Karma Night or are from Freesound.org under creative commons
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Thank you so much for listening!
