Episode 3: The Girl At The Pire
CONTENT WARNING: general unease, distorted voices, unreality, themes of being trapped
TRIGGER WARNING: description of blood and bone, Humanoid eating human flesh (Pseudo cannibalism)
Transcript
Intro
(Radio) Narrator One
Creaking wood, weight on then off.
Lapping waves, hitting rocks, splashing.
The hollow groan of shifting wooden posts.
The clink of heavy metal chains.
Endless wind howling.
You know what a dock sounds like, don’t you?
Intro Music
Story Pt.One
(Bad Overhead Speaker) Narrator One
"You go!" One of her friends says.
"No you go!" The other one replies.
"Come on! I asked you first"
"Your the one that wants to see"
Three kids stand at the edge of the pier. It looked like a dock, not one made for boats, but for the pleasure of people to walk on. It went far into the water, far enough that you couldn't describe the face of someone at the end of it. Then it turned parallel to the shore blocking a good portion of the view of the mountains, then turned back to shore for about five feet. Enough to be able to stare at the shore again.
It was a wired design.
There were lights on the underside of the pier, lighting the water more than the pier itself. She could see the ocean below so clearly. The dock looming over it. An angular shadow only slightly lighter than the night sky.
She wanted to know what it was like. To walk on rippling light, around her only void.
She had walked on the pier with her parents earlier in the week. But that had been during the day, tons of people around. It didn’t offer her anything more than a pretty view.
Now it was empty, It was just too new, people didn't trust it enough yet.
It went uncomfortably far into the water. If it were to break or you slipped in, the swim from the end of the dock would not be a pleasant one.
It would also be cold.
And dark.
If the lights weren't there she wasn't sure if she would be able to see the pier at all.
"Fine." she said, breaking the argument. Her two friends stopped talking immediately and stood back, giving her unneeded space. She took a breath.
The wood creaked as she stepped on to it. Becoming louder as she put her whole weight on it. Each movement was accompanied by a dissonance of cracks and groans paired with the melody of the ocean moving and splashing.
The lights glowed orange under her, filtering through the gaps in the wooden boards. It looked like a dozen small sunsets were taking place under her.
It was wonderful, magical even.
She felt as if she was walking on the water instead of the wood several feet above. She got to the end of the pier, before it turned parallel with the shore. She couldn't tell the difference between the ocean and night sky, only the stars indicated there was a sky at all.
She knew there were islands out there, close enough to boat to, but she couldn't see any of them. There was just an emptiness out there, sprinkled with little lights. She got to the part of the pier where it turned towards the shore. The lights at the very end was a light blue, faint and flickering.
She was glad there were railings, otherwise she might have walked off into the water. It was so dark without the orange glow below. The light at the end must be broken. Feeling bold she leaned on the railing, the wood protesting as she rested her arms fully on it. Her friends still on the shore looked vaguely into her direction, she was sure they couldn't actually see her and were just guessing at where she was. She rested her belly on the rails, ignoring the whining it made, and waved her arms above her head. She didn't want to shout, but she hoped this would do the trick.
Her friends were still only staring at where she was vaguely.
She stopped waving.
(Microphone) Narrator One
Her body lurched forward. Her hands flung down to steady her on the rail. Her vision burled as if someone had suddenly shone a bright light in her face.
She clung to the wood using it to straighten herself up.
The sky shone white. Little black dots spilled all over like ink.
The ocean was light gray. The buildings on the shore looked straight out of black and white photo, the negative of a black and white photo. The windows once black were now white, the bright painted buildings now dark.
She stepped back from the railing carefully, her legs shaking. The wood beneath her was quiet. The ocean, tranquil. The blue light still shone below her, but now it was stronger, enough to engulf her in blue light, although it still flickered.
All the other lights had gone dark. She had been right; without the lights the pier was hard to see against the sky, white against white. It was hurting her eyes and head to look at. She looked back to the shore, she could see her friends so clearly, black silhouettes against the light gray walkway. How could they not see her?
She had to get back to them.
She had to get off this pier.
She needed to know what was going on.
She ran, hard and fast. She could feel her feet slamming on the wooden boards, the air rushing from her lungs, the tap, tap, tap of her heart. She turned with the pier as it did. She was now parallel with the shore, she looked there trying to ignore the light gray of the ocean invisibly connecting to the white of the sky. Only knowing there was a sky at all because of the little black lights of the stars. She tried to not see that the whiteness covered up the islands she knew to be there. She turned again. Fully facing the shore, the longest stretch of the pier.
Her friends waited for her.
She stopped running.
Her breath burned down her throat
There were too many.
There were too many black silhouettes waiting for her at the end of the pier. She was close enough now that they shouldn't even be silhouettes. Was too close for them to appear fuzzy.
Too close.
…
(Bad Overhead Speaker) Narrator One
Her friends never saw her at the end of the pier from the shore. Even though the orange light there seemed the brightest
Interruption One
Sounds of the waves, seagulls
(Microphone) The Boy Under Blue Light
Do you like the flowers they give you
(Microphone) Fisherman
Mm (agreement)
(Microphone) The Boy Under Blue Light
I think they're nice. Everytime I walk by here they’re different. Never see anyone giving them to you though.
(Microphone) Fisherman
Mm (acknowledged)
(Microphone) The Boy Under Blue Light
Does it affect your work? You seemed to be struggling with that fish wire
(Microphone) Fisherman
Mm (annoyed)
(Microphone) The Boy Under Blue Light
I can help if you want, I have time, just waiting for someone
(Microphone) Fisherman
Mm (agreement to help)
(Microphone) The Boy Under Blue Light
Now I'm going to be honest, I only did this once with my dad. Funny I don't really remember his face but I remember how he ties a knot
(Microphone) Fisherman
Mm (stop)
(Microphone) The Boy Under Blue Light
Yeah, sorry, too personal I guess. Weird that those flowers stick to your hands like that, thought they would just drop away.
Shifting sounds, fishermen shows the boy his hands more closely
(Microphone) The Boy Under Blue Light
Oh shit
boy takes a breath
Sorry I didn't mean
pause
I didn't realize they grew out of your hands. Is that where the flowers come from, or do they do that after people give them to you?
(Microphone) Fisherman
Mm (could be yes or no)
(Microphone) The Boy Under Blue Light
Cool, okay so this is tied now, um, need anything else?
(Microphone) Fisherman
Mm (no)
(Microphone) The Boy Under Blue Light
Alright then, great talk
Footsteps
(Microphone) The Boy Under Blue Light
Not like you can fish anyway, you're facing the wrong way.
Story Pt.Two
(Microphone) Narrator One
She doesn't know why she decided to start singing. It had felt like she had been stuck at the end of that dock for weeks. She really wasn't sure though. After the first few circles of night and day she was sure time wasn't passing normally. One time she was sure, day had only lasted an hour and the night much more than ten. But with all the colors being shades of gray and reversed, she couldn't tell if it was actually night, or just a cloudy day. There was also the boredom. Surprisingly her phone had worked in this place. She could text and make calls, she had even had enough space to take a couple photos. Although she had had to delete a few others to make room. The calls hadn't been much help or the texting. If anything they had solidified in her mind that she was never getting any help. That she was going to be stuck in this place forever. She sat on the floor of the dock. From this angel she faces the ocean. Not a clear look of the ocean, there was a railing in the way blocking her view. It looked like the ocean was in a cage, or she was.
The shadow creatures still stood at the edge of the light. Sometimes it blocked her view of her cage bars. A warden. One that was inside the cage with her. One for some unexplainable reason would not pass through the blue light. It clearly meant her harm, but it would not come to get her here. It grinned at her as she sat on the floor. It had not walked up. Just kinda shifted out of the whiteness. She closed her eyes and started to hum. She couldn't hear anything in this place. Or more accurately this place had no sound. The humming however made a vibration in her chest that she could feel. It was comforting. Or at the very least distracting.
When she opened her eyes again everything was black and, had colour.
As her eyes slowly started to fill in the details of her surroundings she could see that the sky was black, little white dots spread across, barely visible throughout the light pollution of the orange light that surrounded her.
Orange light? She stood up fast, making her head spin, adrenaline not helping. The shadow creatures were gone, the sky was black, the dock was dark wood.
And.
And.
She could hear the waves crash below her, loud and rhythmic. A breeze whistles by her ears. She heard a plane overhead. Then she heard wood creaking below her as she shifted her feet. Then wood groaning and rubber shoes slapping as she ran. She heard ragged breath and laughing and sobs.
"I’m free" she spoke it out loud to hear her voice.
"I'm free!" She yelled to hear it clearer.
Her friends were waiting at the end of the dock. Maybe it hadn't been that long at all. Maybe only a few minutes. Her friends were speaking but she was struggling to hear. She could see her friend's mouth moving surly she must be close enough to hear. Essentially since everything else was so quiet.
Quiet.
She hasn't stopped running. Or yelling. The ocean waves couldn't have stopped.
She blinked.
Her eyes open to white. The adjustment from the blackness of the inside of her eyelids to the whiteness of the night was one she was getting used to. Her eyes watered from the sting. She didn't want to get used to it. A stream of water rolled down the sides of her face as she laid on her back.
It had been a dream. Or a hallucination.
She turned her head to look at the ocean again. It was calm and clear through the wooden bars of her cage. The warden that had been standing there had probably left a bit ago. She turned her head towards the shore.
Empty.
She sighed and turned back to look up at the white night sky. Empty? She stood up and leaned against the railing. She searched the shore for black dots that could be wardens. None on the beach, or on the walkway, not even in the windows of the building.
Were they finally gone? Or distracted? This was her chance. All she had to do was make it to the end of the dock. That's what had trapped her. Once she went over the threshold she would be back. She just knew. It had to be there. Maybe her dream had been a prediction.
It didn't matter. She had to try. And if passing that threshold didn't do anything would she run around town hiding from those things? Or go back to the only safe place she knew?
She took a deep breath, guess she would find out when she got there.
There was no creaking of wood or slapping of rubber. No sound of ragged breath or laughing or sobs. Not even a yell.
Although when the pain hit her she really wished she could.
She fell, backwards back into the safety of the blue light. She had no time to be thankful she didn't hit her head before a second wave of pain tour up from her right foot.
Or where her right foot used to be.
Her foot from the ankle down was gone. Chewed clearly though as if an ax had chopped it off. Blood dripped out, bright and red. The colour was a shock to her eyes and made her forget that she was losing a lot of blood and fast. She wrapped her hands around the leg trying to keep as much pressure as possible. She knew it was a losing battle. No one was coming to help her. Even if she wrapped it up and stopped the bleeding would she be able to keep it clean? Stop an infection when it inevitably came?
The pressure from her hands wasn't helping very much. Blood still oozed from between her fingers at an alarming rate. She should be passing out. Her head shouldn't be this clear. The pain was still there, but not as sharp and blinding. More like a buzz.
Maybe this is what dying felt like.
Maybe she was already dead.
She saw a flicker of movements just outside her vision and instinctively moved her head towards it. It was one of the wardens, so close to the light that it looked like it was almost leaning on it. It grinded, wide, red leaking from between its teeth. Then it chewed slowly, still grinning. The blood and bits of bone and skin occasionally falling from its mouth making splatters on the ground. The silhouettes' teeth weren't sharp, they were square and looked so human. She didn't think that teeth that looked so much like hers would tear uncooked meat so easily, so fast.
She stared.
It grinned.
She slowly released the pressure from her leg.
The warden looked up to the white night sky.
She vaguely noticed that the bleeding had stopped.
The warden swallowed the last of her foot.
She looked through the bars of her cage.
Interruption Two
Ocean sounds, wind, radio/boombox quietly playing the following
Blue Jay Walker "Everybody Thinks They're The One To Get Away”
‘But I know time and I know luck, and I can feel both of them creeping up,
Tallies, getting mighty tall as some might say’
Story Pt.Three
(Microphone) Narrator One
It would start bleeding sometimes. Sometimes a lot and sometimes a little. When it bled a lot the pain returned, like it had been freshly cut. She long ago stopped bothering to put pressure on it, even when it got like that. It didn't stop the pain and she wasn't going to die. All it did was cover her hands in more blood.
The warden didn't eat bones. Once the warden was done chewing all the meat and muscle off her foot the bones had been left on the ground. Little grayish, black sticks and stones that lay on the dock just out of the blue light. They stood out harshly against the white of the dock, partially shiny under the white of the night sky.
She spent less time looking that way. Towards the open ocean, towards the wooden bars of her cage. She spent most of her time looking at the shore. Which was its own kind of torment.
There were benches along the walkway. Most were either facing away from the ocean or were on the far side of the walk way.
One though, one was on the walkway facing directly at her. She couldn't remember if it had been there before she had gotten trapped here or if it had been put after. It would have made more sense if it had been put there before. Before this ugly pier had been built and it had a perfect view of the ocean and mountains.
Now it's only view was her.
None of the wardens sat on it. They sometimes sat on other benches, but not this one.
It was always empty, but she couldn't shake the feeling that something was watching her there. Waiting.
Not maliciously, but with anticipation. Like it was waiting for a show. Or maybe she was waiting for something to happen and she was projecting it onto this out of place object. This bench that directly faced her.
That's really it isn't it? After knowing she was safe in the blue light, she started to not fear the wardens that came close to her. Not really wardens any longer. They were just shadows. Truly as harmless as a silhouette in the distance. They became just a part of the routine. Another part of this wired environment. All she really had in this place was boredom.
Boredom and pain.
Singing helped. Making up new songs helped more. But only for a little while. It wasn't like she could go further than singing them. And even more frustrating sometimes she would forget words, or the melody, and there was no way to get them back. She had finally given into the temptation to make a song about escaping. Being free. She had thought that making a song like that would make her more depressed, but it actually gave her hope. Made her feel like she was actually being heard. The wind crescendo when her voice did, the ocean kept rhythm. Her voice broke and struggled, but the words still came in tune. Or at least they did in her head.
(Walkie-Talkie Turning On)
(Phone)
This world had no sound.
(Walkie-Talkie Turning Off)
(Microphone) Narrator One
There was someone sitting on the bench. The bench that sat directly opposite her. The bench the silhouettes never touched. It sat perfectly still, staring right at her.
(Bad Overhead Speaker) Narrator One
The wind was loud and wiped her hair around her face, her clothes crawling around her skin. The ocean rumbled beneath her.
She could hear.
The figure was completely still. The blue light was still around her, but the scenery had changed. The colour was back to normal. Grey sky, green ocean, flowers of every color bloomed along the walkway. The figure was still a silhouette, dark.
It brought its hands up and together in an unmistakable gesture, clapping.
The girl couldn't hear the noise over the wind but the intent was obvious. The figure had enjoyed the show, and was giving her applause. A show she had apparently performed for one. The girl started to yell.
"I need help!" She screamed "I can't leave the blue light!" She hoped her cracking voice was louder than the waves and wind. She had no idea she was working her throat that much.
"I'm injured!"
The figure stood up. Hope rose in the girl's chest. Someone was coming to finally get her out. The figure started walking down the walkway.
In the opposite direction.
The girl yelled louder
"Please! I'm scared!"
A quick thought passed through her head, maybe the figure couldn't hear her. But that wasn't right. It had clapped at her singing. As the figure continued down the walkway the colour seemed to follow it. Like it was peeling paint from the world. The whites went to black, blacks to white and all the other colours to shades of gray.
(Microphone) Narrator One
The winds stopped blowing and the ocean stopped keeping rhythm. She could only feel her voice. The light around her stayed blue and flickering
Interruption Three
(Bad Overhead Speaker) Narrator One
Sometimes the wind can seem like it has a melody, a rhythm. If you listen to it for long enough you could swear there is a song being played.
Humans like songs.
They instinctively know when notes put together sound “right”. What a weird ability to evolve. While the wind however knows music, It doesn't know words. Humans know words. Humans might mistake words in the wind, but the wind doesn't know words.
So she must be a human.
She was definitely singing words. But they blended so well with the sounds of the wind and waves that it was hard to tell what the words were. She stands at the end of the dock, her arms resting on the railing. The docks was made for people to have nice walks along the water. Not for boat hands and dock workers. It’s wide and has little out coves for benches so that people can sit and look at the water. It is raised up on metal stilts, the water leaving a clear rust line where it never goes above. The dock goes out a long way into the water, then turns to be parallel with the shore. Then turns again to face it. Metal ladders hang off the bottom, dipping into the ocean below. The top of the dock isn’t lit, but there are flood lights on the bottom that lights up the water.
Or they usually only light up the water.
All along the dock the light cast an orange glow making the water beneath the dock seem to bubble, like it’s trying to shallow the sitting sun.
Expert for one.
The one on the end of the dock where the girl stands and sings her song to the wind. The light there cast a halo of light, down on the water below and the dock above. It flickers like a light about to die.
It’s blue.
From the shore she looks so far away. There's a chain that runs through poles along the path. They’re meant to keep people from falling into the water. They look like they are keeping her impression at sea. There's a bench right across from the part of the dock she sings at. If the point of the dock turning towards the shore is to show off how far at sea you are. The bench here is to show off the dock.
It's the closest seat to her concert.
Her face isn't very clear, blurred and blank with distance. Not her voice though. She is singing. She sings for a long time. The story in the song becomes clear. With context.
She is trapped.
She's far from home.
She can't turn back.
She can only look at the shore. Not even the freedom of the sea. Not that she likes its open, treacherous freedom. But it's better than being trapped in a space in between. Not on land or water. A limbo. She flatters and stops. She seems to lean forward on the rail.
The bench has a front seat view.
She steps up on the bottom rail. her hands leaning at the top. The wind and waves without words to accompany them grew loud, a crescendo in its melody.
One that is usually accompanied by a drop.
She lends as far as she can forward. All her weight is balanced, resting on the top railing. She brings her hands to her face and she-
(Microphone) The Girl At The Pier
Hey!
(Bad Overhead Speaker) Narrator One
The words cut the wind has sharply has her song
(Microphone) The Girl At The Pier
You! On the shore! You can hear me right? See me?
(Bad Overhead Speaker) Narrator One
Her voice waivers. Singing and then yelling across the distance has made its dent.
(Microphone) The Girl At The Pier
Can you help me? I'm trapped here!
(Bad Overhead Speaker) Narrator One
The bench is the closest seat.
(Microphone) The Girl At The Pier
I know you can help! You're not like those things! Help me!
(Bad Overhead Speaker) Narrator One
The halo of blue disappears, changing to orange to match the others. The wind and waves continue on their melody.
Music without words.
A flower is left on the bench that admires the dock.
It was, after all, a great performance.
Story Pt.Four
(Microphone) Narrator One
She didn't notice him at first. It was one of those bad pain times. So bad that she had to retreat into her mind and pretend she was somewhere else. Anywhere else. She noticed him slowly. Her subconscious mind plays him off as another silhouette.
But he doesn't move like a silhouette, walking up to the light like that. She started to notice other details as well. He seemed to be wearing clothes, what must have been a white lab coat in the real world, here it was a stark black contrasting harshly against the white night sky. He was also holding something, a bag maybe. It looked like it was holding small pebbles.
And
He was missing his pinky on his left hand.
The boy was surrounded by a flickering blue light. He waved, mouthing the word 'hello'. He seemed hesitant to come into her bubble of blue light. Whether because it would harm him or he was doing it to make her more comfortable she wasn't sure. The pain was dulling again, the fog that clouded her mind slowly disappearing. With tremendous effort, she waved back. The boy's face lit up. He stood up straight and opened the bag in his hands. He then strands into her bubble of light, the light turning off behind him. Then he dumped whatever was in the bag into his hand. And the light above her flickered off, then turned on soft orange.
(Bad Overhead Speaker) Narrator One
She felt dizzy and was sure that if she wasn't already sitting down she would have fallen over. The boy's mouth was moving, she stared at him blankly, didn't he know there was no sound here? She then realized that she could hear him, and she could hear the wind, and the crash of the waves and the wood creaking and most loudly of all her screaming.
It ripped at her throat and sucked all the air out of her lungs and she had never felt more relief to hear her anguish and not just have to feel it.
She vaguely registered the boy fidgeting around her, looking around, but never coming close enough to touch. Eventually he put back whatever it was he had dumped out of the bag back into it. The light above immediately turned back blue so quickly that it felt like a physical force that even if the sound had not left it would have cut off the scream.
(Microphone) Narrator One
The boy fell hard beside her. She curled herself into a ball, pulling her legs up to her chest. It was a little awkward with the missing foot. Her arms had to hold up the whole weight of the leg. He got up slowly, rubbing his head then his arms. He looked around at the light. He sat, legs crossed in front of him, the furthest he could be without going outside the light. Everytime she breathed she could feel the wind scratch down her throat and lungs. She idly wondered if that would never heal either.
The boy in front of her was searching on the ground for something. The bag, she realized. She scanned with her eyes. It had fallen just outside the light. Well, that was just her luck. The only thing that could maybe save her, inches away but completely unattainable. She looked to the boy. He was stuck in here now too. Her stomach flipped at the thought. On one hand it would be nice to not be alone. On the other, he was a complete stranger. He could be dangerous.
The boy finally noticed where the bag was. Then he pulled something else out of his pocket.
It was a radio.
He fiddled with a few dials and then.
Then the light just outside turned to blue, just like that. He grabbed the bag.
She couldn't help but flinch away from it. The boy seemed to notice and lay it on the ground beside him, holding up his hand in a symbol of surrender. He was smiling though, it made her think he was mocking her. He then slowly reached into his other pocket. She started at his hand worried about what he could possibly cause to happen next.
It was a notepad, with a pen neatly placed in the spiral on top. He took the pen out and flipped through a couple pages. He then wrote something down and held the notepad out to her. She didn't move to take it. He looked down at it then back to her, holding it just a little closer. She still didn't take it. He placed it on the floor and slid it towards her. It didn't go very far, catching on the wood and bending a few pages. He didn't make a move to grab it again though. She looked at it just making out what he had written.
'Hello! I didn't mean to scare you. Do you want help?'
Help? Did she want help? Could she be helped? She looked up at his face. That mocking smile still in place. Could she trust this boy? He seemed to understand way more about where she was then she did. Why would he want to help? Was that what he had been trying to do earlier? She picked up the pen and notepad, writing on it was a little disjointing. White ink scritching out onto black paper.
'Who are you?' She stared at the words she had written. She didn't think she actually cared. She really wanted to know was, 'are you dangerous?’ But what was to stop him from lying? She slid it back over. He read the words quickly then wrote. 'Like my name? Or are you asking if I'm human?'
When she looked up from the note he was smiling with his head slightly tilted.
'Would you tell the truth if you weren't?' She asked
'Honestly if i wasn't I think I would be offended you thought I was' he wrote.
'Have you met things that weren't human?' She wrote
'I'm assuming you mean beside the creatures, yeah, there's plenty of nonhumans things that'll talk to you if you let them'
He wrote the next part slightly bigger.
'Some are really annoying actually'
He scrunched up his nose when she looked up after reading that. Like he had smelt something bad. Then he smiled slightly. This was starting to feel less like a hostage situation and more like passing notes in class.
She paused in writing her reply. Class. If she ever got out of here, would she go back? How much had she missed? Did her friends still think about her? And then suddenly she thought. I hope the musical went well. She felt cold trails run down her cheek. She had worked so hard to get that role. Had worked even harder when she got it. Showed to every practice, tried to help others. She had wanted the lead, but had gotten another. One perfect for her voice. She wondered who had replaced her. She wondered if they had understood the privilege it was. She didn't think they would.
The boy had not moved. He must have seen that she was crying, but he sat exactly where he was before. The smile was gone from his face though.
'I'm sorry' she wrote 'there's a lot going on.'
She handed him the notepad this time. He went to stretch to reach it, then sat closer.
'I get it, um, do you want help?' He wrote the 'um', she thought that was cute.
'How?' She moved so they were shoulder to shoulder. They could both see the person writing as they did so.
'I can bring you back to the-' he paused, clearly looking for the right word. 'Well "real world" isn't really correct. Were still in the real world' he started to write faster. 'It's just not what we're used to and' he stopped and searched out the last sentence. 'I can bring you back to the real world.' He rewrote.
She started at the paper. She could go back. Maybe not as much time had passed as she thought, maybe she could still make the musical.
Then the pain started to return. She took the notepad and wrote. 'What about my leg?' She shifted so it was clear what she was talking about, laying her legs flat on the ground.
His eyes grew wide. He took the notepad and wrote 'oh shit.' Underlying it twice. She felt the spasms of laughter go through her body.
He started to write again. 'Wired question, but does it bleed a lot?'
She nodded her head.
'Oh, well, I'm not a doctor. I don't know if I can stop it. Or get help in time.'
She took the notepad. 'You could go to the phone booth and call 911, then come back and get me, can't you?'
He stared at the notepad then her. He looked older all of a sudden.
'There isn't a phone booth' he wrote slowly. 'They took them away a bit a go.'
Took them away? She thought. How were people supposed to call in an emergency? Phone didn't get service everywhere, and it was so easy to forget to charge them.
She finally wrote. 'Then go into one of the stores and ask to use theirs'
He took back the notepad slowly. 'I can't.' She made a face that clearly asked ‘why?’.
'I can't leave the blue light' he sighed, predicting her question. 'Here or there. None of the buildings have blue lights in them.' He stopped and took a deep breath then wrote. 'I don't think I can help you. I'm sorry I offered.'
He didn't give the notebook back to her. He made a move to put the notebook away in his coat pocket. She sat there staring at his face, deliberately turned from her. Right before he put it back, he stopped and wrote one last thing.
'Do you want me to visit you?'
She stuck out her good leg kicking him. Hard enough that even though they were both sitting he slid a little and fell. His hands barely not going out of the light. He pulled his hand back quickly, looking at her with way more fear than she felt was warranted considering how helpless she felt. She curled back into a ball, back against the railing. The pain was coming back full force, the stump of her leg leaking blood.
When she came back to herself the boy had gone. She tried to convince herself that he had been just another hallucination. The alternative was too horrible to bear. To have all that hope taken away. To be found by someone willing to help but couldn't.
Someone that she had made clear, in that moment, that she didn't want back.
No, the boy had just been a hallucinations.
Just a trick of the light.
Outro
(Radio) Narrator One
The street only goes one way
One way, right into the ocean
The road doesn't end. Its pavement, then a dock, then splash, ocean.
The street only goes one way
If you go on the main road, you stay there, there’s no turning back
The street only goes one way
There's someone at the end of it, just outside the blue lights
The Girl On The Pier sees and tries to warn him
Someone on a bench watches a different show than usual
The street only goes one way
Pavement, dock
*Splash*
Outro Music
Credits
Blue Flickering Street light is written, edited and performed by Karma Night and is produced by Lanturans Aura
Intro and Outro music is by Aleksander Kordov
Logo is by Racc00n_with_a_Sp00n
Narrator two is voiced by cakebird
The Girl At The Pier is voiced by Bunny
The Boy Under Blue Light is voiced by Dod
The Fisherman Statue is voiced by Alkahe
“Everybody Thinks They're The One To Get Away” is used with permission by Blue Jay Walker
All other sounds are either recorded by Karma Night or are from Freesound.org under creative commons
For updates follow us on Instagram, Bluesky or Youtube under Lanterns Aura
Tumblr under Blue flickering Streetlight
Twitch and Tik tok under UltearLight
Or visit our website LanturanAura.com, this is also were you’ll find transcripts of episodes
All Links in show notes
Thank you so much for listening!
After Credits
(Radio) Narrator One
Down One, Right One, Up One, Down Two, Left One, Space
Down Two, Right One, Up Two, Left One, Space
Down Two, Left One, Up Two, Space
Down One, Top Right One, Down Left One, Down One, Up One, Right One, Down One, Space
Down Two, Up Two, Down Right One, Down One, Up Two, Space
Down Two, Right One, Up Two, Left One, Space
Down Two, Right One, Up One, Down One, Right One, Up Two, Space
Right One, Down Two, Up Two, Right One, Space
Down Two, Up One, Right One, Up One, Down Two, Space
Right One, Left One, Down One, Right One, Left One, Down One, Right One, Space
Down Two, Up Two, Right One, Down One, Left One, Right One, Down One, Space
Down Two, Left One, Up Two, Space
Down Two, Right One, Up Two, Left One, Space
Down Two, Space
Down Two, Up Two, Right One, Down One, Left One, Right One, Down One, Space
Down Two, Up Two, Down Right One, Down One, Up Two, Space
Right One, Left One, Down Two, Right One, Space
Right One, Left One, Down One, Right One, Left One, Down One, Right One, Space
