Arthur climbs out of bed
Arthur grunts but doesn’t reply.
John: There’s no food yet.
Arthur doesn’t reply
John: You’re going to try it again?
Arthur: Stop talking to me.
Arthur runs at the wall - jumps - misses, falling back to the ground.
John: If you let me tell you—
Arthur: We’re here because of you! Because of your…
John: I’m sorry.
Arthur: Don’t. I told you we’re done.
Sad piano theme
John: You keep saying that.
Arthur: I keep saying that because I want nothing to do with you!
John: We’re trapped here together, Arthur! It’s been nearly a week, and if we don’t—
Arthur: I am not going to stop just because you feel it’s fruitless!
John: I’m not telling you to stop. I’m telling you, we need to work together on a solution. You can’t keep ignoring me.
Arthur: The hell I can’t.
John: Arthur, listen to me. I am sorry about what I said. I was angry, and frustrated—
Arthur: Don’t pretend to be human all of a sudden.
John: I’m not pretending!
John: You backed me up against a wall with Emily. It made me feel… I don’t know. Attacked. I lashed out.
Arthur: Did you.
John: Obviously. I lashed out and attacked because I felt threatened. That’s just how I am.
Arthur: [Scoffs] Just how you are?
Arthur doesn’t reply.
John: We can find a way out of here. We need to start communicating. We don’t need to be friends, but we need to work together, or we’re going to die in these pits.
Arthur: On one condition.
Arthur: You agree to never mention her name again.
Eerie whispers rush to a crescendo
Yellow: Get up. It’s light.
Faroe’s Waltz piano score plays
Yellow: Sit up.
Arthur sits up, groaning
Yellow: Don’t tell me you’re still drunk.
Arthur sits up
Arthur: No… I don’t think so. [Groans]
Yellow: What the fuck was that?
Yellow: Last night.
Arthur: I drank something. It made me feel ill. Maybe I still am a little…
Arthur groans again, mattress creaks
Yellow: No, don’t lay back down. We need to get up, find Anna.
Arthur: Anna? What?
Yellow: Anna Stancyzk, remember?
Arthur: John, it’s too…
Arthur: Right, right. What exactly happened last night?
Yellow: You had a drink, threw up on a patron in the hallway outside, stumbled into your room and passed out on the bed.
Arthur: Right. [Sigh] Just give me a moment.
Yellow: No, you’ve had all night — it’s time to move.
Arthur: Just relax, Jesus!
Arthur stands up
Yellow: Across from the bed.
Arthur moves to the basin. Water splashing. Arthur sighs.
Yellow: You reek.
Arthur: Yes I do. I also want to shave. I have a kit somewhere. Where’s our bag?
Soft piano music
Yellow: Sitting lopsided by the basin on the floor.
Arthur rustles through the bag
Arthur: I am! What…?
Yellow: You’re knocking against the Glass of the Cana!
Arthur: Right, right. It doesn’t work unless I say a particular phrase, an… an incantation. So you’re safe.
Arthur: Here. [Pulls the case out of the bag] Now, did we pass a bathroom in the hallway?
Arthur: [Sighs] Come on.
Arthur: I deserve a proper clean.
Yellow sighs, annoyed. Door opens
Arthur: We’re the last on the left, so… it’s one of these other doors…
Yellow: Shut the door behind you.
Arthur: Oh, right, right.
Door closes. Footsteps
Yellow: Here, I think this may be it.
Arthur: How awful?
Yellow: There’s a small wood stove with a large basin above it to heat the water. The tub is mostly filled with dirty water. Ice has formed on the surface.
Arthur: At least we’re the first to use it today.
Yellow: There’s a small blue-glass window like the one in your room, looking to the outside.
Arthur: Right, well…
Door closes. Arthur rummages through his pockets.
Yellow: What are you searching for?
Arthur: Our lighter.
Yellow: You have a lighter?
Arthur: Of course, don’t you… you saw it.
Arthur: You must’ve, you said...
Yellow: I didn’t see your lighter, Arthur.
Arthur: Fine, must be in the bag — any way to light the stove? We need to heat the water. It’s freezing in here.
Yellow: There’s a matchbook on the shelf next to the stove.
Arthur retrieves the matchbook
Yellow: Arthur I’ve been thinking.
Arthur: Yeah? [Strikes a match]
Yellow: About what you said in the forest, about my hostility toward you. I think maybe, like you, I haven’t tried enough to focus on your side of things. Give you a fair chance.
Yellow: Yes. You tried to save a friend and it backfired. I think we should start again. Trust each other.
Yellow: Besides, I may know things that could help us. For instance, you said that someone brought me back to you. Who?
Main piano theme plays
Arthur: A man.
Arthur stands up as the fire grows.
Yellow: What was his name?
Arthur: Um, he called himself… Carmichael.
Yellow: You’re sure?
Arthur: Yes, do you recognize the name?
Yellow: What did he do exactly?
Arthur: He did what I asked him to do.
Yellow: You said he also wanted you to suffer.
Arthur: Look, you know no more than my friend did, right? You said it, in the woods, that you barely remember your name. Trust me when I say he didn’t know who Carmichael was.
Yellow: Fine, fine… What about the Glass of the Cana?
Arthur: What about it?
Yellow: Where did you get it?
Arthur: Why do you want to know that?
Yellow: You want to be partners, right? Friends? We need to trust each other.
Arthur: You seem awfully trusting this morning, Yellow.
Yellow: Yes, about that; feel free to call me John.
Yellow: You and he have had quite the past, I imagine that it must be difficult to trust again—
Arthur: Is this water done?
Arthur: Is it warm? We don’t want it boiling.
Yellow: I don’t know; touch the side.
Arthur: That’s good — yeah — that’s good.
Water pouring, Arthur strains. Bucket hits the ground.
Yellow: Anyway, trust is…
Arthur: Not now, Yellow. Let me get undressed and bathe properly.
Arthur undresses and climbs into the water.
Arthur: Oh god...
Arthur: You have no idea.
Yellow: You’ve been through the ringer; I can’t imagine what weighs on your mind. Share with me some—
Arthur: When I sleep, what happens to you?
Faroe’s Lullaby piano theme plays
Yellow: What do you mean?
Arthur: I never really asked John. We slept many nights in the prison pits. I was too angry to care for most of them. I know he was awake when I was… when I was in hospital.
Yellow: You were in hospital?
Arthur: What happens?
Yellow: I’m not sure what you mean.
Arthur: Do you dream? Are you awake? Do you just stare at the backs of my eyelids? It was just last night, Yellow, surely you remember.
Yellow: Yes, I’m awake of course.
Arthur: Do you dream?
Yellow: No, I don’t really comprehend what that means.
Arthur: I thought not. John was like that, too.
Yellow: What do you mean?
Arthur: He didn’t understand what dreams were, not really. He enjoyed me telling him mine.
Yellow: Did he.
Arthur: But I never asked what he did while I slept. So, you don’t dream or sleep What did you do last night?
Yellow: Nothing. I waited, and thought, contemplated.
Arthur: Ah. And after all that contemplation, you thought I’d be this easy to play?
Eerie music plays
Arthur: “Call me john?” Try to trust me, digging for information about Carmichael — come on.
Yellow: What do you want from me!?
Arthur: I guess I want to genuinely move on from this tumultuous relationship we’ve started. I know you won’t be on my side but we need to at least feign the idea of not cutting each other’s throats every second.
Yellow: You say this while threatening my return to the Dark World! You hold in your bag an item which would allow you to put me back to literal hell, and expect me to trust you? To start anew?
Arthur: I don’t know.
Yellow: Of course you don’t, because you hold all the cards. You have no impetus to protect yourself the way I am. You have no desire to seek more because you have all the information. I have nothing!
Yellow: You laugh at me.
Melancholy piano plays
Arthur: I laugh because I’ve mirrored those exact sentiments. I know how you feel.
Yellow: Do you, though?
Arthur: Yes I do.
Yellow: Then prove it.
Arthur: Prove it? That you have felt like “I have nothing”
Arthur: Okay. Fine. The Glass of the Cana doesn’t hold any power. At least not in the way I told you it does.
Arthur: It doesn’t have the power to send you back to the Dark World. I have no way to further punish you beyond being trapped within my eyes. I have no otherworldly knowledge nor skills that will allow me to exile you in any way. There, now, you have no impetus to protect yourself, do you?
Arthur: That’s what you said! You said this tumultuous relationship was because I hold all the cards. Well, I don’t. So, prove me wrong.
Arthur: Prove to me that I didn’t need that leverage over you. That, as you said, this anger and resentment is because I was pointing a gun at you. Well, the gun’s not loaded.
Yellow: You still pointed a fucking gun at me!
Arthur: And you tortured and imprisoned me!
Yellow: That wasn’t me!
Arthur: You know it was. Nothing has changed between you and I yet.
Arthur: Look. You claim to have nothing, and now you know – neither do I.
Yellow: What the fuck, Arthur.
Arthur: You would’ve done the same thing.
Yellow: What the fuck Arthur, you can’t send me back!?
Arthur: No. I can’t. And I—
Yellow: Fucking liar!
Long, eerie paus.
Arthur: Look. Look I’m sorry, okay? Do I regret lying? Yes. Would I have done the same thing? I… I don’t, I don’t honestly... Yes, probably. I don’t know you, and I… you...
Yellow: What do you want from me?
Arthur: I told you. I told you that I wanted—
Yellow: No, what do you want from me. What did you want from him?
Arthur: What? What do you mean? I didn’t want anything. I wanted—
Faroe’s lullaby piano theem plays
Yellow: A friend?
Arthur: I guess… yes… in a way…
Arthur: No… No. Why does this…
Yellow: Because I’m trying to understand. You want that, right? You wanted me back here, you wanted my friendship. So tell me what I have to do.
Arthur: To what end?
Yellow: To any fucking end. Did you even want your body back?
Arthur: Of course, I—
Yellow: But you were free? Weren’t you?
Yellow: If you were free, why did you want him back?
Arthur: I told you. He wanted it.
Yellow: I don’t know if I believe that. You have done nothing but lie to me since I’ve awoke—
Arthur: Oh come on, don’t try to high road me. You’re the one that came out swinging. “This bag is mine; this is our cabin… Don’t you remember your name… “ Fuck. Were just going to keep bashing up against each other. Like crashing waves on a breakwater.
Arthur: Alright what?
Yellow: You’re right. I should be smarter than this.
Arthur: What is “this,” what are you referring to?
Yellow: What need do I have to be fighting with you, if you have no power over me?
Arthur: [Scoffs] Okay.
Yellow: That’s what you said; shouldn’t I be keen to prove you wrong?
Arthur: Great, so progress in spite of ourselves.
Yellow: It’s still progress.
Arthur: Regardless, that’s it. Now you know the truth.
Yellow: So, Anna Stanczyk?
Arthur: She’s the best chance we have at separating ourselves. Still a mutual goal.
Yellow: Why’d you tell me?
Arthur: Many reasons. I knew it would come out eventually, I figured it might as well be now. I didn’t want to rule over you with a threat that meant we’d keep butting heads… uhhhh…
Yellow: What was the main reason?
Arthur: I don’t want to hurt you. [Hopeful piano music] I never have. I can be a real pain to cross the wrong way – don’t get me wrong – and – don’t say anything about that but…I don’t lavish causing strife. I don’t… I don’t enjoy making others suffer. I don’t like hurting people.
Arthur: [Scoff] You don’t have to be a human to be a person, Yellow. Hell, in ancient Greece persona was used to denote a mask worn by an actor assuming a role. If that doesn’t scream the King I don’t know what would. At least in a philosophical way.
Yellow: What do you mean?
Arthur climbs out of the tub
Arthur: It’s just a study people partake in to understand some fundamental truths. Some speak to right and wrong, reasoning, weakness, strength. You’ve never heard of it?
Yellow: Like what you said last night?
Arthur: What last night?
Yellow: You said something, a poem.
Arthur: Ah, no that’s more art I suppose, though I guess the argument could be made either way. It’s about life, death — the author had a difficult life.
Yellow: How so?
Arthur: Oh, ummm, he was poor, his father died when he was very young and he lost his leg, I believe. He spent years in the hospital. The poem is about free will, though, that versus the philosophical ideals of determination can—
Yellow: What’s that?
Arthur: God, look, I promise you, we can talk all about this soon, when I’m not so hung over. For now I just want to shave and head back to the room.
Arthur: Didn’t you say there was a window in here?
Yellow: Yes, to your left.
Yellow: The snow-covered front of the Red Right Hand is below us. The woods are frighteningly close and there are no automobiles out front. I don’t even see a road out here. Snow is falling in thick flakes.
Arthur: Hiding whatever we found last night in the snow I’m sure.
Yellow: I doubt they were going to head out.
Arthur: They said nothing — I can’t believe that.
Yellow: Basin is to your right.
Arthur: Right, thanks.
Yellow: The shaving kit is where you left it, on the basin.
Arthur opens the kit, begins shaving.
Arthur: I’m shocked, honestly. I never would’ve imagined such a deadpan reaction to such a horrid revelation.
Yellow: You don’t need me to guide you?
Arthur: No, it’s not my first time.
Yellow: Hm. [Main piano theme plays] Perhaps it wasn’t a revelation.
Arthur: What do you mean? They knew?
Yellow: You heard the people down there; did they sound like they were above killing?
Arthur: Oh, that’s a leap. It takes a lot to take a life.
Yellow: Does it? You have experience?
Arthur: I… I just mean that I don’t know if that’s the case here.
Yellow: Those prints were no normal creature, Arthur.
Arthur: Perhaps that’s the familiar news.
Yellow: Something stalks these woods.
Arthur: Oh, maybe. I hope we can find out more about this town… Oh… the name...
Arthur: Addison, right, right right! I don’t know it. I have no idea where we are.
Arthur finishes shaving
Arthur: Anyway, that should do it for the beard. A clean shave was so needed.
Yellow: You look different.
Arthur: [Sarcastic] How strange!
Yellow: I mean, your demeanor even.
Arthur: Right, well let’s head back to the room, get changed and see if we can’t get out of this place.
Yellow: Your clothes.
Arthur: [Sigh] Okay!
Arthur moves to the door, opens it. Piano fades.
Yellow: [Warily] Arthur.
Yellow: The door.
Arthur: Oh, does it matter?
Yellow: No, the door to our room. It’s slightly open.
Arthur: We shut it…
Yellow: Yes. Move in quickly; get ready.
Arthur: No no no, wait.
Yellow: What? If someone is going through our things we need to stop them!
Arthur: Let’s just head down to the bar, see who comes down after. The owner wouldn’t stand for something like this, we could—
Yellow: For all you know it is the owner Arthur. Head in and be authoritative.
Arthur: I know how to be authoritative. I also know when to be smart. Trust me. The smart call here is to wait — hang back and wait.
Arthur: We’ll head downstairs, watch for who follows, and keep a distance.
Yellow: Alright, alright. The stairs are behind you.
Arthur walks downstairs. Soft piano music plays.
Yellow: Bright light pours through the blue glass windows, filling the meager bar, which seems much less intimidating in the cold light of day. A man — the bartender from last night — stands behind the bar moving boxes. He doesn’t seem to pay us much mind other than an idle glance.
Arthur: So who the hell is upstairs, then?
Yellow: The wall that the stairs occupy is the same one with the piano. Your immediate left.
Yellow: There’s a man, sitting at a table opposite the piano wall. He seems to be looking at a paperback novel. He’s nodding to you.
Arthur: [To the man] Morning. [Aside, to Yellow] Last night you mentioned newspaper clippings, didn’t you?
Yellow: Yes, they’re on the wall here. Surrounding the piano.
Arthur: Seems odd, no? A bar like this to have articles of any kind.
Yellow: I don’t know what’s odd.
Arthur: I just mean, they don’t seem the learned type. But maybe that’s a gross misconception on my part. Anyway, what do the articles say?
Yellow: One reads: Claim of Coal Mine by Larson, births mining town. Droves of miners have sought work in and around the base of Mt. Hoosuc, as locals de…
Yellow: Yes. You know it?
Arthur: Yes, it’s west, far west of Arkham! A couple hundred miles, but that means we’re close to home! [Laughs, exited] Go on, go on!
Yellow: As local supply lines sprout up in the promise of new business. It… uh… goes on to talk about Addison and how it’s flourishing.
Arthur: Amazing… amazing…!
Yellow: Yeah, well that was dated 1873.
Arthur: Oh, well that’s 60 odd years ago.
Yellow: Hm. Here’s a more recent one. 1916, The Caves Run Dry in Addison. Larson Mining Company, a once profitable investment to many a local has closed its mine in Addison this year. Speculation around the event is high as Larson is famously reclusive in his estate high atop Mt. Hoosuc.
Yellow: Other articles here speak of a nearby college creating an observatory on the mountain.
Yellow: Yes. Oh! There’s a map here as well!
Arthur: A map? Of the town?
Yellow: Yes. It looks hand drawn… in a way. It’s nailed to the wall, and looks as though it’s been wet and dried many times over. The brown paper edges curl up from the wood behind. The black charcoal etchings seem almost… I don’t know. Childlike.
Yellow: Something etched here. In the wall. A symbol, perhaps?
Arthur: A symbol?
Yellow: No, a word.
Yellow: Words! It says something. It says ‘Day Comes... When the…’
Arthur: What’s that sound?
Yellow: What? I don’t know. ‘Day comes when the wind is done…’
Arthur: What is that? It’s coming from the wall.
Yellow: There’s a hole here.
Arthur: A hole?
Heavy, raspy breathing.
Man: It’s a local saying.
Arthur: [Startled] What?
Yellow: The man that was reading at the table opposite.
Arthur: Oh, yeah.
Man: ‘Day comes when the wind is done holding the dark.’ It’s been there for as long as anyone remembers, apparently.
Arthur: The owners?
Man: No, someone local carved it into the wall of the place. Though they never thought to cover it.
Arthur: Well, you know...
Man: Superstitions are heavy in parts of the world such as these.
Arthur: And what parts are those?
Man: You know…
Yellow: The man is older, his hair is grey and greasy. It hangs to the back of his neck. He sports a thick mustache and the makings of a beard. He has a set of half-wire rimmed glasses sitting low on his nose. Smoke curls from a cigarette that sits in his hand next to the open book before him. He’s gesturing to the chair opposite him.
Footsteps. Arthur takes a seat.
Man: You’re not from around here, either.
Arthur: You’re passing through?
Man: You could say, yes. As many of us do.
Arthur: What brought you here?
Man: Oh… It would be difficult to choose only one thing, but if I were put on the spot, I’d have to say… love.
Man: Yes. A burning love for truth. Knowing. Understanding.
Arthur: Understanding? How so?
Man: There’s a place, on this earth, where light doesn’t touch. It’s a place of unfathomable depth. Where the crashing waves and churning, nightmarish storms are but memories… darkness so black, so all consuming, that light can be… only dreamt of… only hoped for. This place exists, friend.
Man: Some call it, Addison, sure. But there are many names it goes by.
Arthur: What name do you call it?
Man: The Unknowing.
Arthur: And that brought you here?
Man: Seeking it brought me here, yes.
Arthur: That seems like an idea though, not love. Not a truth.
Man: It is all of those things. This is a dark place my friend. Those who come here by choice, stay only to glimpse into the abyss. Those who come here by chance find quick reason to leave.
Arthur: What of those who live here?
Man: You know what is said about those who gaze into the abyss.
Yellow: What does he mean by that?
Man: I take it you are one finding quick reason to leave?
Arthur: Yes, I suppose so.
Man: You’ll be sorry to hear that the only road in and out is not passable until the thaw.
Arthur: That can’t be.
Man: Perhaps with an automobile, but… not on foot. One would not be wise to head out on foot.
Arthur: Surely that can’t be the only option.
Yellow: Who else has an automobile?.
Arthur: Yes, does anyone else have a vehicle?
Yellow: The book he’s reading — he’s softly closed in front of him. He seems to be thinking as he takes a drag from his cigarette.
Man: I do recall awhile back a man who was here to try to purchase land from Larson. He had a vehicle, but he didn’t know well enough. Larsons: very private people. Shy and the like.
Main piano theme plays
Arthur: How long ago was that?
Man: A few years, I think.
Arthur: Wait, how long have you been here? In Addison.
Man: Ten years this May, I believe.
Arthur: I thought you said you were passing through?
Man: I am. Addison tends to hold on to you until it is done, thus the saying: day comes when the wind is done holding the dark. You’ll leave Addison when it lets you leave.
Arthur: Is that so?
Man: This town, my young friend, was birthed on the graves of the countless dead. Their bodies are one with the mountain, like mortar within the walls of those mines, binding the columns between the tunnels.
Arthur: Whose bodies?
Man: They watch over us all. He watches those who are not strong enough to leave.
Arthur: I’m confused. Are you speaking of Addison, or Mr. Larson?
Man: Oh there was also a man here, about a month back to survey the mine. He made camp near the entrance of the mine. Folks say he had access to a vehicle.
Arthur: Okay, well thank you, Mr. …?
Arthur: Thank you, Mr. Irvine. I hope you enjoy the book.
Irvine: Thank you
Footsteps. Eerie violins — a quiet growl
Yellow: Arthur, someone is heading down the stairs.
Irvine: I saw you last night. I’m glad you chose to stay.
Yellow: Arthur, there’s a huge man — he wasn’t in here last night. He walks as if his feet are made of lead. His shoulders are broad, his arms like tree trunks. He’s a massive creature but his face, his features are… animalistic. His eyes are orange and slitted as they search around the room. Large bumps on either side of his head make him look almost…I don’t know. Ram-like! He’s looking at us.
Yellow: He’s leaving.
Irvine: It seems you’ve already drawn the ire of the Larson family, my boy.
Arthur: What does that mean?
Irvine gets up from his chair.
Irvine: Just wait for day.
Arthur: It is day.
Arthur: Fuck. Ram-like?
Yellow: I don’t know how to explain it, Arthur, other than his skin had patchy fur on it, his eyes were like that of a goat. I don’t know what to tell you!
Arthur: Why was he in our room?
Yellow: I don’t know!
Arthur: We need to get the fuck out of here.
Yellow: How? The roads are all frozen over.
Arthur: He mentioned someone, someone who came to see Larson.
Yellow: We’re not going to Larson.
Arthur: What about the surveyor? Irvine said a surveyor camped out by the mines, he said he had access to a vehicle.
Yellow: Either way we need to get our stuff and move, we can’t stay here any longer.
Arthur: I know, I know.
Yellow: So start moving!
Arthur: I am, I will! I suppose heading to the surveyors camp is the easiest option, right?
Yellow: Sure, just move. Who knows what may come looking for us next.
Arthur gets up from the table and heads upstairs
Arthur: Is the door still…?
Yellow: It’s closed now.
Short piano stinger plays
Yellow: Well. What are you waiting for?
Arthur: I don’t know… I feel uneased. What did he do in there? What was he waiting for?
Yellow: If you wanted to find out, you would’ve went in. You chose to play detective.
Arthur: I am a detective, but you’re right.
Arthur: Everything look the same?
Yellow: What the hell does that mean? Yes. Why are you being so weird?
Arthur: Doesn’t it irk you? Someone was in here, where we were, waiting for us… I-I don’t know.
Yellow: No, it doesn’t irk me. Perhaps because I have no agency in this body we share, the idea of someone occupying a space I rented seems relatively inconsequential.
Arthur: Huh… fair. Alright.
Rummaging through the bag
Arthur: Anything missing from the bag?
Yellow: What is supposed to be inside the bag?
Arthur: Oh… ummm… [Following Kayne’s rhyme while main theme plays] the glass, the stone, the mask the books, the tooth, the coin, the wallet and… [Stops, as if realizing he’s following the rhyme] and some hooks… um the shaving kit… and my, uh, lighter… should be…in here…somewhere…
Yellow: What lighter?
Arthur: The lighter you… I used it... oh...
Arthur: Oh, it’s here, in my… in my jacket. W-Wait, didn’t I just…?
Yellow: Arthur, is everything there?
Arthur: Yes, yes, I just…
Yellow: What’s this? This silver thing.
Arthur: What silver thing? I don’t—
Yellow: Looks like it’s stained with blood. It’s a small box.
Arthur: Oh. Oh…
Faroe’s Lullaby plays
Yellow: Was it here before?
Arthur: [Quieter] Yes, yes.
Yellow: Well what is it?
Arthur: N-nothing. It…
Yellow: Fine. Then let’s leave. We’ve paid, slept, you’ve shaved and taken a much-needed bath. Is there anything else for us here?
Arthur: [Sigh] No.
Arthur: Good. Let’s say goodbye to the Red-Right Hand.
Arthur leaves the room, heads downstairs
Transcribed by the amazing Croik! My absolute appreciation to them for their effort and patience in making this.