Part 57 "The Fallen Seed"

PART FIFTY-SEVEN: THE FALLEN SEED

Transcripts made and edited by jack

CWs: vomiting, discussion of past child drowning, discussion of past parental death, amputation/self-mutilation, sounds/discussions of gore/blood, discussion of imprisonment

 

(BEGIN Part 57.)

 

(Distant footsteps and creaking doors. Arthur gasps. A baby gurgles.)

 

ARTHUR: Oh, wow. (He sniffs.) Yeah. W-Well, um. We, uh. Uh. I, uh… I like the name… ‘Faroe’. 

 

(Everything quiets. ‘Faroe’s Light’ begins. The sound of running water. A baby gurgles.)

 

ARTHUR (lovingly): Okay. Okay. Ye – Cover your eyes. (Amusedly.) You don’t… You don’t know what I’m saying, but I’m telling you to cover your eyes. Hold on, hold on! Okay. T-There! There. Okay. Let me… Let me… there you go. Dry face. (Cooing.) Hi. Hi. (Splashing water.)

 

(Thunder rumbles. Arthur shushes. A baby cries throughout.)

 

ARTHUR (soothing): I know. It’s okay. Daddy’s here. Aw. It’s okay. 

 

(Turning pages. Crickets chirp.)

 

ARTHUR: ‘Now I was coming to gobble you up,’ roared the troll.

 

FAROE: Yeah!

 

ARTHUR (higher register): ‘Well, come along! I’ve got two spears and I’ll poke your eyeballs out of your ears!’ (He laughs. Quieter.) Are you scared?

 

(Faroe babbles.)

 

ARTHUR: Ooh?

 

(She babbles again.)

 

(Wooden tapping.)

 

ARTHUR: No, no. Your hands are too small. Here, hold your hand up. Here.

 

FAROE: It daddy’s.

 

ARTHUR: Yeah, Daddy’s is bigger! That’s right! I think these notes are too difficult for you.

 

FAROE: Big.

 

ARTHUR: But it’s called ‘Faroe’s Song’. I wrote it for you. Do you like it? 

 

FAROE: Yeah.

 

(Everything quiets. Creaking wood, growing more severe. Eventually, it splits. Arthur coughs and throws up. He continues to make noises of distress. Crunching leaves.) 

 

TRADER (angry): Why do you follow!? 

 

(‘Faroe’s Light’ begins.)

 

ARTHUR (coughing): What… What…? 

 

TRADER: Why do you follow me?

 

ARTHUR: I’m not following you! You fucking… (In astonishment.) Trader!?

 

TRADER: Hmph!

 

ARTHUR: Where… What… how…

 

TRADER: I am not a cana. I do not answer such questions. (Arthur groans.)

 

ARTHUR: Where am I? (Trader growls.) Oh, fuck off, Trader! I just died. 

 

TRADER: You were just born! 

 

ARTHUR: What?

 

TRADER: From that.

 

ARTHUR: I still can’t see, why… why can’t I see? I… John? (Calling out. A high-pitched, eerie ringing.) John! (In pain.) Oh, God. 

 

TRADER: Stop following me!

 

ARTHUR: I’m not following you, you moron! What are you pointing at, I can’t see?

 

TRADER: A Corvax tree. 

 

ARTHUR: The… tree? The woods! I… I’m back in the Dreamlands. The forest. I… (In amazement.) My pinkie. It’s grown back. My scars… are gone. I don’t understand. I came from the tree? What does it do? 

 

TRADER: I am not a –

 

ARTHUR (aggravated): If you say ‘cana’ one more time, I s… 

 

(Trader scoffs.)

 

TRADER: It does what any plant should do. Grow. 

 

ARTHUR: It grows? (Eerie ringing, unintelligible voices. Arthur groans in pain.) What is that? Do you hear that? 

 

TRADER: I don’t hear anything. Are you trading or not? 

 

ARTHUR: No, I’m not. (He groans.)

 

TRADER: Then stop following me.

 

ARTHUR: You’re saying this tree, it… it grew… a new me? 

 

TRADER: Did you let it?

 

ARTHUR: I left… I left a piece of me, yes, the-the tip of my pinkie. And from that, it… it grew a whole me? 

 

(High pitched ringing, unintelligible murmurs. Arthur reacts in pain.)

 

TRADER: I don’t care. 

 

ARTHUR: I can feel… what is that?

 

TRADER: Leave me alone.

 

ARTHUR: Wait. Wait, come back! (Distant footsteps.) Something is… Something is… (Arthur groans in pain. A cracking noise. A slow melody begins.)

 

LILLITH: Where am I? What is this? 

 

ARTHUR: You! 

 

LILLITH: Who… what has happened?

 

ARTHUR: You’re dead.

 

LILLITH: Dead? What? (A small pause.) Who are you? 

 

ARTHUR: You don’t… remember. 

 

LILLITH: I… 

 

ARTHUR (vindictive): Well, my name… is Arthur Lester. Or, it was. 

 

LILLITH: How… How did you die?

 

ARTHUR: I died saving a friend. Someone I cared for… deeply. But I didn’t have to die. 

 

LILLITH: No?

 

ARTHUR: No. You gave me no other option.

 

LILLITH: Me?

 

ARTHUR: You. Lillith. Scratch. Whatever name you prefer to be called. The daughter of Nyarlathotep, offspring of Kayne. You… You buried your soul within my arm like a tick and slid along unnoticed until it really mattered. Just waiting! Look, the fake forgetfulness is not fooling me. I’m not going to be manipulated by you again.

 

LILLITH: I… Lillith…

 

ARTHUR: Don’t play dumb. Don’t try –

 

LILLITH: I… do. I do. 

 

ARTHUR: I know you do.

 

LILLITH: But I… you… Arthur Lester. Yes! I remember you. Kayne… you were meant to bring me Kayne. (Angry.) You idiot! 

 

ARTHUR (affronted): Idiot?

 

LILLITH: Yes. How long I waited by that fire, listening to your stupid stories! All the while, you simply needed to touch the Stone, to call to him.

 

ARTHUR: You killed… so many of my friends!

 

LILLITH: I did not. Mother Darkness, angered by my request to leave you be, meddled.

 

ARTHUR: Lying again, over and over. What is it you want?

 

LILLITH (roaring): I wanted Kayne dead! And because of you… because you built that Hand of Malevolence, because you failed at the simplest task, you killed me!

 

ARTHUR: How dare you turn this around on me?

 

LILLITH: I was mad to put all my hopes on you. Foolish to –

 

ARTHUR: All your hopes? You don’t know me. I’m not your favorite, I’m not even your friend!

 

LILLITH: Oh, but you are. You’ve been my favorite long before you even know.

 

ARTHUR (quieter): Oh. You mean back when you killed my parents. 

 

LILLITH: Where are we? What are these woods? (Leaves shifting.) I don’t recognize this place. 

 

ARTHUR (bitter): You can see, of course you can.

 

LILLITH: You’re naked, covered in a viscous, sticky…

 

ARTHUR: Yes, I know. (Leaves shifting.) Jesus. 

 

LILLITH: What?

 

ARTHUR: Just… this new body, I-I can’t… I can’t quite wrap my head around it. My senses… all but my sight, I-I mean, I can smell… more, I can sense more. Like, for the first time. 

 

LILLITH: How did this happen?

 

ARTHUR: I left a piece of myself here, last time. Here. M-My pinkie. 

 

LILLITH: Huh. Yes, the color of the flesh is darker. More worn. Slightly more tanned. How amusing.

 

ARTHUR: What are you? (High-pitched ringing.) What are you…? (Arthur grunts in exertion. Panicked.) How are you moving my hand? You –

 

LILLITH: Yes. This will do nicely.

 

ARTHUR (desperate): Stop! Stop that! I said stop! (Lillith grunts in exertion.)

 

LILLITH: I’m much more powerful than the King in Yellow, Arthur.

 

ARTHUR: How are you doing that? 

 

LILLITH: It won’t take me long.

 

ARTHUR: I said stop. How are you moving my hand? (Furious.) I said stop! 

 

(He gasps for breath. A short pause.)

 

LILLITH: Very well. 

 

ARTHUR: Why you? Of all people, of all things. How could you –

 

LILLITH: Whether you like to believe it or not, Arthur, I didn’t do this to you. I’m barely aware of what’s happened, since… Kayne… showed up.

 

ARTHUR: Barely. (Shifting leaves.)

 

LILLITH: I heard a voice here and there. A guiding word from a friend. 

 

ARTHUR: You ruined everything!

 

LILLITH: I ruined everything? All you had to do… was grab the Stone. Why wasn’t it there in the chest?

 

ARTHUR: I don’t know. I’ve been treated like a pawn in this game between you two.

 

LILLITH: Then you’d better stop acting like a pawn.

 

ARTHUR: I haven’t been –

 

LILLITH: Because this is the endgame, kid. There are greater things at stake than you can imagine.

 

ARTHUR: Like Kayne trying to kill Azathoth?

 

LILLITH: Glad you were paying attention.

 

ARTHUR: I was paying attention. Especially to the part where you killed my parents.

 

LILLITH: What a sob story. You think I care, kid?

 

ARTHUR: Dropping the pretense now, is it? What happened to the coy and unaffected Lillith I met by the fire? The one who thought she held all the cards?

 

LILLITH: She’s dead.  Remember? Now. If you want any shot at a reality, to have any of your family still exist within, you better let me take control of this body. (High pitched ringing.)

 

ARTHUR (exerting himself): No! No.

 

LILLITH (disgusted): You pitiful human. Arthur! I can do so much more!

 

ARTHUR: You will not! (Arthur and Lillith huff.) Look, whether you see it or not, I am not just on this ride. I am running it. Moreover, I’ve been instrumental in all of this. Kayne came to me first.

 

LILLITH (quickly): Didn’t you wonder why? (‘Faroe’s Song’ begins.)

 

ARTHUR: What?

 

LILLITH: Forget it. Fine. Maybe you’ve gotten lucky a few times.

 

ARTHUR: A few times! Getting the Blackstone, surviving the gauntlets of the Gug, the Dark Young, creatures from… beyond! Let’s not forget releasing the great and powerful Lillith. That’s right. Without me, you wouldn’t be here. Now, how about a little respect for this pitiful human? 

 

LILLITH: Fine. For now. 

 

ARTHUR: Wonderful. Besides, I don’t see much use in your… dreamwalking or your shapeshifting abilities right now.

 

LILLITH: If I were in control, I could make us become anyone we wanted, Arthur. That doesn’t seem beneficial to you?

 

ARTHUR (forthright): Right now? Standing naked, in the forest? No.

 

LILLITH: Well. I can still sound like anyone you want, Arthur. (An otherworldly zap.)

 

NOT-JOHN: Does this bring you more comfort? (Arthur sighs.) Would… you be more willing to work with me if I sounded like this? (Imitating.) ‘Fuck, Arthur, you fucking idiot! We fucking did it.’

 

ARTHUR: Oh my – (An otherworldly zap.)

 

NOT-KELLIN: Or how about this? We did this one before. Remember? In our first nightmare? 

 

ARTHUR (tired): Stop. (An otherworldly zap.)

 

NOT-LARSON: Do you forget that I know all about you? 

 

ARTHUR: Lillith. (An otherworldly zap.)

 

NOT-OSCAR: Have you forgotten that I’ve seen your past? 

 

ARTHUR (louder): Lillith. (An otherworldly zap.)

 

NOT-DETECTIVE NOEL: We may be sharing a body, but we shared a brain once, too, Artie!

 

ARTHUR: Enough. (An otherworldly zap.)

 

LILLITH: I’m being serious. We do need to work together if you and I are gonna survive this thing. And stop Kayne. I need you to hear me. So who do you want me to be? 

 

ARTHUR: J-Just be who you are! Be Scratch, or Lillith, or whatever this is.

 

LILLITH: Very well.

 

ARTHUR: Doesn’t matter to me. (A slow melody begins.)

 

LILLITH: It may not seem important to you now, but my powers, my… presence… my abilities… may be the very thing we need to defeat Kayne.

 

ARTHUR: Who gives a shit about your powers, Lillith?

 

LILLITH (fiercely): I do!

 

ARTHUR: Why? Of what value is it to you? What does it matter what you can do? (Lillith huffs.) What you do with it, that’s all anyone gives a shit about. 

 

LILLITH: What the fuck are you even talking about?

 

ARTHUR: Nothing you’d understand.

 

LILLITH (faux innocently): Oh, is this the humanity ploy? The one that worked so well on your little doe-eyed voice –

 

ARTHUR: Shut up.

 

LILLITH: Oh, don’t worry. I’m not as weak as him. I know where humanity stands in my book. I’ve seen enough of it to last… well, I suppose my lifetime.

 

ARTHUR: Oh, I’m well aware of your view on humanity. I can see you desperately trying to claw it from me. 

 

LILLITH (laughing): Desperate… for this? This body is a means to an end, kid. Maybe Johnny would have been happy living out his days in mortal flesh, but he’s always been quite dim.

 

(More shifting leaves, more footsteps.)

 

ARTHUR: You…

 

LILLITH (cooing): Oh. Don’t worry about hurting my feelings. I’m not Yellow, either. Quite the pair they are, aren’t they? You’d think both their lightbulbs had burned out, the way they’d let you get under their skin. 

 

ARTHUR: Is this your idea of working together?

 

LILLITH: I mean it. I mean, maybe the lights were on, but nobody was home.

 

ARTHUR (disgusted): What the fuck is your problem?

 

LILLITH (intense): My problem? I think I’ve made that abundantly clear.

 

ARTHUR: Yes. I get it. You hate humans. You find them inferior, you kill them without remorse. Mm, where have I heard that song before? Oh, right, Daddy Kayne wrote the tune.

 

LILLITH (roaring): I am no daughter of Kayne!

 

ARTHUR: Yeah, that really riled you up last time, didn’t it? Such issues.

 

LILLITH: You’re one to talk.

 

ARTHUR: Watch it.

 

LILLITH: Or what? (‘Faroe’s Lullaby’ begins.)  You drowned your daughter, Arthur. You think I don’t know that? I know everything. I dived deeply into that empty vat of a brain you have and dredged up all the silt that filled the trenches at the bottom. James? Your wife? Leaving her to die? 

 

You killed your kid. Is that something you’re not okay to hear? Seems like something you shouldn’t have a choice in, doesn’t it?

 

(Growing anger.) If someone kills a child, should it be their decision to no longer hear about it? Or should it be the decision of those around the child murderer to choose when to talk about it? (A short pause. Calmly.) Ah. I found the ‘shut the fuck up, Arthur’ switch, it seems.

 

ARTHUR: I didn’t murder her.

 

LILLITH: Is that so? In your mind, it sure seemed pretty clear. What exactly happened? Set the record straight. (Footsteps. A short pause. Gleefully.) You still can’t even talk about it. (Lillith inhales, as if to speak again.)

 

ARTHUR: She climbed… into the bath. The housekeeper, Tess… left some water in the tub, I… I didn’t pay attention. Faroe turned the tap back on and she climbed in. She thought she could do it herself. She was… very independent. 

 

LILLITH: So… the water is to blame.

 

ARTHUR: No. I’m to blame. 

 

LILLITH (sarcastically): Sure. Just like I murdered your parents. Right?

 

ARTHUR: Right.

 

LILLITH: Isn’t that what you say? Isn’t that how this works? We turn on each other, I jab you, you jab me, we spiral out of control, promise not to talk to one another for a while, and then say we love each other, right before sacrificing ourselves to save the other? Right? (Footsteps. Shifting leaves.) Oh. Come on, now. 

 

ARTHUR: What is your goal, here?

 

LILLITH (aghast): Goal? Did you want to pin me for murder, Arthur?

 

ARTHUR: You don’t give a shit about murder. I, I forgot who I’m dealing with.

 

LILLITH: I don’t give a shit about murder?

 

ARTHUR (quoting): ‘Murder, a word said with such vitriol, such meaning, as if you are anything more than a collection of cells and –’

 

LILLITH: Oh. Yeah, I did say that, didn’t I?

 

ARTHUR: You know, I’d say that I see right through you, but… but I believe your anger. 

 

LILLITH: I’m that good of an actor?

 

ARTHUR: No, y-you’re just trying to appear uncaring. You are angry. You’re angry about Faroe, you… (A long pause.) I’m sorry. (A slow melody begins.)

 

LILLITH: What? You’re sorry? For what? (Lillith cackles.)

 

ARTHUR: I’m sorry my daughter died because of my neglect.

 

LILLITH: What are you apologizing to me for? Why on Earth –

 

ARTHUR: I believed you when you said you freed Alia. When you gave her dreams, a peaceful end. 

 

LILLITH: You bought tha –

 

ARTHUR: Stop. Just stop. I don’t know what compels you to not allow yourself to be honest, but I-I know you’re angry with me. You’re angry at me for the same reason that you helped Alia. You care.

 

LILLITH: Sure.

 

ARTHUR (gently): You do. You care about humanity. Why do you hide it? Why do you detest it so? Why do you hide the value that you see in –

 

LILLITH (darkly): There is no value in humanity. 

 

ARTHUR: Fine. Then why prick me right after saying we need to work together? You couldn’t help it. You needed to get it off your chest. Hey! That’s okay. For what it’s worth… it’s the greatest regret of my life. And there isn’t a day that goes by… I don’t wish I had gotten up from that piano. One moment more with Faroe is all I ever wanted. (Emotionally.) It’s my heaven. 

 

LILLITH: Of course there’s truth in what you say. I suppose a neglectful father strikes me at a different level, but that’s neither here nor there. (Growing anger.) We do need to work together and I let my emotions get the better of me but there isn’t a world where you don’t deserve every word and more.

 

ARTHUR: Agreed, on all fronts.

 

LILLITH: Now. Kayne.

 

ARTHUR: Kayne.

 

LILLITH: He needs the Obelisk in order to complete his plan.

 

ARTHUR: The Obelisk?

 

LILLITH: He may have all three Stones, but he needs to put them somewhere.

 

ARTHUR: Well, where is the Obelisk?

 

LILLITH: I don’t know. And even if I did, I wouldn’t tell you. You’re too easy to read.

 

ARTHUR: To read?

 

LILLITH: In fact, I think it’s best if you don’t know much of my plan. Only what’s necessary.

 

ARTHUR: Hold on. You told me to stop being a pawn.

 

LILLITH: That was before I remembered how easily I tricked you, how quickly I shook you to your core.

 

ARTHUR: If we’re doing this… we’re doing this together.

 

LILLITH: Until I find a way to take over, sure. Tell yourself that. (Rising whispers.)

 

ARTHUR: No! (The whispers vanish.) Lillith, I have been through too much. I have lost… too much. Whether you know it or not, I am the key to stopping Kayne. And whatever plans you have… you’re going to tell me. 

 

LILLITH (thoughtfully): Huh. Fine. (‘Faroe’s Song’ begins.) So long as you understand that there will be a few things I do need to keep to myself. But they will only be what is absolutely necessary. Agreed?

 

ARTHUR: Agreed.

 

LILLITH: Good.

 

ARTHUR: Where is the obelisk?

 

LILLITH: I told you I don’t know, but it’s somewhere safe.

 

ARTHUR (frustrated): I just –

 

LILLITH: Someone is buying us time.

 

ARTHUR: The Manager.

 

LILLITH: The Manager, yes. Kayne can sense the damn thing, regardless of where or what time. So, when I give him the go-ahead, the Manager will let Kayne know where the Obelisk is.

 

ARTHUR: Why would we want that?

 

LILLITH: To guarantee a place where Kayne will be.

 

ARTHUR: And then?

 

LILLITH: And then? I will kill him. 

 

ARTHUR: That’s your plan. Kill Kayne. It didn’t work so well the last time.

 

LILLITH (defensive): It didn’t work so well because you and that fucking skull made a Hand of Malevolence. On what earth, through what odds, would Kayne have the foresight to make that? I underestimated him, sure. But that won’t happen again.

 

ARTHUR: Fine. How do we kill him? How do we get there, w-where do we start, we – ?

 

LILLITH: We start with leaving these fucking woods. Nothing matters until we’re out of the Dreamlands.

 

ARTHUR: Out?

 

LILLITH: Yes, the plateau of Leng. You left through it last time, remember?

 

ARTHUR: Because the King –

 

LILLITH: Booted you out, and yes. But the air is still thinnest there, and it should work again. 

 

ARTHUR (hesitant): You don’t… think John is…

 

LILLITH: I don’t know and I don’t care. The woods are our first priority. We need to leave and we need to –

 

ARTHUR: The Trader. I’m sure he has clothes, things I-I can –

 

LILLITH: We don’t need clothes. We don’t need things.

 

ARTHUR: Listen, Lillith. Clearly it’s been a long fucking time for you, if you were ever human at all. I can’t survive without some basic, and I mean fucking basic, items. Last time I was here, I nearly lost an eye to the sandstorm. I’m not walking the desert, bare-assed –

 

LILLITH: Okay. And what do you propose to trade with, Arthur? Unless you have something up your ass, I think all the good loot has been left behind. 

 

ARTHUR (realizing): No. No, not-not all. 

 

LILLITH: What?

 

ARTHUR: The lake. I-I was… when I first arrived, t-there was a… a lake. A-A-And near it… a-a shed, a…

 

LILLITH: Okay.

 

ARTHUR: I was… in the shed, there was a small box. With a-a knife, and a… a necklace. 

 

LILLITH (sarcastically): Wonderful!

 

ARTHUR: Listen! Those are two guaranteed things that I can trade with, and I know where they are.

 

LILLITH: Fine. Then we need to go get them. Let’s go.

 

ARTHUR: Wait!

 

LILLITH (distorting): What?

 

ARTHUR: Well, we can’t leave.

 

LILLITH: We can’t leave… why?

 

ARTHUR: I thought you dived deeply. 

 

LILLITH (realizing): No. 

 

ARTHUR: Yes. 

 

LILLITH: Are you insane?

 

ARTHUR: We need to do it again. I… I need to leave a piece of me, I…

 

LILLITH: Alright, idiot. I would bet there are literally dozens of different ways to leave this forest, but sure! Bite off your own pinkie again.

 

ARTHUR: Well, who said it was going to be mine?

 

LILLITH: They’re both yours.

 

ARTHUR: Yeah? I… 

 

LILLITH: Did you…?

 

ARTHUR: You wanted control. (Soft sliding noises, like skin against skin.) You can… feel that, can’t you? 

 

LILLITH: Was that from –

 

ARTHUR: From when you tried to take over, yes. Unfortunately. (Shifting leaves.)

 

LILLITH: Interesting. I barely noticed.

 

ARTHUR: Well, you’re going to.

 

LILLITH: I’ve been curious about pain. What it feels like. (Arthur grunts. Lillith howls in pain.) What the fuck was that!?

 

ARTHUR: A pinch on the back of the hand.

 

LILLITH: That was awful!

 

ARTHUR (amused): Oh my God.

 

LILLITH: That’s pain? (Arthur starts, but Lillith interrupts.) D-D-D-D-Don’t! Don’t bite my pinkie.

 

ARTHUR: Oh, believe me, I will.

 

LILLITH (overeager): No, please, listen, Arthur. Okay. I’m on board. Let’s leave. Let’s get out. Okay? I just don’t – j-just… do it to your own hand.

 

ARTHUR: No!

 

LILLITH: Come on. You.. hey. You’ve done this before, you-you-you – you’re used to it! I’m not. (Arthur sighs.) Please. Please. Please.

 

ARTHUR (exhaling): I-I can’t believe you. You speak with such vitriol! You openly mock me and my dead child, you speak about wanting to take over my body, destroy my existence. A-And – And yet I still feel compelled… to spare you pain.

 

LILLITH: Wait. Really? 

 

ARTHUR: I… I guess so.

 

LILLITH: Good, good. Thank you. T-That’s the kindest… that’s the kindest thing you could’ve done. Thank you. Thank you, sincerely.

 

ARTHUR: Yeah, I-I-I guess John did it last time, so I suppose… it’s my time to make the sacrifice.

 

LILLITH: Yes, yes. D-Do that. (Arthur sighs. A pause.) Well?

 

ARTHUR (impatient): I’m doing it. Relax. 

 

LILLITH: Good. Good, good. Yes. Just like that. Remember, bite hard. 

 

ARTHUR (muffled): I know. Believe me. (Rising whispers: some say ‘yes’.) This too shall –

 

LILLITH: Bite it. (Arthur exhales, then muffledly screams in pain. Sounds of blood and gore. A high pitched ringing. Arthur spits.)

 

ARTHUR: God! Oh, damn it!

 

LILLITH: Arthur.

 

(Arthur continues to make noises of pain.)

 

ARTHUR: Oh. Oh, I feel…

 

LILLITH (brightly): Arthur.

 

ARTHUR: S… Stop it, stop…

 

LILLITH: Please. Don’t fight it. 

 

ARTHUR (panting): No no no no no no…

 

LILLITH: You’re bleeding. 

 

ARTHUR: No. (Arthur breathes heavily.)

 

LILLITH: You must feel light-headed.

 

ARTHUR: No. (Arthur’s noises turn groggier.)

 

LILLITH: Close your eyes. Close them. Don’t fight it. (Arthur mumbles incoherently. Lillith shushes him.) I’ll take over now. 

 

(A thunderclap. Everything quiets.)

 

JOHN (echoing): Arthur! What the fuck are you doing, Arthur? She is not me, you idiot! She’s not Yellow. Stop acting like a child! Stop letting her walk all over you! Fight! Fight, god damn it, fight!

 

(An otherworldly howl. Arthur gasps to life. Footsteps.) 

 

LILLITH: Stop!

 

ARTHUR (startled): What is –

 

LILLITH: Stop!

 

ARTHUR: Where are we?

 

LILLITH: I have control of this body now. This is mine!

 

ARTHUR (roaring): No! No! (Arthur pants. Footsteps.) What the fuck did you do? Where are we? W –

 

LILLITH: I did exactly what needs to be done.

 

ARTHUR: You controlled me, you moved me, you… you walked for me, you, you –

 

LILLITH: This vessel is mine, god damn it, and you will bow to me in one way or another! 

 

(An impact. Arthur grunts in pain.)

 

ARTHUR: Jesus Christ.

 

LILLITH: I have torn the flesh from humans stronger than you, Arthur Lester. I have hunted and haunted the lifelines of those who have done less than the ways you’ve wronged me. (Arthur gasps. Distorting voice.) I will devour your soul before I play guest in this body! (Lillith roars.)

 

ARTHUR (screaming): No! This is my body! Whether you like it or not.

 

LILLITH: I am the essence of nightmares. I am limitless, how dare you pretend to hold me –

 

ARTHUR: You are no longer that person, Lillith!

 

LILLITH: I am and will continue to be!

 

ARTHUR: You are… not! (He growls in exertion.) And the sooner you realize that… the better. (Almost to himself.) What is this? Do you… do you not understand what’s happening? Even if you controlled all of me, like… like you clearly have done and are… (He groans in effort.) Still trying to do! You are no longer that person. You are… limited. 

 

LILLITH: I refuse to believe that.

 

ARTHUR: Well, tough fucking shit, Lillith! ‘Cause it’s true. (A short pause.) Furthermore, it… it doesn’t need to be a weakness.

 

LILLITH: Oh, fuck off and die with your bullshit lines about humanity and hope and the fire! I refuse to acknowledge the insignificance of your existence. (Distorting voice.) You are meaningless.

 

ARTHUR: I don’t care what you think. I’m no longer here to convince you otherwise, I am telling you… that my limitations have made me strong.

 

LILLITH (quietly): You don’t know what strength is.

 

ARTHUR: And neither do you. (A slow melody begins.) Look at you, eons of your own free will and the first moment it’s taken away from you, you flail around, desperate to cling onto any semblance of what you were before.

 

LILLITH: You think comparing me to that idiot you called friend will convince me to see the good in this arrangement?

 

ARTHUR: Oh, I am not comparing you to John. (Lillith huffs.) You are far, far worse at this. You know, he massaged my ego, he immediately understood the limitations and when given the chance… when given the choice to return… to his true form… he debated it, heavily. Because he knew he was giving up something by leaving all of this behind. 

 

LILLITH (frustrated): What the fuck was he leaving behind? There is nothing here. And being a god… I have everything. Answer me. (A short pause. Distorted.) Answer me. Oh. I see. 

 

ARTHUR: You really don’t.

 

LILLITH: Because I can’t understand why the King in Yellow would want to give up his power, you think I don’t understand. 

 

ARTHUR: Do you? 

 

LILLITH: There is… nothing to understand. 

 

ARTHUR: You’re just as ignorant as your Daddy. (He exhales.) Where are we? It feels… colder now. 

 

LILLITH: You passed out. It’s been a few hours. I moved you quite a bit.

 

ARTHUR: Moron, you don’t know where we’re heading!

 

LILLITH: We’re out of the woods, and I’m heading to the water.

 

ARTHUR: How do you know which way it is?

 

LILLITH: I listened.

 

ARTHUR: I can’t believe I took pity on you. That I… bit my own… (He gasps.)

 

LILLITH: Aw, yes. It’s gone. 

 

ARTHUR (in realization): My hand.

 

LILLITH: You should’ve watched the roots take hold.

 

ARTHUR: W-What’s happened, it’s not just…

 

LILLITH: It’s not just the top of your pinkie this time. (Lillith giggles.)

 

ARTHUR: My entire finger… (Scared.) You didn’t stop it! W-Why didn’t you –

 

LILLITH: It’s not my body, kid. I’m going to ride this until it dies and then either take over, or jump ship.

 

ARTHUR: My finger… 

 

LILLITH: Who cares. It’s just flesh. 

 

ARTHUR (teary): It’s my flesh! (‘Faroe’s Song’ begins.) It’s me. I… I think it’s me. How many pieces can I replace? Am I the ship of Theseus, or… or is this an entirely new vessel? Either way, t –

 

LILLITH: I don’t care.

 

ARTHUR: I’m not asking you!

 

LILLITH: Then why are you –

 

ARTHUR: Jesus Christ, you don’t have to fucking talk to me, then! I’m still allowed to talk to myself. I-I… I died, I walked into that light thinking… it was all over. I was prepared to die. And in that sleep of death… she was there. I think she was there, I… but now! Now I’m here again. New parts or the same, a-am I repeating the same mistakes or making all new ones? You’re not him, you’re not Yellow. You want me dead, you want to kill me. You let this forest take more of me, simply because you could. 

 

LILLITH: I did. But I don’t… want you dead. I believe you deserve death. I will either use you, or work with you, because both suit my needs equally well. But no matter the path, I care not for your feelings or your intentions. I will do what is necessary to stop Kayne. 

 

ARTHUR: How can I convince you that working together is better? For both of us.

 

LILLITH: It isn’t. (Mocking.) And even if it was, the way to convince me wouldn’t be to bite your own hand. That’s about the most pathetic thing I’ve ever seen. What a way to prove you’re not a pawn! Sparing a bit of pain from the person who killed your fucking parents? You are pathetic. (Lillith giggles.) Listen. Do you hear it now? 

 

(Splashing water.)

 

ARTHUR: Waves. 

 

LILLITH: See? I don’t need you. 

 

ARTHUR: I’ve noticed. 

 

LILLITH: Now walk. (Footsteps. A short pause.) Aw. Are you pouting now?

 

ARTHUR: No. Just at a loss for words.

 

LILLITH: What a surprise. I feel like you fundamentally don’t understand what I am.

 

ARTHUR: I don’t.

 

(A slow melody begins.)

 

LILLITH: The King in Yellow had his memory wiped, kid. He was a blank slate and you drew on that blank slate, in crayon, what it felt to be human. I am not a blank slate. I have toyed with humanity for eons upon eons. There is no bite of flesh I haven’t tasted, no horrors I haven’t witnessed. There is no room for you to paint your picture of humanity. And I’m happy to wear you down, bit by bit, until you see humanity… the way I do. See, this won’t be you convincing me of hope. This will end with me convincing you… the other way around. 

 

Here! The water. I see it. Keep going. (Footsteps.) Do we understand each other? I am not your pet. I’m not your friend. I’m not your poetry buddy, or the one in your corner. I’m the person who will make you remember why you’ve been so close to killing yourself, so many times throughout your life. (Brightly.) See? Even the parts of your past that you may not say aloud… (Distorted.) I’ve seen. I’ve watched it all, Arthur. Stop. There’s a shed up ahead. Head inside. Left here. (A door shuts. Footsteps.) Now, I saw the box, it was right by the door… ah, here! Stop! 

 

Down. Perfect. (Scrape of metal and the jingle of a chain.) And it still has a blade and a necklace and – (Lillith giggles. Mockingly.) Oh, you want to hold it with your hand? Fine. Fair play. See, you’re starting to understand me. You’re starting to truly get what it means to be… my favorite. 

 

Oh, and look, your precious clothes! And boots, too! (Growling.) Get dressed. (Sounds of fabric shifting. Arthur grunts in exertion.) I did find it rather hard to navigate the woods when you were so… fleshy. Look at your legs, all cut up. Guess I should’ve been more careful. Oops. (Lillith chuckles.)

 

(Growling.) Faster! I feel that taste of bile in your throat. I can feel you choking up, trying to hold back tears. (Simperingly.) Why? Why are you so sad? This is just the beginning, Arthur. (Arthur breathes shakily.) Just wait until I start choosing to sound… like Faroe. I will drive you mad. I will dig my claws so deeply into you that you beg me to take control of you. You have no… idea… what I am capable of. And – (She cuts off suddenly.) There’s a figure. By the water. On a dock, of sorts. (Distant footsteps.) It… It’s approaching. Arthur, the blade. Arthur! Use it. (Barking.) It’s almost here, Arthur! Use it. 

 

UNKNOWN VOICE (croaky): Hello.

 

ARTHUR (shakily): H-Hello.

 

LILLITH: Arthur, the thing, it’s – it’s hideous, it’s monstrous! Y-You can kill it.

 

UNKNOWN VOICE: Why do you cry?

 

LILLITH (desperate): Don’t talk to it!

 

ARTHUR (also desperate): The voice, I can’t… I can’t… it’s saying… it’s hurting me so, I…

 

LILLITH: Arthur, I – I’ll do it, give me the knife, I-I don’t want you to have to…

 

UNKNOWN VOICE:You do not need to listen.

 

LILLITH: Now! Do it, swipe out, Arthur!

 

ARTHUR: I can’t stop it. (He sobs.) I can always hear it.

 

LILLITH: Arthur!

 

UNKNOWN VOICE: That is not true. You have always been able to stop it. 

 

LILLITH: Arthur, don’t you dare…

 

ARTHUR: I can?

 

UNKNOWN VOICE: Silence your mind. Silence the voice. You are in control. 

 

LILLITH: Arthur, stab it, stab it, stab it, Arthur! 

 

(A thudding impact. Arthur sobs.)

 

ARTHUR: Oh God, oh thank God… she’s… she’s stopped. Cana? I-I… 

 

UNKNOWN VOICE: Hello, Arthur Lester. (‘Faroe’s Song’ begins.) It has been some time.

 

ARTHUR: I…

 

UNKNOWN VOICE: Come. Sit with me. 

 

(Plodding footsteps.)

 

ARTHUR: It’s all wrong, Lorick. It’s all wrong, I…

 

LORICK: It is not wrong. It is exactly as it should be.

 

ARTHUR: How did you know… How did you know I could do that? I can’t hear her, w-where is she?

 

LORICK: She is still here. She cannot hear you and you cannot hear her. But she is still here. You have always had the ability to do this.

 

ARTHUR: Always? 

 

LORICK: Yes. Though your previous voices had more positive things to say.

 

ARTHUR: She’s… vicious, Lorick. She’s monstrous…

 

LORICK: We all have the capacity for monstrous acts. She has done more than most and remembers all of them. But she has done good, as well. 

 

ARTHUR: I don’t… I don’t see how. I can’t see how to move forward, I… 

 

LORICK: Hope is what has kept you alive, Arthur. Hope is why she is with you now, whether she knows it or not. Hope is not what she had when she chose you for a higher purpose. 

 

ARTHUR: She… chose… me?

 

LORICK: You were her favorite. 

 

ARTHUR: What does that mean? I…

 

LORICK: It is not my job to tell you. I am merely here to help you silence your mind, to have space and peace for yourself. To show her… that you are not a puppet for her to use, but a man whose love will save us. 

 

(A gentle melody begins.)

 

ARTHUR: Lorick, I… I can’t… believe me… a-are you okay if I take these? The Trader –

 

LORICK: Please. They were there for you to take when you first arrived. They are yours now, still. 

 

ARTHUR: I met Charlie Dowd. The man you… helped escape. 

 

LORICK: Yes.

 

ARTHUR: He’s… I-I don’t know where. D-Do you?

 

LORICK: He lay at the threshold. 

 

ARTHUR: The threshold of what?

 

LORICK: That is not for me to say, nor do I truly know. 

 

ARTHUR: There’s so much I want to talk about, I have so many questions.

 

LORICK: Just sit. Rest. Let your mind rest a moment. She is doing everything in her power to corrupt you. You must not let her. 

 

ARTHUR: I’m trying, I… 

 

LORICK: There are many points in our lives that we question the road we are on. Many moments that offer doubt. Sometimes they are enough to have us question our values, our choices. And though your choices have led you here… they do not define you. 

 

ARTHUR: My choices?

 

LORICK: Hear me. No matter the choices you’ve made… your heart is what has been true. You desire to choose hope. To choose life. To exist. The desire to persevere in the face of danger… in the face of the impending darkness… these are concepts not only foreign to beings like the one you now share a body with, they are concepts that were previously impossible for them to perceive. It is the knowledge that all of this will end, that gives you your hope. Without knowing that you one day will die… you would not have this strength of will to see the world as you do. 

 

These beings have never faced mortality, and some… lash out now because of it. She will soon understand. She is bright, though she hides it. She is wise, though she has been hurt before. Lillith shares more in common with you than either of you realize. But do not bend to her will. Do not sacrifice your strength to comfort her. She does not take pity on those who are willing to submit. 

 

ARTHUR: I understand. 

 

LORICK: You cannot see it, but as a friend of yours once said… ‘You have the calm, cold demeanor of someone not to fuck with’. So act like it.  (Footsteps.)

 

ARTHUR: Wait. Wait, you’re leaving?

 

LORICK: I am.

 

ARTHUR (in a rush): Why? No. No no no, I-I have so many things to talk about, so many questions –

 

LORICK: I understand.

 

ARTHUR: What happened to John, is he here!? How do I stop Kayne? What do I do about –

 

LORICK: I cannot answer so many questions. (Arthur sighs.) But I will answer one. 

 

ARTHUR: One more. Okay. Okay. Um…

 

LORICK: Choose wisely. I know you have many questions. Some helpful, others not. Do not think of your friend. Do not think of your strife. Think of yourself. 

 

(Arthur exhales.)

 

ARTHUR: Myself. I… (Shifting.) I know my question. 

 

LORICK: Please.

 

ARTHUR (shaky): Why me? (A mysterious melody begins.) Why me? I-I… this whole journey, meeting the entity, waking up on my floor, losing Parker, losing myself… finding hope in darkness, bringing light to where there is none… I may have withstood the waters, but surely there… there were others that could’ve walked this path. Surely there are better men, stronger men… kinder men. Why me? 

 

(Plodding footsteps.)

 

LORICK: You ask the question as if an answer would satisfy. If I told you it was simply random chance, would you feel justified in your outrage? If you were to learn that Lillith chose you for this, that it was she who saw Kayne’s decision to kill Azathoth coming and chose you to aid in some way… would it make those trials you’ve faced worthwhile? If I told you that the Manager wanted to aid you because he felt loss, loss for a love he didn’t know he had, would that make your loss bearable? Arthur Lester. You have never been a man who focused on what made him different. As a young boy, you read the faded words of a framed poem on the wall of your father’s study, of space and dread and the dark. Your mouth, too small to speak most of the words, but those you did, you read aloud. (Quoting.) ‘Life… give me life… until the end.’

 

(A gentle melody begins.) It may not have been until you read the words of Invictus that you truly understood what it means to be alive, but as you sit here now, next to me, on the dock of this lake, in a world beyond the stars… you cannot deny feeling more alive than ever. For all the pain that may cause. (Arthur sighs.) You ask me why. I have many answers to your question, all are true. But there is only one that would give you, Arthur Lester, solace. 

 

ARTHUR: What is it?

 

LORICK: You already know it. 

 

ARTHUR: Why not me? 

 

LORICK: You are humanity. The death and missteps, the love and hate. The failures and successes. You carry with you the capacity for all of what life has to offer, and the very fact that you are simply one of many imperfect beings… makes you a perfectly suitable choice. 

 

(Arthur laughs, long and loud and giddy.)

 

LORICK: Besides. 

 

ARTHUR (pulling himself together): Ah, god.

 

LORICK: You would’ve volunteered, if you had a choice. (Plodding footsteps.)

 

ARTHUR: That stuff about Lillith choosing me. (He sighs.) Is that true?

 

LORICK: She will tell you when the time is right. She is not a friend, but she does not need to be an enemy. 

 

ARTHUR (sighing): Thank you, Lorick. 

 

LORICK: You are welcome, Arthur Lester. When you let her back in, do not forget who you truly are. 

 

(Plodding footsteps. Splashing water. Arthur sighs.)

 

ARTHUR (quietly): It’s quite… peaceful. Who am I talking to? (He giggles.) It’s… it’s been… quite a long time, I guess, I’m… I guess I’m talking… to you. Me. U-Us. No. Arthur… Jesus. I-It’s been so long since I’ve been alone, it feels… weird, I-I… it feels uncomfortable, I… (He laughs and exhales. Quoting.) ‘The battle spirit shouting in my blood, out of the reddest hell of the fight.’ 

 

(He grunts.) We’ve been through it, old boy. Reborn, Jesus… Didn’t take us three days, though. (He cracks up in laughter.) Or has it, I – fuck! Oh. Why don’t… they fuck with… what is that calm, cool demeanor? (Invigorating himself.) You know it. Yeah, I have my pain, I have my mistakes, but… fuck all that. This is it, boy. This is the last act. 

 

(‘Faroe’s Song’ begins.) This is the part where we pull it off. Whatever this fucking mess ends up being… let’s go down swinging. No more bending backward. No more of this… (Quieter.) No more of this… mutilation. They don’t fuck with me because I am the reddest hell, I am the archmurderer in flight. I am the master of my fate. I am the captain of my soul. Time to make that clear.

 

(An otherworldly whoosh.)

 

LILLITH (furious): How dare you? You think silencing me will make a difference? What did it say? What did it tell you? Answer me!

 

ARTHUR: Listen to me, Lillith. I am not your enemy. I am not your pawn. You want to sit in time out for the rest of this trip, fine by me. 

 

LILLITH (laughing): You think that you – 

 

(Otherworldly whoosh. Lillith goes silent.)

 

ARTHUR: Let’s give you a moment to think. (He sighs. A pause.) Okay. 

 

(Otherworldly whoosh.)

 

LILLITH: You think you’re clever.

 

ARTHUR: Shut up! I said listen to me. And you’re gonna fucking listen. I am not your enemy. (‘Faroe’s Song’ begins.) We don’t have to be friends, in fact, I don’t want to be friends. This isn’t an agreement, this is an understanding. You and I can succeed together, or we can fail together, but your cooperation is no longer a necessity for me to try my best at stopping Kayne. Your use of my eyes doesn’t limit me as much as you think it does. 

 

You have no idea how long I’ve managed without sight and furthermore, the more I distrust you, the more we argue and delay, the greater chance Kayne has to ending all of this. I made a mistak… i-n many ways, you’re right. My daughter died, you saw that weakness, and you poked it. You saw it ignite my compassion and my sympathy and… and that allowed you to spot a weakness. But that does not make me weak. So. 

 

(Angry.) Despite the fact that I want nothing more than to take a fucking bite out of your hand just to say ‘fuck you!’... (Calmer.) I will ask you… one last time. Not as a daughter of my enemy, not as the captor of my eyes, nor as the monster in my head. I will ask you as someone who wants to stop Kayne from killing Azathoth. 

 

Work with me. Our hearts… may never be aligned in the same way. You may never see humanity the way I do or feel compassion the way that I do. But I know that you see the value in working together, I know that you are smart enough to understand. 

 

LILLITH: I’ve seen you, as well. I’ll admit, I was surprised at how much I could affect you. This little… suppression technique, though? I didn’t see that coming. 

 

ARTHUR: Yeah, well. Me neither. 

 

LILLITH: You’re right. I do see value in us working together, but as I said, I have zero qualms about taking over your body. But equally… it seems now… that’s a lot of work. So working together is a better decision. 

 

ARTHUR: Agreed.

 

LILLITH: And to put one final point to rest – no. Our hearts will never be aligned, but I am not my father. I may not see the value in humanity… but that is not the same… as wanting all of existence to disappear. I do have compassion. You know it. You said it aptly. My anger towards you for Faroe, for Alia… yes. (Passionate.) There’s a fire that I have no intention or desire to quench. But I will admit… insufficient as it may be… you do seem to hold some remorse. 

 

ARTHUR: You’ve seen my mind. You know my remorse is not… insufficient. 

 

LILLITH: True. I suppose that’s me projecting. Alright then. Enough mending fences. What did the Cana tell you?

 

ARTHUR: Nothing you need to hear.

 

LILLITH (growling): I agreed to tell you what you need to know!

 

ARTHUR: And I will do the same. You don’t need to know what he said.

 

LILLITH: Fine. I want a body, though.

 

ARTHUR: What?

 

LILLITH: When we get to the plateau of Leng, I need my own body.

 

ARTHUR: You won’t have one, you can’t, you’ve died –

 

LILLITH: I can. I know I can. I can feel the tips of your fingers here. I can leave… I’m sure of it. 

 

ARTHUR: We’ll see.

 

LILLITH (growling): I’m not asking.

 

ARTHUR: And I’m not ready to sacrifice someone to you.

 

LILLITH: Enough. We’ll discuss later, then. Agreed?

 

ARTHUR: Agreed.

 

LILLITH: Then let us leave. The desert is large and –

 

ARTHUR: The Trader.

 

LILLITH: The Trader. 

 

ARTHUR: Non-negotiable.

 

LILLITH (darkly): I swear –

 

ARTHUR: Don’t make me put you in time out again –

 

LILLITH (an outburst): Do not do that again! 

 

ARTHUR: Don’t like it?

 

LILLITH: I do not.

 

ARTHUR: Does it… hurt, or – ?

 

LILLITH: No. I’m sure others may find it… peaceful.

 

ARTHUR: Hm. And you? (Footsteps.)

 

LILLITH: The Trader. Where is he? 

 

ARTHUR (sighing): I don’t know. Honestly, most of the time, he just appears. (Footsteps stop. Arthur exhales.)

 

LILLITH: Why did you turn around?

 

ARTHUR: I don’t know. I had hoped for some reason that –

 

TRADER (suddenly): Why are you following me? (Lillith reacts in surprise.)

 

ARTHUR (eager): Shut up. I want to trade. (The Trader grunts.) That’s what you do, right? Let’s do this.

 

TRADER: Very well. (Shuffling and occasional grunts.)

 

LILLITH: The Trader is bringing a large bag off his back, and… swinging it down to the ground. It looks like a rolling mat of sorts. (Sounds of items jangling.) He’s rolling it out. There’s a bizarre assortment of – the lighter!

 

ARTHUR (taken aback): The lighter? My lighter!? (‘Faroe’s Song’ begins.)

 

LILLITH: Yes! You didn’t have it? Why didn’t you have it?

 

ARTHUR: Where the fuck did you think I had it?

 

LILLITH: I didn’t even realize…

 

ARTHUR: Me neither. The Manager must’ve…

 

LILLITH: We need that.

 

ARTHUR: Yes, we need that. My lighter. The lighter. Please. Wait, why do you want it?

 

LILLITH: It’s… It is important for all of this. And it’s something from the Manager, something only Nyarlathotep can give. Something Kayne cannot see. My whole plan hinges on it.

 

ARTHUR: Fine, we’ll talk after. Look, the lighter, Trader. How much do you want?

 

LILLITH: The Trader… smiles, I think. I can’t tell. What do you –

 

TRADER: You have made the first mistake of trading, friend. (Arthur sighs. Flatly.) Hah. Hah. Hah.

 

ARTHUR: Okay.

 

TRADER: Hah. Hah. Hah.

 

ARTHUR: Okay, right. Well, look. Trader. I don’t think you really get what’s going on, okay? Everything is gone if we don’t get that lighter. I-I’m not just –

 

TRADER: I will take… the lot.

 

LILLITH (annoyed): The lot? Who talks like that?

 

ARTHUR: The lot of what? We don’t have anything. I have this knife and this necklace.

 

TRADER: Both of them.

 

ARTHUR: You want both of them.

 

TRADER: Yes.

 

ARTHUR: Fine, whatever. For what, the lighter and something else?

 

TRADER: Just the lighter.

 

ARTHUR: No, look. Two items, two things, that’s fair. 

 

TRADER: You did not trade fair last time. You took all for the Tofflebol.

 

ARTHUR (raging): You took all my stuff, you fucking thief!

 

LILLITH (this isn’t working): Arthur, it…

 

ARTHUR: Did that Tofflebol not serve you well, d-d-did you not trade it for more… (The Trader grunts.) Listen. Listen. I’ve had a real bad fucking day. I have the mother of all headaches. Literally. I get that I fucked with you last time, but I am really in a much worse mood, now, Trader. Don’t… fuck with me. Two items. Two trades. 

 

LILLITH: Does force usually work with trading?

 

TRADER: No deal. (He grumbles. Leaves shuffling.)

 

LILLITH: He’s leaving. 

 

ARTHUR: Fuck. Fine. J-Just –

 

LILLITH: Hold on, hold on. Do you not realize what this necklace is? 

 

TRADER: Let me see.

 

LILLITH: Yes, here. Let me show him. You can hear me, right?

 

TRADER: Of course.

 

LILLITH: Give it here, Arthur.

 

ARTHUR: Why?

 

LILLITH (forceful): Give it here.

 

ARTHUR: Fine. (Chain jangling.)

 

LILLITH: Here. Look, Trader. Look at what it can do. (An otherworldly shimmering noise.)

 

TRADER: Your hand… it changes. 

 

LILLITH: Yes. This is a necklace that allows its wearer to change their appearance. 

 

(Arthur chuckles in surprise.)

 

ARTHUR: Yeah. Worth a lot more than you even realized. 

 

LILLITH: One magic necklace that changes its wearer… and one knife. For the lighter… and one other item. 

 

ARTHUR: What do you say? 

 

TRADER: Deal.

 

ARTHUR: Excellent, excellent.

 

LILLITH (pleased): Wonderful. (Chain jingling. Quieter.) Get the lighter. Grab it, Arthur. Your hand.

 

ARTHUR: Oh, I missed you. (He flicks the lighter.)

 

LILLITH: Well. What do you want?

 

ARTHUR: Well, what is there?

 

LILLITH: Looks like there is a glass jar of thick violet liquid, an oil lamp, a map, a stone disc of some sort… and an egg. 

 

ARTHUR: You don’t recognize anything, do y –

 

LILLITH: No.

 

ARTHUR: Alright. We’ll… take the oil lamp.

 

TRADER: It is yours. Take it. (Rummaging.)

 

LILLITH: Well, grab it. (A thump.)

 

ARTHUR: What… What does it do?

 

(Footsteps.)

 

TRADER (growing fainter): Hah. Hah. Hah. Hah. Hah. Hah.

 

ARTHUR: Trader. Wait!

 

LILLITH: He’s not going to tell you, Arthur. 

 

ARTHUR: What does it do?

 

TRADER: Good luck! (Footsteps and Trader grumbling.)

 

ARTHUR (sighing): What does it do?

 

LILLITH: I don’t know. You picked it.

 

ARTHUR: God damn it.

 

LILLITH: Happy now?

 

ARTHUR: We have the lighter, so I’d say yes. 

 

LILLITH: Yes. You’re right. That was fortuitous. How did the Trader end up with that?

 

ARTHUR: I don’t know. He had my things last time, I lost them as well, so… or maybe the Manager –

 

LILLITH: I don’t know this realm well enough to say, but I know where to look if we lose it again.

 

ARTHUR: Alright, well. I guess we need to… cross the desert, so.

 

LILLITH: Okay, this way.

 

ARTHUR: I know. Away from the water. (Footsteps. He sighs. Occasional metal squeaking.)  Nice trick, by the way. (Quick melody starts.)

 

LILLITH: What?

 

ARTHUR: Nice trick. A clever trick. Making it seem like the necklace changed our hand, when you did –

 

LILLITH: Our hand.

 

ARTHUR (sighing): Force of habit. Mine. Firmly mine, thank you.

 

LILLITH: Hm. 

 

ARTHUR: But, you know. Good job. Good, quick thinking.

 

LILLITH: It really doesn’t take much to impress you, does it? (Arthur chuckles in disbelief.)

 

ARTHUR: Jesus. Fine, whatever.

 

LILLITH: I told you I could change us. You knew about my abilities.

 

ARTHUR: Yes, I know. (Lillith laughs.)

 

LILLITH: Oh. I’m not trying to be mean, kid. It’s just funny what you find… clever.

 

ARTHUR: I’m just trying to –

 

LILLITH: No no no, I get it, look. (Simpering.) Honestly, you calling me clever is like… it’s like a dog complimenting your intellect.

 

ARTHUR (offended): Jesus!

 

LILLITH: You know, it’s… funny. I’m not saying it in a demeaning way.

 

ARTHUR: Sorry. How am I supposed to take that?

 

LILLITH: Take it like it’s meant: an apt comparison.

 

ARTHUR: You think I’m no smarter than a dog?

 

LILLITH: To me? No. (Arthur snorts.) Do you have any idea how old I am? How long I’ve existed? (With growing power.) Do you have any way to even comprehend the sights I’ve seen? I’ve watched empires fall… I’ve stood before pharaohs and kings, presidents and generals… I’ve watched Paris burn, volcanoes erupt! Philosophers burned at the stake. I’ve witnessed the invention of gunpowder, did you know that? And the Black Death, and – and you all kill yourself in your little wars, over and over and over again! 

 

You’re a smart kid, Arthur. Tell me. Imagining all I’ve seen, all I’ve experienced… do you even think you’re in the top… two hundred smartest humans I’ve ever met? A-And let me be clear. That’s smartest… humans. 

 

ARTHUR: Point taken.  (‘Faroe’s Song’ begins.)

 

LILLITH: As much as you’d like to feel like you stand out amongst the rest… you are not special. 

 

ARTHUR: I’m in agreement. (Footsteps. He sighs.) So you’ve really… witnessed all that? That’s quite… fascinating, actually. I… you know, I-I’ve always kind of… wanted to see the world, like that. Sometimes, I mean. To get to go back to… the dawn of time, to… to man’s first evolution. To witness the discovery of a new world… to hear the first Gregorian chants, to see the building of the pyramids! I… one day, m-maybe. I hope to. Well... 

 

LILLITH: Go there?

 

ARTHUR (annoyed): I realize this is all beneath you. That the minutia of a human’s desires are far, far beneath you… but yes. Go there.

 

LILLITH: Correct. I don’t really care if a dog wants to go for a walk.

 

ARTHUR: For someone so intelligent, the fact that you can’t comprehend the joy in humanity is quite amusing. You know, and don’t call me a dog again.

 

LILLITH: You think I can’t comprehend it?

 

ARTHUR: I think there’s power in being able to empathize with others, yes.

 

LILLITH: Empathize with others? I don’t need to care about whether a dog is hungry to feed it – (An otherworldly whoosh. Arthur huffs.)

 

ARTHUR: Jesus. You asked for that. (Footsteps. A pause.) Now, this I can get used to. (He chuckles and huffs. An otherworldly whoosh.) 

 

LILLITH (distorting): I said, don’t do that again!

 

ARTHUR: I’ll do it again, right now!

 

LILLITH: How dare you!

 

ARTHUR:  How dare I? The first thing you tried to do when we arrived here was take over my body! To take all that I am and shove it aside! Why? Because you could. Well, I can do this now! So why shouldn’t I? (A short pause.) Hm? Answer me!

 

LILLITH: I… you… because I… 

 

ARTHUR: B-Because you… what? (Lillith huffs.) You know, for all your experience, for all your intellect, you lose an ounce of your power and you are scrambling around like the rest of us. A-And yet,  you still think you’re better than me! You compare me to a dog! But you’re the one I can put out whenever I feel like. So convince me not to. (A short pause.) You have no argument. 

 

You’ve watched Paris burn, you’ve walked with pharaohs, but when your power is gone… what does all that mean? That you’re wise? I’m sorry, I don’t see it. That you’re smart? Sure. On paper. But a truly smart person… would have recognized the power imbalance and played it much, much closer to the chest than you. So I’m left wondering… what you are now. You may always have disdain. But all that intellect was gained from a position you no longer hold. 

 

What good is it, when you can’t connect with the person who can control where you walk? What good is it, to win an argument that makes me want to put you in the dark? What good is your lived experiences when you cannot transfer them to now? When you really need them? It means nothing. If you can spend an eternity doing all the things you’ve claimed to have done and still act this stupid, this manipulative, this ignorant, this angry… toward what I represent… then what a waste of time. Well? 

 

(A long pause.)

 

LILLITH: I became aware of what Kayne had planned to do many years ago. (A mysterious melody begins.) The Manager… or as he was known then, simply another version of Nyarlathotep, sought me out. He too had hunted for the Blackstone, for the same purpose. Only, in his universe… it was he and his daughter that aimed to wake and kill Azathoth. At first, I was confused. Unsure of why this… Manager… who had seemingly wanted to end all existence had chosen to tell me all of this, let alone seek me out. He was a… different Nyarlathotep than my father. The same insane laugh and wild eyes… the same sense of destruction and chaos, only… he had something else in his eyes. Something I didn’t quite understand, at first. 

 

I later came to learn what it was: love. A love for his daughter, that was real… and genuine. She died. When Kayne showed up in their universe, aiming to eliminate one more Nyarlathotep, she saved her father, the Manager, by sacrificing herself. The Manager had to watch as Kayne murdered her… brutally. A feeling I can attest to being… unpleasant. (Lillith grunts.) I have never had the kind of relationship with my father the way the Manager did with his… Lillith. I saw pain in his eyes that felt… foreign. That felt… unusual, and… alien, and yes, I recognize the irony in that sentiment. 

 

So I put a plan into motion. With his help. To stop Kayne. Which involved… you. 

 

ARTHUR: Me?

 

LILLITH: Unfortunately, Kayne must have seen the Lillith he killed standing against him as a bad omen, and so, despite him being unaware of our machinations, he banished me. Sending me into a realm… of nightmares. 

 

ARTHUR: Where you became… Scratch.

 

LILLITH: Not entirely. Not yet. Though I was banished, I was not without my hooks in your reality. Under the guise of Scratch, a moniker I had sometimes donned for various endeavors, and in hopes of obfuscating my plans from Kayne… I reached out, in attempt to contact anyone who could be of use. (Patronizing.) Those greedy, power-hungry rats who scoured the worlds beyond for their selfish little means. Until one poked hard enough to let me whisper back. 

 

ARTHUR (realizing): Edward William Allan.

 

LILLITH: Correct. I simply needed to lead him to the farm, a home of some of my followers, a place where I’d planted a seed of me to be born again. Only…

 

ARTHUR: Only…?

 

LILLITH: Kayne. At some point, he must have picked up on my plan. I don’t know how. He got his hooks into Edward William Allan, and instead of opening the portal to the nightmare realm at the farm, he opened it at his home, in New York. In what would later become Marie’s house.

 

ARTHUR: The secret room.

 

LILLITH: Kayne was there the minute I arrived. And before I could escape, he fractured the gateway… and myself… dooming me to stay as Scratch for all those years. 

 

ARTHUR: Until?

 

LILLITH (softer): Until there was you. (Normally.) So that… is why I do not want to be put in a space where I can no longer be heard… or feel. I have spent too much of my life already trapped, hidden away. Because of my father. And that… is also why… I wish to kill him. (Arthur sighs.)

 

ARTHUR: Fair enough. (Lillith huffs.) This plan that involves me…

 

LILLITH: Believe me when I tell you that I have no idea how Kayne learned of my plans to leave the nightmare realm. And trust me when I say… the less you know… the better.

 

ARTHUR: I can’t –

 

LILLITH: You can’t, no. Not yet. 

 

ARTHUR: Fine. What did you mean, a seed to be born again?

 

LILLITH: I have many followers. Some I ask to keep things, in case… 

 

ARTHUR: In case you get destroyed.

 

LILLITH: In a way.

 

ARTHUR: Are there any left?

 

LILLITH: Would I be here if there were? Kayne must’ve destroyed them all once I reappeared back in the woods, before he used the Hand of Malevolence. 

 

ARTHUR: Why did you kill my parents? (Lillith huffs.)

 

LILLITH (quickly): I killed your parents because they were cultists, and they didn’t follow my rules. 

 

ARTHUR: I don’t believe you… but I will trust you, Lillith. I don’t know what to make of all of this. I don’t know where this will end, but… I do trust that you and I are fighting for the same thing. 

 

LILLITH: Thank you. (Growing sounds of wind.) For what it’s worth, you may not be the smartest human I’ve ever met… but I do think you are amongst the most… impressive. In a certain way. And I’ll… stop trying to take over this body. Until I get my own.

 

ARTHUR (sighing): Fine. 

 

LILLITH: Oh. We’re here. 

 

ARTHUR: Where? T-The desert? 

 

LILLITH: There’s something approaching. A cloud of dust. 

 

ARTHUR: A cloud? From where?

 

LILLITH: Across the desert.

 

ARTHUR: Should we… hide, or –

 

LILLITH: Why?

 

ARTHUR: I don’t know. W-What… what if it’s dangerous?

 

LILLITH: Oh, I doubt it. It approaches. They approach. 

 

ARTHUR: They? (The wind grows louder.)

 

LILLITH: Seven figures ride through the sands of the desert. Dust clouds bloom upwards as they draw nearer. They are… the heralds of the King. His dancers approach, moving with incredible speed. Their scarves trailing in the winds, their faceless masks hiding their intention.

 

ARTHUR (urgently): Is this bad? Is this bad?

 

LILLITH: I don’t know. But they’re about to arrive.

 

ARTHUR: What do we… what do we do?

 

LILLITH: We do nothing.

 

ARTHUR: One of them cut me last time.

 

LILLITH: Well, then stay away. (The sounds of fabric in the wind.) They surround us. The yellow of the torn and tattered cloth that hangs off them like bandages is putrid and bile-like. The masks, like porcelain, have deep black cracks, as if they were once broken. I think I see bits of red flesh beneath. They stand motionless, except for the one in the middle. (Repeated cracking noises.) He approaches. It moves awkwardly, snapping and shuddering as if breaking fresh bonds to do so. The cracks in its masks are red, the blood dripping down like tears. (The cracking grows closer.)

 

ARTHUR (scared): What do you want? 

 

UNKNOWN HERALD (growling): We are here to take you.

 

ARTHUR: Take us where?

 

UNKNOWN HERALD: To Carcosa.

 

ARTHUR: Why?

 

UNKNOWN HERALD: He wishes to see you.

 

ARTHUR: Who?

 

UNKNOWN HERALD: The King in Yellow.

 

(A click, followed by static.)

 

(END Part 57.)