[CLICK]
[WRITHING WORM SOUNDS]
SASHA: What are you doing?!
ARCHIVIST: Almost…
SASHA: Leave it, it’s not -
ARCHIVIST: I got it!
[PULLS SOMETHING FROM THE MORASS]
MARTIN: Guys? Is everyth - OH CHRIST!
ARCHIVIST: Shut up and get the extinguishers!
MARTIN: What?
ARCHIVIST: The CO2! Get the goddamn CO2!
MARTIN: Right, right, right, right, right, right, right, right, yep.
ARCHIVIST: NOW!
[WRITHING CONTINUES AS EXTINGUISHER SPRAYS]
MARTIN: There’s too many…
SASHA: Just keep spraying!
ARCHIVIST: We need to go!
SASHA: Where?
ARCHIVIST: Uh… Uh…
SASHA: Damn!
ARCHIVIST: I just… uh… let, let me think!
SASHA: Do you see Prentiss? If we could get her -
MARTIN: I, I, I don’t see her! I don’t see her! I don’t see her! I don’t see her!
ARCHIVIST: Uhhh…
SASHA: John?
SASHA: John!?
MARTIN: This way!
MARTIN: Come on! Come this way! This way, this way!
[RUNNING, PURSUED BY WORMS]
ARCHIVIST: Erm…
ARCHIVIST: LOOK OUT!
[CRASH]
[CLICK]
[CLICK]
[SOUND CUTS IN MIDWAY THROUGH THE ARCHIVIST SCREAMING]
MARTIN: And… there we go. Recording again.
MARTIN: Did you get it?
[PAINED CRY FROM ARCHIVIST AS SASHA EXTRACTS WORM WITH A SQUELCH]
SASHA: There. And I just want to point out that I didn’t make this much of a fuss.
ARCHIVIST: [Breathing heavily, aggrieved tone] I think your removal was substantially cleaner.
SASHA: I’m still not sure why you have this. Drinking in the archives?
MARTIN: What? No, no, it’s for worms.
ARCHIVIST: What?
MARTIN: For pulling the worms out of people. Like now.
SASHA: You, er… what?
MARTIN: I used to carry around a knife, but I started thinking that, well, cutting into someone laterally wasn’t really the most efficient way to get them out, and besides which, they seem to be quite slow burrowing in a straight line so, given their size, th-the corkscrew just seemed to be the better option.
MARTIN: …
MARTIN: Look, you guys got to go home every day, okay. I didn’t! I’ve been thinking for a long time about what to do when… well, y’know, this happens.
ARCHIVIST: [Softly] Well… thank you.
SASHA: That’s why we’re here?
MARTIN: Yeah. The room’s sealed, I checked it myself when I moved in.
ARCHIVIST: Climate controlled, as well. Strong door. Soundproof. [Sigh] These old files are far better protected than we ever were. Alright, I’ll grant you it’s a good place to lay low, but -
SASHA: They could still come in through the air con.
ARCHIVIST: Not easily. And… not en masse. It is actually safe.
MARTIN: Ha!
ARCHIVIST: Except, of course, that we’re trapped.
MARTIN: Ah… yeah.
MARTIN: Sorry.
MARTIN: …
SASHA: Why record it?
ARCHIVIST: What?
SASHA: Before, in the office. It, it was stupid going for the tape recorder like that, and then when you dropped it out there -
ARCHIVIST: I said I was sorry. If I’d known Martin had another one stashed in here, I never would have…
SASHA: No, it’s, it’s fine, just… I just don’t understand. I thought you hated the damn thing. You’re always going on about it.
ARCHIVIST: I do! I did. I just… I don’t want to become a mystery. I refuse to become another goddamn mystery.
SASHA: What?
ARCHIVIST: Look, even if you ignore the walking soil-sack out there, and the fact that we are probably minutes from death, there is still so much more happening here.
MARTIN: I’m not sure we can really ignore the -
ARCHIVIST: Every real statement just leads… deeper into something I don’t even know the shape of yet. And to top it all, I still don’t know what happened to Gertrude. Officially she’s still missing, but Elias is no help and the police were pretty clear that the wait to call her dead is just a formality. If I die, wormfood or… something else, whatever, I’m going to make damn sure the same doesn’t happen to me. Whoever takes over from me is going to know exactly what happened.
SASHA: You don’t think that would… put them off?
ARCHIVIST: [Bitter laugh] I hope so. Only an idiot would stay in this job.
MARTIN: [Chuckles] Wouldn’t that make you an idiot?
ARCHIVIST: Yes, Martin, that was my point.
ARCHIVIST: …
SASHA: Can you see what’s going on out there?
MARTIN: Ish. When did we last clean these doors?
ARCHIVIST: What can you see?
MARTIN: Worms seem to have backed off a bit. There’s a few lurking in the corners. Ooh, ooh hey, there’s the other tape recorder!
SASHA: Any sign of Prentiss?
MARTIN: No. No, it looks like they’re… waiting, I think.
ARCHIVIST: For what?
MARTIN: I don’t know. Tim, maybe?
SASHA: Oh god!
MARTIN: I think he was out at lunch.
SASHA: Quick, someone call him. Tell him not to come back inside.
ARCHIVIST: There’s no signal in here. We just have to hope he heard the noise.
ARCHIVIST: …
SASHA: John, what did you mean by “real statements”?
ARCHIVIST: You know what I mean. The ones that have weird wrinkles, or that just seem to have something solid to them. They all have one thing in common.
SASHA: They don’t record digitally.
ARCHIVIST: And we have to use the tape recorder. At this stage, if it records to my laptop I almost don’t bother. I don’t -
MARTIN: There! There, there, there! I see him!
ARCHIVIST: What?
MARTIN: Tim. Tim’s outside.
SASHA: Oh god, he doesn’t know. He doesn’t see them.
[SASHA AND MARTIN BOTH START CALLING OUT TO TIM]
SASHA: TIM, LOOK OUT!
ARCHIVIST: It’s soundproofed. He can’t hear you!
SASHA: What is he doing? No, Tim, just run! Leave it alone!
MARTIN: Oh no, no, no, no…
SASHA: Turn around. Just turn around.
MARTIN: Oh god. There she is, there she is.
ARCHIVIST: [Muttering] There’s nothing we can do.
SASHA: Ah, screw this.
ARCHIVIST: What, Sasha, NO!
[DOOR OPENS]
SASHA: Tim, look out!
ARCHIVIST: Watch out for the tape -
[CLICK]
[CLICK]
TIM: …still working? Ah, okay. Test, test. What are you doing on the floor? Huh. [Imitates Archivist voice] Statement of Joe Spooky, regarding sinister happenings in the downtown old -
[DOOR OPENS]
SASHA: Tim, look out!
[WORM SOUND INTENSIFIES]
TIM: Sasha?
SASHA: Behind you! Run!
TIM: Oh…
PRENTISS: [Slowly intoning over worm sound] Do you hear their song?
SASHA: TIM!
[IMPACT, WORMS AND SCUFFLING]
[SASHA BREATHING HEAVILY AS SHE STUMBLES THROUGH DOORS]
SASHA: Damn it!
[CLICK]
[CLICK]
ARCHIVIST: Right. There we go. Martin, what do you see?
MARTIN: Hm? What?
ARCHIVIST: I can’t really stand up yet. I need you to describe what’s going on. For the record.
MARTIN: Ah, yeah. Sure. So, um, Sasha tackled Tim and there was kind of a struggle, but she made it out of the Archives. That, that was about two minutes ago and she’s gone to get help. P-Probably. I mean, she, she couldn’t… she wouldn’t just run so…
ARCHIVIST: Did it look like any of the worms… got her before she left?
MARTIN: No. I don’t think so. Tim neither, I think. It was hard to tell after she tackled him. There was just a lot of movement and, and shouting and, and wriggling…
ARCHIVIST: Stay with it, Martin. Tim. What happened to Tim?
MARTIN: They got split up and he ran into the office. You said that’s where you made the hole. When you were recording. And they all came through, so… he’s dead. He’s dead in there and he’s covered in worms and that’s it.
ARCHIVIST: We don’t know that.
MARTIN: …Maybe.
MARTIN: Maybe, maybe he found the spare CO2.
ARCHIVIST: Spare? What? Where? I never saw any.
MARTIN: Oh, I, er… I, I hid them in old casefile boxes.
ARCHIVIST: What, why?
MARTIN: Well, so the worms didn’t know they were there!
MARTIN: Look, I know it’s stupid.
ARCHIVIST: Yes. Yes it is. They’re just… they’re just unclassified parasites. They don’t have consciousness, they can’t plan, they’re just an unthinking infection.
MARTIN: Seriously?!
ARCHIVIST: What?
MARTIN: Why do you do that?
ARCHIVIST: Do what?
MARTIN: Push the sceptic thing so hard!? I mean, it made sense at first, but now? After everything we’ve seen, after everything you’ve read! I hear you recording statements and y-you just dismiss them. Your tear them to pieces like they’re wasting your time, but half of the “rational” explanations you give are actually more far-fetched than just accepting it was a, a ghost or something. I mean for god’s sake John, we’re literally hiding from some kind of worm… queen… thing, how, how could you possibly still not believe!?
ARCHIVIST: Of course, I believe. Of course I do. Have you ever taken a look at the stuff we have in Artefact storage? That’s enough to convince anyone. But, but even before that… Why do you think I started working here? It’s not exactly glamorous. I have… I’ve always believed in the supernatural. Within reason. I mean. I still think most of the statements down here aren’t real. Of the hundreds I’ve recorded, we’ve had maybe… thirty, forty that are… that go on tape. Now, those, I believe, at least for the most part.
MARTIN: Then why do you -
ARCHIVIST: Because I’m scared, Martin!. Because when I record these statements it feels… it feels like I’m being watched. I… I lose myself a bit. And then when I come back, it’s like… like if I admit there may be any truth to it, whatever’s watching will… know somehow. The scepticism, feigning ignorance. It just felt safer.
MARTIN: Well… It wasn’t.
ARCHIVIST: No. No, it wasn’t.
ARCHIVIST: Still, it’s not my fault we’re going to be eaten by worms. Speaking of, can you see anything?
MARTIN: Not much. They’re just… there.
ARCHIVIST: How many?
MARTIN: Too many. And more keep coming up through the floor. I didn’t think they could get through.
ARCHIVIST: Prentiss?
MARTIN: No, I can’t s… Oh, there she is.
ARCHIVIST: What’s she doing?
MARTIN: I don’t know. She’s messing with the boxes. She’s holding one up and… ahh!
ARCHIVIST: What?
MARTIN: She’s… She’s destroying them. Sort of.
ARCHIVIST: Sort of?
MARTIN: Well, I don’t really know what that stuff coming out of her mouth is, but I think we should probably burn them.
ARCHIVIST: Right.
ARCHIVIST: Right.
ARCHIVIST: …
ARCHIVIST: Why are you here Martin?
MARTIN: Well, well, Prentiss is out there and you can’t run so -
ARCHIVIST: I mean at the Archive in general. Why haven’t you quit?
MARTIN: Are you giving me my review now?
ARCHIVIST: No… We’re clearly doing a whole heart-to-heart thing and, truth be told, the question’s been bothering me. You’ve been living in the Archives for four months, constant threat of… this. Sleeping with a fire extinguisher and a corkscrew. Even you must be aware that that’s not normal for an archiving job? Why are you still here?
MARTIN: [Considering] Don’t really know. I just am. It didn’t feel right to just leave. I’ve typed up a few resignation letters, but I just couldn’t bring myself to hand them in.
MARTIN: I’m trapped here. It’s like I can’t… move on and the more I struggle, the more I’m stuck.
ARCHIVIST: Martin…You’re not, uh… You didn’t die here, did you?
MARTIN: What? What? N-No… what?!
ARCHIVIST: No, I just… No, just the way you phrased that…
MARTIN: Made you think I was a ghost?
ARCHIVIST: No… it’s -
MARTIN: No, no… it’s just that whatever web these statements have caught you in, well, I’m there too. We all are, I think. [Sigh]
MARTIN: …
MARTIN: A ghost? Really?
ARCHIVIST: [Tiredly] Shut up, Martin.
[CLICK]
[CLICK]
[FIRE ALARM IS SOUNDING]
ELIAS: Right, tell me again, please.
SASHA: You’re kidding.
ELIAS: You did bring a tape recorder. I just thought John would appreciate as many supplementary recordings as possible. For the record.
SASHA: Well, for the record, if we don’t do something now, it won’t matter either way.
ELIAS: So… these are the worms he and Martin have been going on about?
SASHA: The ones terrorising us for months? Yeah!
ELIAS: To be honest I always thought they were just… overreacting. Other staff have seen them around, but no-one’s reported any aggressive behaviour or anything like that. You know how those two are… John puts on a good show, but sometimes I swear he’s worse than Martin.
SASHA: Look, Elias. I don’t know what you think is going on, but I have just seen thousands of… fleshworms pouring out of the wall! God knows how long they’ve been hiding! Tim might be dead, and the others…
ELIAS: Of course. The fire alarm was a good move, but it does mean most staff have evacuated, so we’ll deal have to with them ourselves.
SASHA: There are thousands of them, Elias.
ELIAS: Not quite what I meant. On John’s insistence I recently changed the Archive’s fire suppression system to use carbon dioxide. Should have done it years ago, really -
SASHA: So why hasn’t it gone off?
ELIAS: Because there isn’t an actual fire.
SASHA: Right, right. Can we set it off manually? I think John’s got a lighter somewhere.
ELIAS: He’s not smoking again, is he? Anyway, it shouldn’t be necessary. There is a manual release, a few floors down.
SASHA: Wait. Wait. Will it hurt Martin or John?
ELIAS: Almost certainly. Er, I’m not a doctor, but I know dumping a lot of CO2 on people isn’t generally considered a good idea. I really don’t want to have to find another Archivist so quickly after Gertrude, but from what you say… it might be a mercy. You know the situation best, so…?
SASHA: Let’s go.
[CLICK]
[CLICK]
[FIRE ALARM CAN BE HEARD… AS CAN SOUND OF BANGING ON WALL]
MARTIN: I thought that wall was meant to be solid?!
ARCHIVIST: So did I. We don’t have any sort of weapon, do we?
MARTIN: I mean… I mean, I suppose we could use -
ARCHIVIST: Don’t say the corkscrew!
MARTIN: Okay.
ARCHIVIST: How many of them are outside of the door?
MARTIN: I don’t know. I can’t see because the window is covered in worms.
ARCHIVIST: Right. Right. Damn. Well, Martin I guess this is -
[SOUND OF PLASTERBOARD AND TILE BREAKING]
TIM: Hi guys!
MARTIN: Tim!
ARCHIVIST: Tim?! What the hell? I thought… how did you…?
MARTIN: You made it!
TIM: Funny story really. I ran into the office, worms everywhere, horrible death and everything, tripped and fell in some boxes and there were like 20 cans of gas in there.
MARTIN: Are, are you alright? You seem a bit…
TIM: Fine! Fine! Gas… bit light-headed. Not a lot of ventilation in the tunnels. Come on!
ARCHIVIST: In-Into the tunnels?
TIM: Yeah! Actually, not that many worms in there anymore. I think they’ve mostly gone into the Archive. Although the ones down here are faster for some reason. And quieter.
ARCHIVIST: You’re not bitten, are you?
TIM: No, I don’t think so! Have a look!
ARCHIVIST: Yes, alright Tim, you look fine. Put them back on, please.
MARTIN: Can can you walk, John?
ARCHIVIST: No, I can limp.
TIM: Then let’s go!
ARCHIVIST: Martin, could you pass me the tape recorder?
MARTIN: Sure. I think it’s running out, though.
ARCHIVIST: Fine. I suppose I can turn it back on when we’re being eaten alive.
TIM: Why do you have a second tape recorder, Martin?
MARTIN: Oh, um… well, I’ve been using it to record myself. I write poetry and I think the tapes have a sort of… low-fi charm.
ARCHIVIST: …
ARCHIVIST: I see.
[CLICK]
[CLICK]
SASHA: ##### [SPEECH IS ECHOED FROM THE ROOM AS SHE WALKS]
SASHA: [With some despondency in tone] Okay, John. I know you’ll want to know what’s been happening. If you’re still alive after this. The worms are on the upper floor. Not as many as down in the Archive, but enough.
SASHA: I set the fire alarm off, so everyone’s evacuated except me and Elias. I didn’t see any signs of the fire brigade, but I haven’t been near a window in a while. There was a… I guess you’d call it a… a wave of worms. I got cut off from Elias. I hope he made it to the fire system, but who knows. Maybe everyone’s dead already.
SASHA: I’ve had to retreat into Artefact Storage. That should tell you something about how bad it is out there.
SASHA: God, I hate this place.
SASHA: Did I ever tell you I first joined the Institute as a practical researcher? I had to analyse and investigate all the stuff in here. Take notes after sleeping in the rusted chair, write in the memory book, all that sort of thing. I transferred after three months. Would’ve quit, but couldn’t afford to back then.
SASHA: Never understood why they keep this stuff secret. I mean, we’ve, we’ve enough here to send any sceptic packing, but it’s just locked away. I… I asked Elias about it once, but he just muttered something about funding and mission statements. He’s good at changing the subject, isn’t he?
SASHA: Sorry. I’m rambling. No worms, though, so that’s good.
SASHA: Oh, hey. I’ve found… I’ve found that table you were talking about. Don’t really see what all the fuss is about. Just a… basic… optical illusion. Nothing special… just… just a… wait…
SASHA: [Hushed and panicked] John! John, I think there’s someone here. Hello? I see you. Show yourself.
[DISTORTION INTENSIFIES]
[SASHA SCREAMS, TAPE RECORDER DROPS]
[DISTORTION FADES TO A CRACKLE]
NOT!SASHA: [Words warped] Hello?
NOT!SASHA: I see you.
[FOOTSTEPS]
NOT!SASHA: [Clearly] I see you.
[CLICK]
[CLICK]
[WATER DRIPS]
ARCHIVIST: Update. I don’t know how long we’ve been down here. These tunnels are a maze, and we don’t know where we are. We have four of the -
TIM: Martin’s gone.
ARCHIVIST: I’m getting to that. Martin has disappeared. Tim was right about there being fewer worms down here, but they are much faster. More aggressive. None of us have been hit yet but… during one of the more alarming encounters, Martin ran off.
TIM: He thought we were behind him, I think.
ARCHIVIST: He didn’t think at all. Tim was with me, and my leg slowed me down. He must have taken a turn we didn’t see or something. We lost him. But, Tim has managed to find what looks to be an actual trapdoor, so… we won’t need to bludgeon our way through any more drywall. I’m recording this in case -
TIM: In case the trapdoor opens back into the Archives and Prentiss is there to kill us.
ARCHIVIST: In as many words, yes. Tim?
TIM: Alright.
[TRAPDOOR IS PUSHED OPEN TO SOUND OF FIRE ALARM AND LOTS OF WRITHING]
PRENTISS: Archivist.
TIM: Ah.
ARCHIVIST: Shit.