Episode 48: Perchance to Dream

Sorry for disappearing there, folks. Today's news: people's dreams seem to be coming true.


The voice of Elliot Housley is Jonas Swain. The voice of THE FACELESS is Angela Yih, creator of The Residents of Proserpina Park. Stick around to hear a trailer at the end! Currently on their fourth season, with a fifth in production, you can find them on twitter, and be sure check them out wherever you get your podcasts.

Featuring the voices of Alex Nursall, Harlan Guthrie, Shaun Pellington, and Chuck Raymond.

CW: Existentialism/nihilism.

Sound effects this episode courtesy of Freesound.org contributors: ryding, harveyjnz, joviansounds, kmoon, cognito-perceptu, thewoodlandnomad, bmaczero, unfa, theminkman, kinoton, anderlk, bplayers, kostrava, szegvari, stevemannella, sheyvan, glueisobar, klangfabrik, vancer, nickgoa, fenrirfangs, klangfabrik, ravenwolfprods, betostado99, audiodaprati, sholecoltis, stephanpot, q, emulius, and noted451.

Nowhere, On Air is created, voiced and produced by Jesse Syratt. Cover art by Moon Hermit Crab on Instagram.

We'd love to hear from you! Email us at nowhere.onair@gmail.com. Or, find us on the app formerly known as twitter, @NowhereOnAir

Transcript

[DOOR OPENING. FOOTSTEPS, STATIC, CHAIR SCRAPING ON FLOOR, SITTING.] 

JESS: [HEAVY SIGH] Ah, shit. 

[ BEAT. INHALE SHARPLY, LOW:]

Okay, okay. I can do this. 

[GRABBING MIC, THEN, SHOCK, STATIC] 

Ah! Damn– 

[GRABBING PAPER AND READING IT. PAUSE. SNIFF, MUTTERED]

Good on you, Jordan. 

[FOLDING PAPER. COUGHING, THEME MUSIC] 

Hey folks. 

Uh, sorry for disappearing last night. My memory of it is more than a little hazy so I’m not sure where it left off, or… or where I went afterwards, to be honest. But I’m here now. So. 

It's… late. Later than this show is usually headed your way. I’m sorry. The day got away from me. But, I didn’t want to leave you hanging. I- I couldn’t. 

Motthew’s still here too. For anyone wondering. Hanging on for dear life. Hey buddy. 

Tanner must have found the mic outside and set it back up, cause it was just left there… I’m sorry, listeners, I really- I really wish I could tell you what happened last night, whatever uh, weather thing I saw that wasn’t safe to be seen, but uh… I don’t remember it. 

I’m sure that’s disappointing for our more curious listeners out there. And, fair enough. I’d be disappointed. I- I am disappointed. That I don’t remember. What I saw. When the sky opened up above me. 

But if I did– let's just say I have a strong gut feeling you wouldn’t want to know. My eyes hurt today. Let’s leave it there. 

God, it's too bright here. I’m just gonna– turn off the big light. Tanner and Clark must have left it on for me… 

[GETS UP. WALKS. COUGHS. TURNS LIGHT OFF. RETURNS] 

Um. I– 

Like I said, my eyes hurt. Everything hurts. Sleeping on the ground is– not comfortable apparently. 

Apologies are in order for my absence, though– but, in my defense super quick, maybe I have a habit of disappearing but it's hardly my own fault. Though, yes, it is not fair to those who care about me to disappear with no word or sign for an extended period of time… [LOW] I’m sure they’re not gonna be happy when they get up- 

Speaking of, uh– still haven’t heard from River. I’ve heard OF them, though, which was slightly assuring, but… yeah. I- I was going to say I’ll get to that later but there’s no reason I can’t get to it now. It's gonna be a bit of a roundabout journey to get to that point though because it begins with the conversation I had with Weatherman Todd on my admittedly rather dazed trek home. 

[BRUSHING OFF, QUIET]

I’m still covered in dirt. 

[YAWNS, STATIC] 

On the topic of my trek home- I noticed the fog seems even more slightly less bad? Like, I can see maybe just a little farther than I could yesterday. Though the air overall seems a little more hazy. Not sure how that makes sense, but… 

I did pass a couple buildings out there in the dark I don’t recall ever seeing before. Wooden, simple, almost… old timey. And the collapsed, overgrown ruins of a barn that I know didn’t used to look like it had endured the weight of so many years… 

And that glow, that ever present hue on the horizon seems to have shifted further to a deep red colour. Like the sky is bleeding, almost. It hangs heavy and sanguine at the edge of us all. A colour that, on the dogman alert scale, means danger…  

Anyways. I spoke with Todd. To be honest neither of us are sure why he, and many of you, haven’t been arrested yet for meeting with us so openly and so often, as I understand there were ongoing threats made to the community regarding such things, but we’ve discussed it, and Todd agreed to continue to meet until he is arrested for doing so. 

I asked him if he had any weather updates to pass on, and he said “I’m not even sure I would call this weather anymore.” I asked him what he would call it instead, and he simply sighed the sigh of a man who’s been called to confront every truth he thought he knew, and re-evaluate them in the context of an “anything that could happen, may very well happen” structure of existence. So, no weather, but Todd reminded me of- uh- a fact that I didn’t know what to do with at first. 

According to a list Tanner read out loud some time ago on air, and a list which– well, I’m surprised didn't see this when I looked at it yesterday, but… 

Ethan Crawford, apparently, and this information sounded familiar to me as Todd relayed it, has been missing for some time. I’m not sure how we sort of… forgot that. Maybe because there’s so much happening all the time and because all of it feels like it shouldn’t be happening, it’s difficult to keep track of it all… 

But Todd, after our broadcast yesterday evening, said he went over to the Crawford residence to speak to them, specifically with this remembrance of his in mind. He mentioned that he was hoping to talk to Jordan about it first, but– 

[QUIET] 

Oh. Jordan. Right. 

Uh- sorry to interrupt myself here. I- I know I shouldn’t necessarily be surprised you’re gone, because I… but yeah, uh. 

Thank you for the note. Um… 

I’m- I’m sorry I wasn’t here to say goodbye, or to uh, give you some kind of send off, say thank you… well, I guess just not to your face. But, I’ll say it here. 

Goodbye, Jordan. Thank you for everything. I feel like I can say with some authority you have been the best radio station intern in the history of this town, and perhaps even the history of this world. You always went above and beyond, and… you were a good friend. Thank you. Your presence will be missed here, but I know I, and I’m sure the others, are comforted by knowing that you are home. 

[CLEARS THROAT]

And, uh. Of course, this is not the end of your career as a radio show employee if you don’t want it to be. After all this is over, I know there will always, always be a place at the station for you, should you want it.   

But yeah. Thank you, and, goodbye. 

Anyways. Back to– Weatherman Todd. 

He spoke to the Crawfords about this discrepancy in their son’s status as a local missing person, sensitively, I assume given the circumstances, and told me they said that Ethan showed up one night last week, in the middle of the night, on their doorstep, with River. Well, the description they gave was of someone wearing sunglasses, and long, draped clothes that were dark and form-concealing, and this person seemed to linger in the shadow, at the edge of the light, and sometimes it looked like they weren’t necessarily entirely there, and, well, that sounds like River. 

The Crawfords likewise told Todd they were told to keep it, being Ethan’s return to them, quiet. And they did, it seems. It sounds as though Ethan had little to say about where he had been, and it sounds like many people didn’t realize he was back until he was gone… 

I- to lose him again, so soon, I– I don’t know what to say except I’m so sorry. 

I- yeah. [SNIFFS] 

And again, speaking of River- still no sign. Glad to hear they’re still out there somewhere and seemingly, somewhat, doing what it is they tend to do. Which is– I’m not sure. To be honest, I am more unsure as to why they do the things that they do than I am unsure what it is they’re doing–

[YAWNS, STATIC]

Excuse me. Sorry. I’m sleepy, folks, full disclosure. I’m not sure I’ve ever said the words “I slept well” on this show or ever over the last few years. Given our… ever-escalating circumstances and my own recent series of unique experiences, let alone my dreaming habits, I’d honestly be surprised if I was sleeping well. 

I woke up a couple hours ago by the sinkhole. I have a vague memory of wanting to see if it was glowing like Jordan said, but… I don’t know, I woke up on the ground. Covered in dirt. They put a fence up around it while I was out, so I had to climb it when no one was looking. I’m surprised no one saw me. I- I don’t remember falling asleep. 

Sleeping relates to the other thing Todd and I talked about so this is a great transition into something relevant. Although, as the day has gotten away from me, this might be more an instance of me telling you something you already know. But allow me to be redundant. 

At first, Todd admitted that he’s also been having strange dreams “since this all started” and I’m assuming he meant the uh, town shutdown, quarantine thing. He also said that, naturally, he assumed he was hallucinating earlier this afternoon when he saw the strange bird that he saw in his dream sitting on his windowsill, staring at him. I asked him how he knew it wasn’t just, y’know, a normal bird, and he looked at me like I had questioned his very intelligence, and his science degree. 

He said throughout the rest of the day, he kept having these moments where reality would blip, and- and he would be seeing or experiencing something he had dreamed about. His grandmother’s house that was actually his high school gym. A tree he desperately needed to cut the branches back on but every time he turned his head, it moved… 

He also told me that he spoke to many of you throughout the day today, and many of you said the same thing. Your dreams are coming true. Not dreams as in goals and aspirations, though that’d be nice, but dreams as in ‘subconscious images conjured up by your brain as you sleep’. 

And by coming true, I mean manifesting in real, physical ways. Bleeding into the waking here and now. I don’t have much more on the why, the what, and the how, but I’m reminded of that broadcast from a good while ago where abstract, physical manifestations of dreams appeared all over the area. Maybe this is some sort of… escalation of that principle? Concept? Phenomenon? Whatever the right word is there. 

Again, I’m sorry to have been, you know, absent from you. I perhaps could have been keeping you all updated about this, and, I know, last time, there was some dangerous aspect of these dreams we were only able to express in vague terms and warnings… I have no idea what the deal with these waking dreams is but I’d be inclined to assume it's best to exercise caution. It's hard to say what sort of impact or power these dreams might have over reality, if they can leave any sort of– permanent mark. It sounds as though, so far, these waking dreams have been subdued if disorienting- 

JESS: [YAWNS AGAIN, THEN WINCES] Ah, stupid–

I forgot to offer yesterday, but uh, if anyone collects such things and would like my tooth, I’m, uh, not doing anything with it anymore. I should say it's been cleaned of all viscera, if that makes or breaks it for you.  

[MUSIC] 

Aside from dreams, those voids are still out there, being all, ominous. Looking almost like weird, dark patches on one’s vision, they seem both so out of place and so deeply fused to this existence, if that makes sense. Glowing, but with shadow, with dark. I don’t have much more to say about them except avoid them. I uh, almost walked into one on my way home, I wasn’t looking where I was going and I can’t imagine that would have been good. 

I could… I don’t know, I swear I could hear something like… like the ocean on the other side, that ebb and flow white noise of the waves… I don’t know, I think it sort of… seeped into my brain and called to me… 

Whoa. I didn’t notice when I turned the lights out, but… 

Motthew… he’s glowing. Like, a glow stick, a sort of- green. 

I- I don’t think he was doing that yesterday. I was going to ask if moths can glow in the dark, but asking what’s possible feels silly– 

JESS: [YAWNING AGAIN]

[STRANGE TRANSITION]

JESS: [Softly] What the hell… 

JESS: Listeners- I, I don’t know if you can still hear me. [TOUCHING THE MIC] I- I can feel the microphone in front of me, but I can’t see it. Everything’s fallen away and… I- I don’t remember dozing off? But I feel strange… like I’ve fallen asleep. Or like I’ve been drugged. Or my body’s finally giving out. Things are fuzzy. Blurred. Like I’ve opened my eyes under water. 

I feel strange, and now… 

Oh. Things are… clearer now. I’m in… a diner. Not Mountainview, just… a diner. Whatever you picture when I say diner, that’s it… 

It has walls, floors, ceiling, gently buzzing incandescent lights, windows with a strange mix of swirling colour and deep shadow beyond them- y’know, classic diner stuff. It is every diner and no diner that has or ever will exist. 

I think… listeners, I see- there’s someone waiting. In the last booth.

[GASP, LOW] 

Holy shit. I remember this. 

[FOOTSTEPS, SITTING DOWN. SOME SILENCE. MOVEMENT. AN INHALE. THEN:]

JESS: Wait… 

She’s gone. Holy shit, this is… 

Listeners… I don’t quite know how to describe how I’m feeling right now. I… feel restless… and like my bones are made of dead-air static and I don’t know if it is fear or confusion or something far less concrete, but… 

[THUNDER LIKE SOUND] 

ELLIOT: Storm’s coming. 

[TURNS IN SEAT. SEEING]

Elliot… ? What are you doing here? Where did you come from? 

ELLIOT: Don’t you hear it? The giant, cosmic exhale. The great, wide blackened sky, shuddering and easing. 

JESS: What is that? 

ELLIOT: It's getting closer. 

JESS: Elliot- you, you died-

ELLIOT: You don’t want to be here when it arrives. But I don’t want to go back out there. It's so cold. I can’t bear it. 

JESS: What happened to you, where did you go? 

ELLIOT: There’s something on the other side. 

JESS: Of what? 

ELLIOT: Death. The edge of every universe. Don’t you hear it? I think I have to go now. 

JESS: Go where? 

[THE SOUND OF A BELL AS THE DINER DOOR OPENS AND CLOSES. MOVEMENT, FOOTSTEPS]

JESS: Elliot? 

Listeners… I am not sure if you can still hear me. I am not sure if I am even still broadcasting or- or where I am but if you can… I don’t know. Maybe you heard that. I have no explanation for what’s happening. I don’t know why Elliot was here, or if he was really here. It sounded like someone came in… but when I turned back, he was gone. 

I’m- I’m standing in front of the front window now, trying to look out into the darkness beyond. It's so- so bright in here that I can mostly just see a hollow reflection of myself in the glass… The interior of the diner doesn’t… have a reflection. Just me. But beyond the fluorescent light behind me, on the other side of the glass, the darkness is… shifting. There’s a faint colour at the heart of it. Dark emerald and violet and red… just barely visible, writhing among the shadows. It looks like a storm, but it feels… like it's breathing. 

[THUNDER LIKE SOUND AGAIN]

And there- with the sound, a faint flash- like lightning, dulled and distant. [PAUSE] I think I saw the silhouette of… something out there. 

FACELESS: It's farther away than it looks. 

JESS: What? Where did you… ?

FACELESS: Through the door. Would you like to join me? 

JESS: Who are you? 

FACELESS: An old friend. A dream. 

JESS: I remember you… why do I know you? We’ve never met– 

FACELESS: I am The Faceless. 

JESS: …I don’t understand. This is… 

FACELESS: Please, sit. 

[LOUD, LOW, RUMBLING THAT SHAKES THE ENTIRE BUILDING]

JESS: Shouldn’t we get out of here? 

FACELESS: Not yet. 

JESS: We still have time? 

FACELESS: Not exactly. 

[JESS SITS]

JESS: What is it? 

FACELESS: The End. 

JESS: Okay… What is this place? Where are we? 

FACELESS: Nowhere. 

[JESS LAUGHS LIGHTLY]

FACELESS: You’re at your table. Still in your kitchen. You’re on air. 

JESS: Why does ‘nowhere’ look like a diner? 

FACELESS: You don’t recognize it? This is your dream. You could make it look like something else, if you’d like. 

JESS: I fell asleep, then?  

FACELESS: In a way. 

JESS: It's kind of a yes or no thing- 

FACELESS: Things are rarely so concrete. 

JESS: I- this is bizarre. 

FACELESS: No more bizarre than other dreams. 

JESS: It's the whole dream thing that’s bizarre. I mean, how-? How was I- am I here again?

FACELESS: You’ve been sleeping on the threshold. Sometimes things seep in, sometimes things leak out. 

JESS: Like you? Who are you? 

FACELESS: I am the Faceless. Keeper of Many Paths. 

JESS: Is this… is this even real? 

FACELESS: Like I said, things are rarely so concrete. 

JESS: Okay, so, what are you I guess is the better question? Sorry if that's… rude. It's been a while since I did an interview. 

FACELESS: I understand you’ve met some of my listeners. 

JESS: “Listeners”? 

FACELESS: Not the best word for it. People I’ve revealed myself to. 

JESS: Wait, so, like, River-? 

FACELESS: I guide them, speak to them- those in touch with the very heart of things, who have greater roles to play. 

JESS: Is this… am I…? 

FACELESS: Not quite. For you… this is a different sort of visit. 

JESS: Okay, I… [LAUGHS WEAKLY] Listen, I- 

FACELESS: I understand you’re very tired. Coffee? 

JESS: This is a dream. 

FACELESS: Your dream. So dream of coffee. 

JESS: You mean, just like- 

[SOUND OF A CUP SLIDING ACROSS THE TABLE]

JESS: Oh. Cool. I’m not supposed to drink this, apparently, it–... screw it. It's just a dream, right?  

FACELESS: It couldn’t hurt now anyways. You’ve gone too far to turn back. 

[SOUNDS IN THE DISTANCE] 

JESS: Can I ask you something? 

FACELESS: Something else, you mean. 

JESS: Yeah. Ha. Uh, your… tattoos. If they’re tattoos… 

FACELESS: In a way. 

JESS: They look… I’ve seen them before. I have some that look like that. 

FACELESS: Yes. You do. That wasn’t a question. 

JESS: Right. 

FACELESS: Are you asking why, or are you asking what?

JESS: I’m- I’m not sure. I think I’m asking-- how? Maybe all three actually. How, why what– if that’s not too much– 

FACELESS: Things of great impact often leave scars. Marks. 

JESS: I… I think I get it…  

FACELESS: Is that all you wanted to ask? 

JESS: No. I have so many questions… why are we here, I guess? 

FACELESS: Why indeed. 

JESS: I mean, okay, you said ‘different sort of visit.’ What kind of visit is this? 

FACELESS: It was time to meet properly. Face to, well, face, metaphorically speaking. 

JESS: Okay. Well. Hi. You just stopped in for a metaphysical chat and subconscious cup of coffee… why? 

FACELESS: Like I said. This is an introduction. 

JESS: To you? 

FACELESS: More so to the path. To what’s out there. You’ve been wondering for a long time, haven’t you? 

JESS: You said it was the end-- outside. Like, the end? 

FACELESS: Something like me. 

JESS: That doesn’t exactly clear things up–

FACELESS: You’ve seen what it does. And, you’ve met another.“It That Comes After.”  

JESS: Is that… 

FACELESS: No. Out there, the shadow at the edge: that’s The End. But, before it… 

JESS: “Before?” 

FACELESS: The storm. Swallower of worlds. The writhing, winding colour. The deep rumbling. The cracks in the thinning walls. 

JESS: I don’t– what are you saying? You mean… that-- it's here? I- did it follow me through? 

FACELESS: It exists outside of all things. But there is always a door, always a beacon. It caught your scent, picked up your trail, like a hound off a splatter of blood in the dirt. It took a piece of you…  

JESS: [WINCES] I remember… 

FACELESS: I know you still dream about it, and it knows too. You have not been careful. The door has been opened too many times. 

JESS: I-... Look- I still don’t understand what you’re saying… why now, why- this? If it's here–? 

FACELESS: Don’t make the mistake of believing that I, or anything like me, has your best interest at heart. This is beyond you, little one. I am not here to give you advice. 

JESS: So why are you here? 

FACELESS: I am here to make sure you understand what’s at stake. That, out there. 

JESS: Elliot said it was getting closer. 

FACELESS: Too close. Too fast. 

JESS: But it isn’t the end?

FACELESS: No. 

JESS: Then, what is it? 

FACELESS: You remember. 

JESS: Just, what it does, and what it left behind. No one ever told me what it was. 

FACELESS: That which finds the thinnest walls between worlds, and presses against the threshold, listening. A storm. Hungering. As you well know, there are worlds stranger than others, and that corruption has a source. A wellspring. Writhing limbs, outstretched and reaching. Finding, tearing doors through the walls into each world. Only, this time… 

JESS: This time? 

FACELESS: It had help. The hole was torn open from this side of the divide. And further still, something calls to it. 

JESS: What does that mean? 

FACELESS: The End is meant to pave the way for the hunger to consume. It shouldn’t come to a world The End hasn’t touched. 

JESS: Okay- I don’t understand- 

FACELESS: Then be quiet and listen. You’ve noticed your part of this world is growing stranger. Like all worlds, this one has been dying for a long time. Since before your town was founded more than a century ago. Some of them knew it even then. Some know it even now. Much like you are- people- dying slowly, moment by moment. And much in the same way you could die any manner of death, so do worlds. A supernova, a bullet, sudden or slow, it is always from the root, the heart of something, moving out. There is always a centre point. All points and paths converge. But, this one… The End hasn’t passed over, and yet, That Which Will Be All approaches. Lurks. Looms, a shadow rising from the horizon, beckoned. 

JESS: So you’re saying, what… the world, this one, is… ending? 

FACELESS: All are. All have. All do. You’ve seen it before. 

JESS: Okay, I know, but that was… Here- are you saying we caused it? Too soon? How, how does that even happen? Why would you come to me about it? 

FACELESS: It makes no difference that it is you. But it is you. 

JESS: How does a world end wrong? Who’s to say how it's supposed to happen or if it's too fast--? 

FACELESS: I am. It is mine to say. 

JESS: Forgive me for sounding a little nihilistic, but why does it matter? 

FACELESS: There is an order to things. A world should end before it is consumed. But now, cracks have splintered. Paths have formed and fallen away. It's being called forth. 

[RUMBLING AGAIN.]

JESS: “Consumed”? 

FACELESS: You’ve seen it before. And in your dreams. 

JESS: How do you know my dreams? How do you even know me? What is happening–?!

FACELESS: As I have said, you have not been careful. There are many things that listen, that press their ears to the other side of the door. 

JESS: So, how do we stop it? If you can like, tell or whatever, how does it happen? What have we done and how do we stop it- or, slow it down? Where is the– this centre point? 

FACELESS: There are things that aren’t even mine to know. I only know the paths. My listeners make their best guesses as to where they lead, sense the weakest spots in this and use them to our advantage… but— 

JESS: [GROANS, FRUSTRATED] Okay. So. You see the end? 

FACELESS: I see The End, always, farther away. A constant shadow on my gaze. 

JESS: And… what is it?

FACELESS: Everything is just another place. Home. A dream. Death. Nowhere. The boundaries between. But every place has a moment. A door must be opened to be closed. A dream must be had. There is a time for such things. 

JESS: So, this is- a warning?- what is happening? What the hell am I supposed to do? 

FACELESS: You are the voice, are you not? You are the one calling out. You are the community radio host. 

JESS: [BITTER LAUGH/SIGH] No offense, but this is above my paygrade– 

FACELESS: Even so, it has fallen to you. 

JESS: What has fallen to me? I- I can’t deal with this, I don’t even know– you’re just saying things, this makes NO SENSE I don’-t–!

FACELESS: You want your world to die before it's dead? You want your home, those you love, to suffer an end they weren’t meant to know? To be consumed by it? Again? Are you content to watch another world you love be lost? 

JESS: No!- I just-- Why are you even talking to me? I still don’t understand: why are you here? What are you actually saying?? What am I supposed to do? What? 

FACELESS: Change. Close the door. You have taken the first steps on this path, but you must keep going. 

JESS: Keep going how? Close what fucking door?! Do you stop in on all the radio hosts and give cryptic, apocalyptic warnings – ?

FACELESS: You’re the longest surviving radio host in Braedon. 

JESS: What does that have to do with any of this? 

FACELESS: You are an outsider, little one. You don’t belong here. Perhaps you were protected long enough by the nature of this place, but it's found you again. The last, wandering piece. The doorstop that just wouldn’t budge. 

[PAUSE. QUIETER:]

JESS: Why are you– why are you even here? Why did you come? Just to show me the end and tell me it's my fault? 

FACELESS: Surely some part of you already knew? 

JESS: No… that’s not fair– 

FACELESS: Do you understand what is being asked of you? Do you understand what is at stake?

JESS: No! How am I supposed to understand when you won’t actually SAY ANYTHING–

FACELESS: Perhaps if you had stayed away, there may have been another road. Why did you come back? Why are you here? 

JESS: I don’t know. I didn’t– I didn’t try to. I didn’t ask for it. River opened the door. [BEAT] You didn’t tell them to? Why are you here? What does ANY of this even mean? 

FACELESS: This is your dream. You dreamt of me. 

JESS: Is this even real? 

FACELESS: Things are rarely so concrete. 

JESS: Why not? Why can’t you just say something- 

FACELESS: I come to you as a dream does. A dream is a thing of the quiet mind. Your mind is searching for answers, so you are dreaming of answers. 

JESS: Real answers? And what answers– I don’t know what you’re even saying- let alone what I could do about of this– 

FACELESS: [FIRMLY] Do you understand what’s at stake? 

[SOUNDS BEGIN TO RISE, LOUDER]

JESS: But what do I do? 

FACELESS: The paths have been narrowed, and one remains. The storm brews on the horizon, but it is not too late for the door to be closed to what’s out there. 

JESS: So how do I close it? Wh- where did–? Don’t just leave me here! How do I close it?! What the hell do you want me to do?! 

[REVERSAL OF TRANSITION INTO DREAM. MUFFLED VOICES. STATIC.]