#[ this is gonna become a long term project of coloring my money piece different colors ]

[bloodiedbiotic]

I’m awake and sober after last night’s birthday pre-gaming but here’s a better look at my hair!

[letterboxd]

Horse Power.

The Nest’s writer-director Sean Durkin talks about creating atmosphere, watching films without judgment, and the best movies of 1986.

Downfalls in Hollywood movies tend to be chaotic, dramatic and a lot of fun along the way. From Citizen Kane to The Wolf of Wall Street, outsized ambitions are realized on screen in castles, exotic holidays, wild parties, sweeping us up in the extravagance of it all, before the inevitable crash. The Nest takes a slower, far more British view of ambition and its effects on family—or, as Charlie writes, “this movie is a reminder that people who call themselves entrepreneurs should instead be stay-at-home dads”.

The new film from writer-director Sean Durkin, the brain behind cult-survivor slow-burn Martha Marcy May Marlene, is less “strap in and enjoy the ride”, more “slow disintegration of all sense of sanity”—a tense psychological drama focused on the person who usually gets hurt the most: the wife. And that horse-lovin’ dream wife Allison, as played by Carrie Coon, is a character to behold (and the subject of many obsessive The Nest reviews on Letterboxd).

Just as Durkin takes time to carefully explore Martha’s vulnerability in his earlier film, in The Nest, he closes in on Allison, as she and their children adjust to 1980s life in an English manor, far from the comfort of Allison’s American home, while wheeler-dealer husband Rory (Jude Law) chases a new opportunity.

There are thematic similarities in both films; a case to be made that ambitious men wreak a comparable mental destruction on their families as cult leaders do on their followers, breaking them down with charm, persuasion, false promises. There’s also something about the juxtaposition of periods in the film—the fifteenth-century manor vs the ’80s bangers on the soundtrack—that adds to The Nest’s unnerving atmosphere (other parts of the soundtrack are composed by Arcade Fire’s Richard Reed Parry in his first film-score credit).

Keen to understand more about Durkin’s influences and memories, Jack Moulton put him through the Letterboxd Life in Film interrogation.

Carrie Coon as Allison O’Hara in ‘The Nest’.

The Nest feels like a very personal film. In what ways are the emotions of the premise personal to you? When I was making Southcliffe in 2012, I was back in England where I spent my childhood and I hadn’t been back in close to twenty years. It really struck me how London and New York felt very similar now but they didn’t when I was a kid. I thought maybe I wanted to make a film about a family that moves in that time and how a move can affect a family. As I wrote the script, I became a parent, so it became as much a reflection of modern adulthood as it did about my childhood in the ’80s. Although it’s a period piece, I wanted to make it feel very close to today to look at the celebrated values of the time and how those are still very relevant.

The mansion the family moves into is the titular ‘nest’, and the use of space and atmosphere contribute so much to the film’s subtext. What were you looking for when location scouting for the house? Was it an easy or difficult process? Yeah, it was difficult. It was like doing an open casting call. I had a very specific idea in my head but [my production designer] was able to put it into actual architectural terms so we were able to find a house that a successful commodities broker would live and commute from in Surrey. We needed something beyond that, but if you go too far, you get small castles. Once we located the right exterior, there were a bunch of [houses] that would’ve been great, but when we got inside, there were no open spaces. I wanted to have long hallways to be able to see through multiple rooms to create that isolation—the opposite of the cozy American house that they were living in before, to really highlight the good life they left behind.

Carrie Coon and Jude Law in ‘The Nest’.

We love the soundtrack; not just the choice of songs but the way that they’re mixed. Can you give us some insight into the song selection? When writing, I build a playlist that I write to. This one was a mix of personal memories from childhood—like Simply Red, which takes me back to falling asleep in the back of my dad’s car—so there’s a way into writing there on a sensory level, and then I build upon it with songs that I love from the time. I was listening to Richard Reed Parry’s Music for Heart and Breath album a lot and he ended up being the composer of the film, so his music was always part of the heart of the movie as I was writing it.

I would spend my drives to set with my assistant talking about music and he would turn me onto some stuff that would make it into the movie. It was a mix of a long-running preparation and things that I pick up in the moment then making that all work at the right level so it feels of the world. Like with The Cure, we actually played that off a tape cassette when Allison walks into the room.

Since your debut feature in 2011, you’ve had a prolific career in television and as a film producer; you’re a founding member of Borderline Films with fellow directors Antonio Campos and Josh Mond. Do you see yourself more as a producer who only occasionally directs films yourself? No, I don’t really consider myself a producer. I’ve produced movies for filmmakers and friends and I help people where I can. I’m not someone who’s out getting properties and thinking about how to put together a film, I’m only thinking about my own work as a writer and a director. Between finishing Southcliffe in 2013 and The Nest in 2018, I had a five-year gap where I was developing lots of projects one after the other—two features and a television show—that were both so close to [being greenlit] but something fell through, which was really bad luck.

What film made you want to become a filmmaker? The Goonies and Back to the Future were those movies as a kid that first made me want to make movies and tell stories, but the moment where I realized what filmmaking is was seeing The Shining. I saw it for the first time when I was eleven or twelve and a friend showed it to me because his older brother had the VHS. It was my first time understanding atmosphere and direction and I just had a sense that I could do it too. It was a really crucial moment, and I kept that thought to myself for a very long time.

Cinematographer Mátyás Erdély shoots Carrie Coon in Soho.

What’s your scariest film that is not technically horror? AKA, your area of expertise. Oh man, scariest? Something I’ve watched recently is The Vanishing and it’s probably one of the most unsettling films I’ve ever seen. It was incredible to rewatch it because I’d last seen it when I was in college—I watched everything back then—and I’d also seen the American remake, so when I watched it this time, I was trying to remember things [that were different] from the remake. I was like “he’s gonna get out, right?—oh no, that’s in the American version!” I find it an astonishing movie. There’s a real human element to the pain of the killer.

Let’s nerd out: what’s your top film of 1986, the year that The Nest is set? [Laughs] I’ve no idea what came out in 1986. Can I look up a list and I’ll tell you? Let’s see, films of 1986… This is fun! Alright, “popular films of 1986” I’m seeing: Blue Velvet, Short Circuit, Stand by Me, Platoon, The Color of Money, what else have we got here? River’s Edge… Pretty in Pink… Ferris Bueller’s Day Off—Ferris Bueller’s gotta be up there. Big Trouble in Little China! That’s it! I’m sure there’s other things, but from my quick search, I’d say Big Trouble in Little China. That was a movie that was always on in my house because it was one of my dad’s all-time favorites.

Which is Jude Law’s best performance? I love The Talented Mr. Ripley so much. I constantly rewatch that movie—it’s perfect. I also loved him in Vox Lux recently.

Sean Durkin and Jude Law on the set of ‘The Nest’.

What is the best film about marriage and why does it resonate with you? Shoot the Moon was really influential for me. I’d say it’s a bit more about divorce and family than it is about marriage but [it depends on] if you take the ending to mean that they’re going to stay together—I kind of do. You could say a separation is part of a marriage. I love that movie for how it finds light in humor. Albert Finney is struggling with his masculinity where, even though he’s the one who left, he still thinks he owns it all, and Diane Keaton is quite liberated by this scenario. It’s like their journey to find language again. I find it very beautiful.

Which film was your entry-point into international cinema? I’m trying to think back to what I would’ve seen, there certainly wasn’t a lot growing up. In college I really discovered Michael Haneke and Michelangelo Antonioni. L’Avventura made a huge impact on me. I think [because of the way] the mystery kind of dissolves and it’s about the journey, not the solution.

What film do you wish you’d made? I don’t. Filmmaking is personal and it’s so much an expression of perspective when done with care and love—though obviously, there’s stuff that’s just churned out. I never see something and say “I wish I made that”. One of the things I find hard is when people critique films and say they would’ve done this differently. I’ve become very sensitive to that over time because every choice you make as a filmmaker is so specific and thought out. I try to consume movies without knowing anything about them or making any kind of judgment. I just let them be what they are and wash over me.

Which newcomer director should we all keep our eyes on? I don’t think I’m looking out for new stuff necessarily. Once I get to see something, everyone else already knows about it. One person I would say is Dave Franco, who I just worked with on The Rental. I was an executive producer and I was a creative bounce-board for Dave through the process. It’s his first film and it’s astonishingly directed. We were getting dailies from the first week and we were like, “This is his first movie? This is insane!” I think he will do some exciting things.

Finally, what’s your favorite film of 2020 so far? I was absolutely blown away by Eliza Hittman’s film Never Rarely Sometimes Always. I miss having retrospectives at local theaters, which I’m always keyed into no matter the city I’m living in. I’ve started watching a lot of Criterion Channel and I watched a movie recently that’s taken over my brain: Variety, by Bette Gordon, from 1983. It’s set in New York City around Times Square, and it’s this incredible journey that this woman goes on that captured my mind.

Related content

Sean Durkin’s Life in Film list

Sean Durkin’s Sight & Sound Top 10

Clarissa’s list of films that burn slowly

Everything Carrie Coon watched during quarantine (and the best of that huge list)

Tracy Letts and Carrie Coon’s 24-Hour Movie Marathon

Follow Jack on Letterboxd

[47pictures]

“Dandelion” [PT. I]

Link to original r/nosleep story here:

https://www.reddit.com/r/libraryofshadows/comments/o7tj7w/dandelion_part_1/

I’d never participated in a group study of any kind before, so for it being my first, I felt like I was actually contributing something useful to the world of science. Some students around campus said there may even be some money involved, mainly just mentioned as an incentive to join in the first place, of course. I volunteered specifically for this one due to the subject matter that its research was geared towards, one that I found a bit fascinating.

Dreams… or, so they advertised. More so the study of how the subconscious works in correlation to our deep-rooted memories.

Dr. Ramirez, young and beautiful, and probably in her mid to late-twenties, explained it all just perfectly, and perhaps in the easiest way it could be.

In the room just ahead of the lab, she gave me a quick rundown of how exactly the machine was going to work. On a dry-erase board, she drew one big near-perfect circle, and inside of it drew another smaller circle. She then pointed at the smaller circle with her marker.

“Let’s say this is the Earth,” she started. I nodded, following along. “And this,” she went on, as she motioned around the bigger circle, “is space and beyond. Everything outside of here is full of endless possibilities, right? You’ve got your other planets, asteroids, comets, satellites, stars, and so on.”

I nodded again, a bit amused with her analogy, wherever it was pointing to.

She continued. “Now, can you imagine where I might be going with this?” she asked with a skittish smile.

I know she didn’t expect me to give her an even remotely correct answer.

“You’re gonna send me to space?” I dryly remarked.

She laughed. “Not quite, but I like your sense of humor.” At least she had one, I thought to myself.

Dr. Ramirez went on to further explain as she drew words over the top rim of each circle, labeling them. She started with the smaller circle.

“This is you, essentially,” she explained while simultaneously writing the word “conscious” over the top rim. She then moved over to the bigger circle. “And this is also you, but the vaster and more mysterious ‘you’, if that makes sense.”

She proceeded to write the word “Subconscious” on top of the larger one.

Thankfully she was a visual demonstrator and I was a visual learner. I remembered a decent bit of this when I took AP Psych back in high school, but then again, I barely passed AP Psych. Had a great teacher, though.

“Have you ever heard the expression ‘as above, so below’?” she asked me.

I suggestively tilted my head. “Here or there, maybe once or twice,” I answered.

“Well, the reason I ask is because I like to compare that exact same expression to how the subconscious and conscious works,” the doctor went on as she pointed at both words with her marker appropriately. “They are both one and the same, however, they like to work in different ways. As you may already know or at least have some sort of grasp on the topic, your subconscious stores most of your long-term data, you know, those memories that can go further back, or even some as recent as yesterday that your brain just decided to lock away in the back. These things don’t require your ‘conscious awareness’ or immediate focus, right?”

From what I noticed about her so far, Dr. Ramirez liked to talk with her hands, but I must say, she made it work for her. It was rather intriguing.

“Whether it’s driving a car, riding a bike, or playing the piano,” she continued. “Or heck, even learning a new language. At some point, you had to learn these things for the first time, and they required a great deal of conscious effort, yes?” I nodded. “So, thankfully, our brains have been blessed with the ability to ‘learn’.” She let out a short laugh. “And so, these memories are stored in our subconscious, where it basically becomes second nature to do these sorts of tasks. You with me so far?”

I nodded again to reassure her. My sandpaper-dry personality probably wasn’t helping, but she really did have my full attention whether she realized it or not. I hope she knew that I wouldn’t have volunteered otherwise.

“Now,” she started again, but this time drew another medium-sized circle just around the “Conscious”-labeled one, “Our understanding of dreams has always been sort of a mystery to science. Many say they’re just random jumbles that our brain picks from our subconscious, whereas some say they’re a state of mind that acts independently on its own. Well now, we’ve learned that both of those answers are… well, sort of correct.” She then labeled the circle that surrounded “Consciousness” under the name of “Dream State”. The entire diagram was starting to look like a big target, with “Consciousness” in the center, “Dream State” being the inner rim, and “Subconscious” as the outer rim.

“Think of our dreams as the Earth’s atmosphere,” she said. “Any sort of debris that enters the atmosphere at high speed, such as a meteor or fallen satellite, gets broken up into little pieces before it can cause some serious damage to all of us down below, right? I’m assuming you were awake for science class in middle school?”

“Eh,” I joked. She took it with a laugh, but if only she knew I used to have an issue falling asleep in school as a kid. “So, our dreams protect us from our subconscious, is that what I’m hearing?”

“Ooh, I like the way you think,” the doctor remarked. “I’d like to think of it more like, in a less catastrophic example, that our dreams ‘filter’ what our subconscious throws at us. Now, there’s still debate on whether or not our subconscious actively tries to communicate with us or our dreams are the ones pulling from our subconscious, but that’s beside the point. What we’ve come to learn, in the midst of all the chaos in our dream state, from being able to fly, seeing the sky turn a different color, seeing giant chickens cross the road, and whatever other crazy things people have mustered from their imagination is that dreams are no longer the barrier that stands between understanding our subconscious. We’ve now developed a way to essentially enter our subconscious state, unfiltered and uninterrupted.”

And that was where she threw me for a loop. I stammered to try and find the words to even begin questioning something so bizarre, but with no luck. I could tell she was amused by my bewilderment from the smile on her face. We'd come so far in technology and scientific advances - was this it? Is this what the future held all this time?

“So, Mr. Thompson,” Dr. Ramirez spoke. “Are you ready to explore space?”

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

She led me to the lab room where we would be doing our first session of the experiment. I was expecting something more intricate or complex. In reality, the setup was quite minimal. An operating stool sat in the center as expected, and next to it stood a monitor that I assumed was for checking my pulse. Along the wall was the real sight to behold. Large screens displaying all sorts of numbers and diagrams in which I couldn’t even comprehend their meaning. Though, from what I could probably guess, it looked like some sort of EEG setup. I’d seen it in movies and documentaries (and back in AP Psych class), but never in person.

“Now before we start, I have to ask if you’ve eaten in the past 8 hours?” Dr. Ramirez asked. “It’s a precaution we take for all of our test subjects due to the side effect of leaving the hub.”

“Uh, just a protein bar,” I said. “Did you say ‘hub’?”

“Oh, yes, that’s sort of the nickname we came up with for what’s basically the ‘subconscious state’.”

“Oh…”

“So that’s good that you’ve had some form of sugar and carbs at least today. Sometimes people report feeling a bit lightheaded or lethargic after the session, and the first thing they’ll usually want is a coffee or a soda. We have a vending machine for soda, snacks, or coffee - whichever you prefer - across the hall if you need them afterwards.”

All this time we had discussed going from point A to B, but not how. Looking around the room, seeing all the tech being used, I couldn’t imagine the funding that must’ve been poured into this project.

“I’m sure you’ll get to it soon enough, but how exactly does this work?” I finally asked, doing my best not to sound impatient. Dr. Ramirez, however, seemed more than happy to explain.

“I thought you’d never ask,” she replied. “Well let me just give you a basic rundown of what this all does and how it’s going to affect you.”

She picked up a small lightweight device from the table that clearly looked like some sort of headset, much akin to a VR one. However, it had a sort of synthetic material cap attached to it, with multiple white dot-like pieces carefully placed. It certainly looked like an EEG device for scanning the brain, as I'd guessed earlier.

“This is why we’re here today,” said Ramirez, pointing at the device with her free hand. “This little guy here is called the Cadacus.”

I cocked a brow.

“Supposedly it’s derivative of Hermes’ staff, you know, in mythology, the symbol used for ambulances and medical-related stuff?”

“Mmm,” I understandingly nodded.

“I tried to tell them that one, it’s spelled wrong, and two, it’s not even pronounced correctly,” she said, rather annoyed. “It’s supposed to be ‘Ca-doo-she-us’, but, then again, I’m not the one who invented it, so Dr. Lockhardt gets the final say on that.”

She then handed me the set for me to get a feel for it and analyze it for myself. Nifty, needless to say. As she had explained, the device was capable of not (and she greatly stressed) recording your dreams, per se, but instead taking you into your ‘subconscious’ world. Dreams are merely the barrier blocking us from seeing our subconscious thoughts and memories uninterrupted. In dreams, situations and objects might change sporadically at any given time without warning. One of the greatest struggles, she explained, when testing the Cadacus was trying to find the breakthrough in how exactly to bypass the REM cycle, which is when most of our dreaming occurs. But she explained that as well…

“In the world of science and medicine, or rather human innovation as a whole, we’ve learned how to basically pick certain parts of our brain and utilize them how we see fit, and not the other way around,” she preached. “Not have them decide for us. Essentially, Cadacus allows us to hack certain parts of the brain that are responsible for letting us take a peek inside our deepest embedded memories. I like to tell people the closest thing we have to a time machine is our own brain. In it lies a whole world of events and moments that you may have forgotten, or choose to have forgotten.”

“So what’s to stop it from peeking into memories that are… I don’t know, better left forgotten?” I proposed. Of course, she had an answer for that as well.

“Great question. So the beauty of Cadacus is that just like I mentioned, you now have the utmost control over what you decide to see… or, at least we’re testing to make sure things stay that way.”

And there it was. That was the catch. After all, nothing was ever perfect.

“I’m sorry, I just have to ask, how many people have you tested this thing on?” I boldly inquired. Ramirez seemed unbothered by the question, though. In fact, nothing seemed to bother her with everything I asked. To me, it conveyed confidence in the things she spoke on, which I hoped also equated to her being sincere.

She chuckled. “Honest answer? About twenty-four so far. Now I’m sure the real reason you’re asking is because you want to know how many of those tests turned out successful or not, yeah?”

I answered with a guilty smirk. Absolutely that’s why I asked.

“Well you have nothing to worry about, Mr. Thompson,” she reassured. “All of the people who’ve participated so far haven’t reported any negative side effects, other than the low energy blunder right after the exiting the hub. So you're not gonna have to worry about spazzing out or going 'mental' in any sort of fashion. And keep in mind, these tests were done over the course of weeks, and some even months, depending on whether or not we came across more interesting findings during the sessions.”

She really didn't back down from a fight. Ramirez stuck to her facts, despite how truthful or not they were, unbeknownst to me. I took in a short tense breath, then exhaled.

“All right, but you have to promise me one thing,” I said.

“Yeah?”

“Call me Travis. If I’m supposed to trust you with handling my brain, we oughta start getting to know each other a little better, don’t you agree?”

She smiled and nodded. “Fair enough,” she replied. “In that case, you may call me Jennifer.”

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The Cadacus was now all set, and we were ready to start. The headset over my eyes, electrodes covering my scalp, and the HRM hooked to my wrist and chest were all properly configured. Jennifer also had everything she needed set up on her giant monitor, where she could now see my full brain, able to pinpoint any changes in activity. From my perspective, the Cadacus headset made everything in the room look like I was peering through a fish-eye lens scope. It was all blurred and a bit disorienting, but it wouldn’t be for long once I entered the hub, Jennifer informed me.

“You ready?” she asked, sounding more excited than I was.

“Sure,” I answered, lying through my teeth.

“Oh yeah? ‘Cause from the looks of it, you seem pretty nervous.”

I knew she had to be looking at my heartbeat to know that.

“It’s okay, everyone experiences the same thing,” she added before I could say anything. “Just try to relax. Remember, it’s not like a dream where you have no sort of control over what happens to you. You’ll have control over the things you experience just like you would in the comfort of your own home, based on the words that I give you. You don’t have to see something scary if you won’t want to. Remember that, okay?”

I took a deep breath. “Okay,” I complied.

“Good.” She gave me a pat on the shoulder and walked back over to her desk by her computer and giant monitor. “Alright, so what I’m gonna do is I’m gonna have you count down to 'one', starting from 'five' when I say so. Sound good?”

“Ready when you are,” I answered.

“Alright…”

I couldn’t see her really from the corner of my goggles, but I could hear her hit a few keys on her computer, along with two clicks of her mouse.

“Okay...” she started.

And with one final click of her mouse, a high-pitched whirring sound began to emit from the Cadacus and straight into both of my ears. It reminded me of the times I had to get a hearing test done, and all those high-frequency noises sounding from left to right.

“Go ahead and countdown for me,” she said.

“Five,” I began. “Four. Three. Two-”

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

I’m not sure how quickly it all happened, but the next thing I knew, I was suddenly standing alone in the center of some vast blackness of space, as I opened my eyes. The only light came from above in the form of what looked to be a stage spotlight, which shined down on me. I didn’t have the sensation that I was dreaming, though. I felt fully present and aware of the fact that I didn’t even finish my countdown. Just moments ago, I thought, the last number I was on was ‘two’. And now this is where I was. Not laying in the chair of the lab room, no headset or goggles covering my face...

Then a faint, echoey voice sounded from no particular direction. It seemed to come from everywhere.

“Travis, can you hear me?” it spoke. “This is Jennifer. If you can hear me, just go ahead and say something.”

Amazing. She wasn’t kidding. It’s as if she were God herself.

“Yeah…” I answered unsurely. “Can you hear me?”

“Perfect, I hear you just fine,” Jennifer spoke back from the ‘beyond’.

This was a bit too trippy for me. I really didn’t know what to expect, but this exceeded anything I could’ve possibly rehearsed prior in my head.

“You never did count to one,” she joked.

“Oh yeah, um… one,” I remarked. I could even hear her laugh just the same as if she were right next to me. Her voice began to sound more and more clear as she kept talking.

“There we go. Now tell me, right now, what is it that you see?”

Not a damn thing, I wanted to say. But I gave her what I could.

“Well…” I began, looking all around me, still under the spotlight, “I’m standing in… what I think is a stage, and there’s like…” I looked directly up, “... a spotlight right over me.”

“Interesting,” I heard Jennifer say. “That’s a new one for me.”

“Where am I?” I asked.

“So, you’re actually in ‘the hub’ as we speak. This is just your interpretation of it.”

“My interpretation?”

“Uh-huh. So what happens is that basically, our own subconscious mind presents itself to us through its own unique layout, or environment, if you will. For instance, every time I went through it, I was always standing in a giant ocean of shallow water, and a bright blue sky with no sun in sight. Others see a never-ending field of grass, a barren desert, or maybe even an empty warehouse, in some cases.”

“Huh…” I quietly mumbled.

“So for you, your subconscious presents itself in the form of an unlit stage, probably waiting to be filled.”

I expected to be more afraid, given that there was basically a never-ending plain of darkness beyond the spotlight, but to my own surprise, I found it a bit peaceful. It also helped that Jennifer was still with me.

“Your vitals appear to be in great shape, which is good. Means your body is responding well to the Cadacus so far. And on that note, I’m gonna begin going down our list of ‘sensory triggers’.

I wish she had picked a less threatening word than ‘triggers’, especially when I’m in a place so foreign to me (ironic, given that it is me).

“How this is going to work is that I’m going to give you a word, and with that word, I want you to close your eyes and concentrate as much as you can on connecting that word to a specific thought or memory, okay? It sounds odd, I know, but trust me, you’ll see pretty soon. Don't overthink it.”

“Well, I trusted you this far, haven’t I?” I remarked.

“Yes, indeed you have, and I’m thankful for that. Okay, so the first word I’m going to give you is… golf.”

“Okay,” I spoke under my breath, as I began to close my eyes.

I visualized everything that I possibly could relating to golf, all the way from a golf ball, to Tiger Woods, to a golf club, then to a field of low-cut grass, to a golf cart, and so on…

I did this for about five seconds before opening my eyes again. When I opened them, I was met with what I could only describe as the piece of a house set design. It truly was like I was on the stage for a film studio or theater. The set design only showed an open door and small portions of the perimeters of the walls of the structure. It was as if someone cut a portion of the house like a slice of cake, particularly the front door, and placed it in front of me.

“Do you see anything?” Jennifer’s voice asked.

I saw something, alright. The problem was, I didn’t exactly know what. Obviously, it was a house, but an incomplete one.

“Uh, I see… a part of a house,” I said. “Like, it sorts of looks like those half-built set houses that you see on film sets, you know, like for shows or movies?”

“Oh, I see. Interesting… Your subconscious mind must be very, hmm… imaginative? Or strongly connected to the cinematic or theatrical.”

“Hmmm... it's a theory.”

“Hey, no one knows you better than yourself, right?"

I shrugged. "I guess."

"I'm not trying to intrude or anything, this is just me taking notes to see if there’s perhaps a correlation between your own personal awareness and how your subconscious views itself, does that make sense?”

“Yep.” Sort of, anyway.

“Okay, so go ahead and do me a favor and try to describe the house to me. Or what you can of it, at least.”

“Well, the door is open,” I started.

“What’s the door look like?”

I shrugged. “I mean… it’s just a regular door. Brown, wooden, has a peephole and everything. Nothing too unordinary.”

“Okay… what else?”

From the brief pauses in between her sentences, I could tell she was taking notes.

“Um, from the portion of the house that I can see,” I continued, “it’s made out of wood instead of brick. Light-blue wood, to be exact. I can see a small little porch light perched in the corner, like just before the wall cut off.”

There was a brief awkward silence in between, which I assumed was my cue to keep talking while Jennifer kept taking notes.

“And…” I started again, this time trying to peer into the house through the open door. Oddly, I could see that there was an abundant amount of space between the open ‘stage’ and the inside of the set design house. From where I was standing just several feet away, there appeared to be stairs leading up to a second floor, and a bit to the right was a living room with a couch and perhaps other furniture hidden from view, and beyond, a small hallway leading to what looked to be a kitchen, and maybe even a backyard door and other rooms.

Physically, it didn’t actually make sense. There was no way for there to be all that space in between here and there. It was like looking through a portal, essentially, where the space in which I stood didn’t proportionally match the one in which I was viewing. I liked to call it the ‘small house, big space’ phenomenon. But this was something else entirely...

“It looks like I can go inside the house,” I finished.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Jennifer replied. “Do you want to?”

I didn’t seem to have anywhere else to go, so it seemed to be my only real option. I went ahead and walked towards the open door, my view of the inside space growing more and more visible. Once I made it inside, an overwhelming sensation that I couldn’t quite put my finger on began to overtake me. It wasn’t fear, it wasn’t joy, it wasn’t sadness… yet, in a strange way, it was almost all three of those things at once.

The house was well-lit in all spaces and corners, quite impossibly, given that there wasn’t enough light on the ceilings to emit such radiance. In fact, there didn’t seem to be a real source for light at all, as the one on the ceiling wasn’t even on. The house just emitted a sort of white luminescence, the kind I’d normally see from white plasma beam lights in bathrooms at gas station stops, and I could practically hear that low endless buzzing noise that filled the space.

But this time, I didn’t hear a noise at all. Silence filled the house instead. Pure silence. That was the only unnerving thing. Even odder, I couldn’t even hear my own heartbeat or breathing. Only the sound of my footsteps emerged here and there whenever I made a move across the wooden floor, leaving behind a faint echo, but that was it.

Taking in the overall atmosphere and setup of the house, for some reason, I felt as though I could guess, or even most certainly knew the time period in which the interior currently reflected. Perhaps late nineties to early 2000s. Maybe even pre-9/11. I wasn’t exactly sure on the year, but I just had that strange certitude of that particular era. Beige walls, carpeted flooring, and brown wooden kitchen cabinets all in a very particular layout that just seemed 'dated'.

“See anything interesting?” Jennifer asked.

“Well, if that’s the word you wanna use to describe this,” I muttered.

“Just say the first thing that’s on your mind.”

I looked around, trying to find the first thing I could to catch my eye. But something was extremely off about the house apart from its age. It’s as if I knew this place, but yet I couldn’t understand how. The smell even brought about a strange sense of familiarity. A faint scent of-

“Lavender,” I said. “It smells like lavender.”

There was a brief pause. Then Jennifer finally spoke. “Tell me, does the lavender scent mean anything to you? Maybe, bring you back to a certain time or place?”

“I… I think so. I’m not sure how, though.”

“What else can you tell me about the house?”

I glanced about again.

“There’s a corded phone sitting on a stand, next to a lamp and a recliner,” I said.

“Corded, huh?”

“Yeah, corded.”

“Does the house seem a bit… outdated? Or from a different time than present-day?”

Now it was as if she could read my mind.

“Yeah, that’s about right,” I concurred. “You know how some houses just look old? Like houses they just don't make anymore?”

I heard Jennifer let out a small chortle. “I know exactly what you mean.”

I shook my head confusingly. “But it’s like I know this place somehow,” I added.

“Well Travis, even though you nor myself know exactly where it is you are, I can tell you this. What you’re standing in right now is likely an old memory you’ve long forgotten, stored into the far reaches of your subconscious. You have been to this place before. This is your subconscious’s best replication and rendering - if you will - of the memory in a way that makes sense to you.” And yet, it didn’t make sense at the same time. “Can you see any pictures posted along the walls or perhaps over a fireplace anywhere?”

There actually was a fireplace in the living room, and plenty of picture frames. But there were no pictures. Not a single one in any of the big, small, and portrait-sized frames set throughout the house. Yet, they were all carefully positioned as though there were supposed to be photos within the frames for people to see.

“As a matter of fact, I don’t,” I answered, puzzled.

“I see,” Jennifer responded. “So as odd as that may seem, it’s actually a common thing people who’ve used the Cadacus report about seeing in ‘the hub’, or I guess I should say ‘not see’, in this case. Faces and actual people are a bit more difficult to render and replicate from stored memory banks. Over time, you forget exactly how someone’s face actually looks. You have an idea of how they appear, but you can’t actually remember all the fine details, such as exact facial structure, moles, size between the eyes, you name it. That’s why dreams tend to do a better job at showing you people you’ve seen more recently in your everyday life.”

It was a bit uncanny, if I’m being honest. The least my imagination could do was make up some pictures, I would think, at least just to fill the void. This was just flat out strange…

“Why can’t my subconscious substitute something, like how my dreams do?” I asked.

“Great question. This is where I have to break it to most people. Your imagination is practically meaningless in the hub. Scientists, psychologists and other researchers all over have started to come to the understanding that dreams and the imagination have more in common with each other than our subconscious and the imagination. The subconscious is more concrete and based on what actually happened, whereas dreams and the imagination focus on what could be, and possibly what can happen. So if the subconscious can’t actually remember something, it won’t be able to render it in the hub. That’s often why most subjects just see places and certain structures rather than actual people. Those things are easier for the mind to pick up on and remember to the best of detail.”

The longer I stood in this place, the more it gradually began feeling as though I were standing in a vacuum of space, with no real sense of time or reality. Where was I? How did this all come to be just from the word ‘golf’?

“Try exploring the house a bit more,” Jennifer suggested. “See if that does anything.”

I headed upstairs. Plastered along the walls leading up the stairs and beyond was a fully encompassing floral-design wallpaper. It was a very particular floral design, enough to bring back that sensation I felt earlier when I first stepped in the house...

“I’ve seen this wallpaper before,” I whispered, as I dragged my palm across the walls going up the stairs.

When I got to the top, I saw that the upstairs room was set up to be used for a gameroom. Oddly, the contrast in this room stood out from the downstairs. Small and ever-so-dim corners and shadows placed about the room reminded me of old photos that people used to take on those polaroid cameras from the 80s and 90s. It had a grainy look to it, as well as an uneven exposure. This time, though, it seemed as if I were in one of those pictures.

The space was almost entirely bare, except for a small entertainment system which stood against the wall (this one not being covered in floral design), accompanied by a bulky 30 to 35-inch CRT TV, and a Nintendo 64, with a game cartridge sticking up from inside that I couldn’t distinguish from this far. My mouth dropped open, astonished, and that excited feeling of electricity, the kind you get when you experience an ‘ah-ha’ moment, now replaced any other notion of uncertainty that I may have had before.

“Oh my god,” I spoke under my breath.

“Travis?” Jennifer’s voice sounded.

I let out a short, scoff-like chuckle as I clasped my hands over my head.

“This is my aunt’s old house,” I exclaimed. “My Aunt Deborah - this is her old house.”

"Now we're getting somewhere," Jennifer spoke in a proud tone.

I let out another laugh. “This is insane,” I commented. “I remember we visited here one time. A long time ago. And…”

I stepped towards the entertainment center, and bent over to get a closer peak at the N64. I now clearly saw what cartridge was inserted into the console, and a smile drew over my face.

“Good ol’ country club golf,” I finished. “Wow…”

“Country club golf?” Jennifer asked.

“One of the games we used to play on the ‘64 was Waialae Country Club. ‘True Classics’, to be exact.”

“Ah…”

“That’s insane...” I whispered under my breath.

“I told you you’d see where I was going with this, huh?” Jennifer teased.

I stammered, shaking my head, trying to contemplate what I was experiencing. This was something beyond any other thing I’ve done before. This was bigger than VR or AR. This was something else entirely. It knew my deepest memories and had made a place inside my own brain.

Jennifer continued. “You see, these words that I’m giving you is just a small example of what your subconscious can act with, based on just a single word that can trace back to countless other thoughts stored in your memory bank. We now are starting to understand why we dream something related to a conversation we might’ve had earlier that same day, and why our brains decided to cling onto that specific conversation or even a single word that was said. Cadacus allows us to do that exact same thing but on our own terms.”

Jennifer allowed me to explore the house a bit more. I tried checking out the other rooms, but each time I was met with nearly empty spaces. I’m not sure how my subconscious mind was trying to interpret the house, but it was the equivalent to a bad buffer, or loading bar that never quite finished. Some rooms had little furniture, and for the furniture that did exist, they were weirdly vague.

In different parts of the rooms, it was like a Picasso drawing come to life, just a little neater and more organized. At least I could tell it was furniture and decor for different sections of the house, yet, I couldn’t exactly describe what I was looking at. Some things looked like a chair, others like a lamp, maybe even some jewelry lying about, and other sorts of bathroom accessories like a towel or soap made sense here and there, but overall, when you looked at them altogether, the house was a huge enigma.

“Jennifer, why is everything so…” I began, trying to find the word.

“Disorganized? Jumbled?” she finished for me.

“Exactly.”

“So, remember what I told you, just like with the pictures, the hub can only render and replicate what it knows, or the best idea of what it ‘thinks’ it knows. What is it in your dream - I’m sorry, subconscious state - that looks disorienting to you?”

I let out a short burst laugh. “I wouldn’t exactly know how to describe it, you know? It’s so confusing to me.”

“Do things sort of look like, for example, like they’re pieces of furniture or specific objects, yet, they somehow don’t at the same time?”

Bingo. “Yeah, that’s exactly what it’s like. I don’t understand it, though.”

“Well, that’s what these studies are for, right? What you’re doing right now is a huge help to getting us to better understand how our subconscious minds continue to work in mysterious ways. It seems a common testimony in all the people who’ve participated report the same thing of not being able to completely interpret specific objects. It’s a known fact that over time, our brains will remember things much differently than how they actually occurred, and certain memories will slowly fade over the years.”

“So I can still remember the basic layout of the house, but not what was in it specifically?” I said.

“Mm-hmm. You got it. So… would you like to continue on to a different word?” I obliged. “Very well then. Just like before, when I say the word, you’re gonna close your eyes and just focus on every single thing you can related to that word alone. Ready?”

“Ready.”

“Okay… ‘summer’.”

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

I opened my eyes and was no longer inside. I was outdoors, the sky was clear blue, and it was bright and warm out. Looking down at my feet, I saw that I was standing on grass, and when I looked back up around me, in the distance there were fields of trees that led to deep woods. Not too far to my left lied a small timber bridge just over a tiny creek with a bed full of rocks. It had to be in some sort of park. A summer camp, maybe? Or just perhaps a regular community park I may have visited some time ago.

I walked around to try and see what other things might pop up to spark something inside. As I turned a corner around a field of tall bushes, the scene beyond abruptly changed to that of what looked to be the grounds of a fare or some sort of carnival. A carousel, stuffed prizes, empty concessions, and other sorts of festivities lined up. I remembered a place like this once, I thought.

I told Jennifer all of this, and we both began trying to dig for clues as to what this particular memory was about. However, this one was a lot easier than my Aunt Deborah’s house, since I actually can recall this day. Or, at least the fact that we showed up. The only other moments I can maybe remember having on this day were playing tag with some friends, strangers, or even cousins, and us throwing this small toy shovel at a couple of wasp nests just under the timber bridge I’d seen earlier, then running like hell later to escape their fury. Funny how that thought decided to resurface the longer I stayed here, just goes to show how big of assholes kids could be, and I was no exception. I could never imagine doing something so cruel nowadays.

“Hmm, looks like your mood changed a bit,” Jennifer pointed out, more than likely reading my vitals again from where she was. “You seem relaxed. And the parts of your brain that are lighting up more seem to indicate a sense of joy and happiness. Sounds about right?”

“I miss my childhood,” I replied. “Sometimes it’d be great to just relive a time where I didn’t have to be an adult, you know?”

“Oh, I hear you. Why don’t you say it louder for the people in the back.”

I chuckled. But then I stopped as a thought occurred to me.

“Speaking of which, is it normal to not see anybody at all?” I questioned. “In the hub, I mean?”

“Yes, it’s very normal. In very few cases, we’ve had some people report seeing long-lost family members or even some friends of theirs. When we talked about it after, all of them said that the people they saw in the hub had a strong relationship with them, which tells us that the stronger the bond we share with people in our lives, the longer we hold onto those memories, allowing us to paint a better picture of how they looked through the Cadacus.”

“I guess I don’t love anyone as much as I thought,” I dryly remarked.

“I’m sure that’s not true,” Jennifer said, knowing good and well that I was joking. “It’s gonna be different for everyone else. The words that another host or myself gives to you or others won’t come up with the same results, obviously because you all have different life experiences and memories unique to you.”

It was time to move on to a different ‘trigger word’, as Jennifer called them. Still wish she would’ve picked a different name for it, but I digress.

“Alright, you ready?” she started as usual.

“Ready when you are,” I replied.

“Good. Okay… ‘dandelion’.”

As before, I closed, then opened my eyes.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

I found myself standing in a vast lobby of some sort. There was some light, but very little to illuminate the entire space. The floor was a red-colored carpet, the same one you’d see in some movie theaters still. As I looked around at the barely visible walls, an artificial tree standing in a pot in the corner, and another obscure, jumbled rendering of an object that looked gold, I was beginning to think that I actually was in a theater.

I walked forward to explore, and found myself feeling, for the first time since I initially started, rather uneasy. But I didn’t know why…

The area was spacious, and from my perspective, the theater felt as if it could fit hundreds of people. I couldn’t tell if I had shrunk a little or if the design of the place was just that large, but everything felt so gigantic. Unnecessarily gigantic, I should add.

As I kept walking, in the distance I saw a faint shimmer of light grow more and more visible. With each step, I began to realize that it was an overlight, or a sort of spotlight, rather. Underneath the light was a random dinner table, perfectly arranged and set up for guests. But why here? It was so strange and out of place. Yet, I began to notice something else even stranger that I didn’t acknowledge until now. I didn’t hear Jennifer’s voice this time.

“Jennifer?” I called out.

No response. There was no hiding it now. I was nervous. Not just nervous that the Cadacus might have malfunctioned, but nervous because I was alone…

“Jennifer?” I called again.

Still nothing. That uncomfortable silence that filled the hub was louder than anything. I could hear my own heartbeat frantically pounding between my ears.

“Yes?” Jennifer’s voice called back to me. “Travis, can you hear me?”

It was an out-of-body experience to feel much-needed relief after nearly losing it, like being thrown in an icy pool of water just to be pulled back out and doused in warm water. Whether it was a simple mishap in the machine or not, it was fucked up.

“You had me worried there for a sec, Jennifer,” I spoke as I let out a breathy chuckle of relief.

“Yeah, that was kinda strange. Nothing seemed to show interference on my end… I’m not sure what happened. I was calling to you but I couldn’t hear anything back.”

And let’s add that to the list of ‘mistakes’ this test run was supposed to catch while we’re at it.

“Do you see anything interesting - well, I guess I should ask what do you see*?”*

I told her about the theater, at least it was what I thought to be a theater, as well as the obscurity of the dinner table. She of course tried to tie this back with the ‘theatrical’ theme I had going on in my subconscious mind, which I still thought might be a bit of a stretch. For now, she insisted that I kept exploring to see what else I could find that may explain things.

Near the end of the hallway, a door remained a jar, and a bit of a light projected from the room in a wedge shape. I’d have to keep walking further to see what was inside, but I couldn’t help but feel slightly more uneased. Something didn’t feel right about this place. None of the other ones gave me this same sensation.

I carefully stepped into the room with the open door, and was confused by what I saw. The scene had changed yet again, this time to what looked to be a party room of some sort. Long tables were aligned with chairs pushed in and spaced apart from each other. Plastic colored cups, paper plates, napkins, and birthday party hats were neatly stacked and perfectly organized along each row. The floor also had a retro-patterned carpet design like the ones I’d see in other theaters or arcades, making me feel like I was going to space.

The lighting in here was different as well. It was a dimly-lit blue ambiance, almost like a night light. I found it rather calming compared to the outside in the theater lobby.

Then from behind me, the deafening sound of the door slamming shut filled the room, and filled me with dread as I jumped.

“Travis, are you okay?” Jennifer’s voice sounded. “Your heartbeat’s escalating really fast. Is everything all right?”

I almost forgot how to breathe.

“I-I don’t know what just happened,” I stammered. “The door shut.”

“The door? What door?”

“The one to the party room. I’m inside the party room and the door just slammed. Am I alone? I-Is someone here with me?” I was panicking.

“Travis, remember what we discussed. You do not have to see anything scary if you don’t want to. You hear me? You do not have to be afraid. Just take a deep breath, close your eyes, and count to three, okay?”

That was the last thing I wanted to do. I wanted to yell at her to get me out of the damn thing. I was now getting the feeling that I maybe wasn’t alone after all in the hub. I hadn’t seen a single figure yet, and the first signs of anyone else being here with me began to seem more alarming than I once thought.

I closed my eyes and did what she said. I counted.

“1… 2… 3.”

I opened my eyes again, and this time, I was still in the party room, but the calming blue luminescence was now replaced with an unsettling crimson color instead. The place had turned into a red room. I didn’t tell Jennifer, but I hated the color red. It was a lot of people’s favorite color, but I never liked it. It made me feel sick, and now I was drowned by it.

I looked around and noticed other horrifying features of the room. Streaks of what I could only assume was blood were randomly plastered across different parts of the room. What kind of memory was this?

Anxiety returned. I found it hard to breathe yet again. I needed to get out of here.

“Jennifer, get me out!” I yelled. “You hear me? Jennifer, please get me out!”

This time, she didn’t respond. Fuck. It was malfunctioning again. This was not a good time to start fucking up now.

“Shit,” I muttered. “Shit, shit, shit…”

Panicked, I stood huddled in a corner of the room, not sure where to go, but definitely not wanting to leave myself exposed to whatever may be out there. I wasn’t sure how long I was going to be stuck here, maybe forever for all I knew. But right now wasn’t the time to think of any of that. I had to get the fuck away from this place. Whatever positive mental tricks Jennifer tried to preach clearly wasn’t working. I had to be brave, I told myself. It was just my own subconscious. I tried to tell myself that to give me some sort of comfort.

I crept over to the door with nothing to defend myself with. Jennifer wasn’t here to accompany me now. I was alone.

When I got to the door, I hesitated to place my hand on the knob. But I slowly raised and positioned it over, and was just about to grasp the knob until I realized something. There was now a window framed onto this door, unlike the first time…

I looked up, and right before my eyes, a child, a small boy, slammed his hands onto the window from the other side, screaming at the top of his lungs. To this day, I have yet to witness something as bone-chilling and hair-raising, and something so fear-inducing as to make me feel as if my own soul left my body.

I jumped back, so frightened that I fell to the floor. I kept my eyes fixed on the child, though, and he continued beating on the window, screaming for help. He was the first person I’d seen in the hub, and he was so real. So vivid. The fear in his eyes, the franticness… I wanted to help him.

But before I could do anything, something, or someone snatched him away and disappeared from the other side of the door.

“No!” I gasped.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Before I knew it, I was back in the lab room with Jennifer right next to me, frantically removing the Cadacus from off of me. The sterile whiteness of the room blinded me as she removed the headset from my eyes.