#I have a base for my office and another handset in the kitchen

[aradiiaa]

I recently got a new landline phone so I can use it for work and it makes me feel nostalgic so sometimes I catch myself using it to make calls instead of my cell phone like it’s 2005 again (even though I was too young for a cell phone at the time) djdkfjskjd

[chayacat]

Devil’s Sweet Star (5)

Fandom: Dead by Daylight

Ghostface x Female Reader  

Rated M for Violence, Language and Smut  

***

The days are the same and fortunately for you, no further attempted aggression has been committed on you. But it's not the police you have to thank for that, but just yourself. Because when you tried to file a complaint against your attacker, all the police were able to tell you was that there was nothing they could do. Because as you bear no stigma, no trace of blow ... there would be no point in filing a complaint. You sigh just by thinking about it, decidedly the mentality of some police officers will always surprise you. You really wonder what criteria they are recruited on.  

While you were serving a few clients, your gaze was slowly moving towards Jed, leaning over those drafts blackened by his pencil. God he’s beautiful when he is focused... something about him attracts you when he's in that state. But now is not the time to be lost in your thoughts! Let's stay professional first! you walk towards him a tea in hand that you lay on the table, bringing him out of his concentration. He gave you a smile, that angelic smile that could melt all hearts. We remain professional I said!

“I think it'll do you the greatest good, three coffees in a row could turn you into a ball of nerve. always immersed in your research about this ... Hoggins?” You said looking down to the papers.

“Yeah, I need to know a couple of things about him for this reception...so I could more easily slip into the crowd and rummage through his stuff without him noticing anything. Can you imagine if I find anything compromising about this story? This will create the biggest scandal this city... this state has never known.” he responds with some enthusiasm.

“You could also be killed so no one knows. That Hoggins is a very influent man. He could hire someone to kill you and your peers, like that bastard... Forget it. I can’t believe what the police told me... What are they waiting for? that I'm dying to act?”  

“This the reason why I rather fend for myself and solve problems in my own way. and that's what I plan to do with Mike. he thinks he can belittle me and hit me with impunity, he is seriously mistaken. I'll take the time it takes, but one day I'll give him back the blows he'll take from me.” He replies putting his glasses back.  

“Well, not so shy as I thought after all.”

“I am someone who interacts with people based on how they act with me. If they put me lower than earth ... I do the same.”  

He sipped his tea while putting a little order on the table. You can't help but look at his piercing blue eyes, so attractive, that's what makes all his charm, his major asset. When they stared at you, you feel your cheeks blush slightly and with a little embarrassed laugh, you get up and start heading to the counter ready to welcome new customers.

“You know...” Jed starts making you stop and turn to him. “I was thinking... that you could go with me to this reception. If I say you're with me, I don't think it's going to be a problem.” he said with a little smile.  

“What?? Me?? Jed I... It’s really nice of you but...I’m not a journalist and even less a girl from high society. I wouldn't feel like I belong there. And then I might embarrass you in your work...I don’t know if it’s a really good idea.” you answer putting a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Why not? I'm going to have a good night at this reception too. But knowing Melina and Mattew, they're going to go their own way and leave me alone lost in the middle of people I don't know. So, if I can share it with a friend... And chat with someone I like and know... I'd rather you came.”  

“Well...okay. Thanks Jed. I appreciate that you've thinking about me.”

The door opened and a woman entered the café. Given the outfit she was wearing, she was either working in the office or she was a businesswoman. But a horrible thrill pierced you when you saw in the distance Mc Kellan a smile on the corner. Whoever this woman is, this scumbag knows her for sure.

“Are you the owner of The Nebula?” said the woman by looking around her.

“Yes. Can I help you?” you answer a little worried.

“Let me introduce myself: Mrs Alice Milton. Hygiene inspector. Mr. Kellan has informed me that you are not complying with certain health measures and I am here to check. You don't mind, do you?

“No... Not at all.” you said, trying to stay calm.  

Mrs Milton began to do his inspection. She checked every table, every seat, every window. No object escaped his gaze. Then she went to the back shop to check the reserves and worktops. She wrote down two or three things on her notebook and went on.

You observe her, the fear in your stomach, trembling slightly to the simple fact that she could make fall the cleaver on you. You suddenly feel a hand resting on your shoulder, it was Jed's. He gave you a big smile to reassure you, calm your fears and make you understand that whatever she says, he will help you.

Mrs. Milton put away her belongings without saying a word, then left the café to go to McKellan. From the counter you could see them chatting, Mc Kellan didn't look happy and the young woman tried to calm him down. You'd like to be a pigeon or a fly to find out what they're telling each other.

Suddenly you see Mc Kellan driving away without Mrs. Milton. This one came back to the café but for some reason, you feel more comfortable...as if she were just becoming a customer like the others. And this was confirmed when she smiled at you, a reassuring smile, a friendly smile.  

“You can breathe now, he's gone. I'm sorry I did this with you. But I had to stay professional in front of him. You are not Horace's first victim. Can I?” She said, looking at Jed’s table.  

“Sure.” Jed simply said.

“You look like... not to appreciate him either.” you said while keeping your distance.

“Not really. Horace trusts very few people. He's a very selfish man. Who wants to impose his laws and his manners on everyone. and as soon as someone dares to oppose him... He's calling on me to ‘make the vermin flow’. As I said, you’re not the first one on his list, and you won’t be the last.”

“I have no doubt about that. Coffee?” you ask her before filling her a cup when she nodded. “What did you say to him? Outside.”

“That I found nothing. And as always, he was upset. I said I'll continue my search...But don’t worry I won't do anything. On the other hand, be careful, He’s not likely to give up so easily. And if he gets more upset, he'll make you killing and throwing in Dry Creek.”

Jed says nothing but Danny burns internally, if someone has the right to kill you...It’s him and ONLY him. That's one more reason to kill McKellan. This guy is not only dangerous for you, but for Danny's reputation. There can only be one killer here and Danny is not the type to share the scene. Danny has no choice. He has to get rid of Mc Kellan first. Mike can wait a bit.  

“What can I do?” you ask worried.  

“Do nothing toward him. Everything you do, he’ll turn it against you. And he’ll get what he wants. I suggest you to protect yourself. Or at least not to be alone in case he'll send you another assailant. Always have something to defend yourself. Or someone.” said Mrs Milton.

You nodded and after a few minutes of conversation, Mrs Milton leaves the coffee, wishing you good luck. You clean Jed's table, who was tidying up his belongings, getting ready to leave. He wrote something on a sheet which he handed you with a little smile. You tilt your head to the side, an eyebrow raised.

“My phone number, in case you’ll need something. Or just want to talk.” He said.  

“Jed come on...I can...” you start to answer before seeing he’s insisting. You sight, taking the sheet on your hand. “Fine...Thanks Jed. I’ll owe you one. More than one in fact.”

“I know you’ll help me someday. So, don’t worry. Oh and... I love your praline and coconut cake. A strange but very interesting mix.” he said before leaving, weaving his hand with that angelic smile on his face.

The rest of the day took place and it must be admitted that it was quite sporty. It's hard to handle so many people on your own. But until you have some financial stability, you can't hire someone at the moment. After your usual closing ritual, you go home. Next goal:  buys a pepper spray or a small knife, just in case.

You pick up your mail and go back to your apartment. What a relief to finally be at home. You put your belongings on the couch, the letters in a bowl dedicated to your mail and you head to the kitchen. Family's photos decorated some walls of the apartment reviving wonderful memories... But also, painful wounds. Homemade carbonara pasta for the evening will suit perfectly. it is rare that you take industrial products. As you put all the ingredients on the worktop, the phone rang.

Who can call you at this hour? You don't remember giving someone your landline number since you arrived. You ignore the call and go back to your business when it rang again. Someone's really trying to reach you. You take the handset of the phone determined to know who can call you at this time. Every time, it's a number error.

“Hello? Who’s on the phone?” you said.

“Oh. You're not my aunt. Sorry I got the wrong number.” respond the other person on the phone.  

Jackpot.

“It doesn't matter, it happens to everyone. Good night.” you replied as start to hang up.  

“Wait, wait!  Can... can we talk a little bit more? I never heard such a beautiful voice like yours before.”  

“Quite a charmer, are you? Well, if you want. if it can make you happy.” You answer with a little laugh.

“Thanks. It's rare for people who take the time to chat with strangers on the phone. Usually, they hang up immediately or never respond. Nice shirt by the way.”  

" well, it's usually rare to answer numbers that...” You start before realizing what he said last. “excuse me...What did you just say?”

“I said nice shirt. Purple suits you well.”

“H-how do you know that?”  

“... Raise your head.”

You gradually raise your head and face the building in front of yours. In the window that faced yours, you see him. A man with a white mask was there, tilting his head waving his hand to say hello.

“See me now?” He chuckles.

“Who the f*** are you ??” You respond even if you already know the answer.  

“What a lovely language...Well, I'm sure you already know the answer but if you insist. You can call me: Ghostface. I think I'm gonna call you...”

“what do you want?”

“Just talk. As I said, I never heard such a beautiful voice before...and never see such a pretty face like yours too.”

“call a prostitute if you want to chat, you freaking weirdo.” You replied ready to hang up.

“Tsk tsk. No no no my little star...if you hang up...you won’t see the sun rise tomorrow. Or your dear nerdy friend won’t see it.”

“Leave Jed alone! It’s between you and me! if you dare to touch him, I swear...” you say angrily before hearing him laugh.  

“Calm down my sweet little star... The truth is, I don't intend to touch him. It is thanks to him that I have acquired this beautiful but sinister reputation. He makes me the star of Roseville. We need each other. But let's talk about you. I must admit that I find it difficult to understand how such beauty as you live in such city. You must have a good reason.”

“It’s none of your business. I can ask you the same thing.”

“Well, I want to leave a trace in this miserable world. I want everyone remember my name. But for that I have to move across all the country. You know what? I'm going to let you live for now. But I advise you not to tell the police about our little conversation. It will pain me a lot to disfigure such a pretty face ... and a pretty body. And don't worry, we'll meet again. Good night my sweet little star... Have a beautiful dream.” He said chuckling before hanging up.  

You hang up the phone on the table and when you look back at the window, he was gone. Like a shadow in the night. You take a deep breathe, rubbing your face in your hands and sit on the sofa. Deep down, you felt that sooner or later you would face him. But not so quickly. Fortunately for you, he is not determined to make you a new victim of his macabre round. But for how long? you hope for as late as possible.

Unknowingly, my dear little star you fell into the spider's web. Without knowing it you have caught the attention of the devil.  

And that's just the beginning.

***

(Done! I'm glad to see you like it! And I hope it will continue! By the way I recently watched The Boy and discovered that dear Brahms~ And I must confess that he does not leave me indifferent. What a lovely British accent he has~ See ya! )  

[thehangeddemon]

Playing with Fire || Master Maxi || March, 1958

Maximus: Maximus hesitated just outside of the office. The day's mail stacked neatly on a silver tray, newly polished. He hovered only because of Xavier's stance, awaiting to be noticed.

Xavier: Xavier was rubbing his forehead and temples in rhythmic little circles, a distinct furrow to his brow that said the universe was sorely testing him this day.

It was when he leaned back in his chair to heave a great sigh that he noticed Maximus and some of that annoyance melted away. "How long have you been standing there?" he asked with an apologetic smile.

Maximus: "Long enough to know better." Only then would he enter, lowering enough for his master to inspect the tray. An invitation, news, bills. Maximus waited quietly for inspection of each letter being speaking.

"May I ask what is troubling you, m'lord?"

Xavier: He took the mail from the tray with a nod of thanks. Bills went in the To Do pile, the news in the To Read pile, and the invitation in front of him.

"I received a call from an associate of mine in Riyadh. He handles my exports from that part of the world and a few years ago I invested in his business. Ever since, he comes to me with any and all business ideas he comes up with hoping I'll invest."

Maximus: "Not very keen, m'lord?" Given the strain around his eyes, and the massage of his temples. As much as he wanted to ask about the invitation, he refrained, placing the tray under his arm.

"Will that be all?"

Xavier: "I was, once upon a time, when the ideas actually bore fruit and effort was put into ensuring so. Now the ideas become more harebrained with every passing year, but he never presents them that way." Xavier grabbed his letter opener. "He makes each one sound more grand than the last, never wants to take no for an answer. If I were alive he'd have taken years off my life by now."

He opened the invitation, scanned it briefly. "Speaking of grand."

Maximus: Maximus wondered what sort of ideas this man had, and silently tickled at the idea of Xavier's irritation with anything so far from serious. Something rather human to stir things.

"A party, this time of year?"

Xavier: "It would appear so. An exhibition of classical art to be followed by an auction. It's being hosted by Haskell, that insufferable bon vivant we met in Los Angeles. You know the one. Old, old money banker who sold me the chandelier in the drawing room some time ago."

Maximus: He remembered. The man had leather for skin, and glasses far too thick. The way he stared, as though right through and beyond. He didn't much care for him.

"Do you wish to accept?"

Xavier: Xavier sighed and considered for a moment. Did he want to endure an entire evening listening to that dandy boast and hold court?

"Not particularly." He smiled. "But I do wish to avail myself of the contents of Haskell's wine cellar."

Maximus: "You do enjoy playing with fire at every opportunity." Bold words for eyes submissive to the ground.

Xavier: He chuckled. "It's Haskell who's playing with fire by sending this invitation. He knows damn well he squeezed me for every cent he could for that chandelier. No doubt he's hoping I'll part with several hundred more of my dollars on this little auction of his."

Maximus: "May I ask what the auction is for? Does the invitation say?"

Xavier: The invitation was consulted. "He claimed the proceeds will benefit the hospital but that is a damnable lie. The hospital will see a fraction of the proceeds, if that, and the rest will go into Haskell's pocket. How do you think he's managed to afford that ridiculous mansion?"

Maximus: This made his butler frown. "I see. Then I will not waste energy encouraging your presence."

Xavier: He grinned. "Would you like to go to Los Angeles? We can steal Haskell's wine, give a bigger donation to the hospital to spite him, and go to the pictures. There's nothing quite like going to the pictures in Hollywood."

Maximus: "In all my years, I can't recall having ever been." And his first experience would be with Xavier. He very much liked the idea, but these were duty hours, so his smile was that of poise.

"You had me at donation, m'lord."

2:54 AM] Xavier: "Excellent!" Xavier took the RSVP card out of the envelope and reached for his pen to fill it out. "Please see that this gets returned and find me the name of the lowest quality vineyard in the state."

Maximus: "Yes, m'lord." The tray was lowered for the invitation's return. He didn't expect to see the fruits of this labor. Only to hear about the fruition of his schemes, and he looked forward to such tales.

"I would like to ask your opinion on something as well, if you have a moment to spare."

Xavier: "Please, by all means." Xavier was in considerably better spirits than he'd been a few minutes ago and it showed clearly in his expression in demeanor. All the annoyance had turned to warmth and welcome, and both were directed at the beautiful man before him.

Maximus: "I apologize for not inquiring sooner, but, do you have a preference towards wild game?"

Xavier: “I don’t favor any particular type but I’ve always enjoyed venison.”

Maximus: "Very good, m'lord. Will that be all?"

Xavier: "Yes, darling, thank you. Bring me the name of that vineyard as soon as possible, preferably before the party."

Maximus: The darling caught him off guard so early in the morning. He blinked, but offered nothing of his thoughts physically. A bow of obedience, and he turned from the room. Wild game, he decided, would be served for lunch. Something elegant, of course, but unusual. It was time for a split of body. Cooking, research, and to tend the garden.

Xavier: Xavier smiled at Maximus' retreating back until he was out of sight before turning his attention to the mail. What needed reading was read, what needed paying was paid, and a letter was written to a certain associate telling him in no uncertain terms that Xavier's patience for harebrained schemes had been completely exhausted.

He gathered everything up and went to put it with the rest of the mail. And maybe look for Maximus.

Maximus: One of those he sought was in the kitchen chopping carrots and celery. The usual mise en place accompanying a French inspired dish. Another duplicate with rolled sleeves visible from the kitchen window, tending the garden pulling weeds.

The real Maximus Fairchild was in his modest office. Research, as commanded, with the phone to his ear.

Xavier: Xavier smiled as he spotted each of his butler’s shadows, not surprised to see them. When Maximus had a pressing task he always preferred to attend to it personally, like the little project Xavier had given him.

The question now was, did he watch the shadow cooking or the one gardening?

A few moments to decide and he was stepping into the kitchen.

“Hello, my dear,” he greeted, taking a seat at the kitchen table. “Would you mind some company?”

Maximus: The duplicate looked up from his scrutinized knife. Almost the same man. Absent voice, but not expression. Free by a margin to smile as though off duty.

Maximus #2 pointed to a large bowl by the long sink. A skinned hare, fresh from market before Xavier opened his eyes that morning.

Xavier: “Such a beautiful smile,” he said, barely resisting the urge to kiss it before walking over to the sink.

“Ah, this explains the question about wild game. It appears we’re to have a very excellent lunch indeed.”

Maximus: Still as modest as the original. This Maximus paused, basked a moment in praise before pushing it aside with scolding eyes.

Xavier: Xavier laughed softly. “I’ll behave, you have my word. I’m simply here to observe. You’re miles more alluring than anything I have on my desk.”

Maximus: Even a mimicry with base faculties was enough of a truth to bristle at such flattery. He pointed in the direction of the office.

Xavier: “Very well, I’ll leave you to your work.” Beautiful shadow of my beautiful Maximus.

He tamped down another urge, this time to brush his lips against the shadow’s cheek, and went to knock on Maximus’ door.

1:10 PM] Maximus: The office was modest, despite encouragement of his master. Decorated with a framed original photograph of the estate on the east wall, and a portrait of a mother and child found in the attic on the east. Nothing personal. Despite budding intimacy, doubt lingered whether or not a Fairchild or Berti might be neatly displayed in the upcoming months, years.

Maximus looked up from a simple brown book, telephone handset returned as he stood.

"Yes, m'lord?"

Xavier: Xavier leaned against the doorframe and smiled softly. At Maximus, at the simple decor, at the phone and the book.

What he wanted to say was, we’ve been apart for an hour and I missed you. I feel...needy for your company today and I’m not quite sure why. I want you to set work aside for the day and come sit in my lap where I can kiss and hold you. I want you to smile at me, talk to me in your soft, gentle way. I want to see the blush on your cheeks when I compliment you. I want you to ask me for the moon and I want to get it for you. I want you to feel needy for me, too.

What he said was, “How is your search coming?”

Maximus: His butler could only decipher so much, but that long stare did something to his insides. The room was suddenly too warm.

"The list is nearly complete. Two more calls to make. A budding vineyard to the south gave interest to inquiry. I thought it might be worth your investment, or ill-considered to neglect informing you."

Xavier: He nodded, and tramped down his third urge in as many minutes. “That was good thought. A budding vineyard might be exactly what I’m looking for, or a worthy investment as you said.” Another nod. “Excellent work, thank you. I’ll leave you to it.”

Maximus: Where Maximus should have bowed his head and returned to his seat, he lingered.

"Is there something else I might do for you? Or... one of them?"

Xavier: Xavier shook his head. “No, thank you, I’m...I’m fine. I might take a short drive before lunch.”

Maximus: "As you so often remind me, I am more than your servant. I am your assistant. Allow me to be concerned for a moment, and serve you as my choosing."

Xavier: Maximus was offered another smile. “I’ll allow you, and I appreciate your concern. I suppose I’m simply in a restless mood this morning.”

Maximus: "Perhaps, instead of a drive... a walk?"

Xavier: “Perhaps that’s a better idea. Would you—?”

Maximus: "I would love to accompany you."

Xavier: He offered his arm. “Around the garden?”

Maximus: "I am off duty in the meantime?"

Xavier: Xavier nodded. “Yes. For the walk, and perhaps to join me for lunch?”

Maximus: Such proposal prevented the removal of his watch. Lunch was nowhere near finished; neither were monotonous chores worthy of his duplicates. His hand came away from his wrist.

"Delighted." His first undressed smile of the day.

Xavier: That smile made him feel like a drowning man being given breath again.

He returned it in kind. “Marvelous. Come, let’s get some fresh air.”

Maximus: Papers were quickly straightened. Pen used as a bookmark for the phone book and set aside. Off duty, he told himself. His own idea, he repeated. He didn't know what to do with his hands. A coat? Loosen his tie? Nothing seemed more appropriate than consistency.

"Just the garden?"

Xavier: “The garden, the grounds. Perhaps the woods. We’ll see where our feet carry us. It’s a lovely day; we ought to enjoy as much of it as we can.”

Maximus: Seemed fanciful, but as he'd come to learn, not so unlike this young demon.

No coat, only a change of shoes before holding the door. Some standards would not shake. The garden had expanded since winter. Herbs dominated much of the landscape leading to the house. Roses and shrubs lining the walk towards the various statues. Tomatoes and other less visually stimulating like were out of sight by design.

"If I were to ask you to spill your thoughts, would you?"

Xavier: It was as proper as an English garden could be. Tea roses, winding paths, statues, vegetables, a fountain. It was what the manor deserved after so many years of neglect.

“Just now I’m thinking what a beautiful job you’ve done out here.”

Maximus: Not what he'd expected, but he would take it. "These were your choices." For the most part. The flowers, with the exception of tenderly minded magnolias.

Xavier: "And you took those selections and created a garden worthy of the estate it surrounds. You should be very proud, Maximus."

Maximus: "That's the word I'm looking for," he smiled. "I'd like to hear more of your thoughts, if you'd allow me."

Xavier: "I'm also wondering how long it will take Haskell to realize his wine collection is worthless after I replace all the wine with whatever vineyard is chosen for the deception."

Maximus: "Rather than leaving his stock barren, your sense of humor is to replace with inferior. As you do artistic masterpieces."

Xavier: Xavier grinned. "Indeed. And like with artistic masterpieces, they will receive a better home and proper appreciation. Haskell, on the other hand, will be humiliated in front of those whose coattails he seeks to ride and will have an absolute conniption thinking he essentially tossed thousands of dollars down a hole."

Maximus: Is he really deserving of such punishment, he thought. He felt it best not to ask. Despite the careful distance their relationship had crossed, Xavier was still master. Trust was a fickle creature. It was of little concern; he didn't actually care.

"You spoke to my copies again today."

Xavier: This particular punishment was merely intended to knock Howard Haskell down a few pegs and back to where he rightfully belonged. There was nothing Xavier hated so much as hubris that hadn't been earned.

He nodded, smile still in place. "I did, yes. I always speak to them when I see them."

Maximus: "I'm not sure I understand your reasoning. They offer little." They were tools, nothing more in his belief, which made Xavier's insistence fascinating and confounding.

Xavier: "They offer more than meets the eye." More than once, talking to Maximus' shadows offered the chance to see that beautiful smile without a hint of reservation.

Maximus: He saw each and every one-sided conversation. With every broken spell, each memory of his duplicates became his own. What was once used as a torment, now became a source of entertainment.

"You could always speak to me, if you need an ear."

Xavier: His smile gentled. "Thank you," he said softly. "I sincerely appreciate it. I don't often find myself having that need, but when I do...thank you, Maximus. For the offer and...for walking with me."

Maximus: "It's less out of obligation than you might think."

Xavier: "At the risk of flattering myself, I don't think it's out of obligation at all."

Maximus: "You've taken a great risk. Haskell would be impressed."

Xavier: Xavier chuckled. "Haskell's risks aren't really risks. They're calculated to appear that way."

Maximus: "Yours are true?"

Xavier: He nodded. "There was a very good chance coming with me and lending me an ear was due to a sense of obligation."

Maximus: "We still walk that fine line of mystery."

Xavier: “We do indeed. And I take great risks and hope for the best.”

Maximus: "You risk believing there is no risk," he smiled.

Xavier: “Oh believe me, I could never. It’s always very present in my mind.”

Maximus: He wanted an elaboration, but would not ask.

"Are you feeling better now?"

Xavier: “Much better, yes. You’re a very great help.”

Maximus: "You're very generous as usual, Xavier."

Xavier: Hearing his name from Maximus’ lips brought a rush of such affection it was a wonder he didn’t pull the man into his arms without a second thought.

“It’s sincere. Talking to you makes my mind feel quieter, more calm.”

Maximus: "I'm...honored." But what he wanted to ask was why, and how, as he felt he offered nothing significant.

Xavier: Xavier turned to study his companion for a moment. “May I be so bold as to say you’re also...curious?”

Maximus: "I'm curious?"

1:57 AM] Xavier: “About why you calm my mind. It feels as though you want to ask me something.”

Maximus: You cannot read my mind, he reminded himself. "I have a readable face." This much was honest.

Xavier: “You do, but it’s more than that. We have a bond. We’re...in tune with each other.”

Maximus: "You think so?"

Xavier: “I do. I can feel it when I’m near you and when we’re apart, when we’re speaking or sitting in silence.”

Maximus: "That's perhaps the bond of servitude." A jest, but his smile was meek. One might regard as shy.

Xavier: Xavier simply returned the smile and offered Maximus his hand. It was fine if he didn’t take it; but Xavier felt the need to offer it.

Maximus: The hand was given a second of regard before taking. Not because this was his master, but because he wanted to. He wondered if Xavier truly understood.

Xavier: Perhaps Xavier could never fully understand, but he understood that this was a man who was rightfully cautious, who'd been hurt in unimaginable ways, and still accepted his hand.

He brought it to his lips and placed a delicate kiss on Maximus' knuckles.

Maximus: Maximus watched against his will. This was his hand being lovingly cared for, and those were Xavier's lips. There was no greater affection, and after months of such treatment, he was sure more than anything else that Xavier knew.

"It...smells like wood polish. Forgive me."

Xavier: “The wood polish you use smells like lemons. I’ve nothing to forgive.” He offered another kiss, this time to Maximus’ palm.

Maximus: Air demanded to leave his lungs in one warm escape. The emptiness felt at the bottom of his ribs made him feel more alive. Pain often did in the most unpleasant times, but in the moment, only made him more aware of Xavier's presence.

"How far shall we walk?"

Xavier: He was starting to get a decent gauge of the reverence and meaning this sort of affection had for Maximus. All the more reason for Xavier to offer as much as possible, when possible. "Perhaps to the edge of the estate and back? I was thinking that perhaps you'd like to have lunch in the garden. It really is a lovely day, it'd be a shame not to enjoy it as much as we can."

Maximus: Xavier was a painting. Spoke like a gentleman, poised, tailored like a gentleman, but months together he began to see the forgery. What was beneath was less impressionist and more abstract. At the moment it was lovely.

"Would stewed hare be inappropriate for a garden lunch? I'll see to an alteration. Something lighter."

Xavier: "We rule all that we survey, my dear." He smiled. "We get to decide what is appropriate. And from what preparations I could see in the kitchen, I'm very much looking forward to that stewed hare."

Maximus: "It is an hour until lunch. To the edge of the property and back?"

Xavier: Xavier nodded. "To the edge and back. Tell me, do you think there's a good spot for some sort of garden folly or a gazebo?"

Maximus: "Certainly. This small clearing here," he pointed where the sun intended to set, just shy of the woods. "It's away from the house, but not far from the garden. Leaves the expanse of the lawn to admire, without having to see the driveway."

Xavier: Xavier considered for a moment and nodded. "You're right," he said with a smile. "That's the perfect place for it. Although looking at it, a folly seems like a much better use of the space than a gazebo. Something that wisteria or perhaps star jasmine can climb."

Maximus: "I think jasmine is an excellent idea. I'll begin the necessary arrangements. There, you think?" He pointed to where the garden ended shy of the woods, a corner of sorts. Even still, despite the calm, he sometimes had to correct his speech. No 'm'lord' here. He wondered if he would ever accept Xavier's supposed intention.

Xavier: “Let’s get a closer look.”

Xavier led Maximus over to the spot, walking around and picturing the potential structure and how it would look from the windows.

“Yes, this is the perfect place. Stone and wrought iron, I think, something very intricate. I trust you to find the perfect craftspeople.”

Maximus: "You're certain of iron?"

Xavier: “I rather like the idea of the sun casting filigreed shadows on the stone beneath. Do you have another material in mind?”

Maximus: "I don't want you to burn yourself. If perhaps it were painted?"

Xavier: "Ah, yes, you're right. For both our sakes, we shall have the iron painted black."

Maximus: "Are you efficient with drawing? Something I could show a contractor."

Xavier: “Efficient enough to give a contractor a decent idea of what I’m looking for. I might have to peruse my library for some inspiration.”

Maximus: "Very good." M'lord. "Something that will feel as timeless as the estate itself. Perhaps a winding stone walkway?"

Xavier: “I do like the idea of a walkway leading up to the structure. Perhaps with ornamental plants surrounding it.”

Maximus: "I'll see to it as well."

Xavier: “What would you like to plant along the path?”

Maximus: Maximus looked up, considering the shade. "I'm no expert on the subject, but, I believe leaving color to the garden here," he pointed back, "leaves less competition for the eye. Ferns, or something equally lush. The very least, creeping thyme."

Xavier: "Some ferns would look rather nice. The thyme as well. We shall see which one suits better when we choose the stone for the walkway." He thought for a moment. "If memory serves, there's an excellent stone mason in Los Angeles."

Maximus: Maximus frowned but nodded. Eyes thoughtful. "If I may be so bold, I find myself confused every instance it seems my opinions are valued."

Xavier: Xavier offered a smile. “Is it still so foreign after we’ve set this house to rights together?”

Maximus: "I've been made to do many things by various masters, but never trusted with an estate."

Xavier: “I trust you implicitly with this estate, Maximus. Not to mention my meals and my wardrobe.”

Maximus: "I couldn't poison your food if I wanted to," he smiled.

Xavier: “With your cooking? It’d be worth it.”

Maximus: "Your praise borders on cloying, Master Xavier."

Xavier: He chuckled. “I’d apologize if I didn’t think very highly of your cooking. And you know I’m a man who appreciates good food.”

Maximus: "I don't expect apologies when your words hold meaning to you."

Xavier: "They do." He found himself kissing Maximus' hand again. "I sincerely appreciate and value your opinions. Your input is something I treasure."

Maximus: Their pace slowed as Xavier indulged himself. Moments like this, words were too elusive to pluck from the air. Just emotion. Enticed by self-imposed mystery, but stayed by caution. Rarely was something hidden behind his eyes, but Maximus expected something. He would be foolish not to.

Flowery words, he told himself. Flattery from a charming demon. He should have been made at the crossroads.

"I'm honored."

Xavier: Perhaps he would be foolish not to, but the only thing behind Xavier's eyes was affection. Sincere, abiding affection.

"And I'm honored that you feel comfortable enough to give your input, even if it confuses you when it's taken to heart."

Maximus: He didn't want to spoil things by saying refusal was smaller than a crawlspace. Instead, he smiled, content to his silence and what his expression could offer.

Xavier: As staying on this subject would only serve to make Maximus uncomfortable, Xavier chose to move on for now.

"This is going to look lovely when it's finished. As will the road to the house when the wildflowers bloom."

Maximus: "You're in favor of a manicured lawn, or would you be interested in ground cover flowers?"

Xavier: "I'm in favor of both, though both have their place. I quite like the lawn surrounding the estate but lawn looks out of place on the roadside."

Maximus: "Very French," he smiled. "I agree, both have their place. I'm in favor of the backyard being as lush as we intend."

Xavier: “It will be when we’re done with it, we’ll put Versailles to shame. I rather like the idea of having a couple more statutes as well.”

Maximus: "There is enough space for a hedge maze as well, if your desire is a statement."

Xavier: “It’s tempting,” he chuckled. “But the sight of the woods beyond the garden is impossible to give up. Although some hedges would look nice bordering the drive.”

Maximus: "We could begin the drive with an iron gate, line the drive with hedges or perhaps roses. Something to withstand the drastic seasons."

Xavier: Xavier pictured the final result and smiled. “Perfect. This estate will be grand in every sense of the phrase.”

Maximus: "And when... we have finished, do you intend to throw a grand party celebrating your success?"

Xavier: "This wouldn't be much of a sanctuary if I did that. Perhaps we could have Massimo and his family for dinner. I only trust him with the location of this house."

Maximus: This surprised his servant, studying his profile as they slowly walked, curious what in particular made this home a sanctuary. What was intended for this house.

"I see. Something in New York, perhaps. You should celebrate your achievement."

Xavier: Xavier smiled. “A more private celebration seems more appealing, although perhaps that’s the hermit in me. I always manage to wander off on my own at parties.”

Maximus: "More business deals, wine and beautiful people."

Xavier: You’re the only beautiful people I need, Xavier thought to himself.

“Deals aren’t quite enticing enough for a celebration. Are you opposed to a small dinner party with Massimo’s family?”

Maximus: "I will serve whomever you choose to bring," Maximus said, watching the woods towards the abandoned house.

Xavier: "Perhaps we can also invite my staff at the warehouse. Everyone has been thoroughly vetted and I trust them all. They're good people."

Maximus: "If they can make the travel," he felt the need to point out.

Xavier: “Easily taken care of. I can make travel arrangements for them.”

Maximus: "Very elaborate. I believe my spell will be in order."

Xavier: "Or, there is an alternative."

9:22 PM] Maximus: Maximus slowed and studied the man by his side, curious but unwilling to guess.

Xavier: “We could hire waitstaff for the evening, which would allow you to enjoy the celebration freely.”

Maximus: "Would that not be seen as inappropriate of your assistant to dine as equal?"

Xavier: “Massimo is incredibly fond of you and my employees wouldn’t dare cause such offense.”

Maximus: "I don't believe they would dare such disrespect to you in person, but perhaps it is not in good taste." He watched Xavier a moment. "If I may be so bold to speak my mind this way."

Xavier: Xavier smiled. "Of course you may. And if you truly do not wish to attend a celebration as a guest, you don't have to. I only ask that if you decide against it, it be because you truly wish to attend in your capacity as butler."

Maximus: "I think it's the most appropriate road in which to walk... in public." Their relationship was still so young. Still too soon to openly reveal anything more than professionalism. It was safe.

Xavier: "As you wish, my dear." It didn't feel right to take sole credit for the complete transformation of the estate, but it would feel worse to push Maximus in a way he wasn't ready for.

"It will be a small celebration but grand nonetheless."

Maximus: Finally, he could breathe. For a moment he was concerned, but Xavier's response was as consistent as day one.

"I look forward to assisting in its assembly."

Xavier: "You'll be instrumental in its success. That being said, would you like me to hire waitstaff to assist you for the evening?"

Maximus: "Hire, or borrow from another?"

Xavier: "Hire and thoroughly vet."

Maximus: "By your will. Eight hands are better than six."

Xavier: "Anything at all you need when the time comes, please ask. No expense will be spared."

Maximus: "I wouldn't insult your celebration by offering cheap wine," he smiled.

Xavier: "You couldn't insult my celebration, full stop. Outwardly it might be mine, but privately, it's ours."

Maximus: "That's very kind," said Maximus. He would have worried for repeating himself if not for being so relaxed. Too eased, his equals might argue.

Silence would be sensible for several meters.

Xavier: Xavier didn't mind the silence. During his time with Maximus, he'd come to recognize the different types he affected at different moments. Some silences were companionable, some filled with work and distractions, and others, like this one, affected when there was a fear that too much had been shared. Not always in words, but in manner.

It almost came as a surprise when they reached the edge of the property. Xavier hadn't realized he'd been lost in thought. "Ready to head back, darling?"

Maximus: Seemed the moment had passed. For now. He wouldn't linger on what he had felt and why. Not here in his master's presence.

"I will see to lunch, prep for dining outside, if the idea still appeals."

Xavier: "It does," he said with a nod, sighing contentedly. "I shall go down to the cellar and select a good wine to accompany our meal. All game requires a fine wine."

Maximus: He would dare offer a suggestion. "A bold red, perhaps?"

Xavier: Xavier beamed in approval. "Precisely what I was thinking. We shall lunch like royalty today, my dear."

Maximus: "If there is anything one of my shadows can assist you with, please. You will be quite bored observing my assemblage of lunch."

Xavier: "Actually, now that we're going to be coming into a great deal of wine, some reorganization of the cellar is in order. I'd like to see how much spare room we have."

Maximus: "It is one of the last areas of the house left virtually untouched." He wanted to be there to assist, but preparing the table outside yielded a more intimate future.

Xavier: "And a significant project because of it. I will take one of your shadows down to get a proper lay of the land and we shall discuss over lunch."

Maximus: I shall see you then, he thought, offering nothing more in response than a gentle smile.

Xavier: Xavier was going to take that smile as approval of the plan, and give one in return.

“Very well, my dear. I’ll be down in the cellar. May I kiss your hand again, before you return to duty?”

Maximus: "Am I to return to duty before lunch?" Asked carefully. A timid offering of what could be.

Xavier: He had put forth a great deal of effort to keep his face from smiling too excitedly. Such a careful question could only be met with gentleness.

“I think not,” Xavier murmured. “After lunch will be quite soon enough.”

Maximus: His smile was not quite what Xavier felt. Bedded down as forcefully as Xavier's efforts. "As you wish."

Xavier: “In that case...” He turned to fully face Maximus. “May I kiss you, darling?”

Maximus: He dared look his master in the eyes. There was no harm here. Those eyes, as they had always been, were a safe place.

"You may," said softly.

Xavier: Those eyes were brimming with affection as Xavier gently cradled Maxmius’ face and leaned in to kiss him like he’d wanted to do all day. Feeling and tasting this beautiful man was like satisfying a craving.

Maximus: Every kiss felt the same. Something less than fear and more than elation. Trust deserved but fragile. His lips felt impossibly warm, and he welcomed them with an inaudible sigh. His hands didn't know what to do, other than remain useless at his sides.

Xavier: Xavier could only hope that the day would come when Maximus felt comfortable enough to reach for him, to touch him as much and as long as he wanted without a second thought. He could only hope that someday Maximus would feel comfortable enough to do a lot of things.

Until then Xavier was more than happy to take the lead. They were dancing the world's gentlest, most deliberate waltz, each move fraught with meaning. Each kiss he was allowed was treasured. He took only a little bit at a time, savoring before coming back for more. Never pushing, never demanding.

"Beautiful," he whispered, caressing Maximus' face.

Maximus: Like a dream he was sure wakefulness would steal with cold hateful hands. He was certain this was false. Not any moment, but someday. For now he could lean into the strength of Xavier's stance and welcome his warm merciful hands. Offer a deepening of his affections as his master-in-name caressed his pale face. Reach timidly to place his hand over Xavier's in solidarity.

Xavier: There had been moments when they first began this delicate relationship where Xavier had wondered if he had the strength of will to be gentle, to tamp down his desires and keep from take, take, taking. But he'd soon discovered that when it came to Maximus Fairchild, being gentle was the easiest thing in the world. It came as easy as breathing, and Xavier had slowly begun to realize that the only thing he had to tamp down was the urge to bombard Maximus with his affection a thousand times a day.

He had his moments, of course, he was only human--or had been at one point. But this here? That little touch, the subtle deepening of a kiss? Fuck, it was what he lived for.

Beautiful, he thought again, letting himself stretch the kiss a few more long, lingering moments before regrettably pulling away.

Maximus: Parting had become a bittersweet endeavor. He realized in this moment, taking a step back from Xavier's handsome figure, that their relationship was akin to an arranged marriage, more than that of master and slave. He would rather believe that than the truth. Wondered if in some measure Xavier felt the same. A fantasy which would live in his head as comfort, until the day it would no longer provide sustenance.

"A shadow will be with you shortly."

Xavier: He had to allow himself one final stroke of Maximus' cheek. Just a single one to sustain him until they sat down to eat.

"Very well," he said softly, smiling as he let his hands fall away. "I'll await them down in the cellar." And select one of his best bottles for their meal.

With that fond smile still lighting his face, Xavier started back toward the house.

[vfdarkness]

Lost Constellation - pilot

What follows is the pilot script for another audiodrama I’ve been working on. I wrote the initial draft of this about the same time as episode one of A Voice From Darkness. The elevator pitch is it’s Twin Peaks inside The Overlook Hotel. Besides giving you that, I’ll let you experience it blind. Enjoy! 

TEASER

We hear a dial-up modem connection.

Partway in, as the static enters, underneath it, a swarm of wasps fades in.

THE SWARM isn't natural. It's how wasps sound in a nightmare.

The Swarm overtakes the dial-up static and tones. It pervades our ears. Then:

SILENCE.

We hear the last few seconds of the modem connection made.

It fades out.

As it does, for a half-second a wasp buzzes through our ears.

INTRO MUSIC

ACT 1

INT. URSA MINOR DINER - DAY

Customers make small talk as they eat.

A register dings open. Change is made. The register is shut.

ALLISON WENDT (20s) stands behind the counter.

ALLISON

Thanks for coming to The Ursa Minor. Hope you beat the blizzard.

The door opens and closes. A door chime lets us know.

Allison grabs a coffee pot off the burner.

Footsteps.

Coffee is poured into a mug.

TRAVIS BYERS (50s) sits at the counter.

TRAVIS

I need at least two refills of that coffee of yours every morning, Allison. Ha.

ALLISON

You're not sitting in your usual spot, Travis.

TRAVIS

No, guess I'm not.

ALLISON

It's empty. Been empty all morning. Any reason you didn't sit in your back corner booth? That's prime real estate in most diners.

TRAVIS

Thought I'd see if the eggs tasted any different at the counter. That's all.

ALLISON

You order the same thing everyday.

TRAVIS

I like what I like.

ALLISON

You read the newspaper everyday - each section in the same order front page, sports, entertainment, comics, local. Everyday.

TRAVIS

Not always. Sundays I read the comics after the front page. But what's your point?

ALLISON

You're a man of habit. And you changed something today. I think there's a reason. I'd like to know what that is.

TRAVIS

Something wrong with me sitting at the counter?

A beat.

ALLISON

Do you ever remember your dreams?

TRAVIS

I don't want to talk about dreams. I want to drink my coffee and read my paper.

A beat.

ALLISON

You just finished the sports section. Time for entertainment. Unless you're changing that up too. 

Enjoy your coffee.

Allison walks away.

INT. CAR - DAY

We hear a car driving on a snowy interstate road. Wiper blades slowly knock the slush from the windshield.

Periodically other cars are heard in passing.

Driving is SPECIAL AGENT MICHAEL RIDLEY (30S).

The RECORD button of a microcassette tape recorder is pressed. There's an audible hiss from the tape.

RIDLEY

(into recorder)

Starting a fresh tape as I begin the Alaskan leg of the investigation. The date is September 26th, 1995. 3:13pm, Alaska Daylight Time. 

A beat.

RIDLEY

It’s snowing. Coming down hard. I knew that was likely before I got on the plane up here. But if the post office doesn’t stop delivering: “Neither snow, nor rain…” how could an honest man of the Bureau not search for a missing girl under those same conditions? Still... If I don’t find Kimberly Dalton in the next several hours, I’ll need to make accommodations.

A beat.

RIDLEY

I'm nearing Constellation, Alaska. Strange town. I don't mean to be judgmental, but it undoubtedly is. The entire community exists within a single building The-

Ridley flips through a notepad on his passenger seat.

RIDLEY

Randsa Tower. A fourteen-story ex-naval base, according to the clerk at the gas station. I had to have him explain what he meant - the whole town existing in a single building. He meant exactly that. Doctors' offices, a diner, grocery store, taverns, church - you heard that right, taverns plural, church singular - all of  it under one roof in the Randsa Tower - Constellation- both. You can be born, live your life, and die without ever stepping foot outside the building.

A beat.

RIDLEY

I guess that's no different than any other town in many respects. Wonder if they have a graveyard somewhere in the building. If I get in good with any of the locals I might ask.

A beat.

RIDLEY

Still a mystery is what Kimberly Dalton saw on the world wide web that brought her all the way here.

The tape hiss continues until Ridley hits the STOP button.

SEGUE MUSIC

INT. RANDSA TOWER QUARTERDECK - DAY

We hear Ridley's footsteps walk up to a receptionist desk.

Sitting at the desk is RADIOMAN FIRST CLASS (RM1) SEAN DWYER (30S). He plays with a three-dimensional puzzle that's much like a Rubik's Cube. But not.

As Ridley approaches, Dwyer twists his puzzle.

RIDLEY

Excuse me.

The cube twisting continues.

RIDLEY

(louder)

Excuse me - Could you stop playing with that puzzle-toy for a moment.

The twisting stops.

DWYER

(petulant)

Can I help you?

Ridley pulls out his wallet and flips it open.

RIDLEY

Special Agent Michael Ridley, FBI. I tried calling ahead but couldn't get through. I'm looking for a runaway teenage girl from St Louis. You the town... receptionist?

DWYER

RM1 Dwyer. Navy. I'm the Petty Officer of the Watch. You, Special Agent Ridley, are standing at the Quarterdeck of this command.

RIDLEY

Quarterdeck? For a building? You call the windows portholes too?

Dwyer doesn't laugh.

RIDLEY

This is still a naval base? Guy at the gas station told me it got de-commed in the 80s.

DWYER

(laughs)

You get all your military intel from gas station clerks? Some floors are navy-occupied.

RIDLEY

Which floors?

DWYER

That's classified.

RIDLEY

What if I go to one of those floors on accident?

DWYER

Well, don't do that.

RIDLEY

How will I know unless you tell me which floors I can and cannot traverse?

DWYER

I mean, if you just - if you - go to... Just try to avoid...

RIDLEY

Listen, Petty Officer, I'd like to find my runaway before we're snowed in here. Help me out, will you?

Dwyer sighs. We hear him pick up the handset of a phone and dials a rotary.

RIDLEY

Are you-

DWYER

I'm getting one of my guys down here to escort you up to the Sheriff's office.

Faintly, we hear a phone ring through the receiver.

DWYER

(to Ridley, tour guide mode)

Constellation is named after one of the six original frigates that-

DWYER

(into phone)

Bogues? Get down here.

Complaining-sounding muttering from the phone receiver.

DWYER

I don't care if you're not on watch. You were dumb enough to answer the phone. Get down here. I need you to escort someone.

More muttering at the other end.

RIDLEY

What floor's the sheriff on?

DWYER

Seventh.

RIDLEY

Tell your guy not to bother. I'll find it on my own, thanks.

Ridley's footsteps move away from the Quarterdeck.

Dwyer hangs up the phone.

The sound of a cube turning resumes.

ACT II

INT. URSA MINOR DINER - DAY

The Swarm fades in. It builds to a crescendo.

Then cuts to diner ambiance.

DEVIN GRANT (19) flips a page in his comic book.

The double doors separating the kitchen and diner swing open.

DEVIN

Hey Allison.

ALLISON

Devin. You're not in uniform. You off today?

DEVIN

No duty for me.

ALLISON

Lucky. Looked like a lot of your fellow sailors were busy battening down the hatches for this blizzard.

DEVIN

Yeah, I gotta miss all that. And mom sent me a care package.

ALLISON

Comics?

DEVIN

And Good & Plentys. You want some?

Devin shakes a box of candy.

ALLISON

Devin, I'm giving one last warning - if you ever offer me that awful lie that calls itself a candy again - you'll be banned from this establishment. Forever.

DEVIN

More for me.

A beat.

DEVIN

I ran into Martha Davidson earlier. She said she ate breakfast here this morning.

ALLISON

Yep. Her and her husband.

DEVIN

She said she heard you arguing with Travis Byers about something. What was it?

ALLISON

It's nothing. Don't worry about it.

DEVIN

Come on. You gotta tell me.

(whispers)

You went Jean Grey on him, didn't you? You read his mind and saw something weeeiiird.

ALLISON

I told you not to call me that.

DEVIN

(rationalizing)

Sorry, it's just-

ALLISON

It's nothing like that. That's not how it works.

DEVIN

(genuine)

Sorry.

A beat.

ALLISON

So did you want to order real food or keep eating that garbage candy of yours?

DEVIN

Yeah, can I order something to go? I promised someone I'd bring them something.

The Swarm abruptly comes back in. It builds. Then:

SILENCE.

INT. ELEVATOR - DAY

The elevator doors close. A button is pressed.

Ridley turns his microcassette recorder on. We hear the hiss of the tape.

RIDLEY

(into recorder)

5:48pm Alaska Daylight Time. The sheriff's office was empty. There was a note on the door that read: Back Sometime.

The elevator moves.

RIDLEY

While talking to RM1 Dwyer earlier, across the lobby, I saw a neon sign for The Ursa Minor Diner. In Constellation. Cute. My intention now is to grab a meal, question the staff to see if any have seen Kimberly Dalton, and then ask about getting a room. I was maybe too optimistic in thinking I'd find Miss Dalton and we'd leave before the blizzard hit.

The elevator unexpectedly stops.

We hear the lights flicker.

The Swarm fades in, but is just barely present in the background.

It fades out after a few moments.

RIDLEY

Not sure what just happened. I believe the elevator stopped.

The elevator moves again.

RIDLEY

Had me worried for a moment. Thought maybe it'd lost power.

The elevator doors open.

A beat.

RIDLEY

I'm not sure what floor I'm on, but it's not the lobby.

Ridley presses the Lobby button again.

Nothing happens.

He presses it several times.

RIDLEY

The elevator appears stuck.

He waits. All we hear is the hiss of his tape recorder.

Ridley impatiently sighs.

We hear his footsteps.

RIDLEY

I'll have to find the stairwell.

Footsteps.

SEGUE MUSIC

INT. URSA MINOR DINER - NIGHT

Diner ambiance.

The phone rings.

Footsteps.

The phone is picked up.

ALLISON

Ursa Minor, this is Allison.

DWYER

(through phone)

Will you bring me a piece of pie? Please. And thank-you.

ALLISON

Who is this?

DWYER

It's Dwyer. Over at the Quarterdeck. I'm waving at you.

ALLISON

Yeah, I see you. What kind?

DWYER

Cherry, please.

SEGUE MUSIC

INT. HALLWAY - NIGHT

We hear Ridley walking and the hiss of his microcassette tape recorder.

RIDLEY

(into recorder)

The floor I'm on - there's low wattage light bulbs in candelabras on either side of the hall. Doors on either side. All numbered.

Ridley knocks on a door.

RIDLEY

Anyone home?

Some footsteps, then another knock.

RIDLEY

Anyone here?

Quiet except for the tape hiss.

We hear his footsteps as he continues down the hall.

RIDLEY

I'm not sure how many live in Constellation. Whole floors could be abandoned. I've lost count of all the doors I've knocked on. I haven't seen a single EXIT sign that might direct me to a stairwell. I believe that's an OSHA - and National Fire Protection Association - requirement. When possible, I'll register a complaint to the building supervisor.

A beat.

We hear the sound of the puzzle Dwyer was playing with on the Quarterdeck.

Ridley is startled - we hear him exhale and jump back.

RIDLEY

Where did you come from?

The sound of the puzzle shifting continues for a moment. THE GIRL does not answer at first.

THE GIRL

I was here before you.

RIDLEY

I saw the petty officer on the quarterdeck playing with one of those toys. Puzzles? Whatever it is.

THE GIRL

A Primordial.

RIDLEY

What?

THE GIRL

A Primordial. Admiral Parsons designed it. To see which of us are in tune and which are not. Would you like to try it, Michael?

RIDLEY

How'd you know my name?

THE GIRL

I'm sorry. Should I call you Special Agent? Was it rude of me to call you by your first name? Have we met yet?

RIDLEY

No... No- we haven't.

THE GIRL

I saw her. You told me to keep an eye out for her. She's looking for The Door. I told her not to go through it. Not to look for it. If she does - she'll draw attention to this tower.

RIDLEY

Who? Who did you see?

THE GIRL

The girl you told me to keep an eye out for.

RIDLEY

Kimberly Dalton?

THE GIRL

She solved The Primordial in several seconds. Faster than anyone in my class can.

RIDLEY

Where is she?

THE GIRL

Who?

RIDLEY

Kimberly Dalton?

THE GIRL

I don't know who that is.

RIDLEY

You just said you saw her.

THE GIRL

Who?

RIDLEY

Are you playing games with me? You told me I told you to keep an eye out for Kimberly Dalton and then you said you saw her. We never had that conversation.

THE GIRL

But we did. Just now. Didn't we? You just told me to keep an eye out for Kimberly Dalton. And I will.

The sound of the puzzle shifting stops.

THE GIRL

(scared)

I need to go now.

RIDLEY

Wait - how do I get back to the lobby?

A door slams down the hall. Then another. And another.

RIDLEY

What is that? Who's there?

The sound of THE SWARM is faint in the distance.

RIDLEY

Where'd she go? Young girl?

He tries the nearest doorknob. And other. Both locked.

RIDLEY

She disappeared.

The Swarm raises and fades out.

INT. RANDSA TOWER QUARTERDECK - NIGHT

Quarterdeck ambiance.

DWYER

RM3 Grant get over here!

A beat.

DWYER

RM3 Grant! - Devin! - Get over here.

Footsteps.

DEVIN

RM1, what's up?

DWYER

You see an FBI Agent wandering around?

DEVIN

FBI? What're they doing here?

DWYER

That's classified. Just... I haven't seen him in a few hours. The blizzard's really coming down now. Kinda worried he and the girl he's looking for might be stuck here awhile.

DEVIN

Girl?

Dwyer realizes he shared something maybe he shouldn't have.

DWYER

That's classified.

SEGUE MUSIC.

ACT III

INT. HALLWAY - NIGHT

Footsteps. We hear the hiss of Ridley's tape recorder.

RIDLEY

(into recorder)

I've just turned the corner. Still not sure where the girl I was speaking to went. Still no clear exit. Dead end up ahead, but one of the doors is cracked open. A green light is emitting from the space.

He walks down the hall.

Knocks.

RIDLEY

Hello? Door's open. Anyone here?

In the distance we hear The Swarm.

The door creaks as Ridley opens it. He steps inside.

The Swarm fades back as he enters the apartment.

INT. URSA MINOR DINER - NIGHT

Diner ambiance.

ALLISON

Travis, you're back for dinner.

TRAVIS

I am.

ALLISON

Back at the counter again too.

TRAVIS

Let's not get into this again.

ALLISON

Sorry. And sorry for this morning.

TRAVIS

All water under the bridge.

ALLISON

This morning I was having the worst case of Deja Vu. You ever get that?

TRAVIS

Oh yeah. Doesn't everybody?

ALLISON

Maybe it wasn't Deja Vu exactly. It was a dream I had. Do you ever remember your dreams?

A beat.

TRAVIS

No. Not normally.

ALLISON

I do. Really well. You were in a dream of mine last night. You want to hear it?

Travis doesn't reply.

The diner ambiance fades out as Allison describes her dream.

Dream ambiance replaces it.

ALLISON

I was standing here. But you were over there. Sitting in your corner booth. Like you normally are. The diner - it wasn't the same. The windows that face out into the lobby. And the ones that look outside - they were all black. And it was dark in here too. But I could see you sitting in your booth. You weren't alone. There was a man with you. He leaned across the table and whispered in your ear. He placed an object into your palm, and you squeezed your hand shut. You became two people. One of you got up and walked out into the darkness that'd overtaken the lobby. Walked right past me. I tried to talk - to stop you. But I had no voice. I turned my attention back to the you in your booth: What did he say to you? What did he place in your palm? I wondered. In my dream. I was holding a coffee pot.

Without thinking I walked toward you - the you still in the booth - you and this man you were with. Maybe to give you some dream coffee. When I got closer, I saw it wasn't a man with you. It was a bunch of tiny ugly squirming things. Creatures. Insects. I don't know what they were but they were. Were-

TRAVIS

Swarming. They were swarming.

ALLISON

Swarming. That's the word. They were swarming together to form this- this perverse simulacrum of a man.

A beat.

ALLISON

What did it whisper, Travis? Where is the other you?

CUTAWAY SOUND

INT. ABANDONED APARTMENT - CONTINUOUS

RIDLEY

I don't mean to intrude - if anyone's here - but I'm a bit lost.

A beat.

RIDLEY

(into recorder)

There's no one here. I don't think this space has been occupied in some time. The greenlight - there's a computer terminal. It's an older system - I'd place it somewhere from the early 80s. It's flashing trivia questions across the screen - What's the capital of Idaho? Who was the eighth president? What year was The Great Gatsby published? There's a stack of reference books next to the keyboard. Encyclopedia volumes, an almanac. Atlas.

The door creaks.

RIDLEY

(away from the recorder)

Hello? Someone there?

The Swarm enters, but it cuts out. And is replaced by:

A man sobbing.

RIDLEY

Sir, I need to ask you to put the gun down.

TRAVIS

(sobbing)

I can't. I want to but I can't. It's making me...

RIDLEY

What's making you?

TRAVIS

I was in the diner - in the dark - and I was sent here. To give you a message. You need to listen.

CUTAWAY SOUND

INT. URSA MINOR DINER - CONTINUOUS

Diner ambiance.

TRAVIS

It's like you said, Allison. Deja Vu. I didn't remember this morning when I sat at the counter. Something about the back booth set me on edge though, but I didn't know what. I remember now. I remember it all. You want to know what The Swarm whispered to me?

Everything that Travis says next - his voice is doubled - as there's two versions of him delivering the message.

Under his words is a subtle but unsettling ambient sound.

TRAVIS

The star that guides you is black./ There is no sky.

There is no light./ You are shipbuilders, you are thieves./ Who only travel in the night./ In my home, there were unopened doors./ But you beat them down./ You left differently than you came./ Did you know?/ I'd never seen a blade of grass. A river snail. A desert tower./ Memories. Mirrors. And dreams./ I speak those tongues, perhaps more./ But I have no words to convey my hatred for your trespassing./ So I invent my own.

INT. ABANDONED APARTMENT - CONTINUOUS

Gunshot.

Body falls to the floor.

RIDLEY

Oh no. No.

(into recorder)

This man... I'm not sure how much the recorder captured, but this man came in with a gun to his head. He spoke - delivered a message. And he shot himself. The message he delivered...

A beat.

RIDLEY

I think this is going to be the Summer of '91 all over again.

Ridley presses STOP on his tape recorder.

INT. URSA MINOR DINER - CONTINUOUS

Diner ambiance.

TRAVIS

Asked and answered, Allison. Asked and answered. That is what was whispered to me in our dream. And now that dream is over.

We hear Travis disappear.

ALLISON

What does any of that mean? Travis?

(shouts)

Travis!?

A beat.

ALLISON

He's gone.

Customers continue to eat and make small talk.

A wasp buzzes in our ears for a split second.

OUTRO MUSIC