The Void's Omen

[Tape clicks on]

[There’s a low groan as something thud against the ground.]

Lazarus: That bastard. Ugh, damn, my head is killing me. What are the chances there are pain killers anywhere in this—

[The faint sound of static grows. There are no footsteps, but it’s clear whatever it making such a shrill sound is getting closer.]

Alden! Where— ah, goddamnit!

[The sound of Lazarus sitting on the floor is clear. His breathing is short and shallow.]

My leg hurts. And my head is killing me. Christ!

[There’s a sharp sound as he manages to grab the tape recorder. Just as he does, the door swings open violently, slamming with the wall with a sharp crack. The static is practically deafening.]

Static: Alden! Where… What else is in here? Who else is—

Alden: You called?

[There’s a pause.]

Static: Has there been anybody here? Anybody… human?

Alden: No, ma’am. Not with my knowledge. Is something wrong?

[There’s the low hiss of static.]

Static: No… nothing is wrong. Let’s go.

[Footsteps begin to fade. The door falls to the floor with a loud slam.]

[The moment their far enough, Lazarus gasps as though he’d been holding his breath the entire time, each breath shallow and uneven.]

Lazarus: What— what should— Oh my god what—

[The panic doesn’t stop. His breathing grows more ragged every second.]

I can’t— can’t— breathe. What was— Atlas was right. God, Atlas was right.

[Tape clicks off]

[Tape clicks on]

Lazarus: I need to calm down. It’s not going to… it won’t help me to panic. Could make things worse.

[Lazarus breathes a deep sigh.]

I can hear the static still. It’s distant. That means its close. I need to calm down though. I won’t make it out alive if I can’t…

[Lazarus breathing trembles.]

Jesus Christ, what if I don’t make it out of here? What—

[Lazarus stops abruptly. Their’s the faint grunt as he forces himself to stand, his body clearly straining after what has happened.]

[He takes three steps, all the while holding the tape recorder.]

Static-speaking being ambush? Researched revolt? Research Subject R8162S’s Behavioral Patterns and Response to Stimuli?

Oh, er, there— There’s a whiteboard. There’s writing in purple marker. Most of it’s smudged, hard to read. S- some of it, though, some of it I can read.

Consistent with acute… or ongoing exposure to fear-inducing… deep-seated… signs of dissociation… detachment and disconnection from… by mistrust… further assessment… and develop—

[The sound of footsteps grows loud, sudden, as though having only just appeared just down the hall.]

[There’s a faint gasp as Lazarus realizes he has nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, nowhere to go.]

[The footsteps stop just by the door.

Atlas: Lazarus! You fucking idiot! You scared me, you nitwit!

Lazarus: Atlas?

[There’s a silence as Atlas pulls Lazarus close in a hug, tight and desperate.]

Lazarus: How did you know?

Atlas: The radio. I told you not to… What happened to your leg. Sit down.

Lazarus: Wha— no, it’s fine—

Atlas: Sit.

[Lazarus, albeit reluctantly, sat down in a nearby chair. His breathing, ever so slightly, grew less strained.]

Lazarus: Paper, there… er… pencil, pencil what sort of facility doesn’t have a pen—

[Small pause as Atlas hands Lazarus a pencil.]

Thanks.

[There’s the sound of pencil scribbling, quick and swift.]

Atlas: What is this?

Lazarus: I don’t know. I just know if it’s here, it’s—

[There’s the sound of pencil scratching stops. There’s a light scratch of something against metal.]

Atlas: What is that?

Lazarus: I think it’s the catalog. It’s… It’s smaller than I thought it’d be? Seventy five years of physiological evaluations and… this is it? You’d think there’d be more, wouldn’t you?

Atlas: Lazarus, that isn’t seventy years of research. The… The last time there were any researchers here, was… ten years ago? Maybe twelve, fourteen at the most. Time’s a bit confusing here.

Lazarus: Why did they leave?

[There’s a small pause.]

Atlas: Most of them didn’t leave. Let’s just say, to the things here, there’s no difference between us and the researchers. If it feel’s fear, it will be hunted down.

[Static roars through the building. In the distance, a door slams into a wall. Then a second door does. For every door that slams, the closer the sound seems.]

Atlas: Lazarus?

Lazarus: Hold on, I need to—

[There’s the thud of something hitting the ground and a muffled groan. The static is deafening as the door slams a second time. This time it tears off the hinges, falling against a wall, causing glass to shatter.]

Static: I know you’re in here. It wreaks of fear, I can practically taste it.

[More glass breaks. Atlas and Lazarus do not move from where they are on the ground.]

Why hide? You know it’s inevitable. The end, your untimely death? You must know you’re not dying from age. You must die, no doubt, but you’re not dying peacefully. 

Does that scare you? The thought of death at the hands of something not human, not understandable?

It should.

[Tape clicks off]

[Tape clicks on]

[Static roars in the distance as a pair of footsteps race down the corridor, the footsteps echoing in the hall. There’s a slight difference in one of the footsteps, a slight limp evident in the echo. Atlas and Lazarus are both breathing heavily.]

Atlas: Why would you come here, you idiot?!

Lazarus: Because I have to know why we’re—

[Lazarus’ footsteps stop as he’s slammed against the wall. He curses, a tremble beginning to form in his voice.]

Alden: You’re going to need to try harder to get by me, angel. Don’t you learn anything?

Atlas: Alden?

[There’s a pause. The only sound is that of Lazarus’ trembling breathing, only broken apart by a pained grimace or curse.]

Alden: Alden’s gone. I’ll give you one chance to leave, or else—

[The roar of static grows louder. A pipe bursts in the distance.]

[There’s a long pause.]

Atlas: I… I can’t leave Zarus here. 

Alden: But you could leave me here?!

[Alden lets go of Lazarus. Lazarus sinks to the ground, coughing and pained. Alden steps to face Atlas.]

Alden: But you could leave me here, and never come back? You never wondered, never wanted to know if I’d been locked up, if I’d maybe been torn apart?!

Atlas: Alden… I—

Lazarus: Guys?

Alden: Look at me! I don’t know who I am anymore? I don’t know what I am anymore. I’m not human! I’m not one of those— one of those things! So what am I, who am I?!

[There’s a pause. Alden’s voice isn’t full of anger or hate. His voice rings with desperation.]

Atlas: I’m sorry, Alden. And I know it won’t change anything that happened. It won’t fix anything that happened to you. Okay? I’m sorry. I’d have done anything to change what happened, to keep this from happening.

Lazarus: Er, guys? Ow, fuck.

Atlas: And you might not be human, and you might not be one of those. And I’m sure you’re not the same person I knew, hell, I doubt I’m the same person you knew. But… but if you gave me a chance, I’ll make it up to you. In any way possible.

[There’s a pause. Nobody says anything. Lazarus starts to cough.]

Lazarus: This is, um, real sweet, you guys, but I’m kinda seeing three of you right now… and that, er… funny looking shadow.

Atlas: Shadow?

Static: There you are.

Alden: Run.

[Tape clicks off]

[Tape clicks on]

Lazarus: Are we in a closet? With— With no back door to get out?

Alden: Oh, so he got your annoying attitude, did he now?

Atlas: Not now you two. Lazarus, sit down. Alden, stop brooding.

[There’s the slight shuffling in the tight space. Something clatters.]

Everything in here is either useless or expired. The lighter doesn’t have a single bit of lighter fluid in it—

Lazarus: Hey, uh, I’m not so sure that—

Alden: This place has been abandoned for nearly twenty five years, Atlas. What the hell do you expect, for it to be recently stocked with new—

Lazarus: The shelf guys?

Atlas: Oh, well I’m sorry! You shoved me into a stairwell and every other door was locked! How was I supposed to help you if you keep pushing me away!

Alden: You could’ve come back!

Atlas: For what? To be pushed away again?!

Lazarus: Lord almighty, you guys!

[There’s a pause before the sound of a door sliding open.]

Lazarus: The shelf is a door. Every facility has underground tunnels. Don’t you read any of the documents? Ever?

[There’s a single pair of footsteps, a slight limp making the echo uneven.]

And maybe if you two stopped arguing over everything, and just talked, and made sense of it all, you wouldn’t keep overlooking the blatantly apparent.

Take that food there. It’s been expired for fifty years now. It would’ve been expired for twenty years with people working here. It’s clear their trying to keep it hidden without wasting anything.

Now, I’m going to try and get out, because my leg is killing me, and sporadically things will blur over, therefore, I think that’s justifiable of me.

[Tape clicks off]

[Tape clicks on]

[Footsteps echo through the hall. It’s clear that Lazarus is walking between Atlas and Alden.]

Alden: You—

Lazarus: If you’re about to start and argument, then don’t say a word until we’re not here anymore.

[A slight pause as Alden grapples with not starting an argument for once.]

Lazarus: How do we know which way not to go?

Atlas: Look at the wall. It’s the same material as the facility. Once it turns to stone or brick or even clay, then we’ll be safe.

Is your leg okay, Zarus?

Lazarus: Fine. How do you know that about the walls?

Atlas: I, er, spent a bit of time down here…

[There’s a pause. Atlas ponders how to bring up what happened without causing an argument. Alden ponders the same thing, but with less of a care if they started an argument. Lazarus was thinking about the painkillers that waited for him back at home.]

Lazarus: Do you remember what it said? The… The thing?

Alden: The void?

Lazarus: Yeah, the void. Atlas, do you remember what it said?

[There’s a pause as Atlas tries to remember.]

Atlas: No?

Lazarus: It said how nobody is going to die of age. Nobody is going to go in their sleep, peacefully. And… it was right. Nobody here will. Anybody here, is going to die, at some point, from something horrific.

Atlas: You don’t think anybody will get out anymore?

Alden: (Scoffing) Anymore? You shouldn’t have believed that ever.

Lazarus: I still do.

[There’s a pause.]

But… but let’s say, any one of us do get out…? What do we do then? I mean, I don’t remember anything except my name. Atlas, I doubt you remember much about it? And— and Alden, not to be rude, but you don’t look human. 

[Alden grumble something under his breath.]

And then there’s the people who put us here in the first place. Chances are, if you get out, you’ll just get put back in… right? I mean, if their— their the ones who put us here… can’t— won’t they just do it again? What’s… I mean, really, what’s stopping them?

[There’s a long silence, only with the echo of footsteps and faint tremble of Lazarus’ breathing.]

Atlas: You’re the only thing stopping them, Lazarus. Let’s say, worst comes to worst, and you’re the only one who makes it out, you’ll be alone, with people who left you here. I know that isn’t what you want to hear, but it’s the truth. You will be alone. So… so you’re the only thing stopping them.

And I think if you can make it to that point, you’ll be able to handle yourself fine. Let’s… Let’s just get out and fix your leg up, alright?

[There’s a long silence that follows. Alden and Atlas share a look. They both know how hard it is to cling to hope in a place like this.]

[Tape clicks off]

[Tape clicks on]

Lazarus: Are… Are those— Are we—

Alden: It’s a tomb…

[There’s a long, eerie silence. There are no footsteps. The only sound is the echo of their breathing.]

Atlas: This must’ve been where those scientists disappeared off to…

Lazarus: What? No… that’s… hundreds?

[There’s a pair of footsteps that step forwards.]

Alden: They started disappearing, nobody knew where they went at first. Then… then more disappeared. I guess they ended up here.

Atlas: I just don’t want to meet what dragged them down here. Come on, let’s find a way out.

[There are two pairs of footsteps now. Lazarus is yet to move from where he stood. Atlas’ footsteps pause first, noticing Lazarus’ absence. Alden’s strides stop seconds, only a few strides away.]

Atlas: Lazarus? What’re you—

Lazarus: He just left them here to die?

[Lazarus’ voice is barely louder than a whisper. Atlas and Alden share a look before Atlas steps closer to Lazarus.]

Atlas: Who?

Lazarus: Dorian Blackwood. Eden told me he was the one who ran the… the whatever… He didn’t even try to help him? He should’ve notices when his researchers started disappeared!

Alden: Lazarus, these guys weren’t saints either. They never tried to help us.

Lazarus: He left them here to die! Nothing rots here, Alden! These should be bodies, not— not perfectly clean skeletons! And if the things here are as horrible as you two insist, I highly doubt they were dead when it happened! 

[Atlas and Alden stay quiet in stunned silence, and Lazarus continues. His voice is echoes with a mix of terror and fury.]

Lazarus: How different were they, Alden? Atlas, were hey doing any better then us? They might’ve had this night facility, medicine, and overall more, but honestly? Honestly, can you tell me they didn’t feel as terrified as anybody else trapped here?

Christ… how many of them are still being mourned?

Atlas: Lazarus?

Lazarus: Hmm.

Atlas: We can’t help them. And if we stay here longer than we have to, chances are we’ll end up like them.

[There’s a pause. There are no footsteps for seconds. Then, at long last, Lazarus begins walking. Atlas only continues to walk once Lazarus has passed him.]

[Tape clicks off]