Work Text:
[CLICK]
[THE PUPIL]
Alright, here we go again. (cough)
My name is Jonathan Sims. I work for the Magnus Institute, London, an organisation dedicated to academic research into the esoteric and the paranormal. The head of the Institute has employed me to replace the previous Head Archivist.
The three previous run-throughs ought to give me a proper system at least: Anything that can be recorded digitally will go in the discredited section. The rest will be sorted by the major influence of Smirk’s 14 and the 15th, then into year, month, date. Any other pertinent information, such as other potent entities, notable names, dates, places or objects, should be written on the inside of the front cover.
While I appreciate the reasons Gertrude kept it a mess, it does rather itch. And it doesn’t end up mattering all that much anyway. Besides, I sort of want to see if I can organise the thousands of 200 year old case files in full.
I Know you’ll end up listening to these Jonathan, and I’m assuming Jonah has insisted on giving you assistants by this point, either as part of the Watcher’s Crown or for his idealist nature, so: The investigations don’t matter, please don’t let them try. But, like the last few times, you completely ignore me and you do decide to run into hell, perhaps record yourself having a fun little game of whack-a-mole with the rituals, be sure to put them in the right files at least.
(tired laugh) You know, I always hated it when the tapes were cryptic. It’s hard not to be, I suppose, I’d have to explain far too much.
[A PAUSE]
Statement of Jacob, no second name given, regarding The End of The Eye. Related Entities: The Eye and The End. Original statement given July 15th 2011. Audio recording by Jonathan Sims, The Archive, The Pupil.
Statement begins.
[THE ARCHIVE]
It’ll get you too. You can stare all you want, make your notes and your inquiries, but all your Beholding will come to nothing. When the time arrives, and all is darkness and butchery, you’ll wish you had stopped listening and run.
[THE PUPIL]
Rather self-explanatory, but I had to put it somewhere. A statement about The Eye of course and I’m assuming The End, though it does sound uncannily like the apocalypse.
Perhaps there was an Archivist here before me. Trapped even before I was in this… purgatory. Perhaps they were simply so certain of their respective Entity’s Becoming they tried to threaten the Institute with it.
I hope for the latter for my own sanity's sake.
End recording.
[CLICK]
[CLICK]
[THE PUPIL]
……………
[THE PUPIL]
Other probable victims include Jessica McEwan- November 2005, Ashley Dobson May 2008, Megan Shaw- June 2008, John Fellowes- March 2010, and most noticeably, Sarah Baldwin and Daniel Rawlings in August and December 2006 respectively. Megan Shaw maybe comes up again too, I never got its second name.
Look out for them.
End recording.
[CLICK]
[CLICK]
[THE PUPIL]
Number one hundred!
[IT MIMICS A PARTY POPPER]
I’m not sure what I’m accomplishing here quite frankly, but I still count. I don’t think it will let me go that easily regardless. Doomed to bring about the end of the world no matter if I sit in the stands or tied between the puppeteer’s hands. I hope Annabelle’s getting a very good kick out of this, I would hate for her to miss out.
……………
[CLICK]
[CLICK]
[THE PUPIL]
Statement of Timothy Hodge, regarding his sexual encounter with one Harriet Lee and her subsequent death. Related Entities: The Corruption. Original statement given December 9th, 2014. Audio recording by Jonathan Sims, The Archive, The Pupil
Statement begins.
……………
> [CLICK]
[THE PUPIL]
YOU CAN HEAR ME! I KNOW YOU CAN HEAR ME! WHY AREN’T YOU PAYING ATTENTION?! PLEASE! I CAN HELP YOU! I CAN HELP!
>[CLICK]
……………
[THE PUPIL]
Statement Ends.
[IT PAUSES FOR A LONG WHILE]
(hoarsely) The Corrupt- (cough) The Corruption, quite obviously. Jane Prentiss… you have enough information about Jane Prentiss, just… get a CO2 suppression system and extra canisters and don’t- don’t trust anyone else to turn it all on for you.
(a bit more composed) Another statement-giver with not unintelligent instincts, although personally having sex with someone who you think, quote, “writhes” doesn’t seem very attractive. Although what would I know.
Timothy Hodge may not be okay, but at least neither is that flat.
End recording.
[CLICK]
[CLICK]
[THE PUPIL]
I think I am… here already.
There is someone in my office. Something I mean- Jonathan’s office I mean- I don’t
[IT HUFFS, CLEARLY ANNOYED]
I can’t See it.
Well, I can’t see anything, but I can’t See it. It’s just on the edge of my (heh) Vision, like cataracts, but… more like tinnitus. God, this is “colours that hate me” again.
I can only hear it sometimes. But I think.
I think it’s me. It feels sort of like an echo, it overlaps everything I do.
And I know I’ve done this before, so many times, so perhaps…
I think, when I die- when it brings me back- it’s always to the same time. Like maybe this is my original universe that I’m messing around with.
I don’t really like that thought.
I- uh
(sigh) End recording.
[CLICK]
[CLICK]
[THE PUPIL]
Statement of Joshua Gillespie, regarding his time in possession of an object of The Buried. Related Entities: The Buried and The Stranger. Original statement given November 22nd, 1998. Audio recording by Jonathan Sims, The Archive, The Pupil.
Statement begins.
……………
>[CLICK]
[THE PUPIL]
I don’t look as I thought I would.
[IT PAUSES]
(sigh) I don’t, (heh) feel as I thought I would. A god in all aspects, and still I am… unremarkable. I’m still a part of this place, that wasn’t unexpected, but, I didn’t expect it so, well, literally.
I have less than I had in fact, I can’t…
[ANOTHER PAUSE]
Well I can’t see. As normal. I think. I Know how things look, but it isn’t-
And I…
[IT PAUSES AGAIN]
I still… remember at least (sigh)
Him. (heh) I remember… him.
>[CLICK]
……………
[THE PUPIL]
Statement ends.
I’ve always liked this one, he’s incredibly intelligent, much more than I would have been. Or indeed more than I was. More than he is.
Buried. The Coffin should still be playing a big part, as should Breekon and Hope, avatars of The Stranger, write them down. Joshua’s not important.
If I haven’t changed anything, you’ll listen to these before looking for Daisy, so you’ll need an anchor to get out, anything that makes life worth living will do. A person tends to… be your best option.
Preferably one that knows what you’re doing, talk to them.
Please just talk to them.
[LONG PREGNANT PAUSE]
End recording
[CLICK]
[CLICK]
[THE PUPIL]
Statement of Jacob, no second name given, regarding The End of The Eye. Original statement given July 15th 2011. Audio recording by Jonathan Sims, The Archive, The Pupil.
Statement begins.
[THE ARCHIVE]
It’ll get you too. You can stare all you want, make your notes and your inquiries, but all your Beholding will come to nothing. When the time arrives, and all is darkness and butchery, you’ll wish you had stopped listening and run.
[THE PUPIL]
I… don’t trust The Eye anymore.
Not that it was trusted , but… I believed it couldn’t lie. Or only by omission.
[A PAUSE. SOMETHING THAT SOUNDS LIKE A CAUGHT SOB. YOU GET THE FEELING IT’S BEEN HELD IN FOR A WHILE.]
I don’t think they’re listening.
Sasha, Tim, Martin. Even later- Melanie, Basira, Daisy … Georgie… Jonathan ! Maybe not even Jonah.
I can’t believe they can hear me.
(sigh)
[CLICK]
[CLICK]
[THE PUPIL]
Fifteenth time round and I still don’t know these by heart.
Statement of Amy Patel, regarding Graham Folger’s replacement by the Not-Them. Original statement given July 1st, 2007. Audio recording by Jonathan Sims, The Archive, The Pupil.
Statement begins.
……………
[THE ARCHIVE]
……………
[THE PUPIL]
Statement ends.
I think if I stretch my memory back far enough I could repeat what I said my first ever time before… everything.
How utterly useless I was back then, the happiest I’ve ever been and I wasted it on being ashamed, on paranoia over when it would end. I didn’t even know when I read this…
(self-deprecating laugh) No, how utterly useless I still am. Does the world even continue after? Is there anyone to listen to these? Would anyone care? Am I putting even more people in danger by repeating the same things over and over.
I wish I never saw her again. I wish I could have seen the after. I should have moved away, but… well I never would have, and I don’t envy Melanie’s decision.
(sigh) I think I’m starving. I don’t know if it will let me. Stale statements indeed. I’d never even tried digesting them again. Regurgitating ash.
[CLICK]
[CLICK]
[THE PUPIL]
I can See her, I think. Naomi Herne… I will do right by you this time.
Jonathan has no business taking statements like this. I have no doubt Jonah will try to stop me, but I Know You now, “Elias” , you won’t get far.
[ITS FAMILIAR STATIC FADES WITH THE SOUND OF FOOTSTEPS]
[A DOOR IS OPENED CAREFULLY ON CREAKING HINGES]
[JONATHAN SIMS, THE ARCHIVIST]
Right, let’s try this.
……………
……………
[AS THE PUPIL AND THE ARCHIVE ARGUE, ITS STATIC AND RINGING TONE SWITCH ABRUPTLY]
[ITS ECHOES SOUND LIKE THEY’VE SETTLED IN ANOTHER ROOM]
[THE PUPIL]
I… am not sure how to describe this.
[THE ARCHIVE]
It was like… being thrown from the stage into the top box, I still…
[THE PUPIL]
There’s still power, but I suppose Jonathan still has
[THE ARCHIVE]
A hold on me? It wasn’t Elias’s power, of that I’m sure. I…
[THE PUPIL]
I can’t Know what happened… I’d forgotten this feeling… please stop
[THE ARCHIVE]
Please stop
[THE PUPIL]
Stop.
[THE ARCHIVE]
Jonathan.
[THE PUPIL]
(with compulsion) Stop it.
[CLICK]
[CLICK]
[THE PUPIL]
……………
[THE PUPIL]
Hello again Jonathan! Saying exactly the same things again and again are we? Whether I interrupt or not, Jonathan is the exact same idiot as I was. I suppose this is the difference between being The Pupil and being The Weaver. Knowledge and Understanding, once again. I don’t suppose I’ll ever understand this, but I think I Know the difference between them now at least.
Peter’s one of the… patrons (I need to find a better word for that) of the Institute, honestly it only bothers Elias, but I think that’s the first time I’ve given you that information, so do something with it.
He is next in line for head of the Institute, so ignore everything he says.
Just like you should be doing for “Elias”, Jonathan . I Know you listen back to these.
[CLICK]
……………
There was a ghost in his office.
At least Sasha thought so.
If Tim was meaner, he would have made way more of a joke out of it than he had.
Because although he’s seen… things… and although he absolutely loved watching those ghost-hunting shenanigans WTG got up to, actual, real-life, not-for-views ghosts were never in his ball-bag.
But Tim wasn’t meaner, in fact he was perfectly selfless, and so when Sasha had yesterday presented the idea in the middle of work, Tim had laughed his goddamn arse of. Because actually, genuinely, how could he not.
He reached across the table to give her arm a light flick- she’d been staring at the computer for the last hour, either working or searching up Ghosts In Your Area, except she hadn’t been typing for a while.
It was another two taps before she turned, and he grinned, incredibly cleverly hiding the worry, he thought. “Stop losing your wifi, Sash! They don’t know you’re not real.”
She lost a bit of the spaced-out look in order to narrow her eyes. “Real enough, darling,” she raised her backhand threateningly, and leant forward to halfheartedly join in: “Not so loud, Tim, Martin can’t know about the invasion.”
Martin was aiming for studiousness in the corner, and the tiny smile playing on his lips would have found him out if Tim were more focused. Sasha still wasn’t completely with it, or else wasn’t trying to be.
“Real enough for what?” Tim raised an eyebrow suggestively, and started wiggling them encouragingly when Sasha didn’t join in again. They’d had their spats before- granted not after Tim had figured himself out enough to stop being a dick about her- but she was usually very good at telling him exactly what she was pissed about. They hadn’t done the silent treatment in years, and it hadn’t been on her end.
He walked around her desk and crouched in front of it. “What you working on?” He tried instead, “New ways to flush out ghosties? I could bring in my ouija to set alight in a circle of tape recorders? Fill in some forms wrong in the middle of the Boss’s office? Draw the eyes back on the creepy scratched-up portraits so they can see us .”
“I was doing work, actually.” She was smiling now, but not in the banter-with-your-friend-with-benefits way, more in the leave-me-alone-I-don’t-get-paid-enough sort of customer service-y way.
He felt another stab of guilt. Yesterday she’d been a little off after the Ghost Conversation, and the texts last night were a little (a lot) more stilted, and he had wondered…
Often he listened to what she told him and believed it unequivocally; she tended to know A Lot, and often spilled all the bean (and consequently won most of the bets with him). Often she’d seen some shit in Storage and talked to him, and he’d keep with the straightest face possible; most of her stories were just unbelievably horrifying, but some of them were just weird, and she tended to laugh with him.
Often she was joking with him.
That Yasmin was dating Josh was the story she brought up most to (try and; he has no dignity) humiliate him. It had been circling the rumour-mill back when they’d just met and Tim believed every word out of her gorgeous mouth. Sasha had confirmed that yes, they were, but they were actually also both dating Mike from accounting too, though without the other one knowing. Mike from accounting actually had the same surname as Rosie from the front desk, she said, and no one was quite sure if it was just coincidence or if they were siblings, but she knew that it was neither; technically, they were married. They shared a home and wanted a joint bank account and to not look suspicious- Yasmin was also an old fling of Rosie’s.
If Tim hadn’t questioned the married for legal reasons plot-line, he’d been assured that her next step would have been a Robin Hood and his band of Merry Men vibe with all but Josh taking part. He had assured her that he would never have believed her.
He’d failed to realise for about a month that there was no Mike From Accounting.
All this to say, Sasha was the best at making a joke and sticking to it. He hadn’t meant to push, but he wanted to be sure what was wrong.
She was brilliant at talking, but equally as good at sending the cold shoulder, so… he let it be for now.
It was massive.
Sometimes.
She couldn’t think of another word for it, no matter how many years she’d had dealing with things that were slightly off , this thing was…
It was a ghost.
She was almost sure of it. And it was a little bit more than something from Storage.
Because it was almost human. Almost real , almost there , but not.
It doesn’t stretch form, but aches and strains to condense, wrenches itself to reign in, to try in vain to become familiar and pulses back, and
And.
There are eyes.
It is black and pounces across the room- a shadow thrown by the light, but thrown instead by…
She can’t see them. She can hear it sometimes, there is only an echo, a billion, billion different echos of the same voice- the same ghost.
Unwinding.
The word comes to her in its wholeness, in its perfection: it is unwinding.
There are eyes, but it is blind.
And then once,
There isn’t.
There was a ghost in his office.
At least Sasha had tried to make him believe it. Not even she could believe that, and she used to be friends with someone who swore that the world had ended in 2020.
His brother was there when he returned. He was surprised that he was surprised.
Danny made dinner, because he always did, and Tim comforted him when they both cried, and had no idea why they were crying.
They slept in the same bed, like they did when they were children, and neither of them noticed the spider stopping its walk, picking up its legs carefully, taking its eyes off of them, and skittering away.
The old fear that Danny had, of being controlled, instilled in him by the cops of their old town, that made him love ignoring signs, broke apart in pieces beneath them like an unused spider’s web.
PC Gareth Eden, of Hitchin (as he expected everyone to remember him) no longer remembered the Stoker boys. Why should he? There were many little boys who liked spiders. Many little boys who knew about his arachnophobia. Many little boys who he hated. Who he hit.
He used to remember (and never remembered) his girlfriend, Hannah. She brought a spider home once, inadvertently in her jacket pocket.
She told him it was little Danny who put it there to scare him, but she thinks it was probably Maya. She had a soft-spot for that kid, and she wasn’t exactly ignorant of what Gary might do if a child had made him scared.
Maya only liked Hannah, Hannah gave her cupcakes, Hannah felt bad because Maya didn’t like her mum. And her mum hadn’t liked spiders.
If The Magnus Institute was ever as The Pupil wished it to be, the statement about Maya’s mother’s death would be just below that of Carlos Vittery’s.
[CLICK]
[THE ARCHIVE]
Vigilo, Audio, Supervenio
[THE PUPIL]
Here we are again. As many times as I have years. Or rather my body has years.
(sigh) I think.
I don’t trust much anymore.
[IT AND ITS ECHOES SPEAK ALONG WITH JONATHAN AS HE STARTS]
[JONATHAN SIMS, THE ARCHIVIST]
Statement of Hazel Rutter regarding a fire in her childhood home…
[THE TAPE SPEEDS UP AND STOPS AT:]
You who watch and
[IT SPEEDS FASTER AND STOPS AT:]
Leaves and Hides and Weaves and
[ITS WHIRS ARE ALMOST COMFORTING NOW]
I- OPEN- THE DOOR!
[CLICK]
[THE TAPE IS OFF]
[HIS JACKET RUSTLES AS HE TURNS AWAY. AND TOWARDS.]
[THERE IS THE SOUND OF A TAPE UNWINDING]
[AND A FOOTSTEP BEHIND YOU]
[AND THE FEELING OF EYES ALONG YOUR BACK]