[CLICK]
[PANTING BREATHS, ECHOING SLIGHTLY, THAT SLOWLY EVEN OUT]
JON
Wh-what…what…?
Martin! Martin, where—where are you? I can’t—oh, God, I can’t see anything, I can’t—did that—
(in a different tone of voice) Martin? Are you here?
[ECHOING SILENCE]
JON
…Okay. Okay, this—this isn’t reality. This isn’t—he’d be here if I was—
Right. Okay.
(more loudly) Hello? Hello, is anyone out there?
[MORE SILENCE]
JON
W-wait…wait, is that—there’s something—okay, okay, I’m not blind, it’s just…dark. I can cope with that.
Right, okay. Think, Jon. After what you just did…if you’re not in the Institute, if you’re not in the world you’re used to, then you’re probably…somewhere else. So things are going to follow dream logic, right?
Right. Dream logic. (sigh) So I suppose I go looking for a switch.
[ODD CHITTERING, BUZZING NOISE THAT SUDDENLY STOPS]
JON
Oh, for—there has got to be away around this. No light switch, no walls, and I don’t trust the floors, so…
What am I supposed to do, say “Let there be light”?
[LOUD THUNKING NOISE, LIKE SOMEONE SWITCHING ON STAGE LIGHTS, OR AT LEAST A SPOTLIGHT]
JON
Seriously?
(frustrated sigh) Well, at least I can see now. I—wait. What in the—who’s there?
[A VOICE BEGINS SINGING SLOWLY, FAINTLY AT FIRST BUT SLOWLY GETTING LOUDER]
ANNABELLE
One elephant went out to play
Upon a spider’s web one day
She had such enormous fun
She called for another elephant to come…
JON
You have got to be kidding me.
(resigned sigh) Right, here we go…
[ODD NOISE STARTS UP AGAIN, PUNCTUATED BY STICKY RIPPING SOUNDS, FADING IN AND OUT AS IF RESPONDING TO PRESSURE…OR FOOTSTEPS]
ANNABELLE
Hello, Jon.
JON
Annabelle Cane. Why am I not surprised?
ANNABELLE
You don’t sound pleased to see me.
JON
Let’s just say yours is not the first face I wanted to see when I woke up.
ANNABELLE
I have good news for you, then. It isn’t. You’re not awake.
JON
Oh, you can invade dreams now too, can you?
ANNABELLE
You aren’t asleep, either. And I think you already knew that.
JON
Oh, goddammit.
[A MOMENT OF SILENCE, SAVE THE FAINT ODD CHITTERING NOISE]
JON
…Wait. That noise, that’s—
And it gets louder every time we—
[CHITTERING SUDDENLY GETS LOUDER, WITH A FEW CLEAR WORDS HERE AND THERE, THEN FADES AGAIN]
JON
Are these tapes?
ANNABELLE
A fine material to spin a web with, don’t you think?
JON
It’s you.
A-all this time, all these—the recorders, the, the tapes…it’s all been you?
ANNABELLE
Well, not all me. Not all of it, anyway.
The Mother of Puppets has always collected stories. There are more reasons than one it’s called spinning a tale, you know. And spiders…it’s so hard to keep them out of places. People don’t generally call exterminators for them. Not for only one or two, and not if they don’t seem dangerous.
So yes. The Web has been lurking about the Magnus Institute, and the Archives, nearly as long as there has been an Institute. Listening. Drawing from the stories. Weaving a tapestry that tells the history of the world…and its future.
But this web? This one is mine.
JON
The tapes I recorded…
ANNABELLE
Oh, yes. All the tapes since you became the Archivist are here. Listen to this!
[A SQUEAL, THEN A CLEAR PLAY OF THE TAPE FROM MAG 000.2 - PRE-LAUNCH TRAILER]
ARCHIVIST ON TAPE
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.
[ANOTHER STICKY SOUND, LIKE SOMEONE PULLING OFF AN ADHESIVE BANDAGE]
JON
(shocked) That—that was—I only did that one as a test, to—to see if the recorders would work…
ANNABELLE
And they did. Admirably.
Go on. Try one.
JON
Look, I don’t—
ANNABELLE
You’re curious, aren’t you? You want to know.
There is no time here. Not really. No hurry. No pain. Nothing can hurt you if you indulge your curiosity a little bit. And it might not be so easy to believe once you leave.
Pick a strand. All you have to do is touch it, like so—
[ANOTHER SQUEAL, AND THEN ANOTHER RECORDING BEGINS TO PLAY FROM MAG 22 - COLONY]
MARTIN ON TAPE
—wasn’t anything to do with spiders that ended up after me. Almost wish it had been. (nervous laugh) I like spiders. Big ones, at least—
[RECORDING CUTS OFF WITH STICKY SOUND AGAIN]
ANNABELLE
—and you can hear them.
JON
He doesn’t anymore, you know.
ANNABELLE
Like spiders? Oh, believe me, I know.
I don’t think he’s liked them since he found out what happened to you. Not that I can blame him, of course. How do you feel about clowns these days? Or being alone?
JON
I—
ANNABELLE
Go on, Jon. Touch one. It doesn’t have to be…fresh.
JON
Why are some of these—
Is that…ash?
ANNABELLE
Dust, mostly.
(considers) Well, some of it might be ash. It depends on why that section of web isn’t used anymore.
JON
(tartly) I didn’t know being obscure and mysterious was in the Web’s domain.
ANNABELLE
It is if you want to manipulate somebody who’s addicted to knowledge.
Oh, don’t look at me like that. I’m not trying to manipulate you. It’s just a habit at this point, really.
JON
…Fine.
[A COUPLE OF CAREFUL STICKY, CHITTERING FOOTSTEPS, THEN A SOFT SQUEAL BEFORE A RECORDING SHARPENS IN, FROM MAG 134 - TIME OF REVELATION]
PETER ON TAPE
What does—puzzle me though, and I mean that genuinely, is—why you were piling tape recorders onto the coffin while Jon was in there. (brief pause) It’s a question, Martin, it’s—it’s not an accusation.
MARTIN ON TAPE
I don’t know. And I just – felt like it might help. He’s always recording, and I thought it—it might help him…find his way out.
PETER ON TAPE
Interesting. Were you compelled?
MARTIN ON TAPE
I don’t know. Maybe? I-I, I definitely wanted to do it.
[RECORDING FADES OUT ON THE LAST WORD]
JON
(shocked) Th-that, that was—that hasn’t happened, that didn’t happen…
ANNABELLE
This time.
JON
You knew? When, when I met you at Hill Top Road, when you…you knew I’d come back from the future.
ANNABELLE
Of course.
You and Martin, your Martin, you came back after Jonah Magnus made you end the world. The Keeper of the Light led you to a door, that led you through some halls, that led you to another door, that led you…back. To get—
JON
—a second chance.
ANNABELLE
A second chance? Hardly.
JON
And just what is that supposed to mean, exactly?
ANNABELLE
Only that.
JON
…Fine. F-fine. Be mysterious and vague. See if I care.
[ANNABELLE LAUGHS KNOWINGLY]
JON
How do you know…the tapes. You just told me you’ve been listening to the tapes. Martin made his statement about those halls—
ANNABELLE
But you didn’t.
You haven’t talked about what your journey was like to anyone, have you? Not even Martin. He knows you came through the same halls, but not what you saw. He doesn’t know that for you, there were no colors and no changes, that every hallway was the same and there was no way to tell when you were getting closer, until you reached that long tunnel.
The one with the glass walls and ceiling, like an underwater aquarium. With dark shapes you couldn’t make out pressing against the outside, trying to get your attention. With thousands of whispering voices, over one another, so hard to make out, pleading, promising, coaxing. Offering you anything you desired if you would only make it stop, blaming you for their suffering, demanding how you could just walk on by as if—
JON
Stop.
ANNABELLE
You didn’t know you were recording, either. You’ve grown so used to those recorders that you didn’t even notice them anymore. And yet, I was listening.
JON
You were—what?
Y-you—you’re from the future, too!
ANNABELLE
Mm. That’s more complicated than you think it is.
JON
How did you know what we were doing?
ANNABELLE
Because I set it in motion.
JON
…You…you what? Those halls, that—that portrait gallery, that—
ANNABELLE
Which one?
JON
Which—both of them. The ones that—that Martin had to face.
You said you listened to the tapes, you—
ANNABELLE
I did. And I was…shadowing you both, I suppose.
You never wondered how I was at Salesa’s, did you? Not why I was there, how I was there.
JON
I…to be honest, I don’t remember much about those days.
ANNABELLE
I don’t mean while you were there. I mean after. You never thought about how I could have ended up outside my own domain, let alone outside the Apocalypse altogether.
JON
I tried to think about you as little as possible.
ANNABELLE
(heh) I’d be hurt if I didn’t understand completely. I suppose if I’d been lucky enough to escape the Spinner of Webs, I’d want nothing to do with any of her children either.
But you know the rules of the Apocalypse, Jon. It never occurred to you to wonder how a Watcher could stray from their domain?
JON
Martin did. And Helen. They both—
[STATIC CRACKLES; IT’S THE ARCHIVIST’S STATIC, BUT IT SOUNDS UNUSUAL IN A WAY THAT’S DIFFICULT TO PINPOINT]
JON
The Distortion never truly left its domain. Never went far from its doors. And while the domains we saw Helen in were seemingly those of other fears, they all had at least an element of the Spiral in them.
Martin was in the unique position of being both Watcher and Watched. He had the domain he oversaw, small though it was, but he was also, perhaps, the only sufferer in a domain that belonged to me as me and not me as the Eye itself. He could walk the world unharmed because what hurt him was watching my pain and power grow in equal measure, the suffering of not knowing what I would choose in the end.
And you…
Your domain was like Daisy’s. It was the other domains, woven through them like a silken thread, a subtle tug of manipulation. It was the tapes that kept recording our journey and the tugs that led us to people we tried to help or conquer and a thousand tiny maneuverings to keep us moving ahead.
[STATIC FADES; JON GASPS SLIGHTLY]
JON
That…that shouldn’t have felt like that.
ANNABELLE
You’re a bit far from the Eye here. But to be fair, so am I.
JON
We’re in the middle of your fucking web!
ANNABELLE
But my web. Not the Web.
Any power the Mother of Puppets has here is residual, and comes through me. Any power the Ceaseless Watcher has here is residual, and comes through you. I brought the web to show you, to help you understand, but it doesn’t belong here any more than we do.
JON
You were—you were manipulating those tunnels. To…what? Slow us down?
ANNABELLE
To help. Well, you didn’t need it, but Martin…
JON
Martin is stronger than you think.
ANNABELLE
Do you know whose domain that was?
JON
The Spiral’s. Of course.
ANNABELLE
And the Eye. Together.
Together they hung that gallery of accusation, the paintings that all seemed to hold Martin responsible for their deaths. His friends, his family…strangers he never met but felt responsible for. Its purpose was to keep Martin lost—disorientated and in crippling pain and anguish. Forever.
If he had kept going down that corridor, he would never have found the door to the past. And the Keeper would never have been able to find him. Both of them had too much of the Lonely in them—just enough to keep them both isolated and searching. If they didn’t know where to meet.
JON
(whispers) My God.
They—they knew what we were trying to do. Of course they did. And they didn’t—
ANNABELLE
It’s not about foresight. Neither of them really have that. That domain was a mix of the Spiral and the Eye. It’s just what it was designed for, that’s all.
JON
That’s all? It was more than enough.
So which did you—
(with horrified realization) The paintings of me. You did that.
ANNABELLE
To remind him.
JON
Of what, for God’s sake?
ANNABELLE
In part, of what he had to prevent—what he had to stop from happening. What you’d been through and he had to make sure didn’t happen. In part, it was letting him experience your pain. He’d heard what you went through, of course, but to actually see it…in so many ways, that would make it worse, and make his determination stronger.
And, of course, part of it was just putting you back in his mind over everyone else. It was the last little…anchor tethering the two of you together, to the past. Something to keep him present so the Keeper could find him.
JON
And show him that last painting. Thankfully.
Did you know about that one?
ANNABELLE
I put that one there, too.
Surely you didn’t think the Keeper knew enough to have done it.
JON
I—n-no, no, but—
Why?
ANNABELLE
Why show it to him?
JON
Why that moment?
ANNABELLE
Because it wasn’t on tape.
I left you alone while you were in Scotland, up until the end. You two deserved a few weeks…unobserved. Alone together. To figure out what you are to one another.
Actually, I had quite a job keeping the Distortion distracted so it wouldn’t pop in and interrupt. It was something of a challenge.
The first time, anyway.
JON
The first time?
ANNABELLE
Oh, we’ve done this dance before. In its fashion.
JON
What dance?
ANNABELLE
The Apocalyptic Tango, I think Martin called it once.
[JON SIGHS IN EXASPERATION]
JON
Do you ever give a straight answer? Or tell the truth?
ANNABELLE
I’m hurt! I’ve been nothing but honest with you this whole time.
JON
(dry as the Sahara) And the other times?
ANNABELLE
Mostly you wouldn’t have believed me.
I did try a time or two. You always insisted it wasn’t possible, or that there must be some sort of catch. You only believed me once, and even then, I don’t think you believed. You simply wanted it to be true.
JON
Are you trying to get me to compel the truth out of you?
ANNABELLE
The way you did Peter Lukas? Or…which one was it? Breekon?
You don’t need to force it, you know. All you have to do is…ask nicely, and I will spin you the tale.
JON
…
Statement of Annabelle Cane, regarding the Web’s plan. Recorded direct from subject…ah…
ANNABELLE
At the end.
JON
…Statement begins.
ANNABELLE
This is the house at Hill Top Road.
This is the crack beneath the house at Hill Top Road.
This is the hole that lay in the crack beneath the house at Hill Top Road.
This is the truth that lurked in the hole that lay in the crack beneath the house at Hill Top Road.
This is the spider that peered at the truth that lurked in the hole that lay in the crack beneath the house at Hill Top Road.
These are the strings that moved the spider that peered at the truth that lurked in the hole that lay in the crack beneath the house at Hill Top Road.
This is the hand that pulled the strings that moved the spider that peered at the truth that lurked in the hole that lay in the crack beneath the house at Hill Top Road.
This is the Mistress that bore the hand that pulled the strings that moved the spider that peered at the truth that lurked in the hole that lay in the crack beneath the house at Hill Top Road.
This is the web that cradled the Mistress that bore the hand that pulled the strings that moved the spider that peered at the truth that lurked in the hole that lay in the crack beneath the house at Hill Top Road.
This is the blade that cut the web that cradled the Mistress that bore the hand that pulled the strings that moved the spider that peered at the truth that lurked in the hole that lay in the crack beneath the house at Hill Top Road.
This is the hero that wielded the blade that cut the web that cradled the Mistress that bore the hand that pulled the strings that moved the spider that peered at the truth that lurked in the hole that lay in the crack beneath the house at Hill Top Road.
This is the story that begged to be told of the hero that wielded the blade that cut the web that cradled the Mistress that bore the hand that pulled the strings that moved the spider that peered at the truth that lurked in the hole that lay in the crack beneath the house at Hill Top Road.
Again, and again, and again, and again.
So few of the things that are Fear are gifted with foresight. The End, of course, knows what will come, because the End is inevitable. All things end, sooner or later. The Web cannot see the future but it can see…patterns. The threads of a story, and what they will be when they weave together.
When the Mother of Puppets first saw the crack beneath Hill Top Road, she thought she understood what it was. A hole in reality, a portal between universes. Places where fear had not touched, where it was not known. But then she saw it for what it was. A crack, not in space, but in time. A way to move between moments. And she began to plan. For she saw the threads, and she knew that someday, someone would end the world. And when that happened…eventually, all would end. Even fear cannot last forever, in a world where nothing new is born. Eventually, all must end.
Her plan has been the same, for years. Generations. Choose a champion, mark them young. Put them in the path of a fear, and wait. Then, should the world end at the hands of that fear, tug that champion to cut the strings of fate and send all bound up in it through the crack…and back in time. Back in time enough that they could stop it.
And really, it should have worked.
To a point, it did work. Again, and again, and again, and again. Jonah Magnus sent you his ritual, you read it, the world came to an end. You tried to repair it. You walked to London…and there it got complicated.
The trouble is the Spinner’s plan depended, in the end, on your choice. We told you that you would have had to simultaneously blow up the Archives and stab Jonah Magnus, and then all would have been thrown back in time. In truth, that would not have worked—not if Jonah was still the Eye’s Pupil. It had to be you. You had to choose to take his place…and then have the tethers cut. Then, and only then, would you be sent back with the knowledge to alter things.
Sometimes I told you the original story, that it was a crack in reality and would send all the fears somewhere else, or scatter them across worlds. Once or twice I told you the truth. As I said, it was so hard for you to believe me, regardless of what I spun. Mostly you thought I was manipulating you, lying to you, trying to get you to doom a thousand other worlds. Occasionally you thought it would end the world faster. Only once did you believe me—in a time when I came to you in a cabin in what was once Scotland, a time when I knew you would not act if you did not know you could turn back time, a time when the man you loved turned back for his umbrella and understood what he was hearing and tried to save you and the world.
JON
No…
ANNABELLE
It never quite worked, in the end. Time and again, the strings would be cut, the world would snap back…and time and again, we would retread the same paths. Over and over. So little I could change, so little I could do differently before the Apocalypse and I tried to find a new way to get you to be in position to be dragged back.
Finally, finally, it happened. You tried to take Jonah Magnus’ place, to hasten the end and starve the fears…it would never have worked, of course, but you tried. Martin anticipated it, though, he tried to stop you before you killed Jonah, to delay you while the others lit the fuse. You were faster than he thought, though, and had already become the Pupil of the Eye. You told him to go. To save himself. But Martin would not leave you, despite the danger. Rather than watch him die for nothing, you told him to cut the tether. And he did.
It worked the way the Web intended, of course it did. But for you to remember and be able to fix it, you would have both had to be alive when you came through at the other side. Even one of you would have been enough. But when I woke again and plucked the strand of the Web, I could hear that neither of you remembered.
Neither of you had survived.
[JON MAKES A PAINED NOISE OF DISTRESS]
ANNABELLE
It was then that I realized that Mother’s plan depended too heavily on precise timing. She wanted me to try again, of course. Strangely enough, the Fears never knew it had happened, not even the Web. But she reminded me, again and again, about her plan, told me what strings to pull.
This time, though…this time I thought I’d try something a bit different.
I did what I have done every other time. I stayed with Salesa, I spoke to you both. I followed your progress through the tapes, and when you disappeared beneath the tunnels…I acted. As I promised him, I killed him, and I took his camera. I brought it to London, to the Institute…to the Panopticon. But this time, I brought it up to the belly of the beast. I took it to the office of Jonah Magnus.
The camera wasn’t strong enough to dispel the entire Apocalypse there, of course. But it created enough of a hole to break Jonah free of the Eye’s hold.
He was as pleased to see me as you might expect. Demanded to know what I was doing there. And I told him. I told him I had come to warn him.
JON
What?!
ANNABELLE
I told him that his precious Archivist was far from resigned to this new world he had brought about, that he was coming to stop it. To stop him. I said that you were bringing Martin with you and that you had a plan, and if he wanted to continue his reign, he’d best do something to stop it.
JON
Did you have any idea what that something would be?
ANNABELLE
Patterns. Of course I knew.
Jonah would never have harmed you, even if he could have; he still hoped to get you on his side. As you learned tonight. On the other hand, he would have known, or at least guessed, that the only thing stopping you from joining him was Martin. And even if he couldn’t hope to win you over by separating you…he would at least have found a way to use that bond against you.
JON
(shouting) Martin could have died because of you!
ANNABELLE
Perish the thought! My dear Jon, do you even know how many times I’ve been through this loop?
Even when I filled him with spiders, there has never been a time you could bring yourself to harm him in the slightest, let alone kill him. Faced with a choice between letting him die or getting revenge, I knew you would save him. Of course he wouldn’t have died.
[JON SPUTTERS INDIGNANTLY]
ANNABELLE
And I made sure you had somewhere to recover. I had already nudged the Keeper towards that door.
He couldn’t have done it, of course; he was too tightly bound to the Light—not the Lonely, not the fear he watched over, but the Light itself. If it fell, so would he, and he cannot leave it for long. Even if he had come back, he would have been unable to make a difference in anyone’s past. But of course he thought of the Archivist. His godson. And when you thought Martin might be taken from you, you experienced the precise fear that summoned one of his doors—the fear of being forever separated from the one you love.
Perhaps the original plan would have worked eventually. Perhaps someday you, or Martin, or both of you, would have survived long enough to awaken in the past and remember. But I think it’s better this way, don’t you? Much more…direct.
And look how much you’ve spared the others from.
JON
The others—G-Georgie, Melanie, Basira—in, in that timeline, the one Martin and I left. Did they…what happened to them?
ANNABELLE
The Keeper and I took care of that. Don’t worry.
After he saw you safely through, I introduced myself to him and told him what needed to happen. He fetched Basira and took her to the tunnels beneath the Institute, and then I came myself. I told them what Jonah had done, what you had done, and what they needed to do.
I gave them the choice. The same one I often gave you. I told them they could either…let things stay as they were, allow things to die out in time, and keep apart from it, or end it. Take out Jonah Magnus and blow up the Institute simultaneously, and send all the Fears back in time as well—the Fears, and any of us too tightly bound up in them to survive without them.
I know you won’t believe me, Jon, but I never influenced them to make the choice they did. Basira did ask me what they usually chose, and I did tell her that I had never known them to choose anything other than one option, but I didn’t tell her what it was. I knew it would be important for you to know that, whatever they chose, it was their decision and their decision alone.
JON
(heh) I can’t imagine Melanie not choosing the option that allows her to kill Elias.
[ANNABELLE LAUGHS]
ANNABELLE
Neither can I. And she didn’t choose differently.
As I understand it, Melanie made her way up alone—being blind, of course, the fearful things on those stairs could not affect her—while Basira provided a distraction and Georgie lit the gas aflame. Melanie took the camera and aimed it at Jonah Magnus to bring him down, and then while he tried to belittle her, she stabbed him, just as the building blew.
JON
And then what happened? Did they survive?
ANNABELLE
I don’t know. But they succeeded, or I wouldn’t be here.
JON
…
How many others has the Web done this to? Tried to—manipulate into a savior?
ANNABELLE
Oh, I don’t know. Hundreds?
Most of them would have failed. Many never made it beyond her. I was one of them, actually, a child tested out but ultimately found lacking, although I was the only one I think she would have trusted with this. But you…the Mother of Puppets saw the threads of your life. So many Fears noticed you as a child that you were bound to fall afoul of one of them eventually. And as soon as she realized where Jonah Magnus’ thoughts were trending, and where they would eventually lead, she knew that you would be a perfect candidate to complete the ritual in the end.
So she chose you. She lured you in. And you resisted her pull. She knew then that you would be the only one strong enough to succeed.
JON
I only survived because someone else took my place! I would have died if he hadn’t—
ANNABELLE
My dear Jon. Has anyone meant to be claimed by a power ever actually handed away a book or an artifact willingly?
Had you been meant to be the Spinner’s in the end, Mitchell Hopkins would never have been able to take that book from you, let alone read it. Mister Spider was a test, a test that you passed.
A test I never would have.
JON
…
…Was that his name? Mitchell?
ANNABELLE
It was.
It is.
And now you know everything.
[A FEW MOMENTS OF SILENCE, SAVE THE TAPES CHITTERING IN THE BACKGROUND]
JON
I—I suppose I should be grateful that we don’t remember all of…these. All these…cobwebs.
I’m damned grateful I don’t remember—
ANNABELLE
I must admit, that was a bad one.
JON
Getting through that…it was hard enough with Martin. I don’t—I don’t see how I did it alone.
Especially after—especially knowing I—
Did I know?
ANNABELLE
…
You spent far longer at Salesa’s that time than you did any other time. In the end, I had to go with you almost all the way to London.
…Yes. You knew.
Not at the time. Not when it happened. But the Eye made sure you Knew the details in the end. You ran into Basira and she asked where Martin was—
JON
—and the Beholder forced me to describe it.
ANNABELLE
You said yourself, more than once. None of this has ever been to the benefit of humanity. Or any individual human.
JON
Or whatever I—whatever we are.
ANNABELLE
What defines a human, anyway? The limitations, or the abilities?
We can do more than what an ordinary human can. But we can still do all the things that an ordinary human can, too. We think. We feel. We love, Jon.
As far as I’m concerned, that makes us human.
JON
…Who do you love, Annabelle?
ANNABELLE
I was the first to hold him. Did you know that? I was staying with Harry and his wife while I was at university, just before I took part in that study. They wanted someone to read to him before he was born, so he would learn the stories. Harry worked late, trying to make a better life for them all, and Elizabeth…well, she was blind, so she could tell stories fine, but she wanted him to hear books too. Every night, after dinner, I’d sit and read to her belly. He came early and Harry didn’t get to the hospital in time, so after Elizabeth, I was the first one to hold him.
Harry picked out his first name because he knew I hated that book. Elizabeth softened it by picking a middle name after me, but…she always called him Charlie. I think she knew, even then.
A couple years after I became part of the Web, the Desolation took Harry, probably to spite me, but…Harry was never the one I cared about. Elizabeth, at least, died as peacefully as anybody can. It may not have been pleasant, or timely, but at least it wasn’t to serve a power. Just bad luck.
…
Get him away from that grandmother of his if you can, will you?
JON
One of us will.
ANNABELLE
That’s all I ask.
JON
Well, I—I suppose, in light of all that’s happened…it’s the least I can do.
ANNABELLE
You believe me, then?
JON
It happened. It’s over.
Whether once or a hundred times…it happened the way you said at least once. And we won. That’s enough for me.
…Yes, Annabelle Cane, I believe you.
ANNABELLE
For what it’s worth, Jon, you did all the hard work on your own. You and Martin, and…the others. In your time and this. All I did was get you here.
JON
The others…
(sharp intake of breath) Oh, God. The Unknowing. Has it—have they—I-I can’t, even if we were in the Panopticon, I couldn’t See it. But you—there, there were tapes.
Are they…?
ANNABELLE
That one. I think.
JON
You think?
ANNABELLE
It added itself to the web just before you got here. It’s either theirs or yours.
[BRIEF PAUSE, THEN THE SQUEAL OF TAPE BEFORE A RECORDING PICKS UP - FAINT CIRCUS MUSIC, THUMPS AND TAPS THAT MIGHT BE SOME KIND OF FOOTSTEP, FLOORBOARDS CREAKING, SHALLOW BREATHING, FABRIC RUSTLES]
PRESENT ARCHIVIST ON TAPE
I love you.
PRESENT MARTIN ON TAPE
I love you.
TIM ON TAPE
I love you.
Tell me when.
[DEEP BREATH]
PRESENT ARCHIVIST ON TAPE
Three…two…one…
[MORE FABRIC RUSTLES, DETONATOR CLICKS, EXPLOSION BEGINS BEFORE ABRUPTLY CUTTING OFF]
JON
Oh, God.
ANNABELLE
And to think I thought you had a terrible sense of timing.
JON
At least they said something before—
O-oh, God, Tim. Tim—you know as well as I do that in my time, he—and I—were they all in the middle of that?
ANNABELLE
More or less.
They didn’t walk into the Unknowing, at least. Martin listened to what you told him and wouldn’t let them open any doors. But it had to be blown up from the inside to be sure of getting all the charges. Your counterpart and Martin’s wouldn’t leave Tim behind, however much he tried to make them.
JON
What happened after that?
ANNABELLE
I don’t know if there is an after that yet.
JON
And we’re back to the cryptic bullshit.
ANNABELLE
On the contrary. I said exactly what I meant.
We aren’t exactly anywhere right now, or any when. This…place…I wouldn’t call it a domain, but it exists outside of both time and space. The rules are different here. Time, if it passes at all, passes differently.
They might have just pressed the detonator. They might have pressed it hours ago, or days ago.
JON
(dismayed) Days?
ANNABELLE
All I can say is that wherever, whenever they are, they are out of reach of my tapes. And your sight.
Fortunately…I know someone who can give us those answers, even from here. Maybe especially from here.
JON
Who else is here, for God’s sake?
[ANNABELLE SINGS THE NEXT LINE IN THE SAME SLOW, MEASURED VOICE AS BEFORE]
ANNABELLE
Two elephants went out to play
Upon a spider’s web one day
They had such enormous fun
They called for another elephant to come…
[STICKY FOOTSTEPS APPROACH OVER THE TAPE WEB]
OLIVER
Hello, Jon. It is all right if I call you Jon?
JON
…Oliver? Oliver Banks?
OLIVER
In the…well. In the manifestation, I suppose. I don’t know if any of us is here in the flesh.
JON
(disbelieving laugh) You’re…not quite what I expected.
OLIVER
Is that an invitation for me to comment about how Death so rarely is what we expect, or a manifestation of you wondering why Martin would possibly be jealous of someone like me?
ANNABELLE
If you knew either of them a little better, you’d know Martin’s reasons for being jealous are almost entirely in his head.
Also, he’s never met you.
OLIVER
Mm, true. We always seemed to miss one another.
JON
You—hold on. You’re from the future as well?
OLIVER
Like you and Annabelle. Well, more like Annabelle, I suppose. You had to be the Pupil of the Eye before you were tangled enough to get dragged back with the Fears. Me? Without Terminus, I’m just…dead. And we’ve already established that that’s not where I want to be.
JON
…Did you know? When you came to the hospital?
OLIVER
That we’d done this before? Of course. I long ago stopped being surprised at what you would choose.
JON
Then for God’s sake, why—
OLIVER
Because you had to choose, Jon. It was always your choice.
Think of it as a crossroads. You stood at a fork in the road, where one path would take you back to life and the other would take you on to, well, whatever came next. The trouble was that the signposts were covered.
You could have chosen without knowing which path was which, but that’s not your way. Not when you know enough to know that one was…mm, wrong, shall we say? One would have led you where you wanted to be, one where you didn’t.
JON
I didn’t want to die.
OLIVER
There’s a difference between not wanting to die and having something to live for.
JON
(deep breath) Right, well, I definitely have something to live for, so I’ll be going now.
Uh, how do I get out of here?
OLIVER
Ordinarily? You don’t.
JON
What?!
OLIVER
This is Terminus’s realm. Well, sort of. A little pocket on the outside edge of it.
JON
Another crossroads.
OLIVER
Mm, not so much. More that you’re standing in the middle of the path.
JON
So which way is back?
OLIVER
Life is a journey traveled in one direction only.
JON
(tartly) Yes, well, so is time, but here we all are.
I’ve already chosen to live, Oliver. (with slight malice) Can I call you Oliver?
OLIVER
(not rising to the bait) This isn’t a place where you get to choose.
JON
…So you’re saying that’s it.
After all that, after everything I—everything we did…this is the end. There’s nowhere else for me to go.
ANNABELLE
How many times have you walked out of another entity’s domain? Not counting the Apocalypse. We’ve already talked about how that doesn’t count.
JON
I…twice. The Buried and the Lonely.
Three, I suppose, if that crossroads counts.
OLIVER
That was a metaphor. You were close to Death, but not its realm. If that makes sense.
JON
Not really.
ANNABELLE
The Buried and the Lonely, then.
What brought you out?
JON
From the Buried, it was the—the tapes…it was Martin putting those tapes on top of the coffin. W-weaving me a rope…or a ladder.
The Lonely was simple enough to leave. The way out was together.
ANNABELLE
With Martin.
JON
…Yes.
ANNABELLE
Exactly.
Not all strands of a spider’s web are to capture or to control, you know. Sometimes, they are simply…to anchor.
JON
…
…That’s why you offered to bind me to Martin. It wasn’t about—it wasn’t for strength or power at all.
ANNABELLE
Not to defeat Jonah Magnus, no. There’s more than one kind of strength, more than one kind of power. I did tell you that you would need it to survive what was coming.
JON
It brought Martin back when Peter Lukas visited the Archives and he almost got swallowed by the Lonely again. It—it grounded me, kept me from losing control while I was taking down Jonah.
And now…
ANNABELLE
It can guide you home.
[OLIVER LAUGHS]
OLIVER
You know, people always talk about some legendary “red string of fate”, but I’ve never actually seen a real one before.
Let alone one woven from cassette tape.
JON
You knew I had that tether from the beginning.
OLIVER
Truthfully, I didn’t think it would work. Plenty of people have things they think are tying them to life, but they aren’t strong enough to resist the pull. Most threads snap.
JON
Not this one.
I made Martin a promise. And I never break my word.
OLIVER
A good thing, when your tether is almost literally made out of your words.
JON
Ha, ha.
…Wait. B-before I go…the Unknowing. Are they—she said you would know.
OLIVER
It’s over. It worked. They brought the house down.
A lot of tormented souls set free, all at once. Quite the rush, really.
JON
The three of them—my counterpart and Martin’s and Tim. What happened to them?
[OLIVER SIGHS]
OLIVER
Two of them will be fine. Some cuts and bruises, but they’ll be up and about sooner rather than later. They might already be up and about. Time’s difficult to discern here.
The other…I suspect I’m going to need to pay a visit at some point. Clean off those signposts.
JON
Don’t wait six months.
OLIVER
I shouldn’t be more than a couple weeks behind you.
JON
…That’s less comforting than you think it is.
OLIVER
Then it must be terrifying, because I was definitely going for ominous.
[JON SIGHS…AND LAUGHS RELUCTANTLY; ANNABELLE AND OLIVER LAUGH TOO]
JON
I suppose we’ll meet again, Annabelle.
ANNABELLE
…No. No, I don’t think we will.
JON
Tired of me already?
ANNABELLE
I was watching them for you. Not just through the tapes. I was lurking in a corner of that room.
I don’t know that I made it out.
OLIVER
(gently) You didn’t, I’m afraid.
Your choices are more limited. Stay here with your web…or see what comes next.
[A SHORT PAUSE]
JON
We’ll keep the recorders going.
In case you’re still listening.
ANNABELLE
…Tell Charlie his aunt loves him very much.
JON
I will.
Oliver…don’t take this the wrong way, but if I ever see you again, it will be too soon.
OLIVER
Death always comes too soon.
JON
That was definitely not meant for that aspect of you.
OLIVER
Fair.
ANNABELLE
Have a good life, Jon.
You and Martin deserve it.
JON
If I may borrow from another…may you find your rest where no shadows are cast, and no eyes may see you slumber.
ANNABELLE
(audibly smiling) From you, Jon, that is a true blessing.
[DEEP BREATH]
JON
Right. Hold on, Martin.
I’m coming home.
[CLICK]