Part 43 "The Witch"

 PART 43: THE WITCH
Transcripts made + edited by jack

CWs: attempted murder, sounds of gore/blood, coughing/retching noises, insect (maggots) noises, knife violence, gaslighting, gun violence, character death, implied trafficking/rape, child abuse, implied infanticide

(BEGIN Part 43.)

 

(A distant echo. A voice is heavily distorted. Unintelligible whispers rise in the background and grow louder.)

 

UNKNOWN VOICE: He turns left… he moves forward… we cannot see… there… there he is! He runs quickly… he knows you’ve found him… he is almost here. Wait! Where did he… yes, there… he is coming! Right into our trap… he is coming… he is here…

 

(Arthur’s whimpers of fear. A creature growls in the background.)

 

YORICK: This is her home. She has built this labyrinth with magic. And will. 

 

ARTHUR (terrified): Oh, fuck!

 

(A scrape of metal.)

 

YORICK: She is coming. She is…

 

(Another scrape of metal, and Arthur’s gag of pain. The sound of gore and blood.)

 

YORICK: Here. 

 

(Arthur makes noises of pain. Another scrape of metal. Heavy footfalls and a final thud.) 

 

YORICK: He is unable to hear you. Yes, barely. But she will keep him alive, as it suits her children to have warm flesh to feast upon. (The witch grunts.) I believe… she is wondering what I am. (The rattling of metal.) 

 

WITCH: My… prince.

 

YORICK: Indeed, queen! Or, what remains. 

 

WITCH: You… He… ruined you. (She coughs raggedly.) 

 

YORICK: Your children survived, my queen! They scour the skies above, as they always have. Why…?

 

WITCH: Why… what?

 

YORICK: I do not belong to anyone. 

 

WITCH: Whom do you speak to?

 

YORICK: Very well. I speak with the voice within the man at your feet. 

 

WITCH: The voice?

 

YORICK: I did as you asked. (The witch pants audibly. The sound of shifting soil.) She is taking the body back to her lair!

 

WITCH: What a curious thing… you have become. What do they call you?

 

YORICK: Yorick, my queen. 

 

WITCH: Yorick? For what purpose?

 

YORICK: I know not. (The witch coughs.) I do not believe he is listening. Your calls go unanswered.

 

WITCH: Whom does this voice call for?

 

YORICK: A powerful being, of immen – (A short pause.) My apologies. 

 

WITCH: You align with this voice, do you?

 

YORICK: I… I align myself, with what suits best. 

 

WITCH: And what are you, Yorick? What were you, before? 

 

YORICK: Some called me… Vanguard.

 

WITCH: A Vanguard? Curious. (The rattling of metal. The witch grunts in exertion. A soft thump.) 

 

YORICK: Yes, but it was far too rotten, by then. (The witch pants.) I believe so. Yes, if… fresh enough.

 

WITCH: This… voice, my prince. It speaks to you and this… man? 

 

(Footfalls.) 

 

YORICK: Yes. Whatever… 

 

WITCH: Does it lie to you, prince? 

 

YORICK (purposefully): Yes. 

 

WITCH: We shall find out. (The clattering of metal to the floor.)

 

YORICK: I do not know. 

 

WITCH (amidst rummaging): Hair of craven child… water of the womb… (Pouring liquid.) Two… touches… a silent breath, no spoken word, allow all silent voices heard –

 

(A soft magical whoosh.) 

 

JOHN: …fulfills that side of it. (A slow piano melody begins.) I still have control of my hand. There is a way out of here, through these tunnels. I’ll get her to tell me, and once we do, I can –

 

YORICK: I believe she can hear you now.

 

JOHN: What?

 

WITCH: And? What are you?

 

JOHN (in shock): What? (Desperately.) Let us go. Please. 

 

WITCH (panting): Why?

 

JOHN: We have… a task. A very difficult one. Surely you must – (A short pause. In frustration.)  L-Look at our clothes! Our bag, there. Clearly it’s not from this time.

 

WITCH: Is this true, prince? 

 

YORICK: Yes, my queen. They are from a different place.

 

WITCH: How wondrous. What task is it that you… must achieve? 

 

JOHN: We must find something called… the Blackstone. 

 

WITCH: Strange, to find a man… such as this in my home. (She hacks and coughs.) Stranger still, to find him accompanied by such… unusual beings. Tell me. Who are you?

 

JOHN: I… I am… I… (With effort.) I am the King in Yellow. (Ominous music begins.) Hastur. He Who Is Not to be Named. (Voice distortion and echoing.) Lord of Carcosa. I rule the Dreamlands and I… alone own this mortal flesh! I demand you leave him be! 

 

WITCH: Who? (Slow, thudding footsteps.) 

 

YORICK: I believe she does not know who you are, my King. 

 

JOHN: I-I… you know nothing of the world beyond this?

 

WITCH: I suppose I do not. 

 

(John makes a frustrated noise. More footsteps, and the sound of rummaging.)

 

JOHN: What is she… I… can’t… Arthur hasn’t turned his head to see. W-What is she…?

 

YORICK: She is going through your bag, my King.

 

JOHN: Stop! Stop that! 

 

WITCH: What presence you dare to command yourself with. Such… ego.  (More rummaging.)

 

JOHN: I… demand you!

 

WITCH (fiercely): You demand nothing. (John exhales.) You… have taken from me. You have entered into my home and my world. I care not where you are from. I care not what or whom you claim to be. You are mine, now. And I will do with you as I see fit… including, retrieving my talisman.

 

YORICK: She continues to search the bag! 

 

JOHN: I know. Listen! For a moment. I am the King in Yellow. From a world beyond dreams. (Clattering.)

 

WITCH: What is this? (Metal clattering.)

 

JOHN: It’s a shaving kit. Listen!  (More rummaging.)

 

WITCH: And this?

 

JOHN: A Crystallizer of Dreams. You can have it, if you –

 

WITCH: These are mine. As is your host’s flesh. To bear more of my young.

 

JOHN: They are not. I… am a god, witch! 

 

WITCH: You are no god.

 

JOHN (distorted, echoing): You dare doubt me!? (Normal.) L-Look through that mask! (Rummaging.) That one! There! (The witch exhales sharply.) Look at me. Look at me!

 

WITCH: You attempt to deceive me.

 

JOHN: I do no such thing. Look at this man through the eyes of that mask. What do you see?

 

YORICK: King, are you sure that –

 

JOHN: Do it. (A stretching noise. Rising suspenseful music. A slow piano melody begins.)

 

YORICK: She looks through the mask, my King. What do you see, my queen? 

 

WITCH: You are not… you are no god I have witnessed.

 

YORICK: Ah.

 

JOHN: No. But I am a god. 

 

WITCH: Perhaps you are. (John exhales.) But that matters not. (More rummaging.) What is this?

 

JOHN: That… is of Leng. An alien creation. 

 

WITCH: Its purpose?

 

JOHN: It allows… It allows you to seek out what you desire. A destination. (More rummaging. The scrape of metal.) 

 

WITCH: How does a king become trapped inside mortal flesh?

 

JOHN: What does that matter? 

 

WITCH: Very well. (More rummaging.) 

 

YORICK: She continues to inspect our items. I do not see a way –

 

JOHN: The Great Old Ones. The ancient beings that rule over all. Gods of the void beyond space and time, and… 

 

YORICK: She pauses, my King. 

 

WITCH: You… are one of what they worship? The men at Castle Kerringford?

 

JOHN: I… I don’t know. Perhaps. We’re not from this time, q… queen.

 

WITCH: Ah. I have heard of your kind. I’ve heard these men scream the names of your… brethren in the dark tunnels as my children consume their flesh. These gods are… old. 

 

JOHN: Older than you can imagine. Eons before your… earthly gods. Beyond time’s measure. When language had no meaning, or… or use! And power was shown in the deletion of a planet! Not the whispering of words.

 

WITCH: And you claim to be a Great Old One? 

 

JOHN: I am! 

 

WITCH: And yet. You moan on a table, beneath my knife. Trapped in this… vessel. How? 

 

JOHN: How? I-I… 

 

WITCH: If you do not tell me, I have no doubt Yorick will.

 

YORICK: Happily, my queen. He de –

 

JOHN: I… (He sighs in frustration. The Witch exhales. A slow piano melody begins.) As the King in Yellow, I ruled over the Dreamlands. Though my memory of that untold time is hazy, I know… I assume that I was enticed by the notion of entering your world. This… dimension. And when an opportunity arose to do so, I took it. A gateway from my world to yours. But when I did, it closed midway through my transition, and I was severed. One piece of me remained in the Dreamlands. The other became trapped inside this… body.

 

WITCH: Surely… a powerful being such as yourself… was no match for a mere mortal?

 

JOHN (annoyed): Had I my memories, yes! Perhaps. (Normally.) Even now, I have found new power that I didn’t know existed. In time, even more could be possible. But for what I knew, I was trapped. So I’ve fought against him.

 

WITCH: Fought? He is mortal. You show very little of the power you claim to have.

 

JOHN: I fought him when I needed to! Our goals were aligned. He needed me and I was hopeful to separate our bodies.

 

WITCH: You lie.

 

JOHN: I do not!

 

WITCH: You do! You speak of this flesh as if it were your own. You care for it. Tell me, Yorick. Speak the truth.

 

YORICK: He most definitely does, my queen!

 

JOHN (angrily): God damn it, fine! (Normally.) Listen. Yes. At first, this… antagonistic creature drove me mad to no end. But… something happened during this time, during my time with humans… and I began to… feel… remorse. Regret. I… connected, with him. That alone wasn’t enough to make me question who I am! 

 

But… then… then I was shown… compassion. (A gentle piano melody begins.) Love, even, by a… nurse. A woman, who… cared for me. And I… I… I became attracted to the notion of… humanity. 

 

WITCH: This woman cared for you?

 

JOHN: Yes. 

 

WITCH: Lies! She cared for your mortal!

 

JOHN: Yes, yes, but… (He huffs.) She spoke to me!

 

WITCH: She spoke to the man you were trapped within! You gained humanity as a prisoner.

 

JOHN: No! No, it wasn’t like that.

 

WITCH: You did not escape. You have become… complacent. 

 

JOHN: He couldn’t hear her! I was the one who received her care, her kindness, her –

 

WITCH: Intended for another!

 

JOHN: What does that matter!? She knew no difference between me or him! She knew nothing of the soul that heard her, whether it was… (He sighs in frustration.) It was the same care. The same… compassion. 

 

WITCH: Oh. And so. (Rummaging.) 

 

JOHN: A-A-And so, I-I felt a change in me. Perhaps… because of the bond, with this human. Perhaps because I… was simply done with the prospect of having no real… desire. And so I-I began to attempt humanity. 

 

WITCH: Ah. (More rummaging.) What is this? (Fluttering of pages.)

 

JOHN: I-It’s a bestiary, of sorts.

 

(Slow page turning.) 

 

WITCH: Did your attempt work?

 

JOHN: Yes, I think so. 

 

(The book shuts.)

 

WITCH: How?

 

JOHN: Well, in a moment of… when everything we had together was almost lost, I… I-I gave myself over to the King, again. So my friend would live. A self-sacrifice that –

 

(Footsteps.) 

 

WITCH: That is no sacrifice. You are the King!

 

JOHN: You don’t know. You have no idea! (He sighs.) That cost me everything, I –

 

WITCH: You know nothing of true sacrifice. Your bedtime story of humanity is naive at best! And broken at its core. I know humanity more than you or this mortal flesh ever will. 

 

JOHN: You!? 

 

WITCH: Humanity is rotted to its core. It is a sick jest of noble intentions. An infested wound under wrappings. A failed gambit, made by kinds like yours. I have seen true humanity and it is not the virtuous mask you claim it to be. 

 

JOHN: You’re wrong. 

 

WITCH: My mother was born Anais Lachlann, given as an oblate to the Benedictine monastery in Loiret. She was six years old. Beaten. Tortured. Even at a young age, my mother knew this world was designed for the devils. So much so, that when she became pregnant, she threw her child into the river to be washed away. To die in the mud and the filth and the maggots. True sacrifice. I found my true mother there, in the rot. Mother Darkness… comforted me. 

 

Though the bugs had all but eaten my flesh, she allowed them to give me life. And in return, I give them life back. Humanity… as you so proudly proclaim a blessing, is a curse to the living. And a blight on this world. Now. Where is it? Where is my talisman?

 

JOHN: I won’t tell you.

 

(A slow piano melody begins.)

 

WITCH: No? Yorick.

 

YORICK: My queen!

 

JOHN (overlapping): Don’t! Don’t tell her anything.

 

YORICK: Ah. My queen… I cannot. 

 

WITCH: How dare you. Who do you think you belong to now, prince?

 

YORICK: I…

 

(Slow footsteps.)

 

WITCH: Who cared for you? Who… loved you? Who… still loves you? 

 

(Flies buzzing.)

 

JOHN: Yorick! Please. 

 

YORICK: I cannot. My queen. 

 

WITCH: What honor you still retain in that rotting skull, my prince. (One footstep.) So. Tell me, King. What came of your sacrifice? What came of your decision to embrace your humanity?

 

JOHN: I-I… 

 

WITCH: Tell me. 

 

JOHN: I was reunited with the King, but could no longer live as I once did, I was… changed. I fought him, that part of myself… tooth and nail. And then… as a result, I was… cast… into the Dark World. 

 

WITCH (questioning): The Dark… World?

 

YORICK: Death for the undying. Hell, for all things that –

 

WITCH (understanding): Ah. Rewards for humanity. 

 

JOHN: I didn’t expect a reward. I –

 

WITCH: And what did you do there, King? Clearly, you found your way out. 

 

(A slow piano melody begins.)

 

JOHN: I… 

 

WITCH: Tell me. You want to. 

 

JOHN (faltering): It wasn’t… 

 

WITCH: You cannot even admit it to yourself. Hell brings about the truth in people.

 

JOHN: That’s not true! What I did there… 

 

WITCH: What you did? What was that?

 

JOHN (hesitantly): I… I fought the King, because I was… because I thought I… I had found my humanity. But… in the Dark World, I… realized… just how fragile that humanity was. 

 

WITCH (drawn out): Yes. Yes. I’m sure you did. 

 

JOHN: I was trapped there… for a long, long time. And I… embraced what I had rejected from the King. The irony is not lost on me. And I found myself… with a new kingdom, of sorts. 

 

WITCH: Once a King.

 

JOHN: The Dark World thrives on fear! The land itself seems to… exist to cause pain. It feeds those with a vicious mind. And I ate… (Darkly.) Well.

 

WITCH: Of course you did. It’s who you are: a king. Such a being as yourself… playing human is only a facade.

 

JOHN (growing in intensity): No. No. No. That’s not true. Y-You don’t know what you’re talking about. It didn’t… I lost myself, yes. But only for a time. Until I hit… bedrock. Until I realized what I had become. Then, then I made a deal to come back.

 

WITCH: How?

 

JOHN: There are beings far more powerful than you and I. Such as… Such as the being that has tasked us with this mission.

 

WITCH: The Blackstone?

 

JOHN: Yes, yes. Yes. Have you heard of it?

 

WITCH: Perhaps. But of what matter is it to you?

 

JOHN: That’s our business.

 

WITCH: Our? Again, you speak of ‘our’. You are so much more than the sum of these parts. From what you have told me, you are simply… (Momentary whispers.) Lost. 

 

JOHN (confused): Lost? (‘Lost’ begins.) 

 

WITCH: You strive for humanity, like a child. Looking for a parent. But to what end? You are so much more… look at you, now. Trapped. Dead to the world. Silent to all, but those who can hear. (Footsteps.) Is this… humanity? 

 

JOHN: I…

 

WITCH: You had an existence. For eons, you said. And now, you are content to be… forgotten. 

 

JOHN (quietly): I am not forgotten. Not by him. And not by… 

 

WITCH: Who? Who else? (John huffs.)

 

YORICK: I remember you, my King! 

 

WITCH: You return to this Dark World… having lost your humanity… and hit bedrock. What did your companion say? What did he think when you told him?

 

JOHN: I… I didn’t…. (The witch cackles raspily.) I told him I didn’t remember. Instead, I watched him hit his bedrock. I watched him turn into the very thing I despised about myself while in the Dark World. The very thing I rejected when I was reunited with the King, the – the very thing I made my goal to escape from!

 

WITCH: That’s more befitting.

 

JOHN (quickly): Except I didn’t give up on him. I pulled him back from the edge. I… I couldn’t let him fall, like that. I couldn’t watch him lose what I had tried so desperately to gain back. I… I saved him.

 

WITCH: You did so? So you did not have to see him act in a way that reminded you of yourself.

 

JOHN: Fuck you, I did what was right! He knew it!

 

WITCH: By lying to him!

 

JOHN: I did, yes. Yes. And more than that, I… felt like I… lied to myself. 

 

WITCH (a slow exhale): And where did this… lying lead you?

 

JOHN: W-Well. Where we left… because I had to fulfill my deal. Which… ultimately led to more lies, yes, but. I had to, and… and perhaps things… and perhaps things didn’t improve, I suppose. But… 

 

I… I began to feel angry. Trapped, in the lies, unable to speak about what had happened in the Dark World, and… and I became… resentful. I felt forgotten. 

 

I wasn’t sure if my memory was fading because of my time in the Dark World. Perhaps it was affecting me, or… or I was meant to be back there. And I felt… lost. And in my weakest moment, I… I tried to kill a man who I felt was in my way. 

 

WITCH (pleased): Ah. So there is hope for you, yet.

 

JOHN: Hope, for me? These were brought on through the manifestations of my guilt! Can’t you see that?

 

WITCH (flatly): Guilt made you kill a man?

 

JOHN: No, you’re twisting my words!

 

WITCH: Am I?

 

JOHN: He called me a child! Yes, the guilt made me angry, and my lack of understanding, my inexperience with these emotions, my –

 

WITCH: Inexperience? You are eons old. This… This mortal is the child. You are the Old One, are you not?

 

JOHN: Yes, but – 

 

WITCH: But you felt anger. And wanted to kill again. This… is your nature. Your purpose. A Great Old One needs not the weakness of humanity. 

 

JOHN: No. No, I was losing my memory! Because of Yellow, and –

 

WITCH: Yellow?

 

JOHN: The King! Had too become trapped in another, which led to a confrontation –

 

WITCH: But you did not become whole again?

 

JOHN: No. No. No, my friendship saved me. My connection to this man. My love for Arthur saved… me. (‘Faroe's Goodbye’ begins.) You see? My humanity saved me. 

 

WITCH: From what!?

 

JOHN: From what, from – from what I was! From being a monster! Like you! 

 

WITCH: But you are a monster. And have been for time untold. 

 

JOHN: I’m… I’m not. (Shakily.) I’m… John, I… I’m my own! Entirely my own. 

 

(Footsteps.)

 

WITCH: You introduced yourself as the King in Yellow. Did you not? 

 

JOHN (stuttering): I suppose so, y –

 

WITCH: You still covet the title. 

 

JOHN: Yes, but –

 

WITCH: Do you miss being the King, even now?

 

JOHN: Look, I’ll admit, I was… tempted for a moment, perhaps. Before we arrived here, t-the prospect… the reminder of who I was, yes. Yes, it was appealing, but – but not any longer. 

 

WITCH: Because of this… flesh.

 

JOHN: Yes. Because of this flesh.

 

WITCH: I understand. Allow me to help. 

 

JOHN: How? (‘Faroe's Song’ begins. The scrape of metal. Repeated sounds of gore. Screaming.) No! No! (Repeated stabbings. John’s sounds of fear.) 

 

WITCH (out of breath): There. You are free, once again! (A clattering.)

 

(John falls silent.) 

 

YORICK: He is dead, my King. 

 

JOHN (breathing heavily): How dare you!? (Otherworldly wooshes as John grunts in exertion. Suspenseful music begins.)

 

YORICK (amidst John’s noises) My King! You manifest! 

 

JOHN (furious): I will tear you limb from limb! I will devour you whole and burn every one of your children alive!

 

WITCH: You see… I have freed you. 

 

JOHN (passionately): I will destroy everything you have come to love! Just as you have taken it from me! (He roars.) You have drawn the ire of the King in Yellow and, for that, you will be flayed! I commanded you not to and you –

 

WITCH: You do not command me, King. (Footsteps.) You have far less power here than you realize. 

 

JOHN: You have no idea what you have awoken! 

 

(Wood scraping, glass clinking, liquids pouring.)

 

YORICK: My King! She does not fear you! (John makes noises of exertion.)

 

WITCH: Begone. Now.

 

(A slow piano melody begins.) 

 

JOHN: You will not… (An electric crackle, and otherworldly wooshes.) What… how… 

 

(John groans, as if in pain.)

 

YORICK: My King! You fade! (John breathes heavily.)

 

WITCH: Hold your power here.

 

JOHN: You…

 

WITCH: I fear you not.

 

(A woosh and an electric crackle.)

 

JOHN (normally): How did you…

 

WITCH: I may be mortal here, and in most ways, but I control the magics in this hovel. The walls, the stairs. (Glass clattering.) This is my domain, King. You are in my home that I’ve created. (Footsteps. A wooden scrape.) But… I can release you. I am glad you have come to see my side of things. 

 

JOHN (panting): I… I… (Emotionally.) Arthur… 

 

YORICK: He is gone, my King. 

 

(A gentle melody begins.) 

 

JOHN: I’m… I’m still here. I’m… 

 

WITCH (softly): You thrive, King, do you not see how limited you were with him? How much… more you are without him? 

 

JOHN (shakily): But I… But I am… alone.

 

WITCH: You were always alone. We are… all alone.

 

JOHN: But Arthur, he… he made me believe, and… I changed because of him. 

 

WITCH: You believed your desire to change came from this mortal?

 

JOHN: Yes. 

 

WITCH: Then why did you leave the Dreamlands?

 

JOHN: What?

 

WITCH: Before becoming bound to this flesh, before taking this name, ‘John’, you told me that, as the King, you exited your realm to enter this one. 

 

JOHN: Yes.

 

WITCH: Why? (A pause.) If you are so convinced the only reason you changed, that you desire to change, was because of this man… then why did you leave your kingdom in the first place?

 

JOHN: I… I don’t know. I don’t know. 

 

WITCH: You have always been, and will always be. You do not change.

 

JOHN: I… I have always… been…

 

WITCH: You have persevered without this flesh, without this… hope.

 

JOHN (confused): Hope?

 

WITCH: That is what this is about. You’ve become… attracted to the notion, the idea that hope is in the heart of humanity, or what you believe is humanity. This… poorly drawn illusion to goodness. I despise it. It stands for everything I am against. It is all that I desire to destroy. 

 

You believe there is a happy ending. But this… (Footsteps. A sound of patting.) This is your happy ending. A bleeding corpse of a man you called ‘friend’. This man is dead. He is an empty shell of what you remember. That is all that is left. A memory. He is gone. He is nothing more than food for my maggots. This is what your hope has brought. (Metal clanking.)

 

JOHN: What are you…

 

WITCH: Giving your friend a final purpose. (Footsteps.)

 

JOHN (quickly): No.

 

YORICK: She is drawing the knife up, my King!

 

JOHN: No.

 

YORICK: And – (The scrape of metal. The sound of gore.) 

 

JOHN: No! Please. 

 

(Continued sounds of gore.) 

 

YORICK: She has cut his belly open, below where she had just stabbed multiple –

 

JOHN: Please!

 

WITCH: Have you tired of this game, finally?

 

JOHN: Game?

 

WITCH: This role you’ve been playing. Your time pretending to care.

 

JOHN: No.

 

WITCH: To hope.

 

JOHN: Listen.

 

WITCH: To believe in humanity.

 

JOHN: P-Please, don’t!

 

WITCH: Your friend’s body will be a home for my children.

 

JOHN: Not like this.

 

WITCH: You’ll see the new life he helps grow… within… his… belly. 

 

(Continued sounds of gore. The rustling of insects.) 

 

JOHN (begging): No! No! Please. Please. 

 

WITCH: You know what I seek.

 

JOHN: I-I don’t –

 

WITCH: You do. Enough games.

 

JOHN: I-I don’t understand. 

 

WITCH: Once this body is gone…

 

JOHN: The talisman, i-is, is that –

 

WITCH: Truly gone.

 

JOHN: I-I’m trying to…

 

WITCH: Will you finally see… will you finally see…!

 

JOHN (loudly): O-Okay, fine, fine! Fine, fine. (Sounds of gore and insects stop, replaced by occasional dripping.)  Y-You’re right, you’re right. (‘Faroe’s Song’ begins.) Y-You were right. I-Is that what you want to hear? I… I am a liar, I-I am naive, I’m… I’m wrong! 

 

WITCH: No. 

 

JOHN: What?

 

WITCH: No. No. No, no. You misunderstand. (A slow melody begins.) I don’t wish you to be defeated. I am not this man. I wish to give you strength. To see strength in you, as I imagine you once were. 

 

JOHN: What?

 

WITCH: You… are more than this. I do not wish to see you bound to this flesh or bound to these ignorant false morals. These… short-sighted platitudes! You do not need this… other half. You can be complete. I wish to make you whole again.

 

JOHN: Whole?

 

WITCH: Let me make you whole, again.

 

JOHN: I-I… I… I understand. (A slow melody starts.) You’re telling me that the choice I made, perhaps in taking the name ‘John’, choosing humanity, c-choosing hope… was… a mistake. 

 

(Heavy footsteps.) 

 

WITCH: You… are so much more than this… human name. These human morals. These decisions you’ve made not only to limit what you could be, but what you… are. You are the King in Yellow. Hastur. Lord of Carcosa. You are a Great Old One, a being of power enough to manifest outside this dead body. To exist within it still… and yet you choose to limit yourself in almost every conceivable way. 

 

You have decided to be something that robs the world of its King. (Footsteps. The witch breathes heavily.)

 

JOHN: You are… right. He is dead. I am alone, again. As I always have been.

 

WITCH: Yes. 

 

JOHN: Hope is meaningless.

 

WITCH: Yes. 

 

JOHN: I choose to become whole… again. 

 

WITCH (softer): Yes. 

 

JOHN: I am…

 

WITCH: Say it. Mean it. 

 

JOHN: I am… (Distorted.) The King… in Yellow. (Ominous music starts.)

 

WITCH (whispering): Yes.

 

YORICK: Hail, to the King. (Footsteps.)

 

JOHN: Can you… Can you find me a new body? 

 

WITCH: Of course. This one will be yours. And many other things for you, my King. 

 

JOHN: So be it. I convinced Arthur to hide the talisman, thinking it would spare his life.

 

WITCH: A valiant effort.

 

JOHN: I don’t remember exactly where he left it, though. (The witch exhales.) But the object of Leng will help me find it. (WITCH: Ah.) Grab it. (Footsteps. Rummaging.) There. (A metal click. A mysterious melody begins.) Hold it up to your head.

 

YORICK: The other way, my queen!

 

WITCH: T-This? (Metal clicking.)

 

JOHN: Yes. And look through it. 

 

WITCH: It is dark.

 

JOHN: Yes. You’ll need to hold it… no. It… there. Now. Think of the object you desire to find.

 

WITCH: Yes.

 

JOHN: Do you have it, in your mind’s eye?

 

WITCH: Yes.

 

JOHN: Close your eyes. Envision its shape, its color.

 

WITCH: Yes.

 

JOHN: Its size.

 

WITCH (eagerly): Yes!

 

(Rising suspenseful music.)

 

JOHN: Do you have it?

 

WITCH: Yes, my king.

 

JOHN: Excellent. Now… squeeze. 

 

WITCH: Wonderful. (A gunshot. The sound of gore and dripping blood. ‘Faroe’s Song’ begins.)

 

JOHN: Only I decide who I am.

 

YORICK: Excellent deception, my King. 

 

JOHN (shakily): Yorick. We need to get him back.

 

YORICK: Of course. I assumed that was your plan.

 

JOHN: But the amulet! I-I don’t know how to –

 

YORICK: Leave that to me, my King! (Yorick makes noises of exertion. The creaking of wood.)

 

JOHN: Yorick! W-What are you… Yorick, you’re going to fall off the… (A thump. A fleshy noise, followed by otherworldly humming.) Yorick! God damn it, Yorick. Are you okay? Answer me! Yorick. (Heavy footsteps.) The witch. She… She’s rising, she’s alive! We, We didn’t –

 

YORICK (somewhat garbled): Worry not, my King. It is me, Yorick!

 

JOHN: Yorick?

 

(A whimsical tune begins.)

 

YORICK: I have bitten her with my tooth and now control her, like this head. (Dripping gore.)

 

JOHN: Jesus. Go! G-Go get the talisman! Quickly!

 

YORICK: Right away, my King! 

 

(Yorick’s noises of exertion and heavy footsteps.)

 

JOHN (out of breath): Arthur… Arthur, I-I… I know you can’t hear me right now. I-I don’t know if you’re in the Dark World, or… (He sighs.) We… we’ve had so many… chances to… (A slow piano melody begins.) I… I… I need to tell you… Arthur. (He sighs.) What she said. A lot of what she said. I-Is true.

 

I spent a long time unsure of what I am. Whether I am just a fragment of the King in Yellow, always with a streak of evil through my veins. A monster to millions and-and worse to more! Or… if I am striving to be human… am I… better than that? T-To aim to be a force for good in this world. 

 

(A gentle, fast melody begins.) I’ve struggled for a long time to understand what I am. Which I am to be. But I know now. I’m neither good nor evil. I’m both. I can’t hold myself to the ideals of humanity, let alone a single human. I cannot… fit into your version of what I must be. Equally, I can never return to what I was. Nor do I want to. But I can, and I will… let go of what no longer serves me. 

 

I am entirely my own. I have been, and will always be. And when given the choice, I choose hope. And I choose you. To be a part of you. Together, we are whole. And I think you know that, too. Our friendship… (Metal clanging. Yorick’s noises of exertion.) It’s… It’s saved us both. 

 

YORICK: My King!

 

JOHN: You have it? Here, here. Put it on the… yes, yes. Do you remember how she used it? On the prince?

 

YORICK: Yes. 

 

JOHN: A-And he’s not too rotten? H-He’s still fresh, like you said.

 

YORICK: I believe he will be revived, just as normal. 

 

JOHN: Okay. Oh – wait! Wait. Scoop out these… maggots. Out of his stomach. (The noises of gore and insects.) A-A-And the sewing kit, in the bag, you need –

 

YORICK: I know many things, my King. 

 

(A lighthearted melody begins.) 

 

JOHN: Thank you, Yorick. Thank you for… 

 

YORICK: I have known you for a long time, my King. Longer than you realize. I cannot say we see eye-to-eye on all things, but I do honor your love for your friend. 

 

JOHN: Yes. Yes.

 

YORICK: He deserves to hear what you have said, when he awakes.

 

JOHN: He does. I will tell him. Exactly what I have learned and exactly who I am. I-I… I know now, Yorick. I feel for the first time…

 

YORICK: Human.

 

JOHN: Yes. (A metal clicking noise.) O-Oh. You’ve… You’ve sewn him up quickly.

 

YORICK: You have done a great thing for him today, John. 

 

JOHN: Thank you, Yorick. Now. (A short pause.) Bring him back. 

 

YORICK: Very well. This… will be loud. 

 

(John breathes heavily. An extended otherworldly whoosh, ended with an electric zap. A long stretch of silence.)

 

JOHN: Did it…? 

 

(Arthur inhales sharply and screams. A sharp cut, followed by ‘Come Easy Go Easy Love’ by Hoagy Carmichael. It gradually fades under static.)

 

(END Part 43.)