Writer, Editor, and Director: Finley Cole
Voices: Finley Cole (Vikki Other), Blue Mayfield (Dylan West)
[CROWD CHEERING]
VIKKI: Salutations, darling listeners! It’s me - the one known far and wide as Vikki Other! You may notice it sounds different today - and that’s because it is! Your handy-dandelion got invited to be the announcer for the Uncanny Valley High School Football Semi-Finals! Now, I don’t know much about the game, but I’ll sure do my best to bring our team home in a blush of valiant victory. From my timeline to yours… Go team!
[INTRO (note: edit instrumental to sound like it’s being played by a marching band. Keep bg noise soundscaping in!)]
VIKKI, CONT: Well, well, well, friends, fiends, fans and fae! It’s me again! Coming at you LIVE from the Uncanny High Stadium. Here tonight, we have the Uncanny Valley Mannequins playing the Elysium Field Gadflies. Dressed in bright green and white striped jerseys, the Gadflies stand strong, ready to try their best against our own black and purple clad soldiers. The stadium is PACKED. I see Ruqayyah An-najjar, who seems to have had her prosthetic arm replaced with a fashionable glowing blue tentacle! And of course, her girlfriend beside her- [PAUSE]
Hold on… is that… Leila?! [THEY STOP] I mean- um- moving on!
There’s Dominic Acton, owner of the beloved Blast Off Bakery, known for their delectable cookies and space war tech patents! Bradley Hayes, who runs the Blood Drive on Foggy Clearing Avenue - home of Uncanny Valley’s most dangerous sport!
The sky today is a lovely vague ominous grey, and we’ve hired several crows to perch on the stadium lights and caw warnings of darkness!
While the teams warm up, how about I keep you entertained with a little story though? Don’t worry-
It’s a good one. :)
[THE CHEERING DIES DOWN. VIKKI’S VOICE TAKES ON A SOFTER, MORE OMINOUS TONE]
It was the summer after fifth grade, and the air was crackled and golden. [TO THE AUDIENCE] Now… who here has heard of the Lost Caves?
[THE AUDIENCE CHEERS IN APPRECIATION]
VIKKI, CONT: [AMUSED] Alright, alright. So a few of us have. Well, eleven years to this day, the Caves entrance was boarded up for good. And if I’m correct, I was the last one inside.
The cave was found about 16 years ago, by a group of teens wandering the midsouth part of the Valley forest. We were far from the first to get sucked inside by the Cave’s mystery. But we would be the last.
There were seven of us - Holly Garcia, Antonio Ramirez, a tall boy I long forget the name of, a stout girl with red hair and sullied eyes, Yuko Tanaka, a short girl with messy dark hair and brown skin, and yours truly. I didn’t know anyone very well at the time, but I’d heard them discussing it outside the cave while I was lurking nearby, and I offered to join.
It was morning when we met up again, chipper and skipping to find our way in the earth’s cold heart. I don’t remember being scared when going in. I don’t remember feeling anything but the prickle of my own skin. Gooseflesh raised by cool air. Holly had promised us we wouldn’t need flashlights, as her blood was radioactive enough to let her cast a substantial glow over the inky walls. But even then, there is something about darkness that consumes so wholly what it cannot touch.
We were going blind at about ten minutes in. Red haired girl said we should turn back, but Yuko wanted to push forwards. They ended up in a standoff, both afraid of what it meant to be wrong. At the back, in a voice barely scraping our ears, Antonio whispered that he wasn’t sure which way was back anymore. All we knew was that we needed to be anywhere but here.
So we kept walking. We came to a split-
One side had been… closed off. Thick metal sheets tacked up. The other side looked… newer. More carved. Unnatural. Holly suggested it might loop around to the entrance. I thought that was stupid, logically speaking, but I didn’t argue. I wanted to keep going, and I felt that this path would lead us to the heart.
[VIKKI PAUSES, CHUCKLING BITTERLY]
Halfway down, Antonio said he could hear someone singing. Tall boy said it was probably the Banshee choir practising, but Antonio insisted he was wrong. “No. They’re… they’re singing my name.” And he began walking forwards, towards the sound. I didn’t know not to follow.
The red haired girl was called next, gasping as she swayed forwards. Then Yuko. The air grew prickly and hollow with every step, our steps the clap of casket lids slamming closed.
Until we came to the room.
It was large, and lit by flickering red flames. A thick stone obelisk stood in the center, black and etched with scrawling text, and four black boxes lay in front of the monument. Holly, Antonio, red head, and Yuko stepped up, and one by one, reached inside their chest. Their skin parted like wax, opening for their crooked fingers. When their grappling claws tore free, they held their own hearts, still beating with feverish flickers. One by one, they slid the hearts into the black boxes laying on the cold stone before the monument. One by one, they pushed them into the obelisks four faces. The etched runes ran red with malice, reaching up in cracked hazy swarms.
There was a flash of light, and the tall boy screamed. The shorter girl grabbed my arm, screaming at me to run and calling me an idiot. The boy was already running, feet pounding back up through the tunnels. I stood, shocked still for just a second, then ran.
I only looked back once.
Their bodies had fallen before I’d left, laying limp on the ground. But in that second, I swore they were suspended in the darkened air. Hooked through by coiling red tendrils that trailed from their mouths, connected to the obelisks sides.
But I didn’t look long enough to know for sure.
Forty minutes later, we stumbled out into the evening air, lungs hot and rasping, eyes scorched in the sudden wash of light. Someone had told the Valley police of our adventure, and the messy haired girls Moms were waiting anxiously, along with the tall boy’s Dad. No one waited for me.
The girl’s moms let me join them- until things calmed down. She introduced herself as Ellie, frowning stubbornly as we shook hands.
I tried to bring up what I’d seen - the whole experience - later, but for some reason, no one seemed to remember what had happened. To everyone but me, we simply had gotten lost in the dark.
The dark that could not take us, so consumed us instead.
Either way, we never saw the other four again.
[DEAD SILENCE FROM THE STADIUM]
VIKKI: Um…
Anyways, whose ready for some FOOTBALL!!!
[CHEERING]
V, CONT: That’s the kind of noises I am pretty sure you’re supposed to be making! Excellent job, folks!
So the game begins - with 2 hours on the clock and counting. Alyssa Scarab of the Mannequins has taken hold of the ball, and is using the razor sharp spines on her arms to protect it. Clyde Harper is utilising all six of his elbows to push through the crowd in pursuit. Alyssa draws closer to the first archway, and-
[THE CROWD “OOOOHS”]
V, CONFUSED: What? What just happened? Was that a good “Oh” or a bad “Oh”?!
[DYLAN COMES UP FROM BEHIND WITH A SHUFFLING NOISE. HE SIGHS AS HE SITS DOWN BESIDES VIKKI.]
DYLAN, EXASPERATED: It’s a good one.
V: ACK! Dylan! Where’d you come from?!
D: Usually, I do the game commentary. Since I, y’know, know how the game works.
V: Well- that’s– … was that a dig at me?
D, SNICKERING: Uh, no.
V: Well, then, I’ll let you know that sometimes people like commentary that doesn’t sound like the commentator hates their job.
D: I’m sure they’re overjoyed at the change to “so chipper they sound like they’re being held at gunpoint”.
V: EXCUSE ME, I’m sorry if you can’t handle my enigmatic and insatiable personality.
D: Trust me, I’m one of the only ones who can- gimme the mic.
V: But-!
D, IGNORING THEM: [TIRED] Hello, men, women, and Mannequins, it’s Dylan West. Your actual host for today’s game. [HALF-HEARTEDLY] Yay… The score is now 1-0, with the most recent point scored by Alyssa Scarab.
V: -Who is now running towards the second arch, expertly dodging a blast from the hidden row of flame pillars charging up from the scorched earth!
D: Now this is interesting - usually I would’ve saved a 3 pointer until further along in game.
V: And she should’ve saved it, because as the time draws dire, and the second arch draws closer, Caleb swoops in to tackle her! The score remains 1-0!
D: No, actually it’s 0-0. Three point run means all or nothing.
V: Oh. Uh, 0-0!
D: Great Cicada… [SIGH]
D, CONT: So, Alyssa calls a foul- I think- No, wait. She’s just chanting angrily.
V: I’m pretty sure that’s a dark curse. Is she allowed to do that?
D: Well, that’s all up to whether the field thinks it’s alright. The rules allow the invoking of old gods, and minor hexes if handled responsibly. For major fouls we’d use the Soulscales to judge, but things like this are decided by the field itself.
V: -And by the look of the giant fanged pit that just opened up in the earth to swallow her whole, I’m going to say that’s a “no!”.
D: Goddamn.
V: Will she be okay? Who knows! The next play is already setting up!
D: [HE SOUNDS SLIGHTLY MORE ENTHUSIASTIC NOW, LESS TIRED] Gadflies in possession, Mannequins to defend. And we’re off!
V: Vasiliki Pappas has possession! What shall she do? Score a goal? Fall to their knees? Begin an impromptu song and dance routine with her team in unison??
D: Andddd- Yep. Immediately tackled by Carnisha Meadows.
V: Is that the girl with white hair whose-
D, A BIT DISGUSTED: -whose lifting up her shirt to shove the ball into her stomach mouth? Yea.
BOTH: Ooooh… [VIKKI SAYS IT IN AWE, DYLAN MORE OR LESS GROANS IT]
V: That’s so cool!
D, overlapping: That’s so gross…
V, CONT: That one guy with the hair-
D: Mona Galatas
V: -is chasing after her at lightning speed, reaching out to grab her arm! But- she- high-fives him? Huh?
D, QUEASY: Give it a second.
V: HOLY MOTHER OF SNAKES! Mona recoils, holding his hand to conceal it! But it’s too late! The toothmarks on her palm are clear, flesh torn away in an angry halo of meat that despises it’s own form! Blood spilling like ink! Staining green grass red!
D: Carnisha has a palm mouth.
V, EXCITED: I KNOW!
D, MORE EXCITED NOW: Marsilla An-najjar-Satoya accepts the ball as it’s passed to vim, running-
V: Dodging-
D: And-
BOTH: Vip scores!
[CHEERING. BOTH LAUGH.]
V: So the score is 1-0 again!
D, VERY MUCH INTO THE SPIRIT NOW: Affirmative! Satoya throws the ball back, signalling the end of the run!
V: Carnisha and Marsilla hug, parting with glee as Marsilla’s neck drips red, chunks of vis flesh torn from vis throat! Truly an astonishing sign of the bonds formed between these players!
D: I’m sensing a strong start for our Mannequins. Is this a sign of victory to come?
V: I’d make a guess, but as a licensed false prophet, that might be a bad idea.
D, SMUGLY: Is this your way of saying you lost every bet you made through high school?
V, DEFENSIVE: N-no! And- none of you heard that!
D, SNICKERING: Alright. Back to the game.
V: The third play begins with Gadflies in possession!
D: Vasiliki Pappas is once again in possession of the ball. Lillian Greaves of the UV Mannequins crouches on all fours, fast in pursuit. They make a long run, narrowly avoiding the Indus Worm pit. Pappas makes a sharp turn, throwing Greaves off their scent.
V: It only works for the slightest of seconds! Lillian flies on fast paws. Slowly a long dark tendrils snakes from her mouth, wrapping around Vasiliki Pappas ankle and hooking onto the flesh with hidden spines. Vasiliki Pappas shrieks, stumbling and falling to the ground!
D, cutting in, bemused: Mother Cicada, Pappas is getting torn apart today.
V, ECSTATIC: What an innovative and discerning use of ones physical form! Even the black hooded figures at the field edge agree, as they emit a low ticking hiss from beneath their shadowy veils!
D: No, actually they’re calling the Soulscales. That was a foul.
V, QUIETLY: Oh.
[LOW, BAGPIPE TONE STARTS]
V: A black platform slowly rises from the bloodstained and charred astroturf. Upon it sits a large scale, carved from Onyx and inlaid with silver engravings of the game rules, written in a mix of Swedish, French, and other dead languages! Lillian stands, five of her visible eyes widening in frozen fear as the black cloaked figure behind them nudges her forwards.
D: Greaves approaches, one of the refs extending a smoky tentacle out and reaching down her throat.
V: The gray churning mass removes a writhing scarlet cloud from the girls mouth, setting it into a jar and lifting it onto the scale. Another black swathed beast bestows a crisp-cup ruby upon the other side, gleaming like broken blood.
D: It tips, sways… and settles even. The foul is undecided. Not even the weighing of Greaves’ sins can save her. The conscience of the audience has not been cleared. The ref extracts Greaves’ soul, shaking off some residual sins from previous jar use and slipping it back down Greaves’ throat.
V: Now I HATE to see that. Just despise it! Please for the love of an unknown and forsaken god, take proper care of your soul jars! This can be by burning sage - NOT white sage, that’s just terrible eco-awareness-wise - whispering an exorcism backwards and forwards under a full moon, or washing it out with Downie dish soap and warm water.
D: Very astutely given advice. Now, since the weighing of the souls has failed in determining the fouls validity, we now move on to the failsafe.
BOTH: ROCK! PAPER! SCISSORS!
V: Best of three!
D: Greaves VS Pappas!
V: Winner gets to keep the point!
D: No they don’t! That’s very wrong!
[CHANTING FROM CROWD]
D: Rock!
V: Paper!
D: Scissors!
BOTH: SHOOT!
V: Rock beats scissors! Lillian wins!
D: Rock!
V: Paper!
D: Scissors!
BOTH: SHOOT!
D: Tentacle beats paper! Pappas wins!
V: It’s a tie!
D: Rock!
V: Paper!
D: Scissors!
BOTH: SHOOT!
V: Flamethrower beats tentacle!
D: GREAVES WINS!
[CHEERING]
[THEY HIGH FIVE]
D: While the teams debate their next moves, how about we take a second to hear a word from our sponsor-
V, SINGING: Sponsor time! Sponsor time! The beasts of old shalt bay in rhyme!
D: What the hell?
V: Sponsor music! That’s a thing, right? Like, music for sponsorships?
D: Yes- I mean, not- [GIVING UP] Just say your bit.
V: Alrighty then! So, today’s game is sponsored by Void and Co.! Our faithful friends over at Void and Company have been responsible for some of the most memorable voids yet. The foggy patch in your memory you can’t quite decipher? Void and Co! The darkness when you close your eyes? Void and Co.! The numbness you feel when dissociating on the floor of the shower, staring blankly up at the tiled ceiling? Void and Co! That large gap of literal pitch black void that has recently replaced the third step in your staircase? Void and Co.! Thank you Void and Co. for bringing us this weeks game. Void and Co. There is nothing out there for you.
D: Very nice.
V: Thank you, kind sir! :)
D: Here- I actually got a second mic that’s hooked up to the speakers properly, so you can turn off the Otherphone.
V: Oh! Really? That’s- that’s really nice.
D: Yeah, no problem. Now, hurry up. The second quarter is about to start.
V: Y-yep!
[OTHERPHONE CLICKS OFF]
[OTHERPHONE CLICKS ON]
[MUFFLED TALKING]
D, CASUALLY: Hey- just wanted to say thanks for the help today. Co-hosting was fun.
V: Oh! Uh, thanks! It was really fun for me too. I like entertaining people. It… it makes me feel like I’m doing something good.
D: Well, either way, it was a good game. Mannequins for the win again!
V: Whoo-hoo! [PAUSE] Maybe we should… do this again sometime. Or just. Hang out. Get some drinks at Maisy’s? Talk about school and stuff?
D: I… [SIGH] Sorry, but… no thanks. You’re great at a mic, Vikki, but… I’m not sure I want to hang out with you beyond that.
V: Oh.
D: Yeah. Sorry.
V: Well… yeah. That’s fine.
[PAUSE]
V: Wait- I have a question, then.
D: Uh, sure.
V: I need you to get me in touch with Axel Hall.
D: I- What the fuck? Why?
V: I know you’ve done work with them. You have their number. I need them for… things.
D, COLD: I don’t know what you’re talking about. Axel and I don’t… do business together, or whatever you’re implying.
V: You keep a burner phone in the inner pocket of your burgundy patchwork coat that has a full list of all of your exchanges with them. I really don’t want to blackmail you about it, but I couldn’t help but see it when Billie opened the other day. I was just trying to get more information on Axel, I swear, but it linked me to you instead and I just- [SIGH] Look. If you don’t give me their number, I’ll tell the Elysium Fields superintendent right over there about you illegally importing Ambrosia. Or… maybe I’ll just tell your boss. Or your boyfriend. Either way I don’t think you want that.
D: I- [ANGRY] Fine. Fucking fine. But this is why no one likes you, Vikki. You’re a fucking snake.
V: I’m sorry.
D: Yeah, no. You don’t get to apologise to me after blatantly manipulating me like that. It’s just- no. [RUSTLING] Here. [SCRIBBLING, PAPER TEARING] This is their number. Now go away.
V: Thank you.
D: Don’t talk to me again.
V: …
V, QUIETLY: I wasn’t going to anyway.
[DYLAN WALKS AWAY]
V: …
[THEY TAKE A DEEP BREATH]
Well. That’s… at least I have Axel’s number again. Now- now I can reach out to them and see if… if they’ll help with it.
From my timeline to yours…
This is Radio Other.