Arthur Lester

Originally from England, Arthur emigrated to the United States at 17.[14][15] His father was an alcoholic.[16] At some point in his childhood, Arthur’s parents killed themselves. After his parents died, a family friend suggested he find a creative outlet, which spawned his love of music and poetry. At the time, Arthur believed that his parents’ deaths would be the hardest thing he would ever have to endure.[3] It is heavily implied, though not outright stated, that Arthur grew up in a religious orphanage.[17]

When he was 12, after his parents’ deaths, Arthur spent time in the Boys' Brigade - an organization aiming to instill certain ideals and qualities in young men, and teach them survival skills. Arthur speaks of this organization as “boys playing war”[7], but also says that it helped give hope when he otherwise felt hopeless. It was there that he met his first real friend, William.[18] Arthur harbored jealousy over William's positive relationship with his father, who had made a wooden toy train for William. Arthur snatched the toy from William and threw it into their campfire, which ruined their friendship.[16]

In adulthood, Arthur pursued music as a career and became a composer.[19] He wrote a few songs which he sold that made it onto the radio.[19] It was during this point in his life that he entered into a relationship with Bella. They lived in Boston.[14] While Bella was giving birth to their daughter, Faroe, Arthur met with a friend, James, at a bar, where he expressed that his relationship with Bella "felt wrong", and that he was considering leaving her. Bella died in childbirth, and Arthur arrived at the hospital an hour afterwards.[20] Faroe later drowned in the bathtub while Arthur was supposed to be watching her.[21] He had been distracted with the piano at the time and afterwards fell into a depression and stopped playing. It's unclear at what point he settled in Arkham, Massachusetts.

He met Peter "Parker" Yang at Jack’s Bar, and the two became close over the guise of a music-related case.[22] At some point, they partnered as private investigators at 13 Mosby Avenue. They took over the lease of that office from Elijah Strong and Teddy Caine, who had taken it over from Roland Cummings, whose name was still on the lease.[1][23] Together they were working on the case of the missing child Emily MacFarland, which lead them to 58 Pelican Lane.[1]

ADVERTISEMENT Season One

Arthur awakens with no memory of who or where he is and has to rely on the mysterious entity now controlling his eyesight. The Entity describes Arthur as a tender soul, but as events unfold with Eddie, the maintenance man, Arthur is seen to have a spine and earns the description of someone with the “cold, calculated demeanor of someone not to fuck with.” Although Arthur was not a private investigator until going into business with his partner, Parker Yang, he claims to have been quite good at it.[1]

After Arthur is put into a coma from a stab wound to his stomach, he dreams that he is in a sanatorium of some kind, in which he is manipulated by Adam Fry into giving the name of Amanda Cummings. It is after he wakes from this that he gains the ability to see the last moments of someone’s life by touching their corpse.[24]

Due to a moment of indecision, Arthur indirectly allows the lighthouse keeper to die on the island. John gains control of one of Arthur’s feet.[6]

When backed into a corner with the widow in pursuit, Arthur brutally murders her by bashing her skull in with a rock. This causes a rift between John and Arthur, as Arthur will harbor no sympathy toward a "monster" and a "cultist."[25] John gives Arthur the silent treatment, which leads directly to him being arrested and, eventually, killed by being shot three times by one of the officers afflicted with madness. After Arthur is resurrected by the Wraith, he says that he heard a voice that sounded like John calling to him, presumably from the Dark World. He then reveals to John that he has a daughter named Faroe before falling asleep.[26] While exploring the hotel, Arthur vehemently refuses to share about his daughter, saying the topic is "out of [John's] grasp."[27]

As Arthur falls deeper down the rabbit hole of the cult devoted to the King in Yellow and John’s true identity, he chooses to trust John. He believes he is changed from whatever he once was.[28] When “John” in the form of the King in Yellow attempts to erase Arthur’s mind and claim his body, Arthur hangs on to a specific memory of Faroe interrupting him playing the piano. The King states that John, the fractured piece of his soul, has become entangled with Arthur’s, and transports them to his domain: the Dreamlands.[29]

ADVERTISEMENT Season Two

Arthur awakens in the Dreamlands with all of his belongings and an uneasy John. Arthur is still feeling betrayed, casting doubt on John's previous amnesia. They make a deal together to escape the Dreamlands, but aren’t sure where to begin. They come across the Trader, who they trade items with, and who tells them they can only leave the woods when it wants them to. John suggests that in order to leave, Arthur must sacrifice a piece of himself. After some back and forth, they settle on Arthur biting off his left pinky tip. The forest accepts the offering, giving them a gift in return: a small wooden prosthetic John describes as having small roots that grow into their left hand, “spreading out from the wound like dark lightning.”[7]

Arthur and John work together to traverse the landscape, getting into another argument after an encounter with a creature that Arthur refuses to kill. They come up with a contingency plan for the most dire circumstances: if they're captured by the King, Arthur will take his own life, as Arthur sees himself as "dead either way", and by dying, he at least prevents the King from winning. In every brief moment of rest, Arthur continues to have nightmares about his daughter. He asks John if he’s sure everyone goes to the Dark World when they die, to which he's uncertain.[8]

While inside the mountain caves, Arthur begins to hear another voice claiming to be Frank Underhill, alerting Arthur to John's deceptions and directing him to a bag containing a vial of selenine, which he says will give Arthur some control of his body back. As both "Frank" and John attempt to get Arthur to do what they want, he snaps, smashing the bottle in frustration. He is then thrown into a series of hallucinations, ultimately leading to his capture by the King in Yellow.[30]

In the three months Arthur and John have been imprisoned, Arthur and John's relationship is more than tenuous as Arthur has been slowly starved. After endless planning and preparations, Arthur leaps out of their prison. As they finally reach freedom, Arthur is overcome with joy and weeps that he can’t remember the last time he felt this hopeful. He becomes distraught when they cross paths with the Trader again, who has Faroe's music box that was buried with her. Believing she may be in the Dreamlands after all, he takes the path into the city where they were told not to go.[31]

When confronting the King in Yellow, the King breaks the tibia and femur of Arthur's right leg. He pulls out the dagger given to him by Kayne and stabs himself in the throat, missing his jugular. John bargains with the King for Arthur's life, and the King throws Arthur through a portal into a snowy forest, bleeding out and alone.[3]

ADVERTISEMENT Season Three

Exhausted and in incredible pain, Arthur manages to drag himself into a nearby cabin. There, he flips a coin, calling Kayne to him. They end up striking a deal - John will be returned to Arthur, along with the control over his hand and leg, but he will have no memory. Arthur isn't happy with the deal but agrees to it.[32]

The entity now in Arthur's head truly doesn't remember anything of their time together. He tries to manipulate Arthur but is quickly shut down when Arthur reveals he knows everything. In an effort to make the entity cooperate, Arthur lies about one of the objects in his bag, calling it "The Glass of the Cana" and claiming it has the ability to send the entity back to the dark world, though soon after he reveals that he had lied about it[33]. Arthur settles on calling the entity "Yellow"[9].

Arthur finds himself missing John. He finds it difficult to cooperate with Yellow, calling him a monster on numerous occasions. They end up in a town called Addison[34], ran by a man called Larson[35]. Arthur can almost immediately tell something isn't right in the town. He finds out about the mine in the town, and how Addison itself is considered "a place of unfathomable depth. Where the crashing waves and churning, nightmarish storms are but memories. Darkness so black, so all consuming, that light can be… only dreamt of."[33] by outsiders. Arthur and Yellow aim to leave the town as quick as possible, but they soon encounter a creature of the mines, an invisible being who killed a surveyor and who attacks Arthur[33].

Arthur and Yellow end up forming a reluctant partnership, now sharing a common goal as John did with Arthur, though that gets ruined once they get captured by Larson. Larson forces Arthur to play "Faroe's Lullabye". Larson decides to throw Arthur down into the mines; as he is dragged away from the piano, John is returned to him.[36] In the mines, they encounter the same invisible creature from before, along with a group of people seemingly under its command. Arthur refuses to help them, dead set on getting out of the mine and killing Larson. [37]It's later revealed that this drive is caused by Arthur seeing himself in the man, as they'd both lost daughters more or less because of their actions.[22]

After they get out of the mine and Arthur kills Uncle[38], they decide to return to the mines and help the people trapped within them. Arthur gets incredibly injured by the creature, who makes a hole in his stomach, but John is able to sew the wound shut. They use the mask to see where the creature is and defeat it by using the flute used to control it.[39]

After all is said and done, Arthur finally gets to have a proper meal.

ARTHUR: I won’t believe that. We’ve come too far, John. We need to see this to its end.

JOHN: Alright, Arthur.

(Arthur begins to walk.)

ARTHUR (exhale): Where is the door?

JOHN: To your right.

(He walks and slowly opens a squeaky door.)

JOHN: There are a set of stone stairs leading down to a small area. There isn’t much light down here.

(Fiddling with his lighter, Arthur sparks it.)

JOHN: That’s better.

(He begins to climb downwards, occasionally grunting in exertion.)

JOHN: As I said, this is a small area that turns back in the direction of the lobby above and opens wider. There are a few shelves here with paint and other maintenance supplies. The hall widens and juts off in two directions.

ARTHUR (lightly echoing): Any idea which way makes more sense?

JOHN: Neither seems to be better than the other.

ARTHUR: Then… left, I suppose.

JOHN: Sure. The damage of time is heavy down here. The concrete walls that were once painted in soft gray now sport cracks that run deep. Large pieces of the paint have chipped off and litter the floor. (Pause. More walking.) This hallway stretches on ahead, but there is a door to our left. It’s slightly ajar. Here.

(Arthur slowly opens a door.)

JOHN: This looks like a pantry, overflow for the kitchen above. A rather large room with shelves.

ARTHUR: Anything look… edible?

JOHN: Not really, most look long since expired. Jars are broken. A shelf is even knocked over.

ARTHUR: Nothing else in the room?

JOHN: No.

ARTHUR: Alright.

JOHN: Wait.

ARTHUR: What?

JOHN: Do you hear that?

(Arthur stops walking.)

ARTHUR: No?

JOHN: I feel like there are whispers. As if… as if people are down here.

(Only silence.)

ARTHUR: I don’t think so, John.

JOHN: You really don’t hear that?

ARTHUR: No. Let’s keep moving.

JOHN (softly): Right.

(He begins to walk.)

JOHN: This hallway moves towards the front of the hotel and the town. It runs quite thin. There’s another open door here to the right. Er? A wine cellar… oh, and another set of stairs just beyond, presumably –

ARTHUR (interrupting): Leading up to the dining area?

JOHN: Yes.

ARTHUR: With all the… rat things.

JOHN: Let’s tread softly here then, shall we?

ARTHUR: Right.

JOHN: This hallway ends in a room.

ARTHUR: Is the door open?

JOHN: No.

ARTHUR: Well. This is why we came.

(He steps forward and opens a door.)

JOHN: It’s very dark in here. Move in, so your lighter can reflect some of the walls.

(Arthur walks further into the room.)

JOHN (shocked): Jesus, Arthur! There’s someone here!

ARTHUR (whispering): What?

JOHN: Uh – we need to – wait.

ARTHUR: John? (John begins to laugh.) Who is it? (He continues to laugh. Arthur’s voice turns desperate.) Tell me what you see! Why are you laughing? I don’t –

JOHN (stopping): My apologies, Arthur. This is a bathroom. (Arthur sighs.) A bank of large, multi-stalled showers run to the right of us, and to the north, the wall is lined with large mirrors.

ARTHUR: Mirrors?

JOHN: Yes. We’re alone, the only person in here is our reflection.

ARTHUR (exhale): Fuck, John. (He chuckles.) You nearly gave me a heart attack.

JOHN: They’re quite nice mirrors, too. Ornate, in a way. Tall enough for your whole body.

ARTHUR: This must have been where the staff showered and cleaned up.

JOHN: Yes.

ARTHUR: Nothing else?

JOHN: Not that I can see.

ARTHUR: Well, let’s move back to the fork, but go right this time.

(He continues to walk, opening and shutting a door behind him.)

ARTHUR: You seem quiet.

JOHN: I have a bad feeling, Arthur.

ARTHUR: Me too, but – but this is why we’re here.

JOHN: Stay left this time.

ARTHUR: But we wanted –

JOHN: You’re the other way now, Arthur.

ARTHUR: Right, right.

(He continues to walk.)

JOHN: There are rooms all along the side here, all their doors are open. Maybe five rooms in all. They look like sleeping quarters.

ARTHUR: The staff, maybe?

JOHN: Perhaps.

ARTHUR: Tough to gauge who this hotel catered to.

JOHN: What do you mean?

ARTHUR: It’s so out of the way. Not particularly extravagant and not a destination necessarily worth visiting, it just seems odd.

JOHN: True. There’s another room here, the door is shut. To your right.

(Arthur opens a door.)

JOHN: Ah, this is the laundry room. It’s large and runs off to the left. It looks like this is where we would have come out, had the chute not been blocked.

ARTHUR: Can you see the chute? (He shifts closer.)

JOHN: Yes, it’s blocked. Lots of laundry is piled here, presumably from many years. Garbage too.

ARTHUR: Damn.

JOHN: So far this basement doesn’t seem to be holding the answers you seek, Arthur.

ARTHUR: No. What the hell is the point in all this? That paper, it - it said that we were on our way here, but.

JOHN: But what?

ARTHUR: Well, they knew it, they had it written that we were to come down this way. So why is it so vacant down here?

JOHN: You thought they’d greet you here?

ARTHUR: I don’t know what I thought, but I – I figured something was here.

JOHN: The hall still continues on? Maybe you’ll get your wish.

ARTHUR: Maybe. Let’s head there.

JOHN (warning, amidst growing ominous music): Arthur.

ARTHUR: What?

JOHN: There is a light ahead. (Arthur breathes shakily.) The door at the end of this hall is slightly ajar. Light leaks out with a flicker, as if a candle is lit in the room… as if someone is waiting. Are you sure about this?

(Arthur flicks on the lighter.)

ARTHUR: Yes.

(He walks closer, opens the door, and shuts it behind him.)

ARTHUR: Well?

JOHN: There's no one in here. The room is a small office. Its walls are lined with bookshelves, most of which are empty or tossed with time. A candle sits upon the writing desk before us, however.

ARTHUR (exhale): Well, they wanted us to be here –

JOHN: There is a phonograph on the desk.

ARTHUR: A phonograph? What kind? (He touches it.)

JOHN: It says ‘Edison Standard Phonograph’.

ARTHUR: Is there a cylinder on it? Er, a wax cylinder?

JOHN: Yes.

ARTHUR: Are there grooves on it?

JOHN: Slight, but yes.

ARTHUR: They want us to hear something.

(Arthur pulls up a chair and sits with a sigh.)

JOHN: To your left.

(Arthur starts the phonograph, which starts with a burst of static that soon quiets.)

ORRETT (slightly tinny): Recording: This is Dr. Jeffrey Orrett, May 27th, 1927, recording from Arkham Psychiatric Hospital. (Suspenseful strings rise.) Today, I’ll be speaking once again with patient #45, Kellin Holeman.

(Kellin’s trademark heavy breathing is audible throughout.)

ARTHUR (shocked): What?

JOHN: What!?

ORRETT: Kellin, I see you’re still wearing your mask.

KELLIN: Yes.

ORRETT: Is there a reason you feel safer with it on?

KELLIN: I told you. I can’t breathe.

ORRETT: Alright. Can we continue what we were talking about last session? I told you I wanted to record it, and I’d like to pick up – (slightly distorted, soon returning to normal) Where we left off. Okay? Okay. Now you mentioned the ‘Dreamlands’. What are the Dreamlands?

KELLIN: It is… vast.

ORRETT: Can you explain?

KELLIN: It’s not here, it’s… somewhere else.

ORRETT: You mentioned it was an alternate dimension.

KELLIN: I said it wasn't this place.

ORRETT: You also said that things didn’t work the same, that you could only get to it by dreaming.

KELLIN: No, that you had to be asleep to enter.

ORRETT: But when you wake…?

KELLIN: You don’t… wake.

ORRETT: So if I were in the Dreamlands my body wouldn’t be here?

KELLIN: No.

ORRETT: So I am literally transported?

KELLIN: Yes.

ORRETT: And how did you enter the Dreamlands?

KELLIN (after a pause): I don’t know.

ORRETT: Kellin.

KELLIN: I don’t know.

ORRETT (interrupting): Okay, okay. You told me last week that it was a mirror image of our waking universe. The same planets, stars, right?

KELLIN: Right.

ORRETT: Can one willingly come back from the Dreamlands, as you did?

KELLIN: You have to be allowed to leave.

ORRETT: By who?

(Kellin responds with a heavy exhale.)

ORRETT: By who, Kellin?

KELLIN (curt): Him.

ORRETT: Is this the King you were talking about? The – (Distorted.) King in Yellow?

KELLIN: Yes. (Faroe’s Song begins to play.) The King in Yellow.

ORRETT: What is he?

KELLIN: He is God.

ORRETT: Kellin, now surely you mean something else.

KELLIN: He is God.

ORRETT: He may be a god to you, but what does he offer?

KELLIN (after a pause): Pain.

ORRETT: Pain?

KELLIN: He offers despair and madness, pain and suffering.

ORRETT: What kind of God would offer pain, Kellin? Kellin?

(Kellin breathes heavily.)

ORRETT: Kellin, it sounds more like this King is the Devil.

KELLIN: They are one and the same.

ORRETT: The same? God and the Devil?

KELLIN: Yes.

ORRETT: And he exists in the Dreamlands? Or here?

KELLIN: Both.

ORRETT: Both?

KELLIN: Here he walks amongst us, whispering to us.

ORRETT: He has whispered to you?

KELLIN: No.

ORRETT: How do you know all of this, Kellin? Where did you learn all of this?

KELLIN: Near a lake.

ORRETT: A lake?

KELLIN: In a town.

ORRETT: What town?

KELLIN: In a basement.

ORRETT: A basement of what, Kellin?

KELLIN: You don’t belong there.

ORRETT: How do you know?

KELLIN: You’re not meant to find him unless you are supposed to.

ORRETT: What does that mean? Where can I find answers, Kellin?

KELLIN: Only when you truly see yourself, framed in gold, will you find answers.

(The phonograph clicks off.)

ARTHUR (shaken): What the fuck? Why the fuck was Kellin…?

JOHN: I don’t know, Arthur.

ARTHUR: What does all of that mean? The Dreamlands, does that –?

JOHN: Feel familiar?

ARTHUR: Yes.

JOHN: It does.

ARTHUR: The Dark World?

JOHN: No. (A pause.) Well, what are we supposed to do now?

ARTHUR: I don’t… he – he said something at the end, er… it sounded like… (Arthur gets up from the chair. The piano melody fades away.) Something like “When you see yourself framed in gold, you will find answers.”

JOHN: What do you suppose that means?

ARTHUR: I don’t know, I… it might be a riddle.

JOHN: A riddle? For what?

(Arthur starts to walk.)

JOHN: Arthur?

ARTHUR: To help people find their way to… this place. Whatever is beyond this hotel.

JOHN: Then what is the answer?

ARTHUR: I’m thinking.

(He continues to walk.)

ARTHUR: “Only when you see yourself.” The mirrors in the bathroom, you said they were… ornate?

JOHN: Yes.

ARTHUR: How ornate?

JOHN: The frames. They were gold.

(Arthur walks.)

ARTHUR: That’s it, then. Kellin said that people… that he found this place.

JOHN: Like we did.

ARTHUR: Like we did. But that only those meant to be here found more.

JOHN: And what is this “more”?

ARTHUR: I don’t know, but whatever it is, that mirror is the answer.

JOHN: Alright.

(Arthur walks, opening and shutting a door behind him. He flicks on the lighter with a sigh.)

ARTHUR (echoing slightly): Suddenly I feel very alone.

JOHN: What do you mean?

ARTHUR: I don’t know. Something about hearing that, the sound filling the room, and - and then nothing. I suppose you’ve never experienced it.

JOHN (lightly amused): No. But I'm interested in what you mean.

ARTHUR: There's an odd sensation after a record, or if you’ve had the radio on for a while, the emptiness when you turn it off. (He walks.) Or like… after a party, when all the guests have gone home. You’re there to clean up the glasses and head to bed.

JOHN: A party?

ARTHUR: I- I just mean to say that… the room filled with noise, suddenly silent. It just feels all the more lonesome, and I suddenly feel it, is all.

JOHN: Well. You’re not alone, for what it’s worth.

ARTHUR: I… (He chuckles.) Wh –

JOHN: We’re at the mirror.

ARTHUR: Right.

JOHN: It’s tall, as I said. It’s maybe six feet from the ground, though it’s almost an inch off of it.

ARTHUR: You said originally that there were a few mirrors?

JOHN: This one is the only one with gold, and it’s in the center.

ARTHUR: Well.

(He flicks on the lighter and starts to push against the mirror. A loud thud.)

JOHN: Well indeed, Arthur.

ARTHUR: It feels unlatched, slightly, from the wall, but… but how do I… (He grunts.)

JOHN: Try pulling it out.

(Arthur exerts himself.)

ARTHUR: No, it’s not… oh! Oh.

(Something clicks.)

ARTHUR: Ah, there was a small switch at the side, like a button. Now it should…

(Panting in exertion as the mirror creaks open.)

ARTHUR: There.

(He flicks on the lighter and starts to walk.)

JOHN: Arthur, before us lies a thin concrete tunnel. It stretches forward into absolute darkness.

ARTHUR: Funny. Before all of this, I used to fear the dark. Not in any crippling way, but – but now it’s… well, now it’s no different. Shall we?

JOHN: You first.

(Arthur chuckles to himself. He moves along the wall, occasionally brushing against the exteriors.)

ARTHUR: It’s quite tight in here.

JOHN: Yes, and the concrete walls seem to stop… abruptly.

ARTHUR: What do you mean?

JOHN: The walls here are quickly turning to natural stone and… dirt. (Suspenseful music starts to rise.)

ARTHUR: We’re moving downward, aren’t we? As if on a slight incline.

JOHN: Only slight. The walls still are carved, smooth cuts shape the walls with a very distinct feel, as if it were chipped away.

ARTHUR: How so?

JOHN: I'm not sure, but there are support beams here.

ARTHUR: Like a mine?

JOHN: Yes.

ARTHUR: Was this city built on a mine? That seems odd but… it makes more sense –

JOHN: There aren’t cart tracks here, and the beams don’t have places for torches or lights. This is a single tunnel leading towards… an elevator.

ARTHUR: What?

JOHN: Nothing so nice as we’ve seen in Arkham. This is a rusted chain-fed elevator ending the tunnel.

ARTHUR (slightly nervous): There's no other way? This is –

JOHN: This is where the tunnel leads.

ARTHUR: How far up does it go?

JOHN: No, Arthur. It only goes down.

(A single boom of suspense.)

ARTHUR: Down? Farther into the mine?

JOHN: This isn’t a mine. This is a tunnel that looks as though it existed long before this hotel was ever conceived.

ARTHUR: So, what then? They built it to… to – to hide this? On top of… whatever lay down there? Another cult sanctuary like we found on the island?

JOHN: This feels different. Very different. A widow built that home on the island to hide something not welcome in this world. This hotel attempted to hide in plain sight. A secret large enough to require everything that is built above us.

ARTHUR: Then it’s a secret we need to see.

(Arthur steps onto the elevator. It creaks badly.)

ARTHUR: How do I, er… is there a –

JOHN: There’s a lever to your right. It looks to be counterweighted. The chain leads into the wall. I don’t know how fast it will descend. You may want to hold on.

ARTHUR: To the keenest form of fascination.

(He shifts the elevator lever. The elevator screeches shut and starts to move. It’s very loud.)

JOHN: We’re moving quickly. The stone walls here are carved much like that above.

ARTHUR (over the elevator’s noise): Carved like the island?

JOHN: No, the stone here isn’t intricate. It’s seemingly done for function alone. It is not ornate. The floor of this lift is a metal grate. I can see below… past our feet and into the darkness. I think it may open up, shortly.

ARTHUR: How?

JOHN: It looks as though the walls on all sides of us will stop, as if we descend from the roof of some large underground cavern. We’ll continue down, I hope, though I don’t see a bottom.

ARTHUR: I'm glad I can’t see this.

(The elevator continues downward loudly.)

JOHN: There, we’ve broken through the ceiling of this cavern, and as I said, it’s massive. I feel like a single drop falling from the ceiling of some… (In awe.) Oh my God. Arthur.

ARTHUR: What?

JOHN (stunned): This… I-I can’t even begin.

ARTHUR: Try.

JOHN: This is a city.

(A thoughtful tune begins to play.)

ARTHUR: Wh-what?

JOHN (awed to the point of excitement): Arthur, there is a massive underground city here. Miles beneath the surface. Colossal stalactites hang from the cavern ceiling, like dripping saliva from some gigantic beast’s mouth. Buildings, roads, stone-laden paths all populate this cavern, which stretches out before us.

ARTHUR (out of breath): I… I-I don’t understand.

JOHN: A dull, emanating green light pulses from the city center on the other side of what looks to be a black river.

ARTHUR: A river?

JOHN: Yes. A-Arthur, we’re descending fast now, o-on the far side of the river. Faster than I… oh… hold on!

(The elevator crashes. Arthur grunts in pain. The elevator completely smashes apart, metal clanging some distance away.)

ARTHUR (in pain): Oh, fuck.

(Sighing, Arthur begins to move around on the gravel.)

JOHN: There’s no going back now, Arthur.

ARTHUR: Just… just start with where we are. Are we in this… city? Where did we…?

JOHN: The hole in the cavern roof is high above us, hundreds of feet. The elevator looks broken now. We’ve descended down onto a stone beach covered in pebbles, on the shore of a black river opposite the city. The wall of the cavern is to our back and extends, surrounding the entire city… a-and across the river just past a massive pillar that connects to the ceiling is where all the buildings start. (Arthur walks forward.) They’re odd in architecture, almost medieval but with rounded windows and smooth features. I can only see the ones on the waterfront across the river now. It’s very… still down here.

ARTHUR: Okay, okay… okay. We need to calm down, I –

JOHN: The green light from the city center, it… it fills the cavern in an odd, dreamlike hue.

ARTHUR: How far across the river is this city?

JOHN: A couple hundred feet at least.

ARTHUR: Who lived down here? Did the cult –

JOHN: This is what they’ve been hiding, Arthur. This is where it all leads.

ARTHUR: All of it?

JOHN: Everything led us here. (Distorted.) We are home.

ARTHUR: Home?

JOHN (still distorted): Home. We… have to find out.

ARTHUR: John?

JOHN (distorted): Answers.

ARTHUR: John.

JOHN (normal): Yes?

ARTHUR: Are you alright?

JOHN: Yes.

ARTHUR: It’s so quiet down here. Is the river this way?

JOHN: Yes.

(He continues forward.)

JOHN: Stop. The water… it’s thick and unmoving, like oil.

ARTHUR: Is it?

(Arthur moves forward, splashing around in the shallows.)

ARTHUR: It feels thick alright.

(The sound of splashing water in the distance.)

ARTHUR (exhale): Did you hear that?

JOHN: Yes.

ARTHUR: Do you see anything?

JOHN: Something moved in the water.

ARTHUR: Is there movement on the other side? Is there anyone there?

JOHN: No.

ARTHUR: Do you see a way to get across?

JOHN: Yes, there’s a small boat on the shore just down the way.

ARTHUR: Well, it’s better than swimming.

(Arthur moves forward. A slight echo surrounds them.)

JOHN: This city, Arthur. It has eyes.

ARTHUR: I thought you said you didn’t see any movement.

JOHN: I don’t. The eyes are unmoving. They follow us. (Distorted.) They’re waiting for us.

ARTHUR (insistent): John, don’t break on me now. I need you.

JOHN (earnest): I won’t. I… the boat is just ahead. We need to figure out what happened here, Arthur. Why did they lead us here?

ARTHUR: If this city is the source of this cult, of this King… there must be answers.

JOHN: We’re at the boat.

ARTHUR: Right, I guess let’s… push it in. Quietly, and then cross.

JOHN: Wait.

ARTHUR: Hm?

JOHN: There's a lantern here, hanging from a metal rod.

ARTHUR: So?

JOHN: It’s stretched out over the water and it hangs low.

ARTHUR: What’s up, John?

JOHN: I think maybe we should light it.

ARTHUR: Why? I don’t think we need to draw attention to ourselves. If there is something in the water, I think we should be as quiet and as dark as possible when we cross.

JOHN: Or, perhaps the light is there for a reason.

ARTHUR: I think you’re being a bit paranoid. I’m not going to light the lantern and draw more attention to ourselves than needed.

JOHN: Arthur. I have a feeling.

ARTHUR (dismissive): We’ll be quick and quiet and across the river before your feeling has any time to grow.

JOHN: Alright.

ARTHUR: Where’s the back of the, um –

JOHN: There.

ARTHUR: Right.

(Arthur exerts himself as he pushes the boat, scraping it along the gravel. It lands into the water with a splash.)

ARTHUR: Okay.

(He gets into the boat, settling on the wood. He drips water.)

ARTHUR: Okay. Where are the paddles?

JOHN: No paddles.

ARTHUR: None?

JOHN: None that I can see.

ARTHUR: Damn. Well. Are we pointed towards the far shore?

JOHN: Yes.

ARTHUR: Okay. Er. I guess…

JOHN: If you lean over the bow of the boat, you should be able to reach the water. It’s still and quiet, and you may be able to paddle your way across with your hands.

ARTHUR: Alright. It’s not too far?

JOHN: Not too far, no.

(Arthur settles himself on the boat and starts to paddle, grunting softly. The boat starts to cut through the water.)

JOHN: We’re moving. Slowly.

ARTHUR (out of breath): Right. Tell me if we see anything moving in the water. I’m sure that there are some fish and things, but… down here, I'm happy to be paranoid.

JOHN: Of course. Well, the water, as I said, is black. (Arthur periodically grunts.) As you draw your hands from the water and put them back in, I can see why. Flecks of something cling to your hands as if the lake is stagnant black water, formed of suspended particulates of whatever this substance is.

ARTHUR: Yes, I can feel the grit of it. I don’t know what it is.

JOHN: Unlikely we will find out. Let’s just keep pressing.

ARTHUR: No movement?

JOHN: None around us, though… the water… Arthur, stop for a moment.

(Something banging against wood.)

JOHN: The water does move softly, as if…

ARTHUR: As if what?

JOHN (in a whisper): Arthur, I think something is down there, just below the surface. Move closer.

ARTHUR: No, thank you. I’m quite alright here.

JOHN: No, it’s small. Many small things, I can’t… I can’t quite make it out but they seem to be just along the surface.

ARTHUR: Is there nothing else we can paddle with?

JOHN: Not on the boat.

ARTHUR: Damn. (The sound of something moving along the wood.) Alright, I don’t want to go sticking my hand in without knowing.

JOHN: I think they’ve been there all along. It’s so difficult to see without any light, but… more of them, now. As if they’re swarming.

ARTHUR: Swarming? Do fish swarm?

JOHN: Schooling, I don’t know. I think… I think maybe they’re tadpoles.

ARTHUR: Down here? Unlikely, I –

JOHN: They seem… they look like two-tailed aquatic larvae. They seem to be swimming blindly in the water, without any sort of pattern between them.

ARTHUR: Well, they seemingly didn’t bother us before, so. Here’s hoping.

(He begins to paddle again.)

JOHN: They still seem to be swarming around the boat. I wonder-

ARTHUR: How far are we from the shore?

JOHN: Which?

ARTHUR (mildly annoyed): The far side, John.

JOHN: Halfway, maybe. We’re going too slow to coast.

ARTHUR: Well, maybe if I paddle harder, I can get us gliding. I don’t want to have my hands in here for longer than necessary.

JOHN: There are an awful lot of them now, Arthur. All moving around your hands.

ARTHUR: If I can just get a little lower, then I should be able to… (He sharply reels back.) Ow, fuck!

JOHN (in alarm): Arthur!

ARTHUR: Argh, one of them bit me! Oh! Ugh.

JOHN (disgust): Arthur, it's still in you.

ARTHUR: What?

JOHN: It’s in your arm!

ARTHUR (terrified): Jesus fucking Christ.

JOHN: It’s… it’s worming its way inside of you. (Arthur growls in pain.) Burrowing into your flesh. Arthur, grab it!

ARTHUR (desperate): I’m trying, I’m trying! The tail, it – it’s ripping off.

JOHN: The lamp!

ARTHUR: What?

JOHN: I think it was to drive them away from the boat, it’s so dark down here. The lantern is all the way at the front, just use your lighter!

(Arthur makes noises of pain. He starts to move along the boat.)

JOHN: Arthur, move quickly! It’s almost inside of you.

(The sound of a lighter flicking.)

JOHN: Your hands are wetting the wick.

ARTHUR (steadily more angry): Fuck… fuck… fuck! Come on! (He growls in pain.)

JOHN: Arthur, it is almost inside you. Hold the flame to your skin! Otherwise it won’t be bright enough. (Arthur starts to whimper in pain.) Closer! It’s moving back, you need to press it against your skin to prevent it from moving further in.

(Arthur screams in pain. Something sizzles.)

JOHN: There! It’s fallen from your arm, it’s on the floor of the boat.

(Arthur steps on it with a grunt.)

ARTHUR (breathing hard): What the fuck was that?

JOHN: I don’t know. Something in the water, some… creature.

ARTHUR: Am I… am I bleeding a lot?

JOHN: Somewhat, you have a severe burn on your left arm though.

ARTHUR: Oh, fuck. (He tries to regulate his breathing.) Water creature?

JOHN: I suppose.

ARTHUR: You said larvae.

JOHN: Yes, they look… under-developed.

ARTHUR: Right, right. Well, what the fuck gave birth to them?

(The water splashes. An ominous note rises.)

JOHN (alarmed): We need to get to the shore.

ARTHUR: I’m not putting my hands back in the water.

JOHN: We may not need to. You may have pushed us enough for the momentum to carry us. Sit up so I can see.

(Arthur moves around, scraping against the wood.)

JOHN: Yes, the shore is closing in. It’ll still take… (Urgent.) Arthur, lie back down.

ARTHUR: What?

JOHN (whispering): Something is just below the water to our left. I saw its eyes.

ARTHUR (whispering): Eyes?