Nine Story Studios, James Story a voice. Welcome to the lift, get
ready to take a ride. Hello, I'm Daniel Foytek, and I thank
you for joining us for a special episode of Victoria's Lyft. Today, we're
presenting the third of five mini episodes for Christmas, called a Little Lyft for
the Holidays. Full sized episodes are coming, but until then, let's join
Victoria for today's tale, Matchless by L. B. Waltz, told by
Mary Murphy, Amber Loverling, Nay Collins and me. Thank you to all
of you for being a part of Victoria's Christmas celebration. Check back tomorrow for
our next tale. You can wait inside. You know it's wolmer in here.
Elena is in certain which startles her more. The voice or the offer
neither had been expected. Either might have made her jump had she felt capable
of movement. As it is, she remains frozen still as the ice covered
bricks that comprise the building against which she's huddled. The girl in the doorway
grins, her eyes as green as a Christmas tree, her teeth the color
of the winter moon. The taste lounge in my lobby might be old,
but it's a far cry more comfortable than cobbles. Oh, I I'm not
leaving, aren't you. I'm trying to sell that is I've worked to do.
Don't be silly. It's hard, too late for that. No,
it's not time for you to work. It's time for you to rest.
But I insist you wait inside. It's cold as death out here. Come
along. Without leaving the doorway, the girl grasps Alena's frigid hand. For
as heavy as she had felt moments before, it only takes a gentle tug
for the girl to coax Elena upright. Even less effort is needed to pull
her into the vestibule. Oh. The building is massive, more hotel than
home, full of complex brass work, detailing and polished cherrywood. Mistletoe hangs
over closed doors, garlands vanished down long halls. Dust smotes glimmer in the
air like snowflakes caught in suspension, and as the oil lamps haze glints off
their edges, Elena finds herself wondering vaguely about time. What an odd place.
Still, the girl had been right, it is warmer in here.
Meekly, Elena allows herself to be guided through the elegant lobby bustled around couches
and curio displays, and over to an ornate hearth, A yule log sits
cradled in its heart. It is yet unused that log, and so should
probably look fresh. Instead, it appears to be quite old, like a
remnant from a memory, or a toy, the sort with which one might
play a game of pretend. Somewhere in the building, a clock tolls.
The poor thing. He must be so cold. Oh, start afire,
now, let's see where did I put? Oh I can, I can
help not to worry. You're my guest. Please let me repay you for
your kindness. I have matches, they're right. Uh oh oh no,
I'm so sorry. I forgot I I use them all earlier, though you
did. The little girl snaps her fingers, a sound like striking flint.
Behind her, the yule log ignites with a burst flames, crackling and dancing
as if they'd been roaring for hours. This time Elena can and does jump.
My lord, how did while we're on this subject, I didn't realize
that residuals were leaking for my building. I suppose that rather explains the draft
residuals. I'm curious, Elena, what visions did you see? How?
How did you know that? I wait, I never told you my name?
What did you see in the mattress fire, Elena? Was it a
source of anger? Perhaps resentment, some secret or lie that you've told yourself
for another? No? No, I I saw my grandmother? Your grandmother?
Is she someone you miss? Yes? Very much from the sixth floor.
Then thank you, Elena. You've been a great help. Consider my
kindness repaid in food. What what do you mean? What is happening?
Who are you? I think the more important question is who is that?
Baffled Elena follows the gesticulating sweep of the girl's arm. A gasp stoppers any
further demands from escaping her mouth. Grandmother, The woman in the blaze as
elderly and beautiful, with wisps of pale hair that undulate about her temples.
Her curves are soft, her eyes are shining, and her smile glows with
a radiance even warmer than the flames in which she stands. When she nods,
the whole of Elena's body is bathed in rose gold lights. I told
you that you were waiting for someone. Trembling, Elena reaches for her grandmother's
outstretched hand, overwhelmed by the familiar constellations of her ember bright liver spots.
When they touch, there is no pain. There is only the velvet comfort
of her grandmother's skin. There is only the floral sweetness of her grandmother's perfume.
There is only joy. I'm leaving now. I think grandmother will be
taking me home. Mind how you go? Good Bye, Elena. The
fire puts itself out with a celestial flash. There are no ashes left in
the grate. The yulog remains unburned. Merry Christmas. And then she is
alone again, alone in the dark lobby. Sighing, Victoria turns towards the
nearest window, glancing out into the night. The stars that twinkle beyond those
frosted panes illum, the contours of the pale blue body that lies curled in
her building's shadow. I'd rather thought you'd had your feel of children's corpses on
a nearby table. Victoria's music box trills. The offered melody is discordant,
melancholic. It harmonizes perfectly with the distant chime of her lift. Right of
course, to work, with purposeful steps, Victoria returns to her lift,
there is no time to rest. Thank you to our supporters for making the
show possible. Today's episode featured Mary Murphy as Elina and Amber Loverling as Victoria.
Today's custom score was created by our resident composer, Niko Vites of the
Inkee Pop Print. Artwork is by Jesse Hawk of the Inky Pop Print.
Our author is LB Waltz. Story editor and producer is Daniel Foytek of Ninth
Story Studios Until Tomorrow. Are you sure that's an angel standing on the top
of your tree or is it a little girl with a very odd music box?