This episode contains mature language and situations. Listener discretion is advised. You wake
to the sound of a train, the clack clack clack of wheels in the
distance. Is that the sound of birds in a forest. No, it's
angels in a choir. Or is it demons from hell? It doesn't matter.
You have no memory of how you got here. All you know is
that you are lost, and that now you belong to the Gray Rooms.
Hello, roomies, and welcome to episode eighteen. They say in space,
no one can hear you scream, not even the warden if he could believe
it. It. Hey, that's right, roommates, we got a twisted
tale for you, this time that we plucked out from the endless void of
space. Join us as author Stephen Prowse takes us on a wild ride that
will take your breath away. We'd like to remind everyone that Gray Rooms Productions
has expanded its reach. We now have access to control Operator Jeff and The
Ghost Signal podcast, true tales about hauntings, sightings, the paranormal, and
exorcisms from beyond the Grave. So search for The Ghost Signal on Spriaker or
your favorite podcatcher, or visit Jeff and the Ghost Signal at the Ghost Signal
podcast dot com. So, without further ado, please enjoy episode eighteen.
Cal. All I'm saying is that I like this side of you. You
turning a blind eye while letting me play it rough with fish boy. Well
it excites a girl. You're not going to let this go, are you?
No? I'm not. What are we going to do with the one
we had to put in chains? That robot fuck will be fine. He's
just he just needs to shut the fuck up. No, our special angelic
friend, oh him. I think we should recheck his restraints in the warding.
I don't trust those restraints. If the architect wanted him out of the
picture, she should have just let us kill him. Do you have that
kind of power? Why don't you come back to my room and I'll show
you. Why don't you check on the doctor. I'll see if I can
convince your money to make her next choice without all the mortal drama associated with
making a decision. Sure, I'll do all the heavy lifting. Wouldn't want
you to ruin those soft hands. Survive, evade, resist, escape.
That was one of the last things took said to me before they took them
away. Really, suspicions have been confirmed. Each train car is exactly like
the interdimensional pockets that popped up all over Earth. These species are connected by
doors that serve as portals to pass between them. The transition between the rooms
is confirmed by suspicion when no movement was detected in the confined area. Also,
the interference on these magnetic records easily picks up the changes. Moving from
one caller to the other. Isn't random either, But I didn't sense or
reads the desire of the front occupant and manifests the desired reality. The only
thing I can't figure out is why movement is simulated in all the rooms.
Why a train? I think that you beat a bell or something makes some
noise. Next time, come dine with me, we'll talk. Do I
have a choice? Ironically, yes, you do. I could force you,
but things around here run much smoother when you comply. I think I'll
just go there. Why is it that humans always put up the most resistance?
A little thing called free will? Ah, Yes, the infamous free
will of humans. Give me a break. In almost every reality. All
you do is destroy yourselves with your free will? What do you mean in
almost every reality. Have a seat. Ah, how's your time being in
the gray rooms? Constant paranoia and demonic captors? Oh, and dying all
the time. It's been a great stay. Well, it's all part of
the process. Wine. You keep saying that, but then having a real
hard time believing you, And No, I don't want your damned wine.
I wish management would just send you to us intact, and I think it
would make this process easier. Intact. Is there something we're missing? What
is the last thing you remember before arriving on this train. I was separated
from my battle group in London. No, I isolated myself. I found
information at a dig site about a weapon that could help us fight back against
the monsters. Libert Altierimundi the Book of the Other World. How did you?
How did I know? I arranged for you to find it? Well,
my mother and her associates. That doesn't make sense. Hmm. But
do you remember what happened afterward? I? I I don't know. I
woke up here. Huh. What's it worth to you to know how you
got here? I'd rather know why I'm here than how I don't even know
where here is? Those are easy questions to answer, you were here to
choose, and you're on the Gray Room's silver express Choose. Do you be
the forms the doors? Yes? Does it matter which door I pick?
Why do I even have to pick a door at all? It doesn't matter
what door you pick, only that a choice is made. If you don't,
the results are less than optimal. How about we make a deal?
Not interested, I'll return some of your memories to you. It will help
fill in some missing pieces, but only if you pick a door with no
resistance. How does that help me? It will grant you some much needed
clarity, and you can help us with the other guest at Findley, his
mind is fracturing beyond our ability to repair. I think you may be able
to help him. How can I help? I can't fix a brain.
That's where your return to memories come into play. You unlocked the secrets of
the book once. I believe the knowledge will help both of us reach the
same goals, get this project back on track. What about Zuck? What
about it? You and your partner what's her name? Cries? You were
pretty rough at the last platform. His people are difficult under the best of
circumstances. I think he was sent here as my punishment. You don't exactly
look like you're suffering. He's the reason I'm stuck in servitude to this damn
place instead of at my mother's side. He's the reason I have to wear
this mask. M hmm, do we have a deal or not? All
right? Deal? Excellent, Let's move to the exit. We'll be stopping
soon. Mh Holy shit, you spark pretty good. This is great.
Fuck you you deepon bitch. Ah. That's the nicest thing anyone said to
me in a while. H sock, How are you overcoming the memory blocks?
What makes you so goddamn special? Dam where's my son? Where's Daniel?
You can remember everything, but you don't remember killing your own son.
Interesting, he didn't die. He transcended. That's what I said. He
died. Impossible. Nothing in any reality is created or destroyed. It merely
changes form. Daniel transcended into a pure soul, and you stole him before
I could stabilize his vessel. You aren't going to give a robot a soul.
That's not how any of this works. You talk of rules and natural
laws, how about machines don't get fucking souls? Why not? Because then
the soul would be trapped on the ephemeral plane. Do you think hell is
going to be denied? It's soul traffic or the mouth all because of a
fluke loophole. I knew it. I knew this was hell. Fuck.
It appears Daniel was more right than he will ever know. Which master do
you serve? Which circle do you serve under? If? If I tell
you, you're gonna spill, how you overcame the memory blocks? Never I
think your usefulness to this project is over? There you are? What the
fuck? Come on down? We gotta go up? How did you find
me? Never mind? Get me off this contraption? Entitlement or thank you
for calling? I appreciate your cooperation. I don't know how I'm supposed to
help Finley or how you're going to return my memories? Have you made your
choice? Entitlement somehow feels fitting given the nature of this place. Are you
going to return my memories? Right now? Where? It's hard to fathom
the immensity of space until you wake up floating alone in the dark, and
somewhere within the vast nothingness, you have to face the reality of true helplessness.
In water, you twist your hips and kick your legs and you can
spin around in space. You do it, and you barely change your trajectory.
You just start spinning out of control. Luckily, with so very little
around you, you don't get nauseated like you do on the teacups. Still,
I wish I hadn't done that. While spinning, I searched for the
Vespucci. She was one of the first stellar research vessels. And she was
mine, well not mine, she should have been mine. She was nowhere
in sight, and I'm spinning out of control somewhere between Saturn and Uranus onitive
dover damage US and we talk to care and Supply within thirty minutes. It
took just under two years to reach Saturn's moon Hyperion. We orbited that odd
rock for more than six months, taking readings of its unique static energy,
radiation routine crap sample study, send reports, repeat no breakthroughs tedium. Once
the team was satisfied we'd achieve that directive, the captain gave the order to
fire up the engines on my mark ionic booster burn at fifty percent for fifteen
seconds periapsis of eighty meters at forty degrees north by twenty degrees south right Mark
Highland segnaty normal shields holding. Is that a gradiation and chin when we reach
Periapsis ionic boosterburn at one hun Periapsis in three two one manty sat still green.
Captain, I'm picking up some sort of energy surge on the surface status.
I'm reading zero effect on shoes fectually antiperty holding. The census censors are
showing all systems no slingshot complete, Captain, Hoosters, what was that readings?
Right before it hit us looked almost like some sort of solar flare just
from Hyperion's static field. If I had to guess, I'd say our close
approach somehow attracted it. How could that happen? I've never seen anything like
that. It did adjust our course, though, We're going to need to
do a corrective burn soon or we'll never reach our Kuiper belt of Felion.
Before we do that, I want a full diagnostic every system, every bolt.
Something that hits us hard enough to change our course could bite us in
the ass. For the next twenty seven hours, we inspected every inch of
the Vespucci and found a little more than some surface dust that had blown up
from Hyperion. Our next burn corrected our course and we were on route to
our two year research orbit of how Maya in the Kuiper Belts beyond Neptune.
After some time, we fell back into our regular research routines. I was
taking some of the dust samples we collected from the hull to doctor Brady for
bioscans. I must be getting close to bedtime. What holy crap. I
searched the corridors nearly twenty minutes for that dog. I know I saw a
dog, but found nothing. I told the doc who just sent me off
duty, eat and sleep. He said, told me, I have to
check back in before I can return to duty. Vespucci's galley was a long,
rectangular room lined with cabinets containing various prepackaged meals. Doc Brady kept the
shelves stocked with rations. In the center of the room was a single rectangular
table with three stools on either side and one on each end. All of
it was fixed to the floor, plenty of room for eight people, even
though the ship's compliment was only five. The ship's engineer was already there,
Mendisa a Bobbio. I hadn't met her before we began training for this mission.
I get that she may have been the best and brightest Ghana had to
offer. But this was an American ship. One would think there'd have been
plenty more qualified mechanics around, but Nassa had probably needed to massage the international
community to get us fully funded. Engineer Ababio was having a whispered conversation with
Jarrett Washington. With a name like Washington, you'd think he'd been made of
steel instead. This bookworm gets lifted out of the South side of Chicago,
handed a degree and made it on to the mission roster as our psychologist as
well as Brady's biological assistant. Apparently they knew each other. They stopped talking
when I walked in and stayed quiet while I grabbed a dry steak kit and
water pouch. I sat down at the far end of the table from them.
How are you, Commander? According to the doctor, I'm tired.
Judging by the looks I get everywhere, I'm crazy. No one thinks you're
crazy, Sir, could have fooled me. This mission has us all on
edge. Mendesa and I were just discussing some of the anxiety dreams we had
when we first left Port. I took a cultural psychology class as part of
my bachelor's at LSU, I mean lent the story of Doumboo Hag. I
finally had a name for the sleep paralysis I've suffered from childhood. I know
she's not true, but it felt good to It's at the phenomenon in feels
as if it was something I could fight. I don't think some goddamn imaginary
which is attacking me in my sleep. What are you sweating, Commander?
How the hell did flies get on board? Someone needs to check our food
supply, got it. There's nothing there, Commander. Captain at ease?
What were you seeing? Commander? I knew it was impossible there were no
bugs on a sealed and clean ship in the middle of our solar system.
But I swear I had been attacked by a swarm of massive flies. Just
before the Captain entered the galley, I saw one land I hit it with
my tray. There was nothing there, Commander, I must have been the
stress. I haven't been sleeping well since hyperion. Are we sure there was
nothing in that flare? Commander, go see Dak have him give you something
to help you sleep. Mendiza, I know you already ran the scans,
but I want a full work up every system, every inch of the ship.
Captain and Jarrett, I want you and Dak to run full evals on
the entire crew. Every test you two can think of, bloodwork, psych
evals, cat scans, MRIs hell. If you think anal probes will tell
us something, do it. Crew and mission safety are paramount. Uranus is
our last possible you turn for home before the Kuiper belt. If we need
to use it, I need to know a zap Yes, Sir. An
overreaction bordering on ridiculous, ordering tests on everyone when it was clear that I
was her target. I don't know how that woman landed the Captain's chair instead
of me, but I suspected had something to do with who she knew.
I made my way to sick Bay, the section of the ship der Dak
Brady calls home. He was a late ad to the crew, another confused
person with too much education and not enough common sense. Dak ran me through
the usual tests. Reflex site auditory, checked my breathing, drew blood,
scheduled a brain scan for my next sleep cycle. Everything he did either turned
up no results or needed time to process. He was slow because he couldn't
do the job properly fifteen minutes until their supply we could stock to city.
Please find an alternate, alternate point. The next few days were a blur.
The crew suffered pokes and prods and the mental gymnastics Jared Washington put us
through, while at the same time scrubbing every system topped to bottom, looking
for whatever was attacking us, at acking me. For most of those three
days, I saw nothing more than shadows shifting when I sat alone in my
bunk, things that would sprint through the corners of my periphery. When the
blood results came back, Dak gave me the news we all expected, nothing
was physically wrong with me. I made my way back to my bunk,
pissed at the inept grew. I'd been saddled with a confused doctor, a
counselor more interested in fluffing egos than actually doing his job, an engineer who
couldn't fathom the complexities of American ingenuity, and a captain who likely slept her
way to the top. That's when things really went sideways. Who's there is
someone there? Who where are you? I grabbed a pipe wrench from a
tool locker near by and held it ready to swing on the intruder ermy I
saw her through the airlock window. She stood thin and naked and pale.
Her skin glistened with sweat, yes looked scaly and dry. Her body was
perfect, long legs stretched to a neatly trim tuft of light brown hair that
covered her sex. Her long blonde hair draped past her shoulders and almost cradled
her breasts. Her chiseled face was accented by thick red lips, perfect teeth,
and a thin nose that gracefully swooped up her eyes. Her eyes were
empty. They were bright and blue and sparkled, but they were somehow dead
and hollow. Her gaze dug into my brain. She stood in the center
of the airlock, completely unfazed by the absolute coldness of that room. I
lowered the pipe wrench and stared back. I've been reading you find you a
superior human specim imprisoned Fabian at the mercy You called me, I called.
As she spoke, she moved towards the door. She never took a step,
yet she got closer and closer to me, and I to her,
And I couldn't move my eyes away from hers. I swear she changed from
woman to child to man and back again. But I wasn't sure, because
her eyes and her voice consumed me. You're kind these destiny for greatness.
Your feet, the canking STARp tenify your world of this under your mighty fist.
But your people become bluted, weakened. Back up chapter death, back
compassion. You abandoned your divine social structure. You turned your back on your
place with increas. Look at the cruel of your ship. We confuse upset
again, meant to be heroes to the universe, and instead he slaying to
the unknown. Its explorers not congruous. Week I. She and I reached
the airlock window and placed fingertips against it. I swear they touched through the
glass. I could feel her warm skin despite the cold window. Leadership hip
which special people to me reading the copies, you could be powerful, It
might be great. I could see her skin, flaky and wet, begin
to darken, as if it were burning. The pink flesh turned black with
a sizzle. Where there would have been a shriek of pain, there was
only laughter. Then she was gone, you gone. She was behind me.
She was not a human anymore. She was a shadow with all of
space swirling within her. The station began to rattle and quake around me.
Everything shook except her. Whatever she was, she would tear my ship apart.
I had to stop her. The wrench was the only thing I had,
and it was effective. She went down hard as I swung through where
her head would have been. The shaking stopped. Everything stopped. I looked
at the body on the ground. It wasn't the shadow thing. It was
a woman, head bashed and blood spreading. It was Captain Quintero. I
stared in silence at the blood oozing from her open skull. I knelt and
watched it leap down under the floor grates till I d weakness to what she
must. I dropped the wrench and opened the airlocked door, before lifting and
dragging the Captain's body in, I pressed a couple of buttons and the door
closed. That soothing whisking sound was the outer door opening and Quintero's body being
blown into the emptiness of space. Once it closed, I watched her float
limply away through the airlock windows. Her body was now as useless as she
had always been. What have you done, jarrett I, What did you
just do? Have to screen you? You know what must be done.
I haven't alert about an airlock opening. The captain is I left into action.
I couldn't get a good grip on his throat, but I shoved him
back and we knocked over the toolbox before falling to the floor. He got
his foot against my stomach and pushed me off of him. I landed on
a screwdriver and grabbed it before he could get fully to his feet. I
was back on him and stabbed it through the soft flesh in his hand.
I didn't see his other hand swing connected hard with my face and knocked me
down before kicking me in the side. The cat right. I staggered to
my feet before seeing the bolt gun we had for plaiting repairs. I grabbed
that and pursued Jarrett to the galley. The idiot had managed to corner himself.
No, no, no, come enter do my leg tear snappy,
same steepy of your rightful place? Who will prevent you from fulfilling your greatness?
Fancying your species? Good commander? What are you doing? Who?
We must achieve our destiny, Jarrett. This thing that boarded us knows us
and knows how we have failed as a people. It will help save us
all you're you're hallustenating. It's not it's not real. You have to no,
this will be quick now. I don't know who hit me, dak
Ramendisa, but someone powered hit me hard from behind. You were a powerful
They couldn't handle the truth. Instead, I woke up in a space suit
in the vast nothingness of space, left behind, abandoned. My mission failed,
Humanity failed, all because an entitled few couldn't see the truth that I
saw. If only they would have fallen in my down very well be like
the turn things ah. I don't want to talk anymore about my ship Oxican
level of zero percent there has made total toxic thing and being sounds like ah
ah ah h. Entitlement Written by Stephen Prouse, featuring performances by Aaron King
as Captain Quintero, David Cummings as the Commander, Antoinette Barry Snow as Mandissa,
C. M. Peters as the voice of the computer, Michael Turntine
as Jared, and Jason Wilson as to voice. If Nothing Break Nothing Moves.
Written by Arthur Unk, featuring performances by Danielle Ellett as a Money,
Jeff Clement as Zuck, Jack Carmichael as Fendley, Brandon Greene as caliban A,
Tanya Maloyevich as Cries. Musical composition was by J. M. Schurf.
Episode artwork, web development and creative direction by Cassie Pettit, Social media
and Patreon management by Brooks Bigley. Videography is by Hale Schurf. Audio engineering
and sound designed by me Jason Wilson, suck Itt, Ridley Scott. We
got someone to write us our own space horror. Only a few episodes are
left and minutes our own game over. We hope that your journey with us
has been filled with the squishy sounds you know and well love. This season
has featured several new authors that we hope return to terrify us in the best
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time in our exclusive board of director's bathroom. Well eighteen is come and gone.
Two left, one more episode and then the finale. Let's not forget
about the compilation episodes. Balan's always really fun to go back and relive this
season of the Great Rooms. A ton of stuff left on our plate.
There's still a lot of work to get done, so with that, we're
going to leave you this time, but we'll be back to bring you the
clothes of season four. So thanks again and we'll see you next week.
This has been a Great Rooms Audio production copyright twenty twenty two twenty twenty three.
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