Ninth Story Studios giving Story a Voice. Welcome to the list, Get ready
to take the ride. Hello, I'm Daniel Fotchni. Thank you for joining
us for a special episode of Victoria's Left. Today we're presenting the third chapter
of our ten part mini series by Christopher Long Entitled to Those Who Thrive in
the Dark. The series dives deep into the mythos of Victoria's world and features
Victoria facing ancient gods, faith folk monsters, old enemies, and certain little
brother with ulterior motives. Before we get started today, a big thank you
to those who are supporting the show. Those supporting the show at the five
dollars a month level and above, here are these episodes before anyone else.
And honestly, it's you, the supporters, that make this show possible.
If you're not yet supporting the show and you'd like to do that, you
can do so at patreon dot com. Forward slash Victoria's Lift, And in
case you didn't know, this series will also be released as a novella at
the end of the run, with an expanded story that takes us deeper into
Victoria's world. Now, hold on tight and let's go for a ride into
the shadows on Victoria's lift. Victoria's left to those who thrive in the dark.
Chapter three, Anon Shiny by Christopher Long. What do you want?
You've been hiding this room from me again, haven't you. It's nice I
asked you a question, merit. I know you move it around at night,
trying to keep it to yourself. No, I don't. You never
did like sharing. That's why you wait until you think we're all asleep before
you start changing things, keeping all your secrets safe for another day. I
don't know what you're talking about, Fine, be that way. I always
find out what I want in the end. Then why are you here?
I don't have time to worry about you right now. I came because I
heard you crying, and now I suppose you're going to laugh at me.
No, I came to check on you. Something isn't right with you,
Victoria. Everybody here can feel it. Stop pretending you care about me.
Just go back to whatever dark little corner you call home and leave me alone.
I'm not pretending. Well. You're not fooling anyone, whether you want
to admit it or not. We're all we really have here. Without me,
you'd be on your own if You're all I have. Then I am
on my own. Who else is there? The cats? Your little helpers
out in the big wide world. None of your friends ever stick around for
long. Most of them probably forget you as soon as they step out of
your lift. If it wasn't for me, you'd be completely alone. I
am not alone. Don't stamp your foot at me. I'm your brother.
Is it so hard to believe that? I want to help you? But
you're not? Are you? You haven't been my brother for a long time?
Only in the same way you're not completely my sister. But under everything
this place put on us, we're still who we were. You're still bossy,
You're still annoying and spoilt, And I know something is upsetting you.
What's that got to do with anything? Only I get to upset my big
sister. If anyone else tries it, they have to answer to me.
Well, I'm fine, so you can go away. Now You're not fine,
You're a mess. I just got a little sad, that's all.
As your precious lift finally seized up. Is that it so many souls to
save, no way to ferry them to their tests? Oooho, It's nothing
like that. It's this flower. That's not a flower. It's a weed.
It is not a weed at least I don't think it's a weed.
I've been trying to help it grow, but it won't mudge. It doesn't
die, and it won't grow. It's stuck like us. And that made
you cry like a little baby. I knew you wouldn't understand. After everything
we've been through, you're crying over a little weed that shouldn't even be here.
I I dream about it blooming. My other won't let me dream your
other. I haven't slept since the day you fell. It won't let me.
It lets me feel tired sometimes, just like it lets me feel hungry
or thirsty. It likes me to suffer, so I don't forget it's there.
It won't forgive me because of that stupid music box. I know you
keep looking for it. That's not me. I'm not in charge of that,
not always. Then maybe we can get it out of you. You
can't even make a weed grow. I'm serious. We have all of these
books, or maybe I'm not like you. I don't get to be like
you. You have things to do. You have a raise on Detra,
a purpose that was meant for me. Now, all I'm meant to be
is your opposite. I'm meant to hurt you, stop you, upset you.
But I don't want that, not all the time. That's my other.
Why do you think I keep away? I just assumed you were up
to some You don't know how much it takes to keep myself out of reach.
It can get so lonely in the darkest corners of this place. I
never thought about it before, but I won't have you feeling rotten, Victoria.
Not are the something so stupid as a weed. It is not stupid,
and it is not a weed. It matters. Everything here matters.
You've never understood that, Oh, everything matters, does it? How often
do you go down to the basement, Victoria. People make their choice.
The ones you go down there have no one to blame but themselves. You
see, you're spoiled. Stop calling me that, but you are. You
act like you're only leading people to the lions den and holding the door open
for them. When they're torn to shreds. You pretend like it had nothing
to do with you. You like to think your little hands are so clean.
It's not true, and you know it. You make everything here so
complicated choices. Who needs to waste their time on choices? Most of your
visitors have already made their decision, So why tempt people when you can just
get straight to their punishment. I'm not tempting anyone. Besides, if I
thought like you, then this whole building would be the basement. You see.
You think you don't think like me, but you do. You only
act like you're the nice one. The people down in the dark don't think
you're nice. I told you they made their choice, which you offered them.
Stop trying to confuse me. I'm not in the mood for any of
your game. Fine pounce will blow your green eyes at me. No one's
coming to make you feel better, And I won't tell you how to make
that flower grow either. I don't know why I'm listening to you. You
don't even know how to spell guarden. Just because you're the eldest doesn't mean
you know everything. I know every part of this place. I've explored it
top to bottom. I know how it all works. Also, I've spent
a lot of time in Father's garden before we ever came here. Father headed
garden. We went out there to relax. He would go out in the
mornings and chase the birds away from his fruit, or watch the bees busy
buzzing between his flowers. He would take me with him sometimes when I was
very little and I couldn't sleep. I can remember all of it here.
How I don't remember his garden. My mother lets me see things when I've
been good. That's why I remember father taking me outside and teaching me the
names of all the plants. He showed me how to grow them, how
to save them when they're sick. But this plant isn't in a garden,
so it's still a plant, and you you really want to help me.
It's only a weed. What harm could it do to help you grow a
weed? I just want a little favor in return. What sort of favor
you won't like it? Try me. I want to hear the music box
play. How stupid do you think I am? You want me to let
you play with the music box. You keep trying to steal from me,
the music box that we is meant to be mine. You mean I didn't
steal it? You did, I didn't steal It doesn't matter. I just
want to hear one tune, and we both know it won't play for me.
Not since your foreign friend fiddled with the controls and fixed it only for
you. That's why I need you to play it. I don't know.
Please, I promise I won't even try and hold it. There's no other
music here, not unless someone down in the basement starts to sing. Or
there's music in one of the rooms. But that's not music, not really,
that's just more of this place. I want to hear something from outside,
and if I do that, you'll help me cross my heart hope to
die. No tricks, no tricks. We'll have a truce like father used
to do if he was too tired to keep playing. I remember that he
would wave his pocket square and say, truth, that's right. That's what
I'm doing today. I'm here to help my big sister. Okay, fine,
I'll let you play one tune if you show me how to save my
plant. Thank you, thank you so much. She won't regret it,
I promise, And it's going to be easy, really easy. Have you
ever killed two birds with one stone? That's just an old saying. It
depends on how good your aim is and how sharp your stone is. Look
that music box can do things with its music. You've seen it happen.
So turn the handle, hold the lid open, and play something to your
weed. It will grow and I'll get my tune. It can't be that
simple. I don't know why you didn't think of it yourself. Look at
the lid the tree of course, See you don't know everything. Come on,
why won't you work? It's not playing anything. I don't think it
likes me being this close, so I'll stand outside the door. But you
wanted a tune, I'll still hear it. You can't blame it for not
trusting me. You don't trust me, I'd like to trust you. Ready.
I know we don't like him, and I know we can't exactly trust
him, but he looks so lonely, and he came to check on me.
He's never done that before. Maybe he's trying to tell me that I'm
all he has here. Please do this for me. Two birds, one
stone, remember, ready, by Try not to picture the look on her
brother's face as he lingered just beyond the door, probably with a hand clutched
over his grinning lips to keep the smug little chuckles thin. Trust me when
I say that's a smile. You never need to see merrit it's working,
it's growing. He wasn't wrong when he said he knew that place well.
He'd scoured every inch of it whilst he listened to the dark voice in his
head whispered answers to all his questions. They had found the shadow in the
basement. Together, they had seen the seed clutched in its bony grasp,
and known this was their chance to take back what was rightfully theirs. They
had made the deal which led to this catastrophe. How do I make it
stop? Oh? That plant grew all right. It grew roots like elephant
trunks or tentacles, branching with the strength of wrecking balls. It didn't just
grow, It stampeded, frithed, it evaded. Everything it touched, was
demolished, laught as little more than crumbling shreds. The walls, the floors,
everything gave way to the monstrous tree born from old magic. Oh,
that smug little monster must have known he was about to win. A minute,
he heard her drop. Her music grows. I can reach you,
but it was no use. Our little hero was desperate. She was reaching
too far. She'd forgotten to check her footing. She was lucky she managed
to grab that remaining splintering for him, not that it would buy her a
lot of time, rot help, I can't hold on, Oh dear,
has someone dropped this fine looking music box? Not that anyone present was likely
to help her. Thank goodness, I remember to keep hold of this old
crank when that inventing friend of yours got all creative. This isn't you.
I know, this isn't you. You have to fight your dark bits.
He called it. True. You had such a strong grip last time,
clinging to my music box. Let's see how strong you are now. We've
all seen brothers and sisters tormenting each other through one game after another. Well,
there was murder in this wain. There was hatred in this brother's eyes
that could have burned a hundred for us. As he raised his heel over
his sister's failing grip and stamped down hard. This little piggy went to market.
Very don't do this. This little piggy stayed home. No, I
can't mold on. Victory is rarely a pretty thing, But that day,
in that place, victory was in aberration. It was a sour rain,
full of destruction and pain and splinters. This little piggy had roast beef,
please, and this little piggy had none. H And that day, for
the second time in her life, the little girl fell so far that she
felt like she would never hit the ground. And all the time she fell,
she knew this was only happening because she wanted so desperately to trust some
one she used to love and still did despite many reasons she shouldn't. Thank
you for joining us today for our third chapter of our special ten part mini
series by Christopher Long to those who Thrive in the Dark. Big thank you
to our supporters on Patreon for making the show and this mini series possible.
If you're not yet supporting the show, you can do that at patreon dot
com. Forward slash Victoria's Left. Today's episode featured Cynthia Loman as Cuckoostone,
our Tales narrator, Ambercollins as Victoria, and Louis Pollard as Merit. Sound
design was created by Davis Walden, our sound designer and the creator of The
Verdian Wild podcast. The Verdian Wild is a fantasy adventure audio drama podcast featuring
mytho zoologist Sebastian Verwood as he travels the world studying magical Creatures. You can
find the show at the Verdianwild dot com. That's v I R I D
I A N, or you can subscribe to it wherever you get your podcasts.
Today's custom score, all incidental music, and our intro and outro themes
were created by our resident composer, Nico vites Off We Talk of Dreams.
Find Nico at We Talk of Dreams dot com and streaming on Twitch. Artwork
is by Janet Andromeda, illustrator, artist, YouTuber and all around amazing human.
Find her being creative at Janette Creations dot com. Our author is Christopher
Long. You can find him at Cjlongwords dot com. Chris has been featured
on Victoria's Lift, Shadows at the Door, and The Wicked Library multiple times.
More of his work is available on Amazon. Story editor and producer is
Daniel Foyteck of Ninth Story Studios. That's me until next time. Keep your
music box wound and follow Victoria on Twitter at lift guide. That's right,
Victoria has her own Twitter account. Head over to Twitter and give her a
follow at lift guide