S5E2: "Carapace", by Lee Andrew Forman

Leonard has closeted himself away from the world, lost in his own space and mind. Desperate to avoid reality, his self-imposed isolation has become both his protection and his cage.

As unexpected events drive him from the confines of his world, he is forced to confront the unknown where his fears are all too real. Faced with a choice, he must decide whether to stay sequestered and effectively trapped, or run for his life.

Will Leonard overcome his own dire insecurities and flee, or will he remain trapped in a web of his own making?

Cast (in order of appearance):

Leonard: Graham Rowat
Victoria: Amber Collins
Author: Lee Andrew Forman

Score: Nico Vettese of We Talk of Dreams

Sound Design: Daniel Foytik, of 9th Story Studios, LLC

Cover Art: Greg Shaffer

Art Director: Jeanette Andromeda of Jeanette Creations

A 9th Story Studios, LLC Production, All rights reserved.

Support us on Patreon for ad free episodes and extra content.

Get your copy of The Lift, 9 Stories of Transformation Volume One on Kindle, or in print. Visit victoriaslift.com/read to get your copy today.

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THEMES:
“The Lift Arrives, (Opening Theme Music):
“Victoria’s Music Box, (Victoria’s Theme)”
The Lift Closing Theme Music
Composed and Recorded by Nico Vettese of We Talk of Dreams
www.wetalkofdreams.com

FX:
Sound FX: freesound.org, audioblocks.com

Producer / Editor: Meg Williams
Producer / Editor / Creator: Daniel Foytik
Executive Producers: Amber Collins, Nico Vettese
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Victoria’s Lift is created by 9th Story Studios LLC: www.9thstory.com

Victoria’s Lift and all core characters, places, and situations are property of Daniel Foytik, 9th Story Studios, LLC and may not be used in any form without explicit written permission.

Audio program ©2022 – 9th Story Studios LLC. All Rights Reserved.

No reproduction or use of this content is permitted without the express written consent of 9th Story Studios LLC.

Episode Transcript

(00:04):
Ninth Story Studios giving Story a Voice. Welcome to the list, get ready
to take the ride. Hello,and welcome to season five, episode number

(00:40):
two of Victoria's Lift. I'm DanielFoytech, and I thank you for listening.
Today's episode was written for us bya returning author, the very talented
Lee Andrew Foreman. He has writtenaudio fiction for us The Wicked Library,
and has multiple books and collections availableon Amazon, including The Very Creepy Berry
Box. He is also one ofthe masters behind Siren's Call Publishing. You

(01:03):
can find out more about Lee atLee Andrew Foreman dot com. Before we
begin, a sincere thank you tothose of you supporting the show on Patreon.
You truly make this show possible.It's because of your support that I
can continue to pay the very talentedauthors, artist, voice actors, and
composers. Simply, it's your supportthat allows us to continue to make sure
those who contribute to the show donot work for free. A special shout

(01:29):
out to our friend Jeremy. Saul'scharacters based on him and his special friend
Apolo are immortalized in my three parttale Von Hamlin. So, Jeremy,
I know it's hard to lose adear companion. Victoria says she's taking very
special care of Apollo and giving himlots of extra rubs and cuddles, and
he is a very good boy.If you're not yet supporting the show,

(01:49):
you can do that at patreon dotcom forward slash Wicked Library. For as
little as two dollars a month,you can help make the show you love
possible and get fun rewards. Alot of hard work and money goes into
making Victoria's Lift. I really dorely on your support to help me pay
the contributors. In addition to knowingthat you're a part of making this show
possible, you can get fund rewardslike ad free episodes and more. You

(02:12):
can support us at patreon dot comforward slash Victoria's Lift. Today's story is
performed by the incomparable Graham Rowet andthe always spectacular Amber Collins as our girl
Victoria. The episode features a customscored by Nico Vites of We Talk of
Dreams. This story is beautifully darkand packs a punch. Have a seat
and relax as we present a taleabout casting aside, self loathing, seeing

(02:36):
your true nature, and overcoming selfimposed exile in Carapis by Lee Andrew Foreman.

(03:30):
I've lived here longer than I canremember. These walls, whole decades
of dust and smoke and everything else, layers of my life waiting to be
painted over, fresh, new clean. The cracks speak of broken promises and

(03:52):
fractured hearts, the stained wallpaper offaded dreams. I've only wonders are left
among all in me which has died, and that is to stay here in
this crumbling apartment. Some have triedto get me to leave, but my
world is here. I have noreason to go. If I want to

(04:15):
see what's out there, all Ihave to do is look out the sixth
floor window. I loathe this placeas much as myself, but I don't
d'er expose the innocent to my repugnantexistence. I must remain here so the
eyes of the world don't suffer.I'm sustained by drippings from a leaky faucet

(04:40):
and the small meals I can scavenge. My tongue laps at each drip,
my stomach groans at what little itreceives. It's enough to get by,
to survive, to remain within myprison, my cage, my haven.
Footsteps thunder outside the door. Fearthat I'll have to vacate this place always

(05:08):
lurks within my shadow, But theloneliness filling the air as equally suffocating.
Where is the middle ground? Whereis the land of both solitude and tranquility?
Does such a place exist? Oris all hell above and below?

(05:31):
Maybe I've died and this is hell. But I wouldn't be so lucky for
this to be. My punishment wouldalso reveal itself to be a reward.
What devil would extend such a gift? What pleasure would exist in the realm
of damnation? As those trotting shoescome closer, I run for my sanctum

(05:56):
dug tooth and claw into the wall. Backing my closet. I curl up
in my little hole, pulling coversover my body to hide from anything and
everything. But the footsteps pass,and, somewhat relaxed, I allow dreamless
sleep to take me. When Iwake, the door to the closet has

(06:25):
shut, and when I try toget up, my foot pushes through the
thin layer left in the back wall. On the other side, a place
I've never seen waits. I starethrough the hole with curious eyes. The
dim green light seems calming and enticing, Yet I've not left this place in

(06:48):
so long. What waits out thereis not what I want to meet.
My heart begs me to stay,to remain in place, but I'm otherwise
trapped in my little heaven, andas much as I'd like to, I
can't remain forever. I peel awayenough thin wall to exit into this unknown.

(07:15):
Black doors adorn the sides of along hallway, each leading to rooms
I've never seen, places of dreadto be avoided. My legs tremble as
I scurry across the carpet. Myheart thumps. I smell the pungent odor
of my own fear. It bothdrives me and holds me back, moves

(07:41):
me forward while tugging my thoughts towhat's behind. That shadowed hand we all
possess always wants to remain in thepast. It pulls wraps itself around our
throats and chokes us of whatever happinessmight wait in our future paths. Green

(08:03):
fluorescent bulbs flicker above, darkness blinksits eyes. The rapid pounding in my
chest stops from the affraction of time, then resumes its violent action. I
keep forward until I reach the end, holes extending out at both sides.

(08:24):
I look each way to my left, another corridor of unknown length, its
end and unlit mystery. To myright, more of the same, lime
walls and black doors. A repeatingthumb echoes from the darkness. Heavy breaths

(08:46):
gust from the unseen. They carrythe stench of a wanting stomach. A
growl pounds my ears. I don'tknow what's coming. Instinct begs me to
flee. I don't argue. AsI sprint away, the steps behind me

(09:07):
quickened. A chase has begun.Howls of a predatory tone sound from my
hunter. Its jaw slaps opened andshut. I dare not look back to
see how close those teeth are.But hot breath puffs against my back.
The scent of its hunger thickens thevery air in which I run. One

(09:31):
lined, Run as fast as youcan, despite not knowing where the voice
came from. I do exactly that. But my pursuer is closing in,
and my strength is failing. Thehot blood burning through my veins begins to
slow. Every breath is a strugglefor survival all its own. My subconscious

(09:56):
begins to accept mortality, spilling intomy thought says, all too calm realizations
that the end is inevitable. Deathhas arrived and does not wait for anyone,
especially not for a meager creature suchas myself. The door gave for

(10:16):
the door, a portion of walljust large enough for me to fit through.
Opens. I make for it andskid through on scrambling legs. As
it closes behind me, too smallfor the beast to follow, I get
a glimpse at it pointed teeth line, Its more long, scraggly fur covers

(10:39):
its entirety. On four legs,it walks tears, pointed tail, whipping
back and forth in anger of itsprey escaping. As I back up,
a wall immediately stops me. Mistylight creeps in through lay where the plaster

(11:01):
has cracked. This door has ledme inside the wall. I'm deeper in
than I've ever been before, insidea hidden place, a special place that
provides a neurotic comfort to a terrorstricken mind. It must be safe here

(11:22):
in this world, within a world. I make my way through cobwebs and
dust, aimlessly searching the hidden labyrinth. I lose myself in its many paths,
just as I'd lost myself in myown mind. Who I was doesn't
matter, only what I've become,A filthy creature only deserving of a festering

(11:48):
habitat and the scraps of nature onwhich to sustain a lowly existence. A
life better left secret unknown, keptaway from those who possess the will for
joy, who seek out the pleasuresand satisfactions of life. The monotony of

(12:11):
this inner maze, both physical andmental, is as a mirror, one
in which I see the worst reflectionof myself. I gaze in apathy.
There is no shock, no remorse. I witness only what I deserve.

(12:33):
I've been driven deep into my sanctum, deeper still into my mind. My
beady eyes can see from within andwithout. But it doesn't matter, because
ever further I crawl, ever lowerdo I bring my value and expectations.

(12:54):
The whole I've dug is fathoms deepin misery. Just when my indifferent epiphany
reaches its peak, this haven provesunsafe. Its secret has been discovered.
A vicious growl rattles this slender escaperoute. The beast has found its way

(13:18):
in four legs, thumping toward me. Of course, I run, what
else would one do? No matterhow desolate and despaired and accepting of an
emotionally numb fate, the bodies fightfor survival always kicks in. There's no
escaping the need to escape. Naturewon't allow it. Air rushes against my

(13:45):
back as a claw nearly tears flesh. My life is balancing on a thin
line death laughing on the other side. It's pointing a finger directly at me.
I've been chosen to this world inwhich I don't belong. But a
thought comes I'd never expect. It, screams with feverish insistence. I don't

(14:13):
want to die. With that thought, something in me changes, not conjured
by adrenaline and fear, but bya fresh light in my soul, a
new flame to bring life to mydead insides. In a burst of fury,
this revelation nignites my blood boils.I run faster, harder, with

(14:41):
determination. I want to live.That's it limit, Now you've got it.
That kind voice lends hope to myposition in this deadly chase. Sometimes
the prey gets away, the hunterdoesn't always catch its meal. I dart

(15:01):
forward with all the strength I havearound a bend and to a weak spot
on the wall. I claw atthe lathe. A cloud of dust obscures
my vision. But I pull atthis barrier by feeling alone. I must
get away. I must escape thebeast that hungers for my life. It

(15:22):
steps slow as it nears, eachfootfall, a hearted stump of impending doom.
My end is beating its drum,a song of death played for I
and I alone. It is mymelody, my unloving goodbye. Old plaster

(15:43):
finally crumbles and gives way as Ibreak through and spill back into the hall
of doors. But in this hallthere is an end. Darkness has not
claimed it. Calm emerald light shinesfrom the bulbs above, bathed in an
illumination of solace. A girl standsin front of ornate elevator doors. Hello,

(16:11):
linnit, it's nice to finally meetyou. It's the voice, the
one which led me from the depthsof an inner hell and out into the
world of the living, the placewhere all hope is not extinct, where
it grows and flourishes, fills theair with fresh vibrancy. The mystery how

(16:33):
this girl knows me? I hadn'tquestioned it. In the midst of fear,
I only scrambled toward any and allhope, into any light that may
shine. And her voice was thatbrilliant spectrum. So I followed without question
or doubt. But now wonder piquesmy scrabbled mind. It is lost,

(16:59):
as quickly is found. My pursuerbreaks through the hole I made for myself
and into the hole behind me.It shakes off the plaster dust coating its
body. The creature licks its lipsas it paces back and forth, anxious
and waiting to devour my flesh.Despite my frenzied escape, Doom has not

(17:22):
surrendered its pursuit. It has trackedme here, cruel and unrelenting. I
am its meager plaything. But beforedeath can lay its hand upon me,
before its cold grasp can take thebreath from my lungs and the heat from
my body, the girl speaks.She she leave for Lenin alone. She

(17:49):
waves her hand at the pacing beast. It squints its eyes and the owls
incomplaint, before turning and disappearing downthe hall. With a simple, defiant
stance, an effortless confrontation, thisgirl has kept the reaper at bay.

(18:11):
What I mused impossible has occurred beforeme. I thought such strength was reserved
for the vicious and empowered, thespeakers of great stature and doors of amazing
things, never for the meek oraverage among us. But all you need
is a voice. Words possess greatpower. I'm sorry she chased you where

(18:37):
she did. She only sees peopleas they see themselves. The girl looks
down at my pathetic form, theinferior skin I wear, the shield of
scars, burns and bruises, mymental image that shrouds me as the worst
version of myself. That what thehunter saw. I hadn't looked in so

(19:03):
long. I'd forgotten from where Icame, misremembered who and what I am.
This blanket of healed stitching smothers thelight inside, covers all that is
good within me. For too longI have worn it, fused with my
being, It grew wormed its wayinside. It reached for the core of

(19:30):
my soul and suckled until it flickeredout, like a dead star in the
night sky. But through the wordsof this strange girl, it has begun
to retreat. Its greed, formy essence has faltered, and the feast
of suffering no longer satisfies its fadingappetite, a craving for something else,

(19:56):
a longing for what I've feared solong, bonds from my center. It
blooms through my veins and reaches asfar as my extremities will allow. My
soul begins to shine once again.Its warmth releases my inner self from the
slowing cold of dead space. Standup, Lennard, you don't have to

(20:22):
crawl any longer. I didn't knowit was possible until I heard those words.
They had to be spoken, elsethe metamorphosis could never take place.
It was like a spell to breakmyself imposed punishment. I'd banished myself from
humanity, shoved away the pursuit ofhappiness, the right to joy, a

(20:47):
human right while I didn't think Ideserved. I shed my carapace of self
loathing and push myself up, Straightenmy cramped and crooked legs. Bones crack
from their strained positions. As Istraightened myself, I stand tall, breathe

(21:12):
deep. My face looks forward,no longer pointed to the ground, at
my own filth, at the failthof the world. See. I don't
know why you thought of yourself asa rat. You have no tail,
silly. I look down at myhands and curled my fingers to my palms,

(21:33):
my human fingers, my human palms. She's right, I don't have
a tail, nor does fur covermy body. I'd left my humanity behind
at some point, being lost inthis place so long I couldn't stand to

(21:55):
be me, to be the lonelyand unloved, the forgotten and ignored.
I lost every one long ago,and so I misplaced myself here. But
now I have a voice. Ihave the power to start again, to

(22:15):
make a life to live. Comelimmed. You won't be lost any longer
if you leave this place. Ilook at her with watery eyes. My
hands tremble as nerves fire in burstsof reanimating energy. I speak for the
first time, use the will offorce. I've been gifted. I'm afraid.

(22:41):
She motions with her hand and behindher the elevator doors open. I
take a deep breath and step inside. Thank you for listening to episode two

(23:12):
of season five. Today's author wasLee Andrew Foreman with his story Carapass.
Today's story featured Graham Rowitt as Leonardand Ambercollins as Victoria. Our season five
producers are Daniel Foytech and Meg Williams. Our resident composer and music director is
Nico Vites of We Talk Of Dreams. Our art director is Janet Andromeda.

(23:34):
Artwork for today's episode was created byGreg Schaefer, our webmaster and graphic designer.
Our editors are Meg Williams and DanielFoytech. To find out more about
today's contributors and all the members ofour team, please visit Victoria'slift dot com
and check out their biopages. Ifyou'd like to help us keep bringing you
Victoria's adventures, please consider supporting uson Patreon at patreon dot com, forward

(23:56):
Slash Victoria's Lift. Victoria's Lift iscreated by Ninth Story of Studios LLLC.
All rights reserved.