VL: To Those Who Thrive in The Dark, Ch. 5 "Weaving Spiders Come Not Here"

Patreon Supporters hear these mini-series episodes first.

The past is a field sown with the bones of old tragedies.

Once there was a time when every field spoke of death and farmers found themselves fighting for their life against the very soil they’d tilled in hope of growing crops.

For one family, the dust bowl is about to take a far greater toll, which threatens to spread through all of history.

A toll following in the footsteps of a vengeful god.

Cast (in order of appearance):

Cuckoo Stone, Narrator: Cynthia Lowman
Anders Larsen: Sven Maertens
Ingrid Larsen: Erika Sanderson
Jacob Larsen: Erika Sanderson
Ursa (The Bear): Karim Kronfli

Author: Christopher Long of Long Words

Score: Nico Vettese of  We Talk of Dreams 

Sound Design:  Davis Walden, of The Viridian Wild audio drama podcast.

Art: Jeanette Andromeda of JeanetteCreations.com

A 9th Story Studios, LLC Production, All rights reserved. | Foytik, Collins, Vettese

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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 / Creator: Daniel Foytik
Executive Producers: Amber Collins, Nico Vettese
Visit The Lift: Facebook | Twitter | Instagram | Victoria's Twitter 

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.

Episode Transcript

(00:04):
Ninth Story Studios giving story a voice. Welcome to the list, Get ready
to take the ride. Hello,I'm Daniel Foytech, and I thank you

(00:43):
for joining us for a special episodeof Victoria's Lift. Today, we're presenting
the fifth chapter of our ten partmini series by Christopher Long, did Those
who Thrive in the Dark. Thismini series dives deep into the mythos of
Victoria's world and features Victoria facing ancientgods, fay folk, ghosts, monsters,
old enemies, and a certain littlebrother with ulterior motives. Before we

(01:08):
get started today, a big thankyou to those who are supporting the show.
Those supporting the show at the fivedollars a month level and above are
hearing these episodes first, since it'syou that have made this project possible.
This series will also be released asa novella at the end of the run,
with an expanded story that takes youdeeper into our world. Now,

(01:29):
hold on tight, and let's gofor a ride into the shadows when Victoria's
Left. Victoria's Lift to Those whoThrive in the Dark, Chapter five,

(02:34):
Weaving Spiders Come Not Here by ChristopherLong. You know the problem with archaeology,
all that digging down makes you peoplebelieve history is dead and buried,
contained neatly beneath your mode lawns andfreshly painted tarmac roads, pinned forever under

(02:59):
the foundations of your houses. Well, let me tell you history is never
that far away, and if itgets the urge, history can reach out
and change the present any time itwants. It's hidden in song lyrics.

(03:22):
It's burning behind the eyes of everygrudge inherited down through the gene pool.
History is in your road signs.It's in your town names. Now,
I guess you know all about thehistory of your town. Back in the
thirties, this area was flooded withrefugees victims of the Black Blizzard. And

(03:50):
when meadows really started with these homesteaderswhose land had risen up and tried to
kill them after a hip blind tothem and tried to choke them, leaving
some porcels coughing up lumps of dirt. There was nothing plain about the plains
back then. Some folks dashed theirhard earned land patents in what their meager

(04:15):
belongs and headed west in rickety oldtrucks, leaving the rotting bread basket of
America far behind. Others stayed unableto admit defeat, or simply because flight
wasn't an option for them. Takethe Larsons. They were trapped in a
home which had been sold to themon the promise wheat was worth more than

(04:41):
gold. Instead, it became aweb of debt as they spent on credit
hoping to buy better machinery to farmthe land which kept trying to bury them
alive. Their crops had been shreddedby the blizzards, and most of what
they did manage to tell wasn't worthmuch at all. It certainly never earned

(05:03):
them any gold. Jacob Larson wasthe eldest of the five children, barely
in double figures. He'd worked onthat farm day after day until he was
too tired to stand, helping hisfather dig out the tractor or the plow

(05:24):
in an effort to find something theycould harvest, even if it was just
for the family to eat that night. Yackele, we need to get inside.
These days you look up and seerain clouds and think your day is
ruined. Back then, the Larsonswould see a black horizon crashing down on

(05:47):
them, with flocks of birds strugglingto fly ahead of it. Every single
one of those storms must have feltlike it was coming to end their world
once and for all. Come on, boy, hush not children, It
will be all right. Look,here's Papa and Jacobe to keep us safe.

(06:12):
While his father boarded the windows andhung wet sheets over the doorways,
Jacob had to search the walls forcracks before stuffing rags and glue into every
offending gap, not that anything couldkeep the blizzard out completely. Their meals,
their drinks, their beds, everycomfort came in a thick layer of

(06:32):
scratchy, black dirt. Nothing wassafe. Jacob had watched the wind nearly
lift the roof off their home beforehe'd seen his father reaching up, straining
to hold it in place. Weneed water. It'll have to wait until
the storm passes with who knows howlong the storm will last. My love,

(06:54):
I'll go no, Yacob, I'llbe fine, Mamma. I'm small
and fast. It Tabilan. Whetherit was bravery or not tis hard to
say. Jacob was certainly what you'dcall determined. He'd grown up resilient in
the shadow of the dust it hadconsumed his childhood, one storm at a

(07:15):
time. He was used to thesudden drops in temperature. The sight of
the chickens roosting in the middle ofthe day convinced it was night. The
dead rabbits he'd find scattered underfoot inthe aftermath, dead from exhaustion, their
lungs packed with dirt. That day, like every day, he simply wanted

(07:39):
to help his family to survive,so he took the bucket and headed for
the door. Jaco, don't fass, mamma. I know the way to
the well by heart. You'll needthis. He wrapped the wet bandanna she
handed him over his face, andfought his way out into the wind,

(08:00):
into the swirling black swarm. Jacobknew how many steps would get him to
the well. He'd walked the shortpath a thousand times before, night and
day. Only this storm was cruelerthan most. It wouldn't let him see
past the tip of his nose.It tore his clothes as the gales conspired

(08:22):
to rearrange the world, hiding everylandmark, stealing every clue that told him
he was on the right track.He'd heard stories of people getting lost between
their yards and their houses when ablizzard. It Not all of them survived,
or there was their neighbor mister Kelly, who'd been blinded in his car

(08:46):
after being blown clear off the roadwhere the dead Whitman babies his father and
mother had whispered about after his youngestsiblings were in their bed. Some nights,
Jacob felt like he could hear thosebuckled little whitman bodies crawling across the
floor towards his exposed toes. Thatday, alone in the storm, he

(09:13):
fought to keep the terrors at bay, Clutching his bucket, leaning into the
wind, he thought he saw someshape slipping past him in the maelstrom.
He worked hard to convince himself itwasn't there until it came too close to
be ignored. It was too largeto be a dog or a wolf,

(09:35):
so vast it could have almost beena bear, a bear that was whispering
his name. Yakob, Yakob,Yakob, can you see him? I
searched upon. They searched high andlow for the boy. They found no

(09:58):
sign of him, only his buckethanging on its rope half way down the
well. They searched, and theywaited, and they pray, but Jacob
never returned. No one ever foundhis body. It took weeks before the
family were able to admit that hewas gone. It's my fault, It's

(10:24):
no one's fault. He wanted tohelp, He always wanted to help.
I I can't stay here any more, round this, not after this,
And where should we go? California? You heard the stories. People are
living in camps, theree like cattle. I didn't travel all the way to
America to live in a shack.We are living in a shack, a

(10:48):
shack in the very middle of hownothing can carve a human heart so keenly
as anger and grief. That day, both of them dug their sharp claws
deep into every fiber, every nerve, ending Ingrid Larson had left inside her.

(11:09):
They strained every muscle, tested everysense. She stumbled over the dead
ground her husband insisted on calling afarm. She passed, the broken corpses
of animals, the fresh drifts ofblack dust. She thought about her other
children. She couldn't face losing another. She walked and walked until she left

(11:35):
the roads and fields behind. Shewaited until she didn't know where she was
anymore, and she walked further intothe gathering dusk, into the growing night,
until she looked up and saw animpossible tree ahead of her, standing
like a totem in the gray,dead landscape. Beneath that tree, someone

(12:01):
was waiting for her. Jacop,We're sorry, mamma, We're never minstaclesy
pang. She couldn't see his faceclearly, only his thin shadow in the
cold moonlight. Behind him, therewas something larger, something darker and shaggier.

(12:24):
She could smell wet fur, butshe refused to believe it was a
bear. Not here. Its eyesglowed like starlight, its fur as dark
as the black blizzard's, if notdarker. My boy, you sound so
different. Her son and the bearpadded closer, the bear alway, staying

(12:50):
behind him, large enough that shecould see the dust staining its legs,
leaves and twigs caught in its fur. Something deep and ingrid stopped her rushing
to her boy. I told herto stand very still. If I'm different,
it's because I've been saved, savedby who. He doesn't like people

(13:15):
to say his name out loud.I would like to know who saved my
son from the dust stones. Youcan help him, mamma. You can
save them all me, you andme and my friends together. That's why
we came to wait for you here. I am your proof, roof of
what proof that we can save themfrom the dust, from the death,

(13:37):
from the hunger, from death itself. This is a dream, isn't it
a selfish, stupid dream. Ineed to wake up. I'm sorry,
mother, he doesn't mean it.He's just worked so hard to bring us
a salvation, salvation from death.My dreams are making your speak nonsense.
My child, you were never thefancy of one. Maybe my heart finally

(14:01):
broke the day and took my mindwith it. Mother, Please and need
you to listen. We can buildsomething special here, and others will come.
They'll be drawn by your stories ofhope. But we made a crave
for you. Your father used somebroken fence posts for the cross. It

(14:22):
merely killed him to plant it inthe ground. But I'm not dead.
You see I'm safe. Then comehome with me. That farm isn't my
home anymore, Mamma. I muststay in the shelter of the tree,
in the river, safe from thestorm. What river? I don't see
any river. It is beneath theearth, waiting. When the others are

(14:45):
with me, we will dig withour hands, and his river will flow
with water as sweet as the saddeststorm. But my little one, here's
a bear. He's so many things. You just need to bring the others
to us. Mother, Let thembe safe with me. This isn't real,
This can't be happened, Mamma,look into my eyes. Ingrid Larson

(15:07):
could only watch as the pale littleboy knelt before her. The sight of
his new eyes made her weep.They were the same as the bears,
and the light from those eyes seemedto wash the gray world away. The
next morning, Andrews found his wifeon her knees, sobbing close to their

(15:28):
well, clutching something close to herheart. Where have you been? The
children were wereried, sick. II saw a yaku. Oh, my
love, I know how it sounds, Andrews. He wanted me to save
his brothers and sisters. Maybe youwere right. Maybe we should move on.

(15:52):
This place isn't good for any ofus now. Only his wife wasn't
listening. She opened her hands andshowed him her son's little homemade bandanna,
still wet from the day he'd steppedout into the storm. Did you find
that any other well? He gaveit back to me. It took time

(16:12):
for the bear's spell to weave itselfinto her tired, disbelieving heart, but
it found purchase there. Eventually,once her despair grew too great to ignore,
Ingrid Larson began to believe she couldsave them all, and that belief
spread like poison, just as herson had predicted, others did come after.

(16:37):
She took her children to him,and a river forged a path through
the dirt. A wood grew aroundthat miracle, and a town grew around
the wood this town. Each ofthe new arrivals to Anne. When Meadows
met with Ingrid, all of themherd tail of their impossible savior, and

(17:03):
they were also given a warning byher. There is one threat, and
one threat only to a little fledglingtown, My friends, one threat we
all have a duty to watch outfor. It is not the dust,
and it is not the government.My accop has told me that we all
must be aware of a small,determined, green eyed girl. Thank you

(17:41):
to you, our supporters for makingthe show and this mini series possible.
Today's episode featured Cynthia Loman as CuckooStone, our tales narrator, It's Van
Martin's as Anders Larson, Erica Sandersonas Ingrid Larson, and Jacob Larson and
Karim Crantley as Ursa. The airsound design was created by Davis Walden,

(18:03):
our sound designer and the creator ofThe Verdian Wild podcast. The Verdian Wild
is a fantasy adventure audio drama podcastfollowing mytho zoologist Sebastian Verwood as he travels
the world studying magical creatures. Youcan find the show at the Verdian Wild
dot com that's v I R Id I A N or you can subscribe

(18:23):
to it wherever you get your podcasts. Today's custom score and theme song for
our show was created by our residentcomposer, Nico Vites of We Talk of
Dreams. Find Nico at We Talkof Dreams or streaming on Twitch. Also,
Nico has created his own audio dramapodcast, a limited run with five
episodes. Nico was kind enough toask me to write a story for the

(18:45):
podcast, so you can find mystory Finding Hope as episode four. You
can go to We Talk of Dreamsdot com forward Slash connections to find the
episodes and listen to the podcast.You can also, of course find it
any where where you get your podcasts. Artwork is created by Janet Andromeda illustrator,
artist, YouTuber and all around amazinghuman. Find her being creative at

(19:08):
Jenetcreations dot com. Our author is, of course, Christopher Long. You
can find him at Cjlongwords dot com. Chris has been featured on Victoria's Lift,
Shadows at the Door, and TheWicked Library multiple times. More of
his work is available on Amazon.Story editor and producer is Daniel Foytek of

(19:29):
Ninth Story Studios. That's Me.Our co producer is Meg Williams. Until
next time, keep your music boxwound and follow Victoria on Twitter at lift
Guide or The main page is atVictoria's Lift