Folxlore: Werehouse
Description: Folxlore tells the stories of queer people living literally and figuratively between two worlds. In one sense, we try to live normal lives while the world tells us we are not normal. In another sense, our normal lives are interrupted by a very not-normal rift opening up between our world and another plane of existence filled with nightmarish horrors. This pilot series deals with themes of first romance, hate crime related trauma, and queer parenthood. Folxlore is rooted in everyday Glasgow, where monsters are always on the edge of your periphery.
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Transcript
Questioner:
So, Matthew, tell my about last night.
Matthew:
Well, we decided to meet on the corner of West Street
Questioner:
You and Luke?
Matthew:
Me and Luke.
I took the number 2 and waited by the gates
He was late.
The air was cold, and the wind cut through
The holes in my gloves and damp in my old shoes
I paced at the entrance.
Stared at the smashed windows.
The heavy wooden doors, chained close.
I was worried.
What if he didn’t show.
We’d said we’d meet at eight.
Questioner:
When was this arranged?
Matthew:
We had met in the south side
The house where the Hutchy folk go dancing
Spent the night laughing and chatting
The rich kids were there, but they didn’t seem to see us
Near the end of the night, he suggested we should meet up.
Questioner:
And that was last night?
Matthew:
Yeah,
When he eventually made it, we went for a walk.
Talked nonsense for a while, when we heard a voice.
It was coming from inside.
Questioner:
Inside where?
Matthew:
The warehouse.
Questioner:
And you were outside?
Matthew:
Right.
We were just walking the grounds
Til we heard this horrible sound
There was no one around
So it was up to us to make sure no one was hurt.
Questioner:
And you two were just wandering?
You weren’t… up to anything?
Matthew:
I don’t know what you mean.
Questioner:
Matthew, I need you to be honest with me.
What happened between you and Luke?
Matthew:
Okay,
I’ll try honesty…
He was late,
I got there at eight,
Waited by the gates.
Checked out the smashed windows
For a way in
Then…
Luke:
“Hey.”
Matthew:
“Hey.”
He was wearing a faded red polo neck
Jeans flared and frayed at the edges
Dress sense quite effortless
A bag on his back, contents mysterious
A smile so wide, thoughts quite mischievous
Wise eyes tracing my face for silent meanings
He stopped.
Couple paces away.
Luke:
“Hey”
Questioner:
What did he bring?
Matthew:
Nothing.
Questioner:
Matthew?
Matthew:
“Have you got the stuff?”
I said it before thinking
“I mean, did it all go okay?”
He’d said his cousin could get us beer.
Said we could meet here.
Said inside was safe.
Questioner:
And that’s the whole story?
Matthew:
Well, yeah…
Questioner:
Matthew, I think I see where this going
You’re not a good liar, and it’s very obvious
You’re getting flustered
So, just so you know, there’s no judgment.
Matthew:
*sigh*
We had met in the south side
The house where the Hutchy folk go dancing
Spent the night laughing and chatting, talking close
The rich kids were there, but they didn’t seem to notice
The next day, I found a note he had left in my coat
A black-and-white, scratchley sketched rose.
He said his cousin could get booze for us
I said “Who else?”
He said
Luke:
“Just the two of us.”
When I was waiting by the gate
And he said
Luke:
“Hey.”
Matthew:
I was shaking.
Face redder than his faded polo neck
Thoughts all over the place
Like the frayed edges of his jeans
Took every effort I had to stay
A bag on his back, contents mysterious
A smile so wide, thoughts quite mischievous
Wise eyes tracing my face for silent meanings
We turned towards the warehouse.
Stone round holes in the windows.
Heavy wooden doors at its base.
Opening itself up to us.
Matthew:
Inside,
I expected silence.
The shuffle of feet on concrete
And the muffled sound of heartbeats
Instead,
The wind slid across smashed glass as it swept in
Vibrating through the air and the window pane
Steel creaked from overhead with every move we made
The walls offered no obstacle to sound from the street
Engines revved like breath,
Headlights played puppets
With workbenches and desks
Dancing candles, preceded by shadows
The darkest corners and corridors,
Uncovered for an instant
The light barely breaking on any brick
Before being pushed out.
The night claiming back ground.
Luke lit a torch.
A pin prick in the cavern that once contained
One hundred livelihoods, his dad included
And a production line that once made… something.
If his dad ever told him, he couldn’t remember.
The light dripped down the walls,
Investigated those hard to reach places
And settled on the floor.
In the centre of the space,
the concrete had cracked.
The floor gave way.
Concave, our path creased
To reveal steel beams.
The only crossing to the other side.
Inspecting,
A stone dropped, hit something hard
But the light didn’t fall so far.
I stood. Stiff and unwilling
For what I knew to be coming.
Luke smiled.
Led me forward
Looking back
Heard me hesitate
Took my hand.
Three, treacherous steps
Three held breaths
Three seconds of near silence.
On the other side of the cavern
Luke barely trembled
Looked brave, the adventurer
As he led me downstairs to the foundations.
Luke:
“You scared?”
Matthew:
“No.”
The warehouse above gave way
To a storage floor below
As we left the pitch black of the stairs
We met a long corridor
Wide enough for wheeling parts
To the elevator at the back.
The sound changed.
The street outside was muted
We lost the creaking of the ceiling
But we could hear movement
Scratching of tiny nails,
Scampering to hide away
From the foreign noises
We brought in breath, and step
And conversation in a place
Which been silent for an age.
Every room was dormant
The walls were concrete
Corner to corner
Indents were left on the ground
Where once was something heavy
Now, empty,
Except one,
After getting our bearings we found an old office
With a cracked leather couch.
This was our spot.
So, we stopped
Sat down.
Luke pulled two bottles,
And we toasted to our closed down ghost-town
Matthew:
“What are the girls like in your school”
Luke:
“Well, some of them are cool.
A lot of us are friends
But then, that’s a lot easier when…”
Matthew:
The nerves kicked in.
“How’d you do that?
Make something so tough for the rest of us
Look effortless?
I struggle to talk to girls I like.”
Luke:
“D’you feel the same with guys?”
Matthew:
“Well it’s not the same.
I don’t know what girls are like
And the ones I’ve liked, well…”
Luke:
“I’m not really interested in the girls you like.”
*pause*
“Right, let’s take this to the next stage,
How about a little game?
Unless you’re scared?
Truth or Dare?”
Matthew:
“Sure”
I wasn’t, but I wasn’t scared either.
“Truth”
Luke:
“Do you like anyone?”
Matthew:
There it was again.
That confidence.
His whole body open
As he talked like this.
While I’m closed off
Knees together
Hands in my pockets
Hiding on my side of the couch
He’s lounging about.
“Okay, dare.”
Luke:
“You can’t take it back,
You already said truth”
Matthew:
“Not the rules”
Luke:
“Those are the rules.”
Matthew:
“Not my rules.
You go first.”
Luke:
“Okay, ask me anything”
Matthew:
“Damn, I’m bad at this…
You ever done weed with the Hutchy kids?”
Luke:
“Is that a serious question?’
*pause*
Luke:
“‘Cause it’s a wasted one.
Yes, a couple of times
I’ve gone round the back of that flat
With a couple of guys.”
Matthew:
“Okay…”
Luke:
“Your turn”
Matthew:
“Dare. I’m not afraid”
Luke:
“If you say so.
So, I dare you to stand on your own
In the room next door.
One minute, no torch.”
Matthew:
“Wasted dare.
I ain’t scared.”
And I wasn’t, at first.
I got up, grabbed my beer
And walked to the empty door frame.
No hesitation. No looking back.
The room was pitch black.
There was a trickle of water
Pooling at the back of the room
Other than that, quiet.
Couldn’t hear Luke,
Or the wind, or the cars.
My fingers fidgeted
Heart raced.
I waited.
Lost count, so just as long as I could.
Revelled in the thought of him getting spooked.
Waited for him to come looking.
Eventually, I went back in to our room
“Okay, I did it.
Back to you.”
Luke:
“Truth.
And try and make this one good.”
Matthew:
“You been with anyone?”
Luke raised an eyebrow,
Then a bottle to his lips.
Luke:
“A few people.
If you wanna know more
You’re gonna have to be
More specific”
Matthew:
“That’s not fair”
Luke:
“Your go”
Matthew:
“Dare”
“Sit over there.
Eyes closed.
Thirty seconds.”
I waited.
Nothing changed in his expression
Eyes locked on mine.
Not a muscle waivered
Nor a tension line
“Fine.”
I dusted off a square of floor
Took a seat and stole a last glance
And closed my eyes.
This was a different silence.
His eyes rang bells in my ears
Until, after several seconds, I could hear
Movement.
Light Footsteps, small breaths.
I waited to feel his presence
I had fought against expecting it.
But I was waiting for him to get close.
Luke:
“And time”
Matthew:
His voice came from over on the couch
Still lounging across his side and mine
Luke:
“Looks a little comfier over there,
Let me join you.”
Matthew:
He picked up his bag, bottle
And sauntered over.
Luke:
“Truth”
Matthew:
“Do you like anyone.”
Luke:
“Yes.
You need to get better at this.
Don’t worry, I’ll be here when you get it.
It’s on you, Matthew.”
Matthew:
He was right. He’d done all he could.
“Truth.”
Luke:
“What do you want me
To dare you to do?”
Matthew:
I adopted his confident pose.
Stared him straight in the face.
Dust danced around his hand
As it moved to beside mine.
Then, he waited.
For me to say: “Dare you.”
Matthew:
We kissed.
I was leaning back,
My hands scratched on stones
Under the weight of my body
I could feel glass press into my palms
He rested a hand on my chest
It fell awkwardly, but his confidence
Steadied me, the chill as his finger
Landed on my collar bone
Just above my shirt
Ran through me like a current.
For a second, there was silence.
“What was that?”
He looked hurt.
The first sliver of a fissure
In his otherwise calm demeanour
Luke:
“I thought…”
Matthew:
“No, not you, I just heard something.”
Luke:
“Good. You good?”
Matthew:
He leaned forward,
Head to the side
As I closed my eyes,
Cautious,
I thought i saw…
We kissed,
I moved off the back hand,
Dusted dirt and blood from my palms.
Pushed into his lips.
Tried to act as confident as him.
He let me
Relented
Then, lent on his elbow.
Rested
Led my head
Looked up from below me
Still in control.
Only in the seconds we broke for breath
Was I back in the basement.
For the most part, I was concentrating.
Keeping up.
“What!”
I stopped.
“Did you hear that?”
Confused, Luke withdrew.
Looked curiously at me,
Over his shoulder,
And then fumbled for the torch.
The light did little to sate my worry
A single beam, it cut slim slices
From ceiling to concrete
Leaving much too much shadow
And cold angles in the dark
I swear I heard something.
I swear I heard…
I think I heard…
“Did you..”
He shook his head.
I wanted to run.
Then and there.
I thought
I heard someone.
Luke:
“Are you worried about us being found?
Is that why you’re freaking out?”
Matthew:
“No, no.
No this is nice.
It’s really…
I’m having a good time.
I’m sorry. Can we?”
Luke:
“Matthew, just don’t be so on edge.
We’re doing nothing wrong.
Relax.”
Matthew:
He went in for a kiss, but…
“I’m not just being skittish,
And I don’t want to think something’s wrong.
I just… I just… I think I heard someone.”
His smile let out a sigh of light scorn
And the moments of tenderness
Of trepidation steps taken were gone.
Luke:
“We can leave, if you want.”
Matthew:
“I don’t.”
Confessions come in whispers.
They need to, to be heard.
He sat back down beside me.
Hand on my knee
His face turned to meet
The soft centre of my cheek
As I looked up for a second
Calm covering the space
I closed my eyes in comfort
On their lids was imprinted a face.
“God.”
I couldn’t do it.
I needed to leave.
Something was coming,
And it knew we were here.
Luke:
“Right, what’s going on?
I’m kinda getting sick of this.
Are you just not into it?”
Matthew:
“There’s someone here.
Give me the torch, look over there.
I saw a face by the stairs.
Black eyes, red hair
A blood freezing stare.”
Luke:
“Matthew, there’s nobody there.”
Matthew:
Luke cupped my chin
His face had changed.
It was stern and strange
Concerned and pained
Worried.
Contorted and concentrated
And I wanted him to kiss me.
To get back to that silence.
Then the torch light flickered
Not from its source
But where it fell on the wall
A shadow passed by
And now it was back in its element
We wouldn’t find it in the dark
“I need to leave.
Trust me, this is not what I wanted
But this place, this building,
My mind, something, it’s haunted”
The walls were closing
The ceiling was rising
The wind was whipping up dust
And dirt
My hand was stinging with blood
Wet and red an omen of dread
Felt a tug at the back of my shirt
“I’m going.”
Matthew:
Footsteps
Echo through the corridors
Stamping, breathless, ringing
Didn’t stop when I paused
Hand held out to Luke in warning
Silence, then scuttering.
Tiny nails on concrete,
This time like an april shower
A torrent of water splashing over glass
And scampering away as quick as it came
A horde at our feet, running from something
I looked up.
The ceiling caved in above
A single set of headlights
Illuminated faces on every surface
Barbed wire scraping against the walls
Mouths screaming silent howls
“Luke”
*Silence*
“Luke”
*pause*
Luke:
“I’m here.
I thought I saw a light
In the room we went by.”
Matthew:
“Luke, this place is broken and creepy”
Luke:
“I think I’m beginning to agree”
Matthew:
“Until we get out of here, please, don’t leave me.”
Luke:
“Okay”
Matthew:
He held out his hand. I grabbed it
We clambered past the stramash
Of cracked ceiling and stone
The torch light doing little to steady our woes
Luke lurched it left and right, ahead, behind
We stopped every few seconds to listen
Feeling a presence at the edge of our vision
The longer we wandered the corridor, the wider it grew
A constantly expanding cage
A maze with stalking pursuit
Until the door to the stairway came into view.
Darkness.
Slow. Deliberate steps
Listen for the expected echo
Waiting.
Silence.
Feeling the pock-marked walls
Something to hold on to
The skin of the building
As we headed for the exit.
The warehouse.
The workroom.
The windows.
The headlights.
The howling wind.
The hellscape ferrus smell.
The ceiling.
The high-walled cavern.
The crushed floor cave in.
Only one way out of this.
Over the steel beam bridge.
Luke and I stopped.
Held hands and gazes
A comforting heat in a world set ablaze
Luke:
“Almost there.
We got this.”
Matthew:
I nodded.
Swallowed.
He stole a kiss
And pressed me forward
Three, treacherous steps
Three held breaths
Three seconds of near silence.
One.
I can feel him behind me
Two.
He moves on to the steel beam
Three.
I’ve made it to safety
I can breathe
Luke:
“Matt?”
Matthew:
His voice trembled.
Two, three.
Three easy steps
“You’re almost there.
Take my hand”
Luke:
“Matt.
I can feel it at my back…”
Matthew:
Steps two and three
It’s easy
Luke:
“Matt…”
***
Questioner:
Matthew, it’s fine. Take your time
Matthew:
He could have stepped across, I don’t know why…
Questioner:
Matthew, I need to know what happened
Luke’s lucky to be alive, he barely survived.
Matthew:
What more do you need to know?
Questioner:
In the factory, there was only the two of you
Matthew:
I’m not sure
Questioner:
Son, I need you to tell me the truth.
Matthew:
I don’t know.
Questioner:
Luke hasn’t said much since he woke up
But you keep saying he fell, and I need to make sure
Matthew:
I don’t know.
Questioner:
Matthew, Luke keeps saying he was pushed.
