Chapter Text
[ CLICK]
"I apologize for the obtuse means of… Yes, I know BSL, Mr. Beket. You can communicate how you feel comfortable. I hope that you don't mind that I need to read your statement for recording purposes."
…
"Yes. Let's begin. From the top. One second.
Statement of Mr. Stanley Beket, regarding his experiences in an office space known as the Parable… *sigh* Statement recorded directly from subject, XXXX XXXX, 2016. Audio recording by Jonathan Sims, Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute, London.
Statement begins."
…
"For the purposes of this tape, yes. It's required that I record everything. Now, you don't know when you entered it or how long you stayed inside the Parable?"
…
"Understood. But a being known as the Narrator followed you out and you found yourself in England? Alone?"
…
"Hmm… Is there any way to get back into the Parable?"
…
"I need to know if my assistants can verify your story, Mr. Beket. I can’t take your story at face value. If I did, I’d be out of a job.”
…
“I… Sir… Please calm down! I can’t understand a word you’re signing! I… Yes. It’s standard protocol. We do this to all statement-givers. I need to verify that what I’m reading is true. If it is, god forbid , that’s quite concerning! But I do want to know more about this… Narrator.”
…
…
“Interesting. He was originally a voice that gained a human form and… Wait, what? He left with you?!”
…
“And you expect the Magnus Institute to help with your search for this… Narrator? Mr. Beket… We’re an Institute for the study of paranormal activity and parapsychology. None of this… really qualifies for anything we…”
“ So you’re telling me I made it all up?! ”
"... Legally, I can't. Personally, yes. I do think you're making it up. I've heard too many tired office workers coming in and saying the same thing, with various alterations. Most of them were just stressed-out people. Your story isn't unique, Mr. Beket."
"... And yet you claim to investigate the weird and abnormal. I thought that, of all the people who might hear my story, you guys would be the ones who could actually help me! I need to find him. We left that place together. Doesn't that mean he has to be here, in this world?"
"I don't know. Now, if we can continue and go through your statement…"
…
"You can't just get up and leave! We need- I need to finish this statement, Mr. Beket. Mr. Be-!"
" Clearly, you didn't see what I said the first time! I said, 'Fuck this, I'm leaving!' I meant it! "
[ Door opens ]
[ Door slams shut ]
"Of course. * sigh* Well, I guess that's the end of the subject participation. I should cut this here and an addendum with the actual statement. I…"
[ Door opens ]
"Um… Jon?"
"Yes, Martin?"
"Uh… The… That guy… Uh… W… What happened? He… He ran past me, pretty upset. Was he the…?"
"Statement-giver? Yes. I assume he's left the building?"
"Yes… I think he even flipped Elias off on the way out."
"* sigh* I had a feeling. Could you… Tell Sasha to look up anything she can relating to a man by the name of Stanley Beket. It's just a hunch, but something felt off. Most people, when they're telling their phony stories, you can tell when the truth ends and the lie begins. Or the delusion.
I didn't sense that with him. Most people can convince themselves of a lie so well that it might as well be the truth. He seemed… quite solidified in his belief. As if it actually happened. I know it's a bit far-fetched but…"
"You think he's telling the truth. Wait… What was his story to begin with?"
"That he was stuck inside an office building for years, even dying repeatedly inside it, only guided by a being known as the Narrator. And that most recently, he and the 'Narrator' broke free of this place. Called the Parable, and he's now searching for the Narrator. Supposedly the Narrator took human form and they escaped within an elevator."
"Did he… describe the Narrator?"
"In the official statement, yes. He's supposedly an older man with a British accent. He also had… 'Light brown, slightly graying hair' and 'square-framed glasses adjusted over golden eyes'.
Quite a common look for older gentlemen."
"You don't want to… follow up and find this… 'Narrator'?"
"It's a voice, Martin! How do you know he's not hallucinating?! Besides, that description fits a lot of people I see at the local coffee shop! You want to multiply that to the world?"
"Why don't you want to give him the benefit of the doubt?"
"Because… How many times have we followed up on a case with an alleged figure and found out later that it was a figment of their mind? No, no. I'd rather focus on the person we do know exists. We know Stanley exists. He was just in our building!
Tell Sasha-"
“Tell me what?”
[ Door creaks ]
“Ah! Sasha. I didn’t quite see you.”
“Hmph. What’d you want me to do, Jon?”
“Look up everything you can regarding Stanley Beket. I need to know everything I can about him.”
“Got it. He was the statement-giver that ran out, right?”
“Yes. I’m not explaining why. I just explained everything to Martin. Ask him if you want to know the details.”
“Understood. I’m going to head back, then. You boys have fun!”
“Heh… Yeah…”
“Martin… Do you have any other reason to be standing at my door?”
“Oh! Yes! I made tea!”
“Lovely. Set it on the desk and get back to work.”
“Uh… Yes. Um… See you later!”
[ Door closes ]
“Oh… Bloody hell. This thing was running the whole time?!? Lovely. Statement ends.”
[ CLICK ]
-
Stanley frowned as he kicked a pebble, heading back to his car. He’d had a bad feeling this wasn’t going to work, but he let himself get his hopes up. All for what? For some short-haired idiot to tell him he was insane for surviving the Parable?
Maybe he was insane. He just wanted… a chance. A sliver of hope to cling onto. Slipping back into his car, he relaxed against the seat. He had a few more hours to kill before heading back to his hotel room, expecting that the Magnus Institute would do more than they did.
Despite having cleared the building, he still felt a lingering… fear. Like a nearly omnipresent feeling of being watched. Almost like the Narrator’s gaze, but much harsher. This gaze wanted to pry all of his secrets from his chest. Whereas the Narrator’s gaze was a calming, constant presence.
Unnerved, he started the car up and drove away. Maybe he needed to accept that there might be a chance… that the Narrator was gone. Even if he made a human body… What if he was bound to the Parable? Unable to leave?
For now, he’d dwell on other thoughts. He wasn’t closing the door just yet.