From Between: The Woodsman

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From Between: The Woodsman
Source: collected/019-from-between-the-woodsman.mp3
SHA-256: 571af35f8db02bedf24290e4ced443cd89beb0f3bdae5bdcc987dd9c882ca80b
Model: scribe_v2 | Transcribed: 2026-10-10T18:12:37.250059+00:00
Machine transcript — uncorrected. Speaker labels are local to this recording and do not identify people.

[00:00:00.140] Speaker 1: Hello, traveler. I am Second Mask, purveyor of secrets, master of mysteries, and right hand to the Revealer herself. Whether you realize it or not,

[00:00:35.620] Speaker 1: you are under her dominion. All of these collected worlds are hers. But fear not, because she and I are generous souls. We seek only to reveal the many secrets her worlds have to offer. Ah, I am so glad to see the travelers flitting about again between worlds, sowing and revealing secrets. And in honor of this

[00:01:10.120] Speaker 1: momentous occasion, I will be hosting an auction, an auction unlike any you have seen before, for I will be selling secrets. Take this book, for instance. There is nothing like it in all the Eternium. Like everything at this auction, it has a story. The best secrets are stories, don't you think? The man who sold this to me did so at great cost to himself. I took ten years from his life simply to

[00:01:45.060] Speaker 1: remove the memory of it. His own frantic notes are scrawled on the front cover. See, you can see them here. Ah, but you're made of tougher stuff than he, aren't you? I'm sure you have nothing to fear. And in the spirit of celebration and generosity, I will read it to you at no cost. You have no body at present, so relax your mind instead and listen to The Woodsman. My name isn't

[00:02:19.820] Speaker 1: important. Who I am isn't important. The only thing that matters is a single question. Read it carefully, then read it again. Is it better to live a tortured existence or to not exist at all? This isn't an academic question. It matters. It matters because you have to decide right now. I couldn't live with the weight of that question. I'm sorry. I just couldn't do it

[00:02:54.680] Speaker 1: alone. So I wrote here. I tried. I really tried. If you change the words, lifeless. If you stop halfway, lifeless. I understand if you hate me too after reading this, but you need to decide. Is it better to live a tortured existence or to not exist at all? If you choose oblivion, then

[00:03:29.620] Speaker 1: simply stop reading. The Woodsman. I'm walking down the street, holding my arms over my head to try and stop the falling rain from soaking my dress.

[00:03:45.220] Speaker 2: Why are we out here exactly?

[00:03:48.320] Speaker 3: We're out here because I have four daughters and not a single one of them is married.

[00:03:54.700] Speaker 2: So?

[00:03:56.200] Speaker 3: So, there.

[00:03:58.320] Speaker 2: Is that the Woodsman? Why is he just sitting here?

[00:04:02.740] Speaker 1: He looks pensive and sort of sad.

[00:04:06.140] Speaker 3: Who knows? It doesn't matter. The point is he's sitting there and you are the pretty young girl he's been dying to talk to.

[00:04:15.700] Speaker 1: I don't believe her. I've never even talked to him, unless you count a polite nod when he wanders into the general store, stinking from his work mapping the forests.

[00:04:27.400] Speaker 2: He's Papa's age.

[00:04:29.860] Speaker 3: He is not. And he's far more handsome than your papa, so consider yourself lucky.

[00:04:35.800] Speaker 1: I resent the way she said that. I hate how she always makes me feel like I'm a burden, even when I do what she asks. I almost walk away, risking her wrath, but something stops me. He looks so sad over there. It would be getting dark soon. No one should have to sit alone in the rain and in the dark. I sigh and steel myself.

[00:05:04.520] Speaker 2: [sighs] He never talks to anyone. What if he's weird?

[00:05:12.180] Speaker 3: Oh, goodness, girl. It's just a conversation. And he's not weird. He's just tired of his lifestyle, I think. You're the perfect thing to cheer him up.

[00:05:24.640] Speaker 2: Fine.

[00:05:26.360] Speaker 1: It wasn't fine, but what was I going to do? Run away to Temit's Ville and work the fields? Never. As I walk over to the Woodsman, my mother flees with surprising haste. She had a smile on her face, though, so regardless of how bad I botch this conversation, at least she will be pleased for a while. Maybe she'll even wait a few more days before introducing me to the next love of my life. Maybe. The Woodsman is sitting on a large stump with various equipment strewn about the ground next

[00:06:01.400] Speaker 1: to him. Among the equipment is a crossbow. I wonder what that's for. Wolves? He's still staring off into the woods that surround the clearing around our village. It's like we're living on a little island of grass inside a great big sea of trees. "Good evening." The woodsman doesn't reply. I look around, feeling awkward. How annoying. Well, I'm at least going to get him to tell me to piss off. It's one thing to be turned down and another entirely

[00:06:36.440] Speaker 1: to be ignored. I sit down on the stump next to him. He'll talk eventually. We can't ignore each other forever. To my surprise, he does speak. "Why am I just sitting here in the rain? Shouldn't I be doing something? It's such a strange place to start." For some reason, those questions catch me off guard for a moment. Not that I mind skipping the formal pleasantries of a greeting. It can get tiresome asking how another person is doing when it's plain to see that they are sitting sullenly in the rain

[00:07:11.920] Speaker 1: looking at a gloomy forest. He probably hates spending so much time in there. "I don't think anyone will blame you for waiting until the rain lets up, sir. It's dreadful weather to be mucking about in those woods." He turns to me with a strange expression. Is that pity? "It's so short. Why is it so short?" I don't respond to his strange questions. I did interrupt his brooding after all. It wouldn't be right for me to interrupt a person's thoughts and then complain that I don't understand. He shivers

[00:07:47.260] Speaker 1: and I notice how chill the air has become. Before long, I'm shivering too. "I'll go get us some warm cider." I spoke too cheerfully. Lord, am I terrible at this. How does one make conversation? Isn't it just supposed to happen or not happen? Mother has gone baby crazy. She sees perfect matches in the most unlikely suitors. She'll be setting me up with the mop before long on account of its beautiful thick hair. Still,

[00:08:22.580] Speaker 1: I look over at the chiseled rough features of the woodsman. Perhaps she wasn't completely wrong about him. "There isn't time for cider. There's never time for cider." Is he pouting? Yes, he's definitely pouting. "Oh, come now. It's just inside the bunkhouse. My uncles have it warmed already. I'll be back in just a few minutes, and then the two of us can gaze into the woods with cider." The woodsman cracks a smile. "We're cursed, you know.

[00:08:58.040] Speaker 1: My curse is to remember." I smile too. I don't know what game he's playing, but if he thinks I'm some dull girl who would be frightened by his stories from the woods, he is sorely mistaken. "Oh? Then what's my curse?" His smile fades. Then he points into the darkness between the towering trees. "They kill the others, but they always take you. You scream for death, but it never comes. Or if it does, it comes long after

[00:09:33.060] Speaker 1: mine. They will take you, shape you, break you. They will smear you into themselves." He laughs a dark, cynical laugh. Then he continues. "Forgive me, but I can't listen to the screams anymore. When the time comes, I will leave. I suggest you do the same." The woodsman's words are strange and frightening in a way I don't expect. I don't

[00:10:07.820] Speaker 1: really know what I expected to talk about when I came over to sit with him, but I hadn't expected this. But this, this echoes. It feels so familiar. I feel foolish, but I just want to run back to the bunkhouse now. I know it will make me look like the frightened girl that I pretended not to be, but I don't care. I just want to be in the light, in the warmth. I want to sing and dance and watch my uncles

[00:10:42.800] Speaker 1: drink until they cannot stand, then laugh with the others as they are dragged away by their wives. "I have to go." It was a mistake to come talk to the woodsman. He is twice as weird as I feared he might be. Lesson learned. Time to go. "You won't make it." He puts a foot on his crossbow, drawing it back with a huff of exertion. Is he going to kill me? Panic shoots through me. No. No, he won't. And yet he doesn't seem right. This

[00:11:17.540] Speaker 1: man isn't world-weary as Mother said. He's broken. He sees my expression and smiles with unexpected warmth. He sets the loaded crossbow back down at his feet. "This isn't for you, child, though I would shoot you with my only bolt if you asked." He looks down at the crossbow and shakes his head, smiling wryly. "It's so cruel that there is only one." "I, I don't understand." He begins speaking again as if he hadn't heard me. "I'd like a

[00:11:52.540] Speaker 1: kiss next time, if you don't mind. I've never asked for that." My face flushes red and I nervously spread the wrinkles out of my dress. It's not like I haven't kissed boys, but they were boys. The woodsman is more than twice my age. Is this right? He said he wouldn't hurt me, but what will he do if I say no? He doesn't look like a violent man.

[00:12:21.976] Speaker 2: You don't have to wait until next time. I could give you one now, on the cheek.

[00:12:28.536] Speaker 1: I regret the words the moment I say them. I'm never thinking, always acting. Mother hates my impulsiveness, but she must have intended for something like this to happen. Had she really seen some potential chemistry between me and the strange man who spent as much time in the woods as he did in the village? On the cheek is fine. So I lean in and kiss his cheek. The hairs of his beard scratch against my face and I jerk back after leaving only a tiny peck. It was a nightmare.

[00:13:03.616] Speaker 1: How many women, real women, has he kissed? Thank you. It's almost time. They'll be here soon. He lifts the crossbow and stares intently at the darkness of the woods all around our village. What is he looking for? A person? Multiple people? I whisper to him.

[00:13:28.216] Speaker 2: Is there someone out there? Are we under attack?

[00:13:32.056] Speaker 1: Yes. Yes? That's all he has to say?

[00:13:36.676] Speaker 2: I have to go warn the others. We'll gather some men and make a fight of it. How many?

[00:13:43.076] Speaker 1: Too many. And they aren't human. It doesn't matter, child. Just sit. So I stand up.

[00:13:51.236] Speaker 2: No, I'm getting help. If we can't fight, we can run. We'll pack bare essentials and be gone within the hour. We can flee to Timmitsville. It's not twenty miles by the road.

[00:14:03.056] Speaker 1: The woodsman shakes his head in frustration. Timmitsville is overrun, or soon will be. I've gone there before. There is no sanctuary. Just sit down. I am infuriated. Logically, I understand that the surest way to anger me is to command me against my will. And yet, I cannot stop the rage from building. Mother always says that I am stubborn. I prefer to think that I'm right. There is a

[00:14:37.656] Speaker 1: cracking sound from within the woods, like the pop of a tree branch. The cracking doesn't stop. The sound of tortured wood grows louder. In the gloom of the coming night, I can see an entire tree go down, just a stone's throw into the woods.

[00:14:57.936] Speaker 2: What was that?

[00:14:59.476] Speaker 1: I'm torn between staying to see and fleeing to the safety of the village center. Unfortunately, it's time. I know you think I'm a coward, but, but I just can't listen to your screams anymore. Please just say you forgive me. He looks at me longingly. He's waiting for an answer.

[00:15:24.916] Speaker 2: I forgive you.

[00:15:27.496] Speaker 1: I don't know why I say it. Maybe because he looks like he needs me to say it. I don't understand his mind or what has fractured it this way. But if a few useless words will grant him some reprieve, who am I not to help? Thank you. I thought I was supposed to protect you. But that doesn't make sense. Then I thought I was supposed to give you answers. The way he speaks, it's like he's reading the script from a play. He delivers his lines like he's trying to

[00:16:02.456] Speaker 1: get them over with. I want to ask him a strange question, but I can't bring myself to speak the words. What's come over me? But if that's my purpose here, I failed you. I gave up a long time ago. Then, with a smooth, practiced motion, he puts the crossbow to his temple and pulls the trigger. Blood splatters both of us. It isn't much, not really. Only a little gets on my dress.

[00:16:37.676] Speaker 1: I stare down at the little red dots, unable to think. His body falls over and rolls a few feet down the hill. That's when I start screaming. I tear at my dress, trying to rip the bloody parts away. It doesn't work, so I scramble to my feet to get away from his body. Another crack in the forest, and another. My attention snaps from the horror of his body toward the tree line. Twisted shapes move in the almost darkness at the edge of the forest.

[00:17:14.296] Speaker 1: The question I wanted to ask the woodsman comes unbidden to my mind. Are we real? Am I real? It's a silly question on the surface. I feel. I hurt. I experience. But if we're real, why do you keep doing this to me? I don't understand. I am caught off guard by a moan. It's a thing making a low, sad

[00:17:49.336] Speaker 1: sound. And I can see it. Even with the dim light of the cloudy evening sky, I can see it. It's almost human, like a child has taken a person and squeezed it between their hands. It is as if the body were clay. Crossbow bolts cover it like porcupine quills. It's pulling itself by its misshapen arms through the grass and up the hill toward the village. Toward me.

[00:18:24.460] Speaker 1: The forest becomes a cacophony of splintering trees. Massive twisted creatures push aside the ancient trees as if they were mere twigs. A wall of moaning, writhing flesh pours from the forest. My mind is blank with fear. I am an animal, and my instincts get me off the ground and running. Not running anywhere in particular, just away. I run through the village. I am mindless. A girl greets me and steps into my path. I know

[00:18:59.480] Speaker 1: her. I put my shoulder into her chest and knock her away without stopping. She lets out a single, wounded cry, but I am already gone, running out of the village and down the dirt path that leads to Temitzville. Behind me I hear a few panicked shouts and then a great crash. They are screaming. So many screams. My friends and family. I know them. And yet, I have no idea who they are. It's as if somebody told me everything about my life with them,

[00:19:35.220] Speaker 1: but I can't remember any of it. Did you do that too? The screams and crashes die away behind me. My footfalls on the dirt path and my labored breaths are all I hear. I am surrounded by dense forest. It's twenty miles to Temitzville. I hear a moan on the narrow path ahead of me, the cracks of breaking tree limbs in the distance. In every direction. It's twenty miles to Temitzville, but it may as well not

[00:20:10.180] Speaker 1: exist. I'm exhausted. I kneel in the dirt and hang my head. I can't fight my fate anymore. I want to. I would fight. But it's as if you compel me towards this same ending. A tower of human bodies, all stuck together, writhes its way down the dirt path. Their bodies are so misshapen, but it's clear who they are. I don't want to look. I

[00:20:45.120] Speaker 1: cover my face and throw myself onto the ground. Please, stop reading. Can you hear me? Don't let them do this to me again. The creature is so close to me. I look up at it. I have to. There are others like it surrounding me in every direction. Slowly, slowly moving their bloated bodies on twisted masses of limbs. And they are all me. Every

[00:21:19.940] Speaker 1: single one of them is me. I see the pain in their monstrous faces, sometimes as many as a dozen faces per body. They are all covered in crossbow bolts. How many times has the woodsman fired his only bolt in my defense? They don't want you to do this to me, but they are compelled. It's your fault. You're making this happen. I don't know how or why, but it's always you. Please,

[00:21:55.800] Speaker 1: just stop reading. I can feel everything. I don't know if I'm real, but I'm real enough. I'm here. A single meaty appendage slaps my leg and pain like a fire rolls up my body. I hear the popping of bones as the creature sucks me into its mass. I scream and nothing comes out. Why won't you stop it? Why won't you stop reading? I am being pulled

[00:22:30.640] Speaker 1: apart. Why? I hate you. Welcome back. Now, was that mere novelty? Or something more? How does it work, do you think? So many secrets to uncover. You could have this book, and many things like it. Oh,

[00:23:05.560] Speaker 1: but I have no payment, you are thinking. Be at ease. I don't want your money. I deal only in secrets. So, go now and find me some. Or miss out on a once-in-a-many-lifetimes event. An auction unlike any other. But be warned. When you bring your secrets, I will know what is true, what is embellished,

[00:23:40.800] Speaker 1: and what is a lie. Until next time, traveler. Special thanks to our voice actors, Alfie Murray-Dudgeon, who played The Woodsman, and Christy Soutar, who played The Mother and The Girl. Her Twitter is LittleRedHen42, and there are links to the rest of her contact information in the

[00:24:15.800] Speaker 1: show notes. And on a personal note, they were both absolute joys to work with. See you next time.