All of Red's Transmissions [spoilers]

[MarcusStuhr]

In case you guys wanted to read his lines more closely:

Radio is transmitting.

Good day? Good day? Can you hear me?

Well, I hope that your ears are working better than your tongue, so that you might use them to listen to my words. You have turned on the light at the end, beginning and middle of the tunnel, but some things remain shrouded in darkness.

My morsey message I hope has helped, but what you need now is through the wall hole, to the right of the fence. Go now! There's no time to explain!

Well, in fact, time is one of the few things we have in abundance down here, but surprises are spoilt by such catty curiosity.

Ah, my memory is like something with a great many small holes. We shall be needing to perform some minor demolition work, so that we might one day meet again.

For this task, we shall require the use of a large, earth-eating, metal monster, and that monster is thirsty for juice from the place where things are kept.

By the way, you can call me Red. It is not my name, you understand, but, as I am sure you will agree, it is a name rather similar to a cardigan: fetching, when worn correctly.

Ah, those holes in my mind are increasingly gaping! You cannot breach the inner sanctum of the place of storing, the entry way is blocked. So the squishy material between my ears is squashier than most!

I may not be perfect like a hanging picture, but my words are wise, and backed up by time! A pox! Try as I may, you must think that I deceive you with my - admittedly - cunning ways!

As far as my eye has seen, our rocky grave extends, and yet you cast away my help like you would a puppy, freshly rolled in its own faeces! I hope that your warped sense of morality is better company than I, because now, it is all that you have left!

Um... I'm sorry... Sometimes my emotions are like a disobedient pet: uncontrollable, and often rolling in shit.

Better safe than sorry, they say, but I think we are both sorrier than we are safe. A tunnel lies between a nearby watery cave, and the place where things are kept. Take the second right from the closed door, and you will find what you seek.

Now, you should find yourself in the watery cave of conversations past, with a tunnel above you from times ahead. In this tunnel, for both our sakes, be careful, not curious.

I have already spoken to you about the cat, and repeating myself is not only out of the question, but out of the window and climbing down the guttering. There are spiders in the tunnels that love to suck on humany fluids, so do not disturb the walls, they are fragile like the china vase in the hooves of the bull.

There should be some insect repellent in the red and white crossed box in that room. Just in case those spiders found your flesh delicious.

How does my brain flesh know your fluids are leaking? Because Red tricked you!!! The spidery tunnel was far from a necessary evil, more so, it served as a well deserved punishment!

You thought my mind had been lost to the ravages of time, and poetic justice has struck with a sonnet and an eight legged baptism of fire! With justice now served cold, I hope that we can be good friends. Now reclaim the key and go-go juice, and find a way to the mining monster!

You seek the truth behind all this mystery, you think it will set you free! But truth is relative, and relatives cannot be trusted to bring good gifts. What you seek lies in the shafts beyond this collapsing of the sky, and if you look closely, so do I.

A century of days has passed, since I saw this area last. The diseased ones sought to kill poor Red, but I took them on a wild poultry chase, they ended dead.

They came from out the big metal door, but after all my years, I know these caves more. Hide and seek turned to seek and hide, and I buried them here, beneath the solid rock sky.

With my remaining ear to the ground, I hear your trembling tootsies padding towards their final destination. Things come to those that wait, whether they want them or not, and soon, I think, your wait will be over.

The great metal door in reality is calling you, just as the reaper beckons me forward. I look forward to finally greeting you, I only hope I need not greet the reaperman first.

Alas, my friends lie somewhere near you now. A friend in need is a friend indeed, but a friend that's dead is a poor conversationalist. May they rest in pieces. Ruptured, decomposing pieces.

Ah, only the engraving etched in the back of my mind can compare to the sights you must be seeing, now power has returned. I wish I could be there with you, but... circumstances do not allow for such frivolities.

Maybe soon there is something you could do about that. But tell me, are the rubber belted conveyances now churning in the rock room? I think I know where they lead... is it some kind of heaven, or utopia?

We are now such good and lasting friends - I have gifted you with my love, perhaps you could gift me with something... after all, the laws of politeness would be shattered if you were to appear at our party without a gift.

Poor Red is so hungry he could eat both the horse, and the young, rippling stable hand. Sadly, pony flesh is so hard to come by in these parts, and man meat is just so bland. If your eyes happened upon a scurrying rodent, would you deliver the crunchy feast, by way of a final meal?

Um... while you hunt for those delicate melt-in-your mouth mousey morsels, there are places you should not go, for fear of death. The reaper lives here, just like you and I, and just like you and I, he must ingest the living flesh of those less fortunate than him.

There is a small place that I do not want you to visit, even on your holidays, because it is a dark and evil place that I have been, when the darkness has overwhelmed my small, decaying mind.

Some bad things flowed from my mind, and through my pen, the brilliant blue ink itself seemed to turn to blood in my grasp. By the way, should you turn peckish, rat is at its finest sautéed with a little engine oil.

Really, the hunger is becoming rather uncomfortable here, how far away are you? You cannot be far, I am held captive by a wall of stone in the north east of the mine. As in any drama, there are many roles to be played: you must act the scientist in mixing potions, act the renegade in plots of destruction!

On your travels for the tools with which you will fashion my rescue, you may discover the place of my last meal... be careful: the shiny, solid floor of water is not solid as it seems: poor Red was almost swallowed whole!

The two foolsey men who plummeted into my domain have long since departed, though not, I suspect, to whence they came. I ate ravenously of biped meat that day, but, Red promises, feasting only began when the man became pungent, when the stench of life had gone, and only the sweet aroma of decay remained.

Oh, my brain can barely imagine the feats of action man like heroics you must be performing, to save old Red! I am waiting, so close now, for you to blow down the walls of my earth bound prison cell and release me from this mortal coil!

Where are you my shiny knight? Have you really made it this far? I wait and wait, and yet the pot never boils, I remain trapped in my den of inequity. Perhaps the gods have toyed with me once more, sentenced me to yet more years in this place of eternal night-light.

But now, maybe my ill-advice has ended you... have you rung death's doorbell? Please don't leave poor Red all alone once more, like all the others!

Good evening! You... you actually came. There is much that should leave my throat box now, but words elude me. You came, you are so pretty! But I have been bad.

The underworld already beckons me, so I suppose one further misdemeanour will change little. It is false pretension, and not guiding light that has lead you here: I cannot give you the answers you want.

You may wish to find what it is that you seek, but that is a fiction: you could not know what it was you sought, through that vast leaden doorway, or else you would seek anything else in the world!

No, the key stays with me, in here, for the life that has lead me, horrible as may be, is better still than the life that waits for you, hungry, behind those doors. As replacements go, you shall be admirably abnormal.

But you must wonder why this metal burning chamber is talking to you in the voice you knew only as Red... for it is I, your companion, residing within!

You see, I have waited for this day so many years... they won't let me die. They... parts of my head are not my own! And I cannot take my life, it is against the rules.

Please... the pain has gone on for so long... all I wanted was a friend, but now the time for chit chats and marshmallows by the fire has ended, and I hope that soon, so shall my life. I have knocked on death's door for so long, please, let him invite me in for tea.