S1/E11 | The Observatory

time to the very top. Watch your step. Tonight we are going to see one of the architect's greatest achievements. You see, the design of this grand structure did not spring into his head unbidden. He ached to build his magnum opus, but sadly he was without inspiration until a late night journey to lad observatory, were he and a writer of some distinction together saw something in the stars, a pattern, a celestial plan that only he could comprehend. You See, the stars spoke to our architect and he

responded with this place. Again your step, brace yourself for the universe. This is the great observatory, an exact replica of the facility where the architect had his empiphany, with minor adjustments here and there. This was the earliest part of Hawthorn manner to be built, and the plans for the rest did not solidify until he further decipher to heaven's secrets. Please gaze into the telescope. How clear the stars are from here? Yes, directly above us. Do you

see the constellations of Malacoda, Acino and Barbariccia? Who Shapes the architect used in plotting the house's course, a house built to stretch the confines of space and time? Hello, who goes there? Ah, why am I not surprised to find you up here on such a night? Be Your dear and listen closely. We grow ever closer to our goal, the door. Remember you, remember you. To carry on. I shall fetch the Astrolabe. The magic of science is that

it creates order from a parent chaos. This telescope captures photons, particles of light but have traveled billions of miles over billions of years, and transcribes them into a picture on a piece of glass you could hold in your hand. Your cell phone receives data encoded in radio waves and translates it into voices, images, symphony. Order from apparent chaos, where chaos really just means enough data points that we

can't make sense of it. And some of sciences most effective magic is more biological than you'd care to think. Maybe you've heard that your body is filled with microscopic organisms, that they outnumber your own selves. It's true. Most of them live in your guts. There are nine point eight million microbes common to the human microbiome, identified sequence modified. Their combined genetic sequence is thirty times as long as

the genomes of the humans who contain them. And with these microbes, science has programmed solutions to an astonishing number of human problems. Maybe you didn't know the bugs in your gut train your immune system, touch your central nerves. The actions and byproducts of the creatures living inside you can control digestion in diabetes, heart disease, your body shape, your mental health, and on and on. You can solve any of these things by taking one pillar or another.

I take these for acne, to others for anxiety, but my parents were always uncomfortable talking about the anxiety part. One Night I was dog sitting for them and their fundraiser gala another chance for them to impress the sort of voters who only donate to the poor when they get an exclusive dinner out of it. I'd backed off els a crap called. I told them so that night. I really meant that. The couch called and a literal

eternity of streaming video potential. Besides, their dog, little johnny, would poop in the closet if you left him alone for more than three consecutive hours. My intense hope for no one at the gala to let slip to my parents that I just accepted an internship with the public defense office was basically ruining everything I tried to watch.

The first vaguely suspicious thing I remember was a deep rumbling in my gut, like a video game controller when your character takes a hit and another and another, a whole Combo. But I figured it was arrant gala anxiety or that the leftover tie curry had been finishing was a couple of days too old. Either way, I was actively ignoring it when Johnny parked up, jumped off his couch and quick clacked off down the Hardwood Hall toward the center of the House, and that was suspicious prime

closet territory. So I followed. I found him sniffing at the crack to the lower level door. He barked at it once, as if experimenting with the sound. Then he shifted to a growl. My stomach shifted to the rumble, back but sharp this time, cramps snaking between my hips. That's when the smell hit me. Above the normal cellar must and sea salt twinge of that house, something sweet and thick I couldn't define, and the sound rushing so low I thought it was my heart beat in my

ears until I realized it was the pipes. It was the house's blood, not mine, roiling through those pipes like the whole place was a shell I'd held up to my ear and my guts. I'd heard of colonies acting odd getting gassy before, but this hurt. I felt my skin crawling and when I looked down there was a shape, shapes, pushing my shirt outward and pulling, puckering down. It felt like to the bone, snatching the fabric away. I watched the flesh of my belly forming a moving image, ripples

like smoke. A cold flush exploded from the base of my spine up to my brain, more hopeless than I'd ever felt before. The pills and without knowing that I'd started running. Have you ever us time while you were driving, your hands on the wheel and eyes on the road? Then you realize half an hour is past and you don't remember any of it. Somehow the meat of you functioned to drive the car while you were somewhere else. That's what it felt like when I came back to myself.

I was standing on the front lawn of my parents house, the grass cold under my feet and Johnny's fur soft as he squirmed against my arms. There was a street light at the end of the driveway, pulsing brighter than dimmer than brighter, perfectly in time with my still twisting insides, and at my back the blistering heat of my parents

house burning. Maybe I did hear something, a woff of ignition, that draw of breath of fire takes when it's catching hold, but all I remember is the sound my guts turning over. It felt more like instinct, but I don't think it was mine. I guess it depends on how much you consider what lives inside of me to be me. Have you heard of that thought experiment? Theseus's paradox, you know. Is a ship still the same ship if you've replaced every part of it. What if our initial blueprint isn't

really us? How much needs to be added before we become ourselves? Does part of the mind, or whatever you want to call it, live in the gaps of that blueprint? They never did find an arsonist, the accelerant. It wasn't man made. It was more like a bio fuel. It was in the pipes, you know. They used micropes to make that stuff too. Maybe it was all an accident, meaningless chaos. But what if I was responsible? What if they were responsible? This symbiotic colony of creatures inside me,

that army? Were they responding to something? Were they protecting me, or were they angry at me? I don't know. I'm afraid of what might happen if I keep feeding them these but not as afraid of what might happen if I don't. M M Ah, something's wrong. I I apologize for stepping away. Oh, you look exhausted. Perhaps you should leave the stars to us for the evening and get some sleep. This is an astrolabe. Oh, I know it seems a little outdated to you such a thing, but

there is something about it. The architect used this very tool to chart and measure the stars. That lends our little exploration a sort of symmetry, wouldn't you say? Tonight I will beat the stars and all the night of the ascension, we too will know where the door is located. So many secrets hiding out there in the chasms between Gods. You Sho would rest, my friend, great things are in store for us. Tomorrow. We will meet in the architect's

personal chambers. Are Answers. We will undoubtedly find them there. For now at you. Thirteen days of Halloween was created by Matt Frederick and Alex Williams and executive produced by Aaron Manky, starring Keegan Michael Key as the caretaker. Today's story was written and performed by Lauren Vogelbaum and directed by Matt Frederick, additional writing and script supervision from Nicholas Dakowski, with editing and sound designed by Josh thane. Only two

days remain. Tomorrow, another story. Children worshiped danger and love mystery most of all. We were eleven years old that Halloween, so we decided we would visit the witch house for ourselves. Remember, we like you, news stories. We like you. We're brave and no matter where we went every street. Let us, like you, to this place and the things beneath it. Thirteen days of Halloween is a production of I heart radio,

Blumhouse television and Grimm and mild from Aaron Mankey. For more podcasts from my heart radio, visit the I heart radio APP, apple podcasts or wherever you listen to your favorite shows, and learn more about thirteen days of Halloween at Grimm and mild dot com.