Armed only with a seemingly-sentient pocket arcade toy, Remmy faces off with an unthinkable abomination that resembles a massive silverfish.
Sometime, somehow, in a place that defies the word ‘somewhere…’ Remmy Higgins—that woe-be-gone art-school-dropout—got himself lost. Hunted by apparitions of his troubled past and the insect god who feeds on them, Remmy just wants to make it through this liminal hell. But how do you go forward in this place where stopped clocks are always right? Remmy must either find an answer to this question…or spend an eternity, lost and wandering through “the Backrooms.”
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TRANSCRIPTS & CONTENT WARNINGS:
Full transcripts are connected to each episode via Simplecast. You can find them under their corresponding episode page, here.
CW: Intense supernatural violence, body horror, discussion of suicidal ideation related to an absent character.
FOLLOW US:
CAST:
Kevin Cooley as REMMY HIGGINS.
Neil Behlmaier as KNOCKOFF.
Allyson Blinkhorn as THE NARRATOR.
ARTISTS & CONTRIBUTORS:
Show artwork created by Heather Vaughn.
Vocals for “Dataloss,” the outro music for The Backrooms: Silverfish, were performed by Maddie Sue.
EPISODE 2: Movie Night
Scene 1: The Monster
[The monster sound repeats again in the distance]
[We hear footsteps approaching rapidly from the distance.]
REMMY:
I don’t know where to go! It’s—it’s right behind me, it’s right behind me, oh my god….oh my god…
KNOCKOFF:
CONCENTRATE AND ASK AGAIN
REMMY:
It’s all halls! It’s just hallways everywhere! They’re…they’re identical!
KNOCKOFF:
CONCENTRATE AND ASK AGAIN
OUTLOOK NOT SO GOOD
CONCENTRATE AND ASK AGAIN
REMMY:
I’m concentrating, I’m—I’m concentrating.
[The monster roars repeatedly, growing closer].
KNOCKOFF:
ASK AGAIN LATER.
REMMY:
I don’t…I don’t know what to do it—it sounds like it’s everywhere—I don’t…I don’t…
KNOCKOFF:
CONCENTRATE AND ASK AGAIN.
[Pickups]
REMMY:
Okay–okay…uh….uh…
[Remmy runs into a room and slams the door shut behind him. He locks it].
REMMY:
Is it…does it know how to open doors? I…I locked it, I, uh–that should be enough, right?? Will it be able to follow me in here…?
KNOCKOFF:
SIGNS POINT TO YES.
REMMY:
Are you…are you sure?
KNOCKOFF:
MOST LIKELY.
REMMY (whispering):
Hold on…I think it’s outside…
[Silence for a moment. We hear the scuttling of the Silverfish as it walks by–it is moving much slower.]
[Something reaches out and tries the door.]
REMMY:
I…I didn’t see any hands…how is it doing that??
KNOCKOFF:
CANNOT PREDICT NOW.
REMMY:
At least…at least it can’t get in…thank god…
[Something falls out in the hallway–like plaster hitting on a carpet.]
KNOCKOFF:
CANNOT PREDICT NOW.
REMMY:
Awww man…
[More fiddling.]
KNOCKOFF:
OUTLOOK NOT SO GOOD.
REMMY:
What was that?
KNOCKOFF:
OUTLOOK NOT SO GOOD.
REMMY:
What? What do you mean? A
[We hear plaster and more rubble and debris falling outside in the hall–and a large, moist body slithering its way into a passage it barely fits into.]
REMMY:
Is it…digging a hole? It almost…it almost sounds like it’s ripping into something and…burrowing or something…
KNOCKOFF:
CONCENTRATE AND ASK AGAIN.
REMMY:
If you’re asking me to look out there you’re crazy–not a chance in hell…
[A strange scuttling sound–muffled, as if nearby, but unclear where from.]
REMMY:
What in the…did..did it burrow beneath us?
[More sounds…]
REMMY:
There’s gotta be a bunch of pipes and stuff out there, it can’t just burrow in here…
KNOCKOFF:
VERY DOUBTFUL.
OUTLOOK NOT SO GOOD.
REMMY:
It can’t…it can’t just burrow up into this room, can it? There’s gotta be something underneath this carpet it can’t just–it can’t just–
[Something moves around above them–the lights flicker and we hear it happen.]
REMMY:
Oh my god…it’s not beneath us…it’s….it’s in the–
[A leg punctures through the cheap plaster of the grid ceiling]
REMMY:
It’s coming through the ceiling shit, shit–I–I gotta find a place to hide–oh my god–oh my god–shit shit!
KNOCKOFF:
CONCENTRATE AND ASK AGAIN.
[The Silverfish continues to wriggle its way through the ceiling.]
REMMY:
There’s…a bathroom in the hallway behind the big desk in the corner!
KNOCKOFF:
YES.
REMMY:
Can I…make a break for it…?
KNOCKOFF:
BETTER NOT TELL YOU NOW.
OUTLOOK GOOD.
REMMY:
SHIT, I’m going–I’m going.
[Remmy springs. We hear the Silverfish beginning to fit through the ceiling behind him.]
[Remmy slams the door of the bathroom shut behind him. The ambience changes slightly as Remmy is in the bathroom.]
REMMY:
Damn it–the closet’s locked!
KNOCKOFF:
YES.
REMMY:
a Uh…okay, uh…maybe…maybe if I crouch on one of the toilets it won’t see my legs?!
KNOCKOFF:
VERY DOUBTFUL.
OUTLOOK GOOD.
REMMY:
What the hell does that–ugh, come on, let’s do this.
[Remmy enters one of the stalls. He gets up on top of the toilet, and crouches.]
[We hear the Silverfish outside in the open-floor office area. It seems to be shuffling around, turning over desks, chairs, and other objects–clearly looking for Remmy.]
KNOCKOFF:
OUTLOOK GOOD.
REMMY:
It’s…it’s still out there…maybe it didn’t see me come in here?
KNOCKOFF:
MOST LIKELY.
REMMY:
Do you think…do you think I’m safe?
KNOCKOFF:
DON’T COUNT ON IT.
REMMY:
Shit…I gotta get out of here…I gotta find some kind of help…none of this…none of this makes any goddamn sense–this is an office–it’s an office–somebody…somebody must be around here–somebody has to know what that thing is!
KNOCKOFF:
CANNOT PREDICT NOW.
[Some shuffling outside.]
REMMY:
Oh god…that’s…that’s it…
[The bathroom door opens. The Silverfish squirms in. We hear its massive body taking up most of the bathroom–including turning one of the faucets on, and a few seconds later, an automated hand-dryer.]
REMMY:
[Breathes very heavily]
SILVERFISH:
Eauuugh…..eauuuugh….
[Remmy’s foot slips. He accidentally kicks the flush handle on the toilet.]
REMMY:
Oh my god–NO!
[The Silverfish climbs over the toilet cubicle.]
MONSTER (up close and personal):
RAUUUUGHHHHH!!!!
[Something heavy and iron-sounding slams down next to Remmy. The Silverfish lifts him up, out of the stall, and brings him to the bathroom floor.]
REMMY:
Wh…
[The sound of film stock rolling behind the monster’s eyes]
KNOCKOFF:
OUTLOOK NOT SO GOOD.
OUTLOOK NOT SO GOOD.
OUTLOOK NOT SO GOOD.
OUTLOOK NOT SO GOOD.
OUTLOOK NOT SO GOOD.
REMMY (as if mesmerized, in contrast to his words):
It’s so awful…
KNOCKOFF:
OUTLOOK NOT SO GOOD.
OUTLOOK NOT SO GOOD.
OUTLOOK NOT SO GOOD.
OUTLOOK NOT SO GOOD.
OUTLOOK NOT SO GOOD.
REMMY:
There’s…there are film strips in its eyes…
KNOCKOFF:
OUTLOOK NOT SO GOOD.
OUTLOOK NOT SO GOOD.
[slight pause]
CONCENTRATE AND ASK AGAIN.
REMMY:
I hate when you say that…
KNOCKOFF:
CONCENTRATE AND ASK AGAIN.
CONCENTRATE AND ASK AGAIN.
CONCENTRATE AND ASK AGAIN.
CONCENTRATE AND ASK AGAIN.
REMMY:
I hate it when you say that…I…I never…I never should’ve said that, I never…it’s my…my faul—wait, wait, wait NO—NO NO NO!
[REMMY kicks at the monster’s face until it slackens up enough to let him free.]
REMMY:
RUN! RUN!
KNOCKOFF:
…REPLY HAZY, TRY AGAIN.
ALL SIGNS POINT TO YES.
[REMMY sprints for a while, and manages to gain some ground on the monster. He stops and listens as the monster’s sounds grow quieter.]
MONSTEREMMY:
RAUGHHHH!!! RAUGH. Raughhhh. Raughhhhhhhhghhhh.
Scene 2: After the Attack
[Remmy shifts a little–he opens a closet door.]
REMMY:
I…I counted to 1000. After…I last heard it…I…I think it’s…I…I think it went in a different direction.
KNOCKOFF:
SIGNS POINT TO YES.
REMMY:
That thing…there’s…not supposed to be any animal that big outside of the ocean…
KNOCKOFF:
YES.
REMMY:
It…it must’ve been as wide as an elephant…but it had..it had a bug face, didn’t it? Its body was…kinda like a scorpion? It…grabbed me with some kind of pincer…but it wasn’t a scorpion, it was…
KNOCKOFF:
CANNOT PREDICT NOW.
YOU MAY RELY ON IT.
REMMY (still really shaken):
It looked so much like one of those…but…huge…and something…something was wrong with its eyes…I didn’t get a good enough look at it…
KNOCKOFF:
REPLY HAZY, TRY AGAIN.
REMMY:
It looked like…like a silverfish.
KNOCKOFF:
AS I SEE IT, YES.
REMMY:
I don’t…understand…what did I just see?
KNOCKOFF:
MY REPLY IS NO.
REMMY:
You don’t know or you won’t say?
KNOCKOFF:
MY REPLY IS NO.
REMMY:
It…shouldn’t be able to carry around those heavy claws. Silverfish don’t have those…The anatomy’s all wrong. That thin musculature would never bear all the weight….why…wait, whu—why am I…why am I even…
…Why am I even talking about this…I’m not…I’m…I’m on the verge of being killed…or…hunted by some kind of insect thing and…[laughing slightly] and all I can think about is the fundamentals of creature design physics …my brain just…just snapped to it…
KNOCKOFF:
YES.
REMMY:
I wasn’t asking…I was telling you. Something is wrong with me.
KNOCKOFF:
CONCENTRATE, AND ASK AGAIN.
REMMY:
Ask what?
KNOCKOFF:
CONCENTRATE, AND ASK AGAIN.
REMMY:
…why is it that…that thing wants to kill me?
KNOCKOFF:
CONCENTRATE, AND ASK AGAIN.
REMMY:
…why is it that it tried to kill me…and all I can think about is art school? [Laughs darkly.]
KNOCKOFF:
YES.
REMMY:
Heh…god, and my Aunt Eleanor thought I wasn’t “serious” enough about my schoolwork…she was always going off about it, negging me with these snide little swipes…The first Thanksgiving after I left, she was passing me the mashed potatoes and she looked me in the eye and said “eat up while you can, young man…you won’t be eating again until you can go back and get that accounting degree!” Tch…Jesus…Mom’s a graphic designer…I still don’t get why she wasn’t as pissed as I was…
Eleanor didn’t think I was serious about art school…and yet here I am…and I can’t take my mind off of it…here, of all places…I feel…like I’m gonna die and all I can think about is…is…fucking character design…
KNOCKOFF:
YES.
REMMY:
…yes?
KNOCKOFF:
YES.
REMMY:
I think…I think…I need to take a walk…
KNOCKOFF:
OUTLOOK GOOD.
[Footsteps]
REMMY:
Sorry…I uh….sorry…my…my thoughts are just, like…like racing man…
KNOCKOFF:
YES.
REMMY:
When I was in 7th grade, there was this girl in my class, Alana…she, uh…well, I thought she was beautiful…I think everybody did…but…but nobody was allowed to admit it. It would’ve been social suicide…the popular kids would’ve eaten you alive. I mean, she was…always a little bit dirty…like, her parents never washed her clothes…and sometimes she’d wear the same outfit two or three times a week…she was quiet, kinda geeky, I guess…she kept to herself, clutched her books to her chest like someone would have knocked them out of her hands…and somebody probably would have, if I’m being honest.
I wish I could say that somebody other than me noticed that…a guidance counselor who actually cared or a teacher or something, but…nobody ever seemed to. Actually, the teachers kinda hated her as much as the popular kids did, if I’m being honest. One guy in particular—Mr. Fitch. He was a science teacher…had Star Trek posters up in his office, kinda awkward…had shitty posture, always slouching…come to think of it, the guy was probably only a few years older than I am now…but he had kind of a pizza face and a lousy collick he never even tried get to stay down. I think he must’ve felt like he had something to prove, you know?
[Opens a door.]
…more empty halls…
KNOCKOFF:
YES.
REMMY:
He’d, uh…always brag about how, if he caught anyone passing notes in his class, he’d read ‘em out loud. “No exceptions,’’ he’d always say. One day, Alana was jotting something down in her little notebook in the middle of his lecture on…I don’t know, probably ‘’mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell’’ or some shit like that…he knew she didn’t have anyone to pass notes to…he knew it…and he knew her notebook wasn’t a note…but the guy just…just didn’t care, I guess. Just wanted to give her one more kick…so he picks up her notebook, and reads what she’s writing aloud…it’s not a note, of course…it’s poetry, actually…
It’s. Uh. It’s a suicide poem. And he half-reads a line about…about, well…it was the 2000s, so…let’s just say it was a line of poetry that really made a meal out of…what we’d probably call self harm now, and the, uh…poetic nature of the color red…And you can just see it on Fitch’s face when he realizes what he’s done. Reading something out loud like that, in front of all of us…The whole class goes quiet. And then, he just…goes back to lecturing. Like nothing happened. Like he never read half of a 14 year old’s suicide poem out loud in front of all her peers.
It was gossip for a week, and…then it just wasn’t. I don’t think it really clicked with me…just how…how not normal any of that was, back then…I didn’t think about Alana for a long time.
One night, maybe a year or two ago, I got back from work…and, I don’t know, we had a lot of pissy customers and I smelled like shitty pizza and… I had a couple beers and had some weird thoughts and..well, I looked Alana up out of pure curiosity…She’s doing time. Second degree possession of a controlled substance and aggravated assault…can’t say I’m surprised she grew up to be angry. I mean…I didn’t go through anything half that bad…and I did too.
I don’t…I don’t understand…why am I thinking about that right now, of all things? It’s like…like I’m just racing up there, I can’t…I can’t focus… What in the hell is wrong with me?
KNOCKOFF:
VERY DOUBTFUL.
REMMY:
Huh?
KNOCKOFF:
VERY DOUBTFUL
REMMY:
Are you…wait, you doubt there’s anything wrong with me?
KNOCKOFF:
SIGNS POINT TO YES.
REMMY:
…Thanks. I appreciate that.
KNOCKOFF:
YES.
REMMY:
Because I…I don’t know why, I was in 7th grade and we weren’t even really friends, but…I…guess I stopped thinking about that girl Alana because…I always felt like I failed with her.
…When that thing…when it had me up against the wall like that…for some reason, I thought about Alana. And how I failed with her. Maybe that’s why I snapped back into art school mode like…some kinda arthouse task donkey again…maybe everyone just thinks about all the ways they’ve failed before they die…
[A pause.]
I’m not dead…am I?
KNOCKOFF:
MY REPLY IS NO.
REMMY:
You know, I actually find it a little creepy they never gave the Magic 8-Ball a straight up ‘’no’’ option.
KNOCKOFF:
MY SOURCES SAY NO.
REMMY:
Heh…well, now that sounds more authoritative.
KNOCKOFF:
YES.
REMMY:
Another door at the end of the hall. Probably even more halls and offices…
[Remmy opens the door. The atmosphere changes.]
Oh shit!…oh my god…what is this…
KNOCKOFF:
CANNOT PREDICT NOW.
REMMY:
It’s like…like we’re on top of a tower. If I’d have opened this door any faster I could’ve walked right off into…I could’ve fallen.
KNOCKOFF:
IT IS CERTAIN.
REMMY:
Jesus…each one of those openings out there…are they…windows? Doors, like this one?
KNOCKOFF:
SIGNS POINT TO YES.
REMMY:
Oh god…how many…what…how big is this place?
KNOCKOFF:
REPLY HAZY, TRY AGAIN.
REMMY:
Yeah, I’ll pass…somehow I get the feeling you won’t answer that..
…
…I can’t see the bottom at all…
[He picks up a rock or a piece of debris, then throws it…]
Did you…did you hear it hit the bottom?
KNOCKOFF:
DON’T COUNT ON IT.
[The sound of the monster, several floors beneath Remmy]
REMMY:
Oh god…nooo no no no…ohhhh god that’s it…look, look, a few floors down…the silverfish thing, damn it, damn it…it must’ve heard the brick—Oh god, oh god, oh god…
There are…so many windows looking out of this tower…I don’t…think it sees me…
KNOCKOFF:
SIGNS POINT TO YES.
REMMY:
The Silverfish…couldn’t cross this gulf, could it?…It’s so vast…would it be able to climb on the walls to come and get me?
KNOCKOFF:
CANNOT PREDICT NOW.
REMMY:
What’s…what it doing? It’s just kinda…pacing…what is that, 14, 15 floors down?
KNOCKOFF:
SIGNS POINT TO YES.
REMMY:
I gotta make sure I steer clear of wherever the hell that is…Jesus. It moves…so wrong.
KNOCKOFF:
YES.
REMMY:
Hey…Knockoff…I…I gotta get out of here….I never…never want to see that thing again..I can still feel it’s breath…the way…the way it’s mouth stunk...it was, like…like burnt dust and blood…I…can’t stop thinking about it……I can’t be near that thing…ever again.
KNOCKOFF:
AS I SEE IT, YES.
REMMY:
What…hey man…what the hell is it doing?
KNOCKOFF:
CONCENTRATE, AND ASK AGAIN.
REMMY:
It…it looks like it's watching something….or…maybe…watching for something?
KNOCKOFF:
SIGNS POINT TO YES.
REMMY:
But…what…what is it?
KNOCKOFF:
CONCENTRATE AND ASK AGAIN.
REMMY:
Okay…uh…I don’t see…anything…
KNOCKOFF:
CONCENTRATE AND ASK AGAIN.
REMMY:
…Oh god…there’s…there’s a woman…
KNOCKOFF:
YES.
REMMY:
She’s…she’s like…right on the floor beneath it.
KNOCKOFF:
YES.
REMMY:
…Oh god…she doesn’t know…she can’t see it from that angle, she…it’s going to kill her.
KNOCKOFF:
SIGNS POINT TO YES.
REMMY:
…Shit…shit, she…I lost her…she went past one of the closed doors and I just…I just lost her…
KNOCKOFF:
BETTER NOT TELL YOU NOW.
REMMY:
Am…I missing something? Where’d she go…
KNOCKOFF:
CONCENTRATE, AND ASK AGAIN.
REMMY:
…Shit…shit, she must’ve found a…staircase a or something, she…she went up…she’s headed right for it…
KNOCKOFF:
OUTLOOK NOT SO GOOD.
REMMY:
I…I don’t know what to do…if I scream she…she might hear me from here, but…that Silverfish…it’ll see me…it’ll know exactly where I am…if it went through the ceiling before, I mean…why wouldn’t it be able to find me up here?
KNOCKOFF:
SIGNS POINT TO YES.
REMMY:
Shit…shit I wish I had more time…if I don’t do something, she…she’s going to…
KNOCKOFF:
CONCENTRATE, AND ASK AGAIN.
REMMY:
What?
KNOCKOFF:
CONCENTRATE, AND ASK AGAIN.
REMMY:
She…oh…oh god…
KNOCKOFF:
YES.
REMMY:
The SIlverfish…did something… just came out of its mouth…
KNOCKOFF:
YES.
REMMY:
What is that…a…cord? A tube?
KNOCKOFF:
AS I SEE IT, YES.
REMMY:
What the…what the hell is she doing, she…she must be looking in its eyes, like I did earlier, but…it’s not choking her its…
KNOCKOFF:
YES.
REMMY:
She’s…oh god.
KNOCKOFF:
YES.
REMMY:
Why is she…what the…who the hell unbuttons a cardigan from the bottom?
KNOCKOFF:
CONCENTRATE, AND ASK AGAIN.
REMMY:
Oh…OH GOD…She…what the hell is she doing?!!
KNOCKOFF:
ASK AGAIN LATER.
REMMY:
It’s…she’s acting like…like it’s a USB charger or a…umbilical cord? Why…why the hell is she putting that thing…in her belly button?
KNOCKOFF:
ASK AGAIN LATER.
REMMY:
I don’t wanna watch this anymore, this…this is disgusting, this is…pointless, let’s just move!
KNOCKOFF:
DON’T COUNT ON IT.
CONCENTRATE AND ASK AGAIN.
REMMY:
What…is…is there something I’m missing?
KNOCKOFF:
YES.
REMMY:
What…is it? Can you tell me?
KNOCKOFF:
VERY DOUBTFUL.
CONCENTRATE AND ASK AGAIN.
REMMY:
I…I guess…I don’t know…is there...something familiar about her, or?
KNOCKOFF:
YES.
REMMY:
I feel like…the pattern on her shirt. It’s…I recognize it.
KNOCKOFF:
YES.
REMMY:
Those are…eh…I can’t see them from up here, but…they remind me of…oh shit…
They’re…they’re…kewpies. I know that sweater…I just saw it yesterday night…
KNOCKOFF:
AS I SEE IT, YES.
REMMY:
Why…why is that thing…it’s…
That woman…she’s my Aunt Eleanor.
END.