The Holder of Us

In any city, in any country, go to any park close to you. Sit on the nearest bench you can find, close your eyes and scream at the top of your lungs "I wish to see
the Holder of Us!". Don't trouble yourself with how people will react to your screams, for as you finish your sentence you won't be in the realm of the
living anymore. Slowly open your eyes. You'll find yourself on a circular glass floor about the size of a parking lot. The glass will be engraved with markings in languages you probably won't
understand and pictures of beauty and hope. You will see no walls, but a void of endless darkness. You might catch glimpses of shadows with your peripheral
vision, but don't trouble your mind. It's probably nothing. Do not wonder what lies in the darkness, just appreciate the fact that you have solid ground under your feet.
To your right, you'll find a glass staircase. Walk towards it with caution.

As you start to ascend to what will seem like an endless spiral staircase, screams, shouts, gasps and other cries and sounds of agony and pain will reach your ears,
getting louder with every step you take. If at any point the grotesque choir disappears, QUICKLY scream out "We share the same fate, my children!". Should the
chanting remain silent, pray to any god you trust, because the shadows you saw before with the corner of your eye might even exist after all. If, however, the sounds
continue, you are good to go. Maintain a steady pace and climb the winding staircase until you reach a trapdoor. It will seem as if it's floating, but when you open it
you'll find yourself in an attic. Close the trapdoor and don't ever descend to the void. One visit is more than enough.

Open the rotten wooden door in front of you and you'll find youself in a long corridor. The walls are often made out of wood, sometimes rusty iron and at times out of
poker cards. Severed heads of once beautiful teenage boys and girls will be nailed to the walls, all staring at you with eerie faces full of obvious insanity. You will immediately
understand that their voices were the ones that echoed in your ears during your ascension. Their eyes, tongues and ears will be pierced with disformed pieces of glass.
Dried blood will cover their entire face. You'd better start walking because it's not wise to let a single head look at you for too long. It might work up the courage to act, and trust me,
you really don't want to know what a bodiless being is capable of.

As you walk, pay attention to the heads. There should be a pole without a head somewhere at your left. Gather up any strength you have and force your forehead
through the pole. The pain will sting, but you'll lose consciousness in a matter of seconds. If you want Them to trust you, you must become one of Them.

After what will seem like days of sleeping, you'll wake up in a spherical room. You won't feel your body because you are now a bloody head on a pole.
A meter in front of you will be a teenage girl crying and cutting her wrists with a razor. Ask a single question "Where will we stand when They come together?"
You should instantly feel the pole making its way through your brain and skull, while your head is lowered to meet the girl's gaze. However, if this doesn't happen and the
girl looks up at you and smiles, They have decided that you're not trustworthy. Your destiny is to join the heads in the corridor, screaming and gasping for the rest of eternity.

When her gaze meets yours, she will answer your question in a disturbingly detailed way, her sayings violently making their way through your mind, burning your
sanity as they go. If your wits are still about you as she finishes with a sob, she will grab the razor and inflict a deep, clean cut in her left wrist. Accept the blood bath
and the inhuman screams gladly as this will be Our fate one day. She will die, and you will faint.

You should find yourself sitting on the bench. If the park is usually crowded, you'll notice many people staring at you in disgust, with expressions of pity and
misery. Do what you will from this point forward, for We now trust you.

The razor stuck in the grotesque wounds on your arm is Object 994 of 2538. Fortunately, We don't love it as much as we value it.

Categories: | Legion's Objects |

Last modified on 2013-06-01 10:44:29Viewed 4553 times

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