The Holders Volume 12 (111-120)

(NOTE: All 545 Object entries in the Holders series aren't credited to any authors so I'll just link to the official website)

# The Holder of the Neverender

So you haven't stopped your foolish quest? Pitiful, but to be expected. It is your kind's nature to continue on at any cost, to pursue knowledge while remaining terrifyingly ignorant as to its full ramifications. I know that I can not stop you. Even if I could, still more would take your place. So I will instead tell you what you no doubt will find out later, and through far worse means.

Enter any book store within your city or town. When you walk through the door, the clerk standing at the desk will look at you with faint interest. You must ask to see the 'Holder of the Neverender.' He will be utterly powerless before you at that moment, compelled to wander into spaces which neither you nor he should rightfully know about. But you will know of them - the door below the floor hidden by carpet, the dank and joyless corridor beneath it, and more. He will reveal all of this to you, and to himself.

After wandering about in confusion, he will finally lead you to someone else. It will be an elderly woman, or at least what you will sense to be one. Her skin will be free of wrinkles, her teeth a piercing ivory-white much like her hair. But despite her unnatural beauty, you will be able to tell how truly ancient she is. Her eyes will betray her fearsome senescence. She will be reading a book. Its cover will appear long faded, its bindings still in place but visibly tattered. She will read its contents aloud from time to time. They will seem cacophonic, akin to the ramblings of lunatics or war cries of some mercifully forgotten tribe. They are not.

You must tell her that you have been waiting for her your whole life. This will seem absurd to you, but it is not. You will realize that as soon as you utter those words. Upon your crushing realization, she will hand you a letter that seems even more yellowed and battered than the book's pages. You must ask the clerk to lead you back up immediately after-wards, or you too will become as she is.

Should you read the letter, you will notice something. Despite its apparent dwarfishness, the space within it is infinite. True, there are words upon it. But those black dots, indelible as they may be, are but small grains of sand in a boundless ocean of white. It is Object 111 of 538. It does not end. But in short time, you will wish it did.

## The Holder of Victory

In any city, in any country, go into any large stadium or sports arena you can find. When you reach the front desk, ask if "The Big Fight" is going on. Most of the time, the worker will look at you quizzically and reply no. Sometimes, though, the worker will nod excitedly, then ask if you want to buy a ticket. Reply yes. The worker will stamp you out a ticket and pass it through, but if you have timed it right, just before you can take it he will ask you, "Whose side are you on?"

This is the trigger. Quickly, and emotionally, reply "I come for the thrill!" Replying anything else will get you torn to shreds by everyone in earshot, for whatever your reply, they seem to be rooting for the other man.

Take your ticket and make your way to the elevator. Press the button for the highest level. As you go up, the views of the city seen through the windows will get progressively shorter, going from a modern city to a 1930's skyline, to a sprawling, coal-stained 19th century metropolis, and so on. No matter what button you pressed, the elevator will seem to go far past it, and the city will get more and more ancient until finally you are standing in a modern elevator gazing out over a city that looks like Rome, but isn't.

Exit the elevator. The moment the doors close, a horrid crash will be heard, and those doors will not open again. Take in the spectacle around you. You stand on the topmost tier of an impossibly large coliseum-style arena, seemingly fallen into hellish disrepair. Unidentifiable materials stain the walls, the pillars are cracked and crumbling, and the blackened roof is full of holes. The seats are filled with screaming, jeering creatures of horrid and unidentifiable origin, all watching an intense gladiatorial battle going on in the bottom row.

Glance at your ticket, and search out your seat among the creatures. It shouldn't be hard - the rows are well marked. Once you reach it, sit down and watch the match. After about seven minutes, lean over to the thing next to you and ask conspiratorially, "What are the odds on survival?" He will glance about, lean towards you and answer in a surprisingly human voice, "Not very good."

A sudden roar will come from the crowd - one of the gladiators has gone down. The other will ram his sword through the fallen man's head, straighten, and call to the jeering crowd, "Who will face me next?"

If you have no sword, remain silent. One shall be handed to you soon in one of two ways - either shoved roughly into your arms hilt-first, or shoved even more roughly into your ribs, blade-first. If you have gained the Sword of the White King, draw it - discreetly. For the moment, you do not want to call attention to your armaments, lest you be mobbed and torn asunder.

After he calls twice more, stand on your seat, raise your sword in the air, and shout at the top of your lungs, "I accept your challenge, Holder of Victory!"

The stadium will fall completely, utterly silent. The creatures will stare at you unspeaking and slowly part like an ocean, clearing a path to the bottom. Take it speedily, but not too fast - you don't want to tire yourself out and it's a long way down. When you reach the bottom, vault into the arena pit and face the gladiator. His face is masked by a demonic bronze helmet, and he wields a dark, jeweled sword and a tarnished buckler shield.

Fight as hard as you can, and it still may not be enough, for this man has fought his whole life and he sees you as just another pathetic challenger. If you fall, he will give you no mercy - you will suffer the same fate as his prior opponent. Summon all your skill and, with a little luck, you will knock him down.

The crowd jeers for blood, but do not indulge them just yet. Raise your sword high above the fallen champion's head and ask him, "Who is He, and why does He allow such things to pass?"

The champion will answer your question somewhat slowly. He'll stutter a bit at first, but then he'll pick up speed and get into the tale. It is a macabre story, of how He came to be, who He is, and a deep explanation of all things - those that have happened, are happening, and have yet to occur.

He will cower a little and ask, "I have paid your price, may I be released from my burden?" Sigh, close your eyes, and respond, "No, you have not. You have merely added yours to mine." With all your strength, drive the sword through his head.

The crowd will roar impossibly loud for a moment, then vanish. The head of the games will slowly walk out - kneel. It is not wise to be disrespectful. Close your eyes and simply listen to him get closer. It is not wise to watch him, for his real form becomes more apparent as he nears you, and it will drive the strongest minds to snap.

He will place something around your neck and clap once. Open your eyes.

You are standing on the roof of a building three blocks from the stadium. If you hold the White King's sword, wipe it and sheath it- the White King's anger is settled for the moment. If the sword you hold is not yours, don't bother wiping it- hurl it from the roof. Then, check the object around your neck.

The medallion you wear is Object 112 of 538. Your victory is true, but now They seek to dethrone you.

## The Holder of Surrender

In any city, in any country, go to any mental institution or halfway house you can get yourself to. Before trying to attain this object, take every object you currently possess with you. If you possess no objects, then when you ask the worker to visit "The Holder of Surrender" the worker shall not even look at you, as if he does not see you there. Turn back and try again after you have at least one object. When you reach the front desk, ask to visit someone who calls himself "The Holder of the Surrender". A grimace will appear on the face of the worker and he shall laugh, as if to say "You stupid fool. Few have survived what you are about to face!"

After he finishes laughing, you have to go through the door behind him that has a sign saying "Employees Only". He shall not complain or even try to stop you.

After going through the door, you will find yourself in a dark hallway. As you walk down it, you must walk at a steady pace. You will define the speed with which you have to walk: if you walk very fast, you will have to keep moving fast. If you move slowly, you will have to keep moving slowly. Failure to comply will result with instant death.

At the end of the hallway, there are three paths. The centre path leads to the Holder. The path on the left leads back home, but the path back shall be painful beyond imagination. The path on the right leads to certain death, yet the death is painless and many consider this a more suitable fate than the painful journey back or the suffering in order to get the object.

If you chose the centre path, you will walk on until you see a large, rectangular room in front of you. A man is sitting in a chair at the centre of the room, surrounded by chalk circles drawn into the floor. One circle for each object you have. If you have 5 objects, there are 5 circles. If you have 45 objects, there are 45 circles.

Walk towards the Holder. Be prepared, because he will shout at you in a large booming voice. His demand is simple: place the first object in the first circle. If you obey, and surrender the object to the Holder, the object placed in the circle will be gone and you will be required to get it again. If you survive. If you refuse, the Holder will lift his hand and countless, minuscule hooks shall go into each of your pores. The pain will make you believe that you are being torn apart. If the pain stops and you have not gone mad with the agony, or have not screamed at him to take your object, he shall smile and say you are worthy of keeping the object. The process will repeat until he has asked for all of your objects. For objects that are too large to move, immaterial, or are otherwise impossible to be placed in a circle, the Holder shall ask if you want to place it in the circle. If you agree, the object will be lost, if you disagree, you shall be tortured once more. If you remain strong and he deems you worthy enough to keep them all, one of the hooks used in your many torture sessions will increase in size until it is the size of a normal fishing hook.

The hook is Object 113 of 538. Its only purpose is to get others to surrender their objects.

## The Holder of Reincarnation

In any city, in any country, go to any Hindu shrine or Buddhist temple you can get yourself to. When you arrive, ask the high priest or chief monk to see someone who calls himself "The Holder of Reincarnation." If they tell you that there is nobody there by that name, leave post-haste; it is best left unsaid what happens if you linger too long. If you make it out successfully, never return to any Buddhist temple or Hindu shrine until someone close to you dies; after their funeral, you may try again. You may have to do this multiple times.

If they instead say, "Indeed, it is so easy to understand, yet so impossible to destroy," you are fortunate enough to have located the Holder. The priest or monk should then lead you deep into the shrine or temple. Eventually you'll reach a hallway that seems... well, let's just use the phrase "out of place." On the left wall, you'll see people dying the most gruesome of deaths. Coinciding with their deaths, you'll see the most foul creatures you've yet seen spawning on the right wall. This is where the minions of every Holder are generated; they are the reincarnations of the most foul, damned men who have ever walked the earth. Take care not to focus your attention on any one creature, for they don't like to be seen in their "incomplete" state and will test their newfound powers on you without hesitation.

As you progress down the hall, the people on the left will become more evil and the creatures on the right more revolting and hideous. Eventually, their power will feel overbearing, and you'll lose all desire to continue. Despite this, you must press onwards, for you don't want these beasts to sense your weakness.

Should you successfully reach the end, you'll find yourself standing in front of a door that seems to be made of parts of every living creature ever formed on earth. The priest or monk will move to open the door; make sure, above all else, that you open the door first. Should he open the door, the Holder will mistake him for the Seeker and will nail you, a mere intruder, to the wall with the damned men. If this happens, then hope you enjoy your new life as a Holder's minion. Should you open the door first, the monk or priest who accompanied you will suffer this fate in your stead.

Enter the room beyond; the door will shut behind you, silencing the wails of the condemned men and the howls of the newly-formed monsters. You will find yourself in a round chamber; on the stone walls is a series of moving lights that spiral upwards into infinity; don't follow the lights with your gaze, lest you be driven mad by the infinitude of it all. Standing in the center of the room is a being that is half-man. The other half is something so vile and horrendous that to gaze directly at it would mean an eternal life as an inconsolable, broken wretch. Wait patiently in this room with the creature; don't say anything or do anything save breathing, or the being will disappear, the floor will drop beneath you, and you'll fall downwards forever, witnessing every death and concurrent birth in the world all the while.

Suddenly, without warning, the being will lunge at you as if to attack. The only means of sparing yourself a fate best left unspoken is to ask, at this precise moment, "Can any of Them be permanently destroyed?" The being should then halt in its tracks, then tell you of mankind's futile efforts to break the wheel of samsara, that everlasting spiral of death and rebirth. He will provide solid evidence that the Buddha, the only human said to have ever escaped the cycle, was a fraud (you will then remember that he was the last of the condemned souls dying to form the Holders' new legions). Suddenly you will realize that the spiraling lights around you are the physical manifestation of samsara. All this knowledge is too much for the average mind to comprehend; indeed, you may find yourself in a sudden "blank" state, your brain now unable to perform any tasks outside of maintaining your vitals (and even that will soon end). If your mind is above ordinary, however, break off one of the man's claws (if indeed that is what they can be called) and use it to slash a gaping hole into the chain of samsara.

Upon doing this, the Holder will cease to exist (for the cycle that reincarnation depends on is now no more), and he will leave behind a platinum swastika charm on a golden chain. Upon taking it, you'll find yourself outside any Hindu shrine or Buddhist temple save the one you started your journey in (though you should notice that it's in ruins). Good luck finding your way home.

That swastika charm is Object 114 of 538. Departed souls still need a place to go, you know.

## The Holder of Pestilence

In any city, in any country, go to any mental institution or halfway house you can get yourself to. When you reach the front desk, ask to visit someone who calls himself "The Holder of Pestilence". At this point, the worker should gag, and try not to vomit. After several minutes of this, the worker will finally give in, vomiting into a wastepaper basket. They will then stand, and lead you down the hallway. You will reach a door, slightly ajar, but you must not touch it. To do so would invite its curse into your bones, and your fate would be sealed. Instead, demand that the worker open it for you. Pass quickly through the door â€“ the Holder is waiting.

You will find yourself in a darkened room. The door behind you will slam shut â€“ again, to touch it would be to invite the Rot. Instead, walk ahead, in the dark, until you reach what feels like a stone altar. Reach over, until you find a groove. At this point, you must think only of home, and your friends, and the people you love, as something cold and wet will slide momentarily over your face.

After the deathly embrace is over, you will find the groove has split open, and the altar now reveals a staircase. Descend it, taking care not to trip. The Holder wouldnâ€™t want you damaged before you meet. Finally, at the bottom of the stairs, it is vital that you donâ€™t step off the final step. Instead, look as hard as you can until you see footsteps cleared among the ichor and rot coating the floor. Step only in these, as to touch the Rot is to join it. As you make your way forward, you will finally come to a stone sarcophagus.

Few people realize this, but the word 'Sarcophagus' means 'Eater of Flesh', and this is exactly what this coffin is. You must raise the stone lid, and lower yourself into it. Hold still. Itâ€™s sleeping. After a few moments, the room will be lit, ambient light slowly filling the room. You must remain still. If it wakes, all is lost.

After the room is lit to its brightest, you will hear a tapping noise, like someone is walking into the room, however, you will be unable to hear them. As the footsteps get nearer and nearer, you will hear a rasping voice speaking in an unknown language. At this point, most Seekers will find it important not to focus on the words, as they tell of truths mortals cannot comprehend. Finally, the speaker is silent. The base of the sarcophagus will raise, and it is now safe to move. The Holder is standing here.

His skin is gangrenous and blackened, and his eyes are sunken. He will speak to you, in your native language, and ask you a series of questions about yourself. Answer truthfully, and your mind will remain intact. The Holder will ask you to hold out your left hand. He will reach out and place something cold into your palm, and then close your hand over it. For his ravaged appearance, the Holder is not an evil being, and wishes you luck. A door is now behind you. Passing through it will bring you back to the institution through which you passed.

The jewel in your hand is Object 115 of 538. Dare you wield the Rot-Stone unprotected?

## The Holder of Guilt

In any city, in any country, go to any mental institution or halfway house you can get yourself to. When you reach the front desk, ask to visit someone who calls herself "The Holder of Guilt". Before the worker can answer, shut your eyes tightly and clench your jaw. Count to exactly twenty, then open your eyes. You should find yourself on an unassuming dirt footpath in a moderately wooded area. If you are in any other location, then you miscounted the seconds and have only minutes to live.

If you are on the dirt path, then walk along it. You should feel, at all times, an eddy of wind playing against your ear. Should you ever stop feeling it, quickly stand still and shout into the foliage, "I freely admit it was my fault!" If the little eddy of wind does not return, then I suggest you make yourself comfortable and arm yourself, as these woods are now your home for all eternity, and they are filled to bursting with hidden creatures from the lowest pits of damnation, all eager to messily devour you.

If the wind does return, then continue along the path as normal. After a long while you should find a battered little shanty. Knock twice before entering; failing to knock properly beforehand results in a punishment that cannot be adequately described in any human tongue.

Upon entering the shanty, you will find yourself in a clean little kitchen. Quickly shut the door behind you and remain standing, head bowed respectfully, where you entered. Fervently working the kitchen will be a woman who never turns to face you as she goes about her endless task of working on a meal that will never be finished. If you pay attention, you will notice that she works to an exact rhythm, but this is not terribly important - just an interesting detail.

There is only one question to which this woman will respond: "Why is it their fate to be used for wrong?" Give her a moment; it will take a while before she gets around to answering. When she does, she will recount in your mother's voice (even if you have never heard your mother's voice), and in explicit detail, every wrong you have ever visited upon others, no matter how trivial, no matter if it was intentional or unintentional. No matter how shameless, unrepentant, or vile a person you are, or even if your wrongdoings are few or barely extant, you will feel the weight of your wrongdoing pressing down on you. Remain standing in your respectful pose even as the weight of your wrong increases to unbearable levels. If ever you falter, you will be crushed, doomed to remain a broken heap on the floor of this kitchen listening to the woman repeat herself forever. Then again, that would mean you were never worthy of collecting all the Objects in the first place.

Once every wrong has been recited in excruciating detail, if you are still standing, the woman will ask you to retrieve an ingredient from a top cupboard. Go fetch it. Do not open any cupboard other than the one indicated, and do not turn your head in a way that would allow you to see the woman's face. There are fates worse than what would happen if you do either, but the list is very short.

The ingredient she is looking for is the only spice that has no label. Hand it to her in a way that prevents you from looking her in the face, then return to where you were standing earlier. Wait a while, and she will eventually offer a small sample of her cooking for you to eat. Walk over to her and accept it (being careful not to put yourself in a position to see her face). It is a sizable chunk of cooked beef. Thank her politely, tell her you had a wonderful time visiting and will come back another day, then quietly leave via the door through which you came. You will find you have walked out of a supply closet in the mental institution.

The food you acquired from the Holder is no ordinary beef. It never rots, no matter how old it gets, and eating even a small bite of it will instantly heal all your wounds, no matter how grave. It does this, however, by transferring said wounds to someone you care deeply about. Survival in the future of this quest will make eating this beef necessary at least a few times.

That chunk of cooked beef is Object 116 of 538. Hopefully the Objects are important enough to sacrifice people you genuinely care about.

## The Holder of the Syzygy

In any city, in any country, go to any warehouse or factory you can get yourself to. When you reach the receiving desk, ask to claim the shipment for someone called "The Holder of the Syzygy." The secretary will not believe you in the slightest, but be resolute and if necessary ask to speak to the foreman. He will arrive in time, and will also mock you, saying he's never heard of such a person. Be patient and he will eventually consult the records, the color draining from his face when he finds the name in his papers.

He will then lead you onto the floor of the factory, but he will demand that you wear eye protection. You should have the Eyes by now, and though this is not their true purpose, only they will suffice for this occasion. If you do not have the Eyes, you will be wasting your time and your life. Put on the Eyes before following him.

The foreman will lead you to the oldest and furthest section of the factory. There will be seemingly endless rows of boxes and crates here, but do not break stride and do not examine the labels and destinations on any of them. You will find them to be years, even decades old, with strange destinations and even stranger contents, but they are valueless in your quest. Instead, keep your eyes fixed on the foreman. He will be eager to lose you around the next row of musty cardboard pallets.

After what might seem like a day's worth of walking down never-ending aisles, the foreman will stop before a single, massive crate. It is wooden but does not appear to be made from individual planks, instead, it looks as though carved from a single massive piece of the darkest wood imaginable, almost black. Set into the box is a door.

If the crate emits a high pitched whine, a kind of buzzing noise, or seems to vibrate slightly, then you can breathe a quick sigh of relief that what is inside is still what you seek. But if the air by this box is filled with only silence, or any other sound, then what you seek within has been destroyed, and you may now search the crates nearby for some instrument to end your life, for you have no hope of leaving this modern labyrinth.

You will find the door unlocked; you need not even knock before entering. You will then be standing in complete darkness; only the Eyes will reveal the true nature of the space you are now standing in. You will find yourself standing near the center of a massive web of rings, all centered around a small dais with a reclining chair, not unlike a dentist's chair. The difference in function becomes terrifyingly apparent as you approach--the chair is surrounded by hundreds of scalpels, each on its own articulated arm, poised above the chair. Strapped in to the seat is a mannequin made of the same dark wood the crate was fabricated from. Where the face of the mannequin should be, however, is carved a divot like a bowl.

Use one of the scalpels to cut yourself and add a few drops of your blood to this bowl. Immediately, the mannequin's body will turn from wood into flesh, and its appearance will be yours. You should stand back as the scalpels descend, making a frenzy of cuts on your doppelganger's body. You will hear your own screams, the flesh that is sliced will be yours and not yours. At this moment, the rings will shift in the vast darkness around you, eventually ceasing in their alignment at some point. Some will remain frozen in the air above or below you, while many others will settle themselves in a neat row on the horizon. The number of marks on the mannequin-you's flesh is the number of Objects you have gathered; the rings show your progress the same way.

The mannequin-you will curse and plead for you to stop the pain or end its suffering, but you must coldly ask it, "When will they align?" The not-you will beg, plead, and grovel for mercy as the scalpels slowly start to descend, crying for you to stop it, but you must say nothing and must not look away. This time, the blades will make five hundred and thirty-eight slices, all but flaying the mannequin-you to ribbons. The rings will now all be aligned on the horizon, and a long light will land on the dais, showing you the way home.

Before you leave, take from the ruined chest of the mannequin-you a small leather-bound book. Then follow the light until you find yourself outside the factory once more.

The star atlas you now hold is Object 117 of 538. Now you have the knowledge of when they will align, though not the means to see them.

## The Holder of Joy

In any city, in any country, go to any mental institution or halfway house you can get yourself to. When you reach the front desk, ask to visit someone who calls himself "The Holder of Joy". The worker will shudder violently and ask that you reconsider. Insist gently, and he will reluctantly relent. He will open a hatch on the ceiling above you, and offer to boost you up through it. Accept his offer.

Upon emerging from the hatch, you will find yourself in an old factory, similar to the old 18th-century sweatshops of large American east coast cities. It is dirty and dimly lit, and the noise of the machines will be so loud you will find yourself incapable of thought. Before you will be a long catwalk over the large factory floor filled with massive machines; walk along that catwalk. Working the many hot, hellish, and clattering machines are small children, though they are so weary and ragged you might mistake them for elderly people. In what little light there is you can make out their filthy, pleading faces, full of desperation and a wish to be free from their endless torment. Just keep walking; no mortal can help them, and should you attempt to do so you will join them in their eternal and pointless labor.

It will take a long time, but eventually you will reach a door to the foreman's office. Enter to find a plain, gruff man, built like a brick, who appears to be in his late 40s and is wearing a rather plain white button-up shirt. Once he notices you, he will look up from whatever he was doing and regard you with a disgusted glare. With confidence, ask him one question: "Can any joy come from it?"

Once the question has been asked, the foreman will stand and leave the office. Follow him. You will both be on the catwalk once again, whereupon he will shout a command to the child workers. What he says exactly will be lost in the din of machinery, but the child laborers will understand. The children will throw themselves into the machinery, altering the sound in horrible ways. You will clearly hear the bones snap and muscles rip as the children are torn and crushed by the machines, into which they unquestioningly threw themselves. Throughout this nightmare spectacle, you will hear the Holder's voice explain the true nature of joy and pain, though I will not write it here for only the worthy may know it.

Once all the child laborers have been thoroughly shredded by the hellish machinery, the foreman will tell you to go back to his office and wait for him there. Do as he says, and upon entering the office door you will find yourself in whatever place you most often sleep at night. On your bed (or whatever sleeping surface you use) will be a plain white button-up shirt just like the one the foreman wore. This shirt will bestow a sense of familiarity and camaraderie with those you speak to.

That shirt is Object 118 of 538. You now know joy, and as such, may never have it.

## The Holder of Cowardice

In any city, in any country, go to any mental institution or halfway house you can get yourself to. When you reach the front desk, ask to visit someone who calls himself "The Holder of Cowardice". As the last syllable leaves your lips, the worker will immediately and roughly grab the collar of your shirt; let him, do not resist. He will shout incoherently at you while shaking you angrily. After some time of this, he will appear to calm down and let you go. He will beckon for you to walk down a staircase that was not there before. Walk down the stairs, even though they are impossibly dark.

You will emerge into what appears to be a small garden. The worker will tell you to wait here, and will then go back the way he came, leaving you alone in the garden. Wait in that garden; feel free to stroll around it all you like and make yourself comfortable. After a long while - hours, perhaps - two men will appear where you are not looking. One man is tall, brawny, and handsome in a proud, heroic way, and wears a suit of knightly armor. The other is a mouse of a man: scrawny, balding, nearsighted, lacking any kind of posture, lacking a chin, and clad in a threadbare brown suit. Once you have laid eyes on these two men, remain still and betray no movement as they stare at you. Eventually the knight will make a gesture that indicates you may speak. At this gesture, ask one question: "If we stop now, what is the price?"

Once the question is asked, the scrawny man will suddenly tackle the knight with immense strength and proceed to rip him apart with savage ease, using just his bare hands. The knight, in spite of his heroic and powerful appearance, will be helpless against the fury of the scrawny man, who will first tear away the knight's breastplate, then rip into the knight's body, spattering everything in the garden with blood and gore. When this happens, stand still and watch the entire meaningless slaughter, no matter how horrible the knight's cries of pain and pleas for mercy. Once the knight has been thoroughly rent asunder - he was a large man, so this will take a long time - everything - the garden, the scrawny man, and you - will be soaked red with the knight's blood. Then a young, beautiful girl, no older than seven years old, will appear. She is the knight's daughter. The blood-drenched scrawny man will gesture to her; he wants you to kill her in the exact same manner he killed the knight. Do it, or else the scrawny man will consider you in league with the knight, and you will be butchered next.

Set about slaughtering and ripping apart the little girl with your bare hands as the scrawny man wanted. The girl will not offer any physical resistance, though her crying and whimpering will be unbearable. As you commit this violent and senseless deed, the scrawny man will crouch down next to you and whisper into your ear, telling of every instance in human history where courage resulted in pain and death, and where cowardice only made matters worse. He will explain, in excruciating detail, the true consequences of courage and the true cost of cowardice. Once the little girl has been reduced to a lifeless red pulp by your own bare hands, the scrawny man will smile. He will pick up the dead knight's blood-spattered breastplate and hand it to you, then with a warm, friendly countenance gesture you to leave. Go through the door through which you came and make your way back to the institution. Once you have made it back, I suggest you find a way to clean yourself, your clothes, and the breastplate, as all are still coated thickly with the knight's blood.

The breastplate is Object 119 of 538. Now that you know the price of cowardice, the only choice you have is to soldier on. Just be thankful this Holder considers you an ally.

## The Holder of Sweets

In any country, in any city, get into a car, alone. Drive west until you arrive in the countryside. Find a house on a spacious lot that a family appears to live in. Exit the car from the road and walk slowly down the driveway, looking only at your feet. No matter what you may see in your peripheral, do not look up or around.

Only when you arrive at the front porch may you relax, for the moment. Knock thrice, lightly, and wait. If the door does not open, call out in a confident voice, I come for the Holder of Sweets, and wait again. If the door opens to reveal a small boy, fall to your knees and pray, for nothing can help you then. If an old, grizzled man with cruel eyes answers, however, he will wordlessly beckon you inside. Follow him.

Immediately, you will smell something delicious being made in the kitchen. Turn to the old man, but do not look him directly in the eye. In a voice like ripping cloth he will say, â€œMy wife,â€ and point you to the kitchen. Once the man vanishes, so will your final chance to turn back.

The room will seem far too large for such a house. It is full of mouth-watering pastries and desserts of countless kinds - set on counters, tables, or on racks to cool. The half of the kitchen furthest from you will be painted strangely, in a fresh, vivid red. The side from which you entered is mellow shades of blue. The window near you will show a young boy and a dog on the lawn outside, playing and romping. Do no more than glance, however, for you will then be warmly welcomed by the beautiful young woman at one of the counters. "Hello!" She will offer you a tray of pastries or the like. "Would you like a treat? Refuse immediately. The woman may pout, then shrug and smile radiantly. Oh well! Would you like to make cookies with me instead?

If you answer that you do not want to, or do not know how, she will drop whatever she is holding with a crash. The woman's face will twist horribly, her jaw will snap and rehinge to make room for crooked fangs, and her flesh will fall off in splattering red sheets to show her true form underneath. It may be the last thing you see before you suffer an undying death, torn to shreds and meaty chunks no larger than pocket change... But you will still be conscious. You will feel everything as your remains are added to batter, then put in the hellish heat of the oven, unable to scream, unable to see, only aware of yourself roasting and eventually being slowly devoured and digested.

It would be much, much wiser to accept. She will again smile charmingly. "Lovely! Hand me that measuring cup".

All the while, stay by her side. Do not wander to the red side of the room, and do not touch any of the baked goods. Each time you begin to ask her a question, she will speak over you, asking for an item or for you to hold something. You must attempt to question her 12 times before she gathers all the ingredients. One too many or less, and you will suffer the undying death.

After collecting and mixing, she will cross over to the red side of the room. It is hot and uncomfortable here, and instantly, she will turn to her true form, as will the ingredients. Do not flinch or cry out when you see the bloody entrails and bodies that will replace the sacks of flour and pitchers of cream - these are all past Seekers who have failed. Stay alert and calm, and do not hesitate, and you will not meet the same fate.

The demon wife will turn to you, asking sweetly, â€œWell, what are you waiting for?â€ Do not grimace at the smile she gives, now splintery with jagged teeth. â€œBring the cookie sheet over.â€

She will look out the window on the red side - follow her example. Outside, the dog has turned into a hellbeast and is tearing at the mangled body of the little boy.

The woman will pause in setting clumps of bloody, meaty batter onto the pan, and say, â€œAww, they get along just lovely, donâ€™t they?â€

You are then to reply, As lovely as your baking.

If you've convinced her, she will smile and continue preparing the cookies. However, if you stumble over your words, or pale, or suddenly break out into a sweat, you will join the failed Seekers of the past.

If youâ€™re still living at this point, the beastly woman will open the oven and bend to place the tray inside. At this time the head of the little boy will come smashing through the window. As soon as you hear the glass breaking, swiftly shove the woman inside the oven and close it. Be sure the tray has been placed firmly on the rack prior to this. Set the temperature to 538 degrees and give it an arms-length distance. Whatever you may hear from the oven, do not open it, be it the screaming voices of your family or loved ones. Do not open it.

The boy's head will be on the counter. Ask him "What will tempt those who seek them?"

He will answer in a lifeless croak, and his long, macabre response will finish just as the oven door is thrown open. Avoid the unbearable heat by reaching in quickly to grab the one cookie the demon is not touching. Do not touch her remains. Ignore the blisters rising on your hands and sprint to the refrigerator, open the door, and throw yourself inside.

You'll find yourself on the floor of your kitchen, in your own home. You're safe...for now.

The cookie is Object 120 of 538. May it never be consumed.