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The Only Sensible Ritual Pasta

You wake up to find yourself lying flat in an unfamiliar and utterly filthy room. Your head pounds as you sit up and survey your surroundings.

“Ohhhhww. . . What hit me?”

You notice the room is dimly lit by a hanging bulb that threatens to flicker out any moment. Large piles of debris are scattered about the small room, and there are no windows.

“Hey, who said that? Where am I?”

To your left, right and straight ahead of you there are sinister looking doors. You do not fully comprehend your situation, but you must choose one of these doors. One door-

“Hey! Are you ignoring me?”

-Leads to salvation. One leads to an endless maze of halls and passages that will trap you forever, and the third leads to eternal damnation. You must-

“Wait, what? Are you serious?”

YOU MUST CHOOSE A DOOR.

“Why? The exit’s right there.”

In the cold, frightened core of your heart, you know that there is no escape from the desolate predicament you now find yourself in.

“Dude, the doors right there. It even says so. See? ‘Exit’, right on the front. Big letters too.”

After a moments struggle, you come to realize the futility of resistance and return once more to the crossroads of passages. There is no way out.

“Only because some bastard locked up the exit-”

You grumble to yourself as you contemplate-

“It was you wasn’t it? Jerk.”

CONTEMPLATE YOUR FATE.

“Fine, fine. Eenie, meenie, miney. . . That one.”

-You say to yourself as you chose the door to your left. Unbeknownst to you is that that particular door leads only to misery, death, and the destruction of your very soul.

“What? Oh HELL no!”

A sudden burst of intuitive clarity causes you to leap away back before the door closes behind you, sealing your fate.

“It wasn’t intuition, you just said-”

You must make your choice between the remaining two doors.

With a sigh, you go towards the one in the middle.

“I know what I’m doing-”

You mutter-

“-I don’t need you telling me. Prick.”

You take hold of the doorknob to the passage that will lead you to wander the maze for all eternity, oblivious to the fate that will soon befall you. Deathless, mindless and hopeless, your rotting corpse will still walk on long after-

“Gah!”

-You cry as you once again leap back from your choice of passage.

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Keeper Of Eternity

Over the past millennium, science and medicine has advanced so far as to put miracles in the hands of men. Many of the diseases that were fatal merely five hundred years ago now have cures or at least treatments thanks to the brilliant minds of man. That being so, there’s still one fatal infirmity humanity has yet to overcome, and that’s mortality.

For those devoted enough, however, there is yet a way. Located just off the East Coast of North America somewhere is a shrine dating as far back as the earliest recorded civilizations. Lost to the ages now, there is but one path to this shrine, and it still sends its call, as if daring the hardiest of man to make that perilous voyage.

If you find yourself in Savannah, GA someday and think you’d like to play your hand at immortality, simply hop in your car and continue east out of town along E President Street and continue along it until it turns into Islands Expressway. If the forces deem you worthy, or if they’re simply in the mood to watch in amusement as you throw your life away, the sky will darken with rainclouds–even if it was clear and blue only moments before–and the forest about you will seem to glow. Keep your eyes peeled and you should see a turn-off into the woods a few minutes after this happens.

Now if you’re carrying a map you’ll probably notice this path is not indicated anywhere on it, but pay that no heed. Continue along the tight and densely overgrown path at a slow pace, for if you go off the road here, you’ll have no hope of ever finding your way out of this forest, and no tow-truck will ever find the turn-off to come retrieve you. Simply follow the path before you–for while there are many bends, there are no turn-offs from this one. The trees will only grow denser as you progress, until the limbs scrape like fingers along the top of your vehicle (you should probably note that it would be a very bad idea to undergo this journey in a convertible).

Eventually, after approximately forty-five minutes to an hour of driving, you should come to a dead end, where the trees tighten about you like a noose around a doomed man’s neck. If you have a GPS system in your car it will proclaim that you’re about fifteen miles into the Atlantic Ocean. Do not attempt to reverse at this point, for you’ll find that the path is no longer there. Check your watch, or your phone, or your car’s read-out for the time, for regardless of the time of day not a single ray of light will spill through these densely packed trees. If it is dark out, or if it will be dark out within the next few hours do not open your door, and do not turn off your headlights. You may turn off your car every so often to save gas, but you’ll want to crank it up again periodically to keep your battery from dying. If you let down your guard in this forest at night, you’re as good as dead.

If you were wise enough to start this trip early enough, and it’s still light out, you may exit the car at this point. You’ll notice the trees around you leaning in your direction, as if peering down at you curiously. In a loud assertive voice proclaim, “I am here to claim my fate, and none here shall stand in my way.”

You’ll hear a sound behind you. When you turn to look you’ll notice a small path that hadn’t been there before. Do not hesitate, do not question it, simply walk purposefully forward and start down the path before you’re trapped in that clearing indefinitely. The path may wind drastically, depending on which way you were facing when it was created, simply continue walking and do not look back, no matter how loud the rustling gets behind you.

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Sever The Cord

Many have speculated that the plane in which we live is not the only plane in existence. Those who say this will usually then go on to ponder realms of mystery and wonder. The truth is, there is a second plane, but it is not filled with the euphoric images that most people conjure up. However, it is not filled with horrors, either, rather, it is a perfect emulation of our world. There is no difference at all. Whatever exists in our plane also exists on the Second Plane. Even you exist on the Second Plane. In fact, those “copies” of ourselves, those extra-dimensional clones, are bonded to us. Whatever action we take, they take, and vice versa. That means that, in the other plane, that other you is reading this right now.

In this Second Plane, there is only one difference. A God resides there, though some may call him a Devil, watching over the mirrors of those in Our Realm. This God has no mirror. He resides only in the Second Plane. Our “Copies” cannot see him, either, for unknown reasons. But he can see them. He knows what they are doing. Therefore, he knows what YOU are doing. There is only one way to escape this constant watching, but it could come at a terrible price.

Stand before a mirror. You see your reflection? That is your Copy. Look him straight in the eye, and will with all of your might that what you see before you is not YOU; rather, it is a perfect emulation of you. As soon as you have made this mental breakthrough, turn off the lights. Wait a while, about two minutes should do. Then, turn them back on. Your reflection will be gone. You have just severed the bond between you and your Copy. You can no longer see him, but he exists. Now, however, you will be free to do as you please, without your Copy mirroring it, and without the God knowing what you are doing. You could murder a thousand people, and walk without fear of retribution.

However, it is not recommended that you do this. As you sever the bond, the same decay that effected the bond will eat slowly up the remnants of one side of the “cord”. As it reaches whichever you was on that particular side, it will begin to eat away at its soul. Whichever version of you is effected will become sicklier, paler. It will stink of death, its movements will become stiff. As it nears the final stages of this illness, it will become merely a shadow of itself.

It becomes a ghost. Cursed to forever roam whatever existence it resides in, a shattered soul and lost cause. However, if it is not you that is affected by this illness, but your Copy, you will walk free. You will walk without judgment. You will be a God among men.

But be careful, for if that disease eats up your side of the cord, you will fall prey to its effects.

Trust me. I know.

The Socratic Method

A secret society meets once every three years at a small diner in West Virginia. To join, you must come to the American Grill diner located in Cricket at 9:30 PM on September the twenty-first. The only uniform is a heavy overcoat and a green tie. Order an “Eggs and bacon platter with coffee.” The waiter will tell you that the breakfast menu is unavailable, reply, “Well, just the coffee then.” You’ll be allowed to stay after closing time for the meet. The meeting itself is a meeting of minds and philosophy regarding immortality. The society is called “The Socratic Method.” They hoist their mugs at the beginning and end of the meeting and say “Death to Socrates.” It’s rumored a little hemlock is added to the first cup, and an antidote to the last.

Incense

I heard stories of this ritual happening throughout the Internet and decided to try it for myself since the tasks are not hard to do and the payout is worth the trouble. The materials to complete this task will cost around 10-15 dollars, which can be earned from working any sort of job. I’ll save the reward for the end because the sacrifice will go along with it, and telling you now might deject you from attempting this ritual, but I assure you that it is well worth it. Failure to either complete this ritual or doing a step wrong will not harbor any sort of consequence short of losing 10-15 dollars of regular money depending on how far you get through the process. The only time limit is that the shop will only be open between 9 at night and 6 in the morning.

The first thing you will want to do is find the small incense shop that will sell you the materials. The shop will be present in any sort of city, or so I’m told. As of now, the cities that definitely have the stores are Los Angeles, Las Vegas, Chicago, Miami, Seattle, Washington D.C., San Antonio, and Salt Lake City. If you find one in your city and it’s not listed above, you may retell this story and include your city, but only if you want to, if not, whatever. The shop will not be attached to any other store and will be located in the outskirts of the city. It will not have any sort of neon sign and will not advertise at all. You can tell if you’ve found the correct place if it has one of three marking near the entrance. It’ll either have a) a red door with a gold eye painted on it b) A small wooden plank with an eagle on it with a golden eye painted onto said eagle or c) a welcome mat with the eagle mentioned above painted on it. The eagle means nothing, but the eye is supposed to signify a calm mind. When you’ve found the place, merely enter the shop. There is no special knock, password, or any other fancy shenanigans. It was pretty nice actually, considering the fancy antics that you have to do with most of the other rituals.

Upon entering the shop, you’ll notice the faint smell of aroma. There will be no music playing, though you may hear other costumers in the shop. It you do hear other costumers, leave the shop and come back the next day. You’ll approach the counter and ring the bell. An intimidating black man will come out of the black room and ask you what you want. You’ll tell him that you want three distinct kinds of incense in a commanding voice and lay a five-dollar bill on the table. You must specifically ask for “Satya Sai Baba Nag Champa Agarbatti”, “Satya Super Hit”, and “Sri Sai Flora”. He’ll go into the back room and retrieve the incense. When he returns, he’ll take your five dollar bill and ask if that’d be all for you. You’ll tell him no and slap another five dollars on the table. You’ll then ask for an incense box to go along with your incense. He’ll go into the back room once again and retrieve a normal wooden incense box, which will be about two feet long, and have holes cut into the top. There may be a pattern near the bottom of the box, but that is unimportant. Inspect the box. If it is in perfect condition, place it back on the table and ask for another one, but take your five-dollar bill back and slap a ten down. He’ll take your ten and take the box back into the back room. He’ll come back out with another box. This box will have a broken hinge, but will still open and close. You are to tell the man that this box is perfect, collect your things, and leave immediately. There have been records that the man will give you the broken box first and you’d end up saving $5, but it didn’t for me, just fork over the other five and don’t complain (I’m serious…DON’T COMPLAIN).

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The Tundra

The native villagers around these parts say that there’s a stretch of tundra just north of here that is occupied by benevolent spirits. These spirits grant insight and warning to whoever visits them at night, once the sun has disappeared entirely and left the world in jet darkness. I drove out to the middle of the frozen expanse of ice and waited, hoping to catch a glimpse of whatever commanded these people’s reverence. They send their children out, bundled in furs to keep from freezing, on the eve of their 15th birthday to seek an audience with these spirits. Once they have achieved this, the children run home to their parents to share the news. From then on these children are considered adults in the village. Engaged couples visit this tundra on the night before their wedding. The entire village stays up all night awaiting their return, as it is upon their return that the couple either decides to proceed with their marriage, or to abandon it. The elderly visit the tundra whenever they are sick or ailing, and often make their condition worse by staying all night in the cold. When they return, however, it is most often with an air of sheer serenity.

So I waited, curious to see what phenomenon might inspire people so powerfully. I waited for hours, bundled in my parka and sitting on the hood of my pickup. I waited until I felt that I was going to freeze to death, even in my thick clothing.

I heard the spirit before I saw it. A crunching of snow in the silence made me jump off my truck and spin around. A hunched, gray-skinned man stood a few meters away. Sad, yellowed eyes stared back at me, set inside a skull from which sprouted only a few greasy hairs. He breathed heavily, with a rattle that shook his fragile ribcage, and one of his arms looked as if it had been messily broken and then neglected, allowing it to knit back together imperfectly. Badly scarred flesh marred his splayed legs. The man stared at me for perhaps ten seconds, breathing in the frigid air and exhaling a sickly dribble of steam, before disappearing when I blinked my eyes.

I spun around, looking for the man, but he was truly gone. Approaching where he had stood, I found a pair of bloody footprints in the snow. Frantic with fear, I got into my pickup and headed for the village as fast as the ice would allow. A few villagers were waiting for me when I arrived, knowing that I had gone out and curious as to what might happen. I hastily got out of my truck and, approaching the nearest villager, I demanded, “What is so benevolent about these spirits? What is so insightful? How do these spirits help you?”

“What did you see?” he asked, the look on his face now mirroring the fear in mine.
“I saw a man, horribly disfigured and desperately sick!” I screamed into his face, and the rest of the villagers around us backed away a step. “Why? What does that mean?” I begged him.
“The spirits show only one thing,” the man explained. “They show their visitors, a year in the future.”

–
Credited to David Feuling.

The Witches Tunnel

Close to where I live there is a forest, which holds a dark secret; The Witches Tunnel, a cluster of trees that have intertwined, clasping hands with each other to form a dark passage. It is said deep within the forest lives an old witch with eternal knowledge.

Walking through during the day is unsettling, a walk through this tunnel at midnight in the dead of winter when the moon is full is a different experience entirely. The branches will twist and sway as if trying to grab you and you’d swear they were alive. There will be no sound except the wind whispering in your ear, telling you to turn back. What looks like a distance of a few feet will take you nearly an hour to travel, if you turn round the entrance will be barely visible, a mere speck. Turning back now, however, would be a very bad idea, you must keep walking.

Eventually you will come out the other end, only this won’t be the same forest as it is in the day. The moon will be so big you could almost touch it and where its light manages to pierce through the dense foliage you’ll see the ground is alive with insects, one big crawling mass. Grotesque, mocking shadows will surround you in a thick blanket of fear.

As you continue, the path will split in two. Look for a crow in the the trees, she will indicate which path to take and serve as your guide. If you ignore her and take the other path, you will be doomed to walk it for eternity as punishment for your insolence. The correct path leads to a break in the trees overlooking a small lake, thick with fog. Remain here until the fog clears, then walk to the shore. Glancing at the deep black water you will see yourself reflected, only many years older. If you see nothing, you have already failed. You may ask your future self one question and it will answer truthfully. Ask wisely however, some things you are not supposed to know.

When you have your answer turn round and you will see the crow has reappeared, only now in her true form, a sunken-faced old hag propped up by a gnarled branch. She will turn and begin walking and you must follow her, a few yards behind. Be careful not to lose sight of her as you will become lost in these forbidden woods forever. She will stop beneath the tallest tree in the forest and her boney finger will beckon you over. Approach her, but do not look her in the face, lest what you see behind those ageless eyes drives you insane. In return for letting you into her wise woods, she will ask a favour of you. This could be anything, from reading a certain book to committing a murder. Promise her this favour and she will lead you out of the forest.

Upon leaving the forest return home immediately and go straight to bed. The next day, rise at dawn and return the witches favour. If you do not do so within twenty-four hours she will return to you that night. She won’t kill you herself, that would be too easy. No, she will whisper in your ear whilst you sleep, invading your dreams and filling your subconscious with dark suggestions. You will create your own death, tearing yourself apart both mentally and literally.

The witch does not forgive.

–

Credited to Nathan.

The Alternate Universe

There is another universe, a lot like ours. Entrances to it are scattered throughout the world, in the places where the most psychological energy gathers. Schools, hospitals, that kind of place. During any leap year, on February 28, this is the period of abnormal astral activity that opens the doors. At exactly midnight, the minute between the 28th and 29th, if you’re lucky or unlucky enough to be by one of these doors, it will open and beckon you. In this other universe, things are mostly the same, except all love and hate relationships are reversed. Your worst enemy is your lover, your best friend is out to kill you, that sort of thing. It’s a nice head trip, a good escape from this reality. Have fun, but remember… If you enter, you are stuck there until next leap year.

–
Credited to Shadow2by4

Salvation

In Edmonton, Alberta, there is a hotel called the Canterra, off of Jasper Avenue and 109th Street. During the night, go here and ring the doorbell. Should you be let in, look to see who the guard on shift is. If the man looks in his mid twenties, yet the hair on his head and face both are white as snow, take a seat beside the security desk. If it is any other guard on shift, leave and return in a week’s time.

Here you must wait. The guard will say not a word, nor answer any questions you may ask. He hears you, but he will not respond. He will only give you a sad look, as if knowing something terrible awaits. When the time is 2:52 AM, the guard will rise to perform a patrol of the building. Follow him only on this patrol – if you follow him at any time before 2:52 AM, you will be forcefully removed from the hotel, and lose your chance.

Say not a word as you walk the halls behind the guard. He will check that the rooms are all locked, as well as patrol the stairwells. When you both reach the 5th floor, you will notice that it is remarkably colder than the last four. Yes, the floor is deafeningly quiet – it is normal. When the guard secures all the rooms on the floor, you will both stop at a door that seems much older than any other door you’ve yet seen in the hotel. This is room 512. Only this particular guard has access to this room, Take note of the key of which the guard uses to unlock this door – it will be important later.

At this point, the guard will open the room for you and allow you to pass through. It will be quite dark, but do not yet be afraid – the worst is yet to come. Take a deep breath, close your eyes, and step through the doorway. Do not open them until you hear the door close behind you, for seeing the transition can be maddening.

It will be almost unbearably hot, here. You will find yourself in a long hallway with numerous turns. There will be thirteen doors lining this hallway – do not open any of them. Take note which door has a splash of white paint on it, this will be critical soon. When you reach the end of the hallway, you will find yourself in the living room of the suite. In each corner of the room you should see a tall figure, each with burnt flesh. They should all be sitting on the floor, hugging their legs with their heads upon their knees and facing their respective corner. Their fingers will be chewed away until their tips are nothing but sharp, boney talons. Do not address these figures; do not touch them: they are Her guardians.

In the centre of this room, there She should be. She will be sitting in an old, ragged reclining chair. It is impossible to say how She will look, for Her appearance changes for everyone. She should, like her guardians, be asleep. Do not awaken her from her slumber.

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The Murder Of Innocence

You awake at a crossroads. You have no idea how you got there or how long you have slept. There are five signposted directions to take: Life, Death, Fortune, Fate and Destiny. As counter-intuitive as it may seem, you must, MUST, take the road to Death first. When you arrive at your destination after hours of walking (which was strangely untaxing on your legs) you find a house with boarded-up windows and a large, black portal with an ornate ivory door-knocker. Using the knocker will cause a wooden hand to form out of the wordwork of the door, and into this hand you must place the Ivory Key you found earlier.

Wait, I did mention the key, right? It’s sort of vital to continue.

Oh hell, wait a minute, I skipped ahead in the walkthrough. I must’ve tapped PgDwn or something. Hang on..

Okay, did you get past the minotaur yet? By tricking it into walking into the fire pits using the red scarf? Did I tell you to take the Death path first? Okay, wait, no.. no, this is.. ah, right, no, go down the “Fate” path first. There’s a gemstone down there that opens a portcullis in the Destiny path. Man, I’ve been going about this all backwards. Let’s start over:

You awake at a crossroads. Since you’ve read the Magician’s Journal, you already know that the Teleportation Ritual has deposited you here as a test to claim your rightful place as King of Etheria. Wait, this is for the second playthrough, oh goddammit. Here, just bring up the console and type “isuckatcreepypastamakemeaspellmaster” to unlock all the spells. Then just fireball everything until you win. You win when everything is on fire. Hooray!

And then you die. Of, uh, I don’t know, SIDS. That’ll teach you to get trapped in one of these stories.