Diary 2 by DeYtH Banger (best time to read books .txt) 📖

man with a pointed goatee and short, cropped, gelled hair standing behind a large desk of what will appear to be mahogany. His suit will appear to be made of both human flesh and Italian silk. He may speak, and at great length. He will talk about his amazingly beautiful house and the lovely statue of his concubine resting downstairs. Do not interrupt him, and do not answer any questions he may ask. When he is finished, steel yourself and confidently ask, "May I have my salary?"

 

He will proceed to explain to you, in great detail, the value of life. He will talk of things worse than death, and he will tell you exactly what he expects you to do. The fabulous interior of the room will rot away, and the floor will turn from French weave to feces. His own appearance will become unimaginably cyclopean and horrendous. He will then fish out a small bank note from the inside of his human suit and hand it to you.

That note is Object 8 of 538. Its Holder is counting on you to spend it.

Holder of Wisdom

 

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 Wisdom." The worker will chuckle and you will be guided to an empty room. The worker will hand you a key and tell you to wait some time in the room until you hear a bell ring. Then you have to lock the door, wait until a second ring and unlock it.

 

It will open all by itself and reveal a long hallway, with all colors you may or may not know painted onto the walls, ceiling and floor. Follow the hallway until you hear a little girl singing. Stop, close your eyes and stay where you are until the girl finishes the song, even if you think that it will drive you mad. If you do move, run. Run back to the door where you came from, as fast as you can.

 

Jump through the window of the room where you waited before and you might live. Should you be unable to reach the window in time, you will be dragged back into the hallway by something that is not a little girl, pulled by this horror until time itself ends, forever feeling the pain of every soul dragged to an early grave.

 

If you do not move and the song ceases, you are free to turn around and leave forever, or walk deeper into the hallway, until you reach a door in the shape of a human. Open this door with the same key that was given to you earlier, walk inside and close it behind you. In the middle of the room you will see a desk with a bright candle and behind the desk will sit a man, with his face hidden by the shine of the candle.

 

Walk closer, but always keep the flame between you and the man's face, for if you witness what he looks like, your gaze will be fixed on his until your hands have removed every inch of skin off of your bones.

Stop when you are five steps away from the desk. The man will raise his hand and gesture you to come closer, but do not step any further than this. Close your eyes and ask him one question, nothing else. "Who will bring them back together?" You will hear the man rising from his chair and he will begin to pray. It will be a language you will not understand at first, but after two minutes, you will hear a name. Should you hear 'Anubis', then pray that your death will come quickly. If it is 'Thor' you hear, you may open your eyes.

 

The man's head will be on the desk, cut off of the body, but still talking. After another three minutes, he will stop and begin to tell you how you will die. He will describe every minute detail of your horrible death, and you will be unable to move for the length of it. Lastly, he will describe the one who will steal your life away from you, and go into such detail as to why it is necessary that you yourself will question which would be the worst: you being murdered, or you being allowed to continue to live.

 

Finally, the man's head will stop talking. It is object 9 of 538. It is up to you what you do with the knowledge of your death, for it now is inevitable.

Holder of the Future

 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 see someone who calls himself the "Holder of the Future". Do not follow if the attendant offers to show you the way; he is not the true guide, and will lead you into madness. The true guide will fall silent and hand you a sheet of paper on which the way forward is written in lines of blood and fire. Walk forward, concentrating on the writing. If your focus doesn't waver, you will pass through both desk and man to find yourself in a long, disused hallway. It may once have seemed opulent, full of color and promise, but the walls are now stained and the carpet is black and filthy. 

As you pass through the hall images will flicker in previously-unseen windows. It may seem that, from the corner of your eye, you see friends long-dead beckon to you, or lost lovers turned young and new once more as they offer themselves to you again. Voices seem to whisper that the windows hold second chances, opportunities to make things right. You can choose again, they seem to say, but you mustn't look up from the paper in your hands. To do so is to glimpse fully what watches you from outside, and that would leave you at an end truly beyond salvation. 

Accounts differ as to the hallway's ultimate, impossible length. Some say that you must continue to walk until you have glimpsed each of all your possible futures through the windows. Others imply that the closer the time of uniting approaches, the shorter one will find the journey to the end of the hall. If the latter is true, may all who enter find their path long beyond reckoning. 

You may only look fully away from the paper at the end of the hallway, and even there you may never look behind you. The door before you leads into a ballroom that, like the hallway, has fallen from its former bright elegance into filth and despair. Move forwards into the gloom until the door and all chance of escape are lost behind you. 

Walk with care. The Holder watches you even now. 

The path forward once passed straight through the center of the room, but the center has not held over the many years, and the way has...drifted. You may never find your way if it has drifted too far, and you will spend the rest of your unnaturally long life wishing you had given yourself to the windows' half-glimpsed temptations. If you are fortunate, however, you will find a single point where the little light remaining fades away completely, and there you must close your eyes and wait, regardless of what should happen next. If you have pleased the Holder, you will come to hear a cat's soft purr, and you will feel its warmth twining around your feet. 

You must keep your eyes closed until a voice has asked you "What will you do with them?" three times. To answer the first or second time will turn the purrs to snarls as the touch of a thousand razored claws pricks your throat. Only after the third and final time may you open your eyes. 

In front of you will be a woman lying on a bed. As with the rooms that preceded her chamber she might long ago have been stunningly beautiful, and though she lies naked on her bed she is nauseatingly fat, her skin pockmarked with bedsores and dead flesh and syphilitic blooms. Hundreds of cats cluster around her; eventually one will come to stand expectant at your feet. Speak only to this one, telling him "I will do what I must". 

He will then teach you the language of the cats, and once you have learned the others will tell you a secret that was never meant for human ears. You must never reveal it until such time when you have nothing else in the world to give; cats are jealous creatures and delight in the pain of those who betray their trust. 

Their secret is the 16th of 538. I may speak no more of it. 

Holder of the Present

 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 with no hesitation to visit someone who calls himself "The Holder of the Present." The worker will look at you vaguely; you have to ask him again. Once the worker understands your question he will lead you through a door into a hallway that looks like it's an extension of Hell itself. 

In this hallway you will find nothing but darkness and the feeling of unimaginable horror. If you should hear a shriek coming from the left of you, start running towards the door you just came from or you will be devoured by demons yelling incomprehensible babble from mouths awash with vile poison. 

If you should hear a shriek coming from the right of you, start running towards the door that your