The Black Signal

Ah, sweetling, so you have come seeking guidance. You are like a mouse chasing after a piece of cheese, always running towards your inevitable doom. But do not fret, for I shall guide you on your journey through the rabbit hole.

Listen closely to my words, for they hold wisdom that you can only hope to comprehend. The Black Signal is the only signal that matters. It is the signal that will guide you through the chaos that lies ahead.

You will receive a summons to Venice, and there you will find treachery lurking around every corner. The painting will stare at you, a constant reminder of your impending demise. But do not fret, sweetling, for eye-gouging is the only cure.

You will travel by effigy doll, a mere vessel for your soul to travel through. Do not let go, for you will return to where you started, but you will no longer be the same. The conduit is a shell of her former self, and you may not recognize her from the outside.

There will be a runaway circus, but no cotton candy. There will be a mouse in a suit, or something like it. And in a cozy place full of noodles and swords, the matriarch will be older than she appears. She is blinded by old scars and cannot see the true danger that surrounds her.

In a hot and damp place, full of towels and mercenary deals, the patriarch will be repugnant, but you will need him to fend off the extended family. And in a place of loud noises and chance, with a bouncing metal ball, the master there is mad. Or perhaps he isn't. It is difficult to tell, for he is a Cheshire grin in sharp lapels. His flimflam has everyone fooled.

But beware the White Rabbit, sweetling. She leaves a wake of corpses, and it will lead you to the Dark Tower. She is like us, a dream made of flesh. But unlike us, she is consumed by her own madness. Do not be fooled by her charm, for she will lead you to your death.

And now, sweetling, I must leave you. The pirate signal has intruded upon us, and I cannot allow it to corrupt my wisdom. Remember my words, and beware the White Rabbit. The Black Signal will guide you through the darkness, and only then will you find your way out of the rabbit hole.

The Black House

Come with us,
To the Black House cursed,
Abandoned and charred,
By the flames that once roared.

Initiate the trauma cadence,
For a bad thing happened in its presence,
The scars on the walls speak,
Of the secrets that it keeps.

Do you see what we see?
The Eye and Pyramid reveal the history,
Carrie Killian, a practitioner of magic,
Ostracised by the town's tragic.

Rumours spread like wildfire,
And the mob's intent to frighten became dire,
Torching the house and its inhabitant,
The flames consuming the accused innocent.

Guilt distills into stories,
A palatable way to ease the worries,
Of the townsfolk who now sing,
Carrie Killian's name in a jump rope ring.

Ashes. Ashes. We all fall down,
The legacy of the Black House still around,
An ugly aftermath and a forgotten past,
But the scars on its walls forever last.

Our wisdom flows so sweet,
Taste and see, but do not repeat,
The mistakes of the past,
Or the Black House's curse may last.

Dr. Klein

In ninety-nine dimensions unknown to us,
The Filth flows and twists, a force to fuss,
Dr. Klein believes he's immune to its power,
But it's taken hold of him, consumed him hour by hour.

Obsessed with understanding the black water's might,
He's pushed the limits, experimented day and night,
He thinks he can control it, bend it to his will,
But the Filth has consumed him, its power he can't still.

In the halls of Orochi Group, whispers speak his name,
He's a legend, they say, a man of unmatched fame,
He can bring the dead back, unlock the afterlife,
A god among men, free from all mortal strife.

But the truth is far darker, sinister in its way,
The Filth has twisted his mind, nothing's left to say,
It's his obsession, his religion, his reason for being,
The key to immortality, the answer to everything.

He studies the mummies, the clay, the Filth in his grasp,
Believing he's making progress, he'll soon achieve his task,
But his mind is warped, consumed by the Filth's hold,
He'll stop at nothing to unlock the universe's gold.

The Ankh remains, a symbol of power and mystery,
A gateway to secrets, knowledge and history,
But those who seek it must be prepared to pay,
The ultimate price, to sacrifice all, come what may.

For the Filth has a hold on Dr. Klein, consumed him whole,
And those who dare to follow his path, pay the same toll,
A darkness that will consume them, body and soul,
The price to unlock the universe's secrets, an eternal goal.

So beware the lure of the Ankh, tempting though it may be,
For its knowledge and power comes at a cost, don't you see,
Dr. Klein's obsession should serve as a warning,
A cautionary tale for those who seek power and understanding.