#188. The Purple Room

Posted in Uncategorized on November 16, 2010 by armaneaux

Enter any of Canada’s railway hotels and check in. Bring no luggage and ask specifically for The Purple Room. After a few moments of insistence, the porter will acquiesce and lead you into the elevator. Using a special key, the porter will open the elevator panel and press a concealed, unmarked button. The elevator will open directly onto a parlour furnished in Edwardian finery. Everything in the room: the marble, the chairs, the doors, even the maid who greets you will be some different shade of purple. Ask to see the master of the House.
The Master of the House will be indisposed, as will his elder son, but his youngest son will come out to meet you. After excusing his relatives, he will answer any three questions you ask. Unfortunately his answers will only make sense in retrospect. The young man will leave after extending an invitation to spend the night. Accept and turn in early. Around midnight, the Master’s daughter will come into your bed and try to seduce you. Refuse. Her father’s slightest gesture could seal your fate.
Instead, ask her to tell you about herself. What she wil tell you is the story of Earth but not of man. The story of creation and destruction. The story of the world itself from the beginning to the end. The telling will take all night, after which she will leave you. Leave the room and check out of the hotel without speaking to anyone else.

#187. The Headset

Posted in Uncategorized on November 16, 2010 by armaneaux

The Viscount Bennett Center on Richmond Road is home to Chinook Learning and Westmount Charter School. The two schools share a library, which has a single row of aging computers. One of these computers has a large, rugged headset with a microphone connected to it at all times. The headset is never disconnected from the computer, but no student ever seems to use it. In fact, no one will notice the headset unless it is pointed out, and even then the most it will evoke is a shrug and “One of the morning students must have left it”.
However, if you put on the headset you will be immediately seized by a sense of nausea and foreboding. The headset plays no sound other than a vague static hiss until you try to type a document on the computer it’s attached to. The headset will begin to scream. However, if you start to type the right word it will pause until you’re done typing the word. Though no one has ever tried, it’s assumed that with enough patience one could reconstruct the finished document.
The only problem is that the words are in an extinct dialect of French

#186. The Morgue

Posted in Uncategorized on November 16, 2010 by armaneaux

There is a morgue hidden beneath the coroner’s office by the Colonel Belcher, right across from the Point MacKay complex. To get inside, you need some means of picking the building’s locks. The Key will not do, as while the morgue survives amongst the ashes. However you enter the building, entering the morgue itself is far harder. If you break into the corner’s office, look for a small red button built into his desk. You have only a short time before you are noticed. If you find it, press it and dart through the panel that opens.
Descend the stairs and try not to be bothered by the growing cold. Eventually you will find yourself in a morgue furnished and fashioned in a turn of the century style. White tile that is yellowed with age covers the walls and floor and the drawers are fused shut. All except three. Drawer six should never be opened. It contains the body of whoever opens it, and the autopsy wounds the body bears will soon spread, killing you instantly. Drawer twelve should also never be opened. It contains nothing but burning blood that will fill the room with unquenchable fire.
Drawer thirteen contains the body of an illegitimate saint who was martyred when the RCMP raided his home. Break from his dried body a small piece of flesh or bone or tooth, or else a patch of his clothing. Carry it with you always, and nothing dark can touch you.

#181. The Bloodstain

Posted in Uncategorized on November 16, 2010 by armaneaux

In a storage building near the highway, near the back, Eddie Decae rents a small space for the storage of a single object too disquieting even for his shop: A small square of wood taken from a downtown ballroom during the twenties. The wood was originally part of a dance floor, but it was ruined by a splatter of blood that struck it during a violent murder. The blood is perpetually fresh regardless of how old the stain is.
To get to the stained wood, break into the storage facility after hours and break open the rooms one by one. Decae moves the square every few months to hide it from would-be plunderers. Eventually you will find the room with nothing but the square of wood inside. Take it outside of the building and set it on the ground. When the moonlight hits the stain, it will warp and twist until it forms the image of a flapper with a long and ragged gash on her neck that drools sticky-wet blood over her breasts. She’ll ask you to dance.
If you can dance with her until sunrise, keeping up with her dated but vigorous movements, she’ll vanish with the rays of the sun. Her movements will have cast her blood, red blood, all over your body and clothing. Although no one else will be able to see it, for the rest of your life you will appear bloodstained whenever you look at yourself. The applications of this should be obvious

#180. The Mustang

Posted in Uncategorized on November 16, 2010 by armaneaux

Marda Loop is haunted by night by a Shelby Mustang without a driver. Every night, at two o’clock, it emerges from the parking lot outside Basil’s Pub and begins to drive in a slow circuit around the district. The car moves slowly like a prowling predator until it draws near potential victims, whereupon it suddenly accelerates and attempts to strike them. The car is responsible for a string of hit-and-run incidents over the past year and a half, before which it was utterly unheard of. However, if one can enter the car and take the wheel, the car will be pacified and its unique properties at the driver’s disposal.
There is no agreed-upon method for taking control of the car, and most who have tried have perished. However, if you find yourself in the driver’s seat turn the car to face any of the principal compass directions and hit the gas. The car will accelerate and seemingly pass through any obstacle unharmed. Depending on which direction you turned it, the car will arrive in a different land of the dead and remain, waiting to ferry you back to the city after you’ve finished your business.

#178. The Liquor Store

Posted in Uncategorized on November 16, 2010 by armaneaux

The Liquor Store is nothing special, beyond that the owner is one of us. His stock, consequently, tends towards the sort of drink the awakened favour: strong and cheap. If you wish to learn more of the secret history, buy a bottle of Wiser’s Very Old and ask the owner to share it after the store closes. Though he was initiated in the days before days and knows more secrets than God, he’ll tell you nothing you couldn’t figure out on your own. What he will do is nudge. Imply. Insinuate. Help you think aloud.
The old man who owns the liquor store is fond of cleverness, and if you surprise him with your acumen, he may smooth the city’s rough edges for you. If you, like most, aren’t clever then you will have to ply him with his passion: liquor. Like most of the dead, he’s constrained by rules and by customs. He cannot drink unless it is purchased for him, and he cannot forget unless he drinks. If you help him, he will owe you a favour. Forgiveness of a trespass against another practitioner such as those described elsewhere in my notes, or perhaps something more mundane.
However, if he realises what you are trying to do, you won’t make it out the door. Cleverness and whisky are no match for a Smith & Wesson with more than a century of practice behind it.

#177. The Sidewalk Chalk

Posted in Uncategorized on November 16, 2010 by armaneaux

Every summer, Canadian Tire rolls out these big black buckets of sidewalk chalk with transparent lids. Inside there’s an assortment of all the usual colours, extra thick. But once in a while one of the buckets will be white with a black lid. If you see such a bucket, purchase it immediately and bring it home. Inside you’ll find the usual assortment and six clear pieces. Use the clear chalk for hobo signs, magic circles, or anything else like that.
The clear chalk leaves invisible markings, you’ll be able to see anything you’ve drawn with it by memory, but things other people have drawn will be much better hidden. To see them, break one of the other pieces of chalk. It will crumble to dust in your grip and the wind will cast it around you. It will stick to the invisible chalk. Never do this in public, as the density of mystic patterns and glyphs in most of Calgary is prone to causing migraines.