One Fish, Two Fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish

To die. To sleep. The beautiful, sweet release of death. Can any of us enjoy this blissful monotony, the ever reaching darkness of true rest?

The Archangel denies us true rest, a peaceful monotony of darkness and sleep.

The Wooden Girl denies us comfort, her strings twined inside us, controlling our every thought and spoken word.

The Eye judges us from the moment of our birth, calculating our rewards and punishments from our very impulses.

The Whisperer goads our bestial rages and lusts, turning us to killers, rapists, monsters like Him.

The Lords and Ladies of the Realm are numerous, so many more so than the 20 something your mythos states.

How of the great Mad God Azazoth, or the Murmuring Madness of Nyarlathotep, bringing their holy insanity unto the worthy?

What of The Pharaoh, the Shifting Sands, the Weeping Willow, the Bleeding Tree, the Ultimatum, the Pendulum, the Lamb, every eldritch abomination that you remain so blissfully unaware of?

THESE are your Gods, your Fears, your Masters. THESE are the point to your terror as you stay awake at night, whimpering as those incessant Whispers sound from your attic, the Compulsion forces you to murder your family, the Azoth drips from the very walls and your ancestors and deceased loved ones appear to you in gas masks, throttling you with cold, dead hands and the mind of a being you cannot possibly comprehend, a being that plays a game with you, everyone you know and don't know, and your children, and your great grandchildren, as pawns.

The Great Game is played, and you will never be a player. You, insolent, arrogant fools that you are, dear readers, aren't even pawns, for a pawn can still win. You are...

You are prey. In an ever going hunt that deals with Gods and Goddesses, Masters and Agents, Timberwolves, Dolls...

And Followers. I am new. I am only one in number, no other has been chosen. I am a Chronicler of the Terror, I write the Scripture of Fear, the Last Word of Insanity.

Come unto me, O young and afraid, for I will lead you to the Game. And whether you die or live or become something not human, something more...Well, They gave us free will, didn't They?

As a great man once said, one fish, two fish, red fish, blue fish. All kinds are needed for the Game. All kinds.