The Holder of Twilight

Go to a sit-down restaurant and when someone comes to seat you, say to them, "I wish to see the Holder of Twilight." They will look at you as though you are insane, but seat you anyway. Get something to eat; you'll need your strength.

When finished with your meal, go to the washroom. Between the men's and women's washroom, there is a door for those in wheelchairs. Knock three times and wait for a response. If someone speaks, or knocks back, leave the restaurant and drive far away, but never leave the sight of other people until at least a month has passed. If no response is given, open the door. If it is locked, get a staff member to open the door; either you did it wrong or someone inside needs medical attention, or you did it right and damned them with your greed.

Upon entering the bathroom, go about your business. The Holder of Twilight will not wait any longer than necessary, however, and soon the room will become pitch black. As your eyes adjust, you will find yourself on a thin path. There is only one way you can walk, and upon moving forward the way back will collapse into oblivion, the wall always at your back. Eventually, the path ahead will turn white, but the wall behind you will remain dark as the abyss. When you reach the end, the two giants will collapse and the world will fade to gray. A voice will ask you for your name. Remain silent. It will ask again, this time for your birthday. Do not answer, for if you do, the creature you face shall end your life.

All you can do is ask the disemboweled voice, "Where will They become one?" The voice shall tell you of a place of safety and warmth that will be consumed by innumerable horrors, describing each in turn with a cackle of glee. She speaks of children bleeding from gaping wounds fatal to a grown man, of fetuses torn from desperate women, and of the maddened fathers who kill one another in blind fits of rage. If you keep your composure, the voice will never stop speaking until she has described all there is. If you feel ill, she will stop, and you will be able to see the speaker; a wrinkled crone older than whole civilizations. She will reach out to you and lift you up, then hand you her scissors.

When you take her hand, you will faint. Upon regaining your senses, you will be in the very place she told you about. It is a place of infinite happiness and joy, and only you can imagine the horrors they will endure.

The scissors are Object 377 of 2538. Dull blades made only to end life, the impartial judge sees both sides.