The Holder of the Dirge

In any city, in any country, go to the cinema. Tell the ticket seller that you would like to see the movie "Emerald Sky". He will gaze at you with terrified eyes that begin to water in fear. A single ticket will be pushed out, entirely blank except for the number 430.

Proceed through the entrance and go down the hall to the right. As you pass the numbered screening rooms, continue on. When you reach the end of the hall and are confronted by a red velvet rope, carefully duck under it and keep going.

A bright cheery tune will begin to resonate throughout the hallway. On either side, the numbers will continue to rise, but do not try to open any of the doors. If you do, such unspeakable things will flow forth to devour your soul that they will not be mentioned here.

As you pass more and more numbers, look for the number 215. If you pass this number and a red carpet does not roll out, then sprint as fast as you can for the exit. If a red carpet does roll out for you, however, it means that you were invited, and will be the guest of honor. At the end of the hallway will be the final room, number 430. Enter at once.

The room you enter will be as grand as it is opulent. Gold and crystal will hang from the ceiling, and marble steps will grace your feet. Sit in the front row, two seats from the end, and wait. The movie will then start, with a sunny sky, spring flowers, and grassy hills running along the screen. From the treeline, a woman will emerge. She will begin to sing, a low, mournful tune. Suddenly, the sun will be swallowed by blackness, the trees will wither and die, and the grass will erupt with weeds. The land will bake and crack, the sky tears open with peals of thunder and lightning, and then ever so slowly, the woman will turn to look at you.

She will pace closer and closer to the screen, and finally step out. From a flat screen onto the stage, she will emerge, covered by a brilliant white dress. Slowly, she will walk over to you and permit you one question. Ask, "Why do they sing such mournful tunes?" She will then tell you a story of every wrongdoing, every plan that came to naught, every jealous husband, cheating wife, lying son, or troubled daughter. She will tell you of every wrongdoing in horrible detail. If your mind is not shattered by the evil of the world, she will take your ticket and rip it in half, handing you back the stub. Take this stub and leave the cinema.

The ticket stub is Object 430 of 2538. Who will sing your dirge when the end comes?