Look who’s there, a wandering adventurer looking for the Bananafish treasure! This episode is part of the interactive story/treasure hunt called “Quest In The Realms”. If you landed on this page because you’re trying to solve the mystery, don’t hesitate and keep delving in the story. If you came here through random loitering, what are you waiting for!?
11
“What do you say? How about it? ” she asks again.
“How about you get fucked and rot,” you say. “You’re dead, girl. How? I don’t know. But I’m sure as hell not letting you in the band. It was cool to buy our gear but you got places to be. Heaven? Hell? Someplace in between. But here ain’t it. Even in undeath, you still can’t sing.”
You stand from the filthy floor and make to leave. She grabs your wrist, and her touch is cold and wet.
“Wrong answer,” she says.
A second later, she has you face down on the ground. Your wrists and ankles are ensnared with broken guitar strings that cut your flesh and your pants are around your legs, ass exposed. She holds a rusted whammy bar in front of you, heating it with a blow torch.
“Let’s do a group tattoo. What do you think? You know, for the band.”
You struggle but the strings cut at your flesh.
“Do you want to know how I ended up like this?”
“No,” you say. “And I don’t care!” She steps behind you and prods your butt cheek with the burning metal. You scream in pain and hear the sizzling of your flesh.
“I wanted a way to fix my voice, to be the greatest singer our world has ever seen. I wanted to show you, the world, that I was great. I wanted to see your face, Meno, when I could sustain a high C then drop it to a low E with ease.” She pauses as if considering the tattoo’s design.
“My father was into the forbidden arts. He practiced divination, alchemy, necromancy— .”
“So your dad’s a fucking asshole like you. Great. When I get out of here, not only am I going to kill you, I’ll track him down and burn his fucking house down.”
Vickie presses the whammy bar again and again, marking your ass cheek with lines and curves. You squirm, scream, call her names, and the strings slice deeper into your flesh.
She marks your ass cheek again, and by now the pain is so severe you can’t fight. You shout obscenities at her as she continues her tale.
“I came across a yellow book, hidden away in my father’s forbidden library. I opened it, dabbled in mysteries beyond me, and found Him.”
Your butt cheek feels like it has been sliced to bits at a deli shop.
“I performed unholy rituals to Him. I died and was reborn. I rose from the black waters of lake Hali, Mendo. I awoke along the shores of Carcosa, bearing witness to the night where black stars rise.”
She stands before you now, dangling the whammy bar.
The guitar strings suddenly release you and you pull your pants up. Your butt cheek is swollen and hot and bloody and you know whatever weird symbol is on it will go down as the worst tattoo of your life.
“Now you’re ready,” she says, “to meet our king.”
She quickly takes your blood covered hands and the world goes dark.
