(private)

[reincarceration]

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[reincarceration]

[ The cake is good. It's sinfully good, even. As you eat it, however, something . . . feels odd. Your stomach wrenches left and the ground is coming up to meet your face awfully fast.

You try to cry out but only a bleet escapes your lips. Whoops! You've been turned into a black goat! ]

[reincarceration]

[ You decline. The boy's face darkens, a little. The piano begins to play a different song, something atonal and jarring. Behind you, the door is closing fast. You should probably leave quickly. Never mind the small white lily floating on the surface of the koi pond. ]

[reincarceration]

[You snag the lily out of the pond on your way out. It's warm against your skin and out in the hallway, it lights up, acting like a lantern. ]

[reincarceration]

[ You reach for the handle. Once your fingers are secure around it and you begin to turn you feel . . . small teeth saw into your wrist. If you stop turning the handle, the sawing stops as well. Unfortunately, to open this door it looks like you'll have to sacrifice a hand. ]

[reincarceration]

>> Sacrifice a hand

[reincarceration]

[ You open the door to this room and are greeted by white light. It's not bad, it isn't good. But it is very bright and you can't see anything. If you listen there is the desperate scrabbling of fingernails on plaster walls, but no matter where you look inside this room you can't see anything but white light. ]

[reincarceration]

[If you feel around, however, you will come up with a black king chess piece. ]

[reincarceration]

[reincarceration]

>> Go outside
>> Go back