text: [Themes: Lovecraft, Comedy, female protagonist]
  
  > Look around
  Mudroom (Matt Weiner)
  The porch is a mudroom, a place for taking off coats and muddy shoes. The marble front wall seems like a sheer cliff face, the porch like a flimsy shelter built onto it. The front door leads inside to the north.
  
  In one corner of the porch two strangely shaped metal hooks are fastened to the wall.
  
  In the other corner of the porch is a small wooden table.
  
  A slightly muddy welcome mat lies in front of the door.
  
  Against the front wall are a pair of blue cloth slippers and a single brown leather boot.
  
  > examine the hook
  (the hooks)
  Two black metal hooks protrude from the wall, twisting in strange ways, like the outline of the human form projected through some alien dimension. Or perhaps the Cragnes simply wanted hooks that could hold any item of clothing.
  
  The floor below the hooks is lost in an unusually deep black shadow.
  
  > get the cloak
  Taking the cloak reveals a leather boot, mate to the first one.
  
  The cloak tingles strangely in your hands.
  
  > put the cloak on hook
  (the hooks)
  You put the black cloak on the hooks.
  
  Your senses return to normal.
  
  > examine the boot
  (the mate of the first leather boot)
  A brown leather boot like the first, but without the mud. You think you glimpse something behind its pulled-out tongue.
  
  > Search boot
  (the mate of the first leather boot)
  You discover a slip of paper inside the boot.
  
  > examine the slip of the paper
  It says "Inspected by Number 8."
  
  > Go north
  Foyer (Greg Frost)
  Standing in the narrow entry hall is like being at the mouth of a cave. The only light comes in through tall windows on either side of the door and a half-round window above. All of the furniture has been removed from the foyer, leaving tracks in the heavy dust.
  
  Outside the windows, the sunset is an ominous red. Hallways lead west and east into other parts of the house. A doorway leads north; the front door is to the south.
  
  > go east
  Upstairs Hall, north end (Jason Love)
  Imposing wooden doors lead north to the nursery (which is open) and east to the master bedroom; a smaller doorway between them has been closed off with badly painted bricks. The top of the stairs is accessible through a narrow arch to the west, and the hall continues to the south.
  
  The massive black armoire still stands against the north-west wall; you can now see a pocket-sized notebook inside it.
  
  It would seem that the armoire doors have somehow been torn off since you were last here. They lie on the floor nearby.
  
  > examine armoire
  (the doorless armoire)
  The massive wardrobe's doors have been torn off entirely; trios of splintered screw-holes show where the hinges previously attached in the upper and lower corners. There's a pocket-sized notebook inside.
  
  In the doorless armoire is a pocket-sized notebook.
  
  Why do you suddenly fear that you've left your keys in The Kitchen (Edward B)? You know where your keys are, don't you? (And where's this name coming from?)
  
  > examine notebook
  A pocket-sized composition notebook with a marbled black-and-white cardboard cover. Many pages have been torn out, judging by the number of strands of torn paper still caught in the wire spiral binding.
  
  > get it
  Taken.
  
  You catch a faint smell of smoke.
  
  > read the notebook
  Turning to the first page, you find a series of notes inscribed with thin, looping letters. "July 6, I think? We've been here three
  days now. Uncle Roger said my luggage was destroyed on its way to the house. He sounded mad, but I don't think he was mad that I lost all my things. I think he's mad that I don't believe him. Uncle Theo gave me this note book to replace my journal. He also told me that he's actually not my uncle--he's my cousin, once removed, whatever that means. That seems wrong, though! He looks older than uncle
  Roger!" (To continue to the next page, simply read the notebook again.)
  
  > read the notebook
  "The house was almost empty when we got here, but people I don't recognize have been arriving all day today. I'm used to Roger not telling me what's going on, but all Theo would say was that it's like a family reunion. I don't like being around this many strangers, so I am hiding in the bathroom with my music and some tracing-gears."
  
  > read the notebook
  This page is full of idle drawings, and around the outermost margins the artist has decorated with a repeating pattern of hearts linked at the base... although, elongated as they are, they almost look more like cartoonishly twisted bones.
  
  > read the notebook
  Most of the next page has been torn out:"The old folks let down
  their guard when they think I'm not listening, so I [. . .] with my headphones on, and I heard some [. . .] say to Theo how honored he [. . .] to the Very Gated Court. He[. . .] to [. . .]"
  
  Several more pages after this one are missing.
  
  > read the notebook
  If any more notes were written, they have all been torn out. A long-legged ungulate has been drawn with heavy pen-strokes on the inside of the back cover of the notebook. It has been captioned in block letters: THE WHITE ANTELOPE.
  
  > Go upward
  Top of Stairs (Q. Pheevr)
  You are at the top of a staircase, which leads down to Landing at the Bottom of Stairs (Mark Sample). An archway leads east to Upstairs Hall, north end? (Jason Love).
  
  On the north wall is a round white wall clock.
  
  Standing against the west wall is a dilapidated kitchen sink with a pine cabinet under it.
  
  > Go east
  Upstairs Hall, north end? (Jason Love)
  Something about this hallway feels wrong. Or at least, more wrong than usual.
  
  You yet stand in the north end of the upstairs hallway: here are the large doors north and east, the hallway south, the archway west... but the lighting has changed. It's dark--too dark to see, even--but an orange light flickers under the doorway to the north-east.
  
  A couple of short-lived sparks fly out from under the north-eastern door.
  
  > go to the northeast
  Your senses scream that the room behind this door is burning, but the doorknob itself isn't hot. You swing it open: there is no fire. There isn't even a bathroom; the room in front of you just looks like a continuation of the hallway. You stride forward without thinking, but it's not until you've passed through the door that you recognize the objects in your peripheral vision as a sink beneath a mirror-mounted medicine cabinet. You turn back to reexamine the room you've just left, but you are faced instead with an old, bricked-in doorway.
  
  Upstairs Hall, north end (Jason Love)
  Imposing wooden doors lead north to the nursery (which is open) and east to the master bedroom; a smaller doorway between them has been closed off with badly painted bricks. The top of the stairs is accessible through a narrow arch to the west, and the hall continues to the south.
  
  The broken doors to the armoire lie on the floor near the center of the room.
  
  The doorless armoire stands against the north-west wall. There's nothing inside.
  
  Something has changed among your possessions.
  
  > check your inventory
  You are carrying:
  a battered yellow JogMaster (being worn)
  a pocket-sized notebook
  a slip of paper
  a calfskin coat (being worn)
  The Lives of the Roman Emperors
  a pewter box (open but empty)
  a silver urn (open but empty)
  a clipped newspaper article
  Backwater Personalities (1915-1925 edition) (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a pair of reading glasses (being worn)
  a cold spot on your collarbone (haunting you) (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a book list (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a golden apple
  a FFFFFFFF punch card
  a 923647F1 punch card
  a C353F128 punch card (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a 0B46E931 punch card (smelling faintly of mildew)
  an AE9B711D punch card (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a 00A02209 punch card (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a can of salt (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a blank punch card (smelling faintly of mildew)
  the Journal of Edwin Cragne (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a Red Triangle Key (smelling faintly of mildew)
  an Isole Perdute (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a Lettera Segreta
  a Prurito Notturno (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a Piccoli Uomini Blu (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a rusted toolbox (smelling faintly of mildew) (open)
  a jar of old keys (open)
  a splintery wooden key
  an ornate bronze key
  a sinister iron key
  a frosty blue key
  an intricately folded origami key
  a silver and ivory key
  a jar of screws (open but empty)
  a teapot (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a scrap of paper (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a snowglobe
  a black fountain pen (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a mallet (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a metal flask (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a pinch of snail paste (smelling faintly of mildew)
  an Italian magazine cutting
  a police report ("Francine Cragne") (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a note from a seesaw (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a piece of chalk
  a black box (smelling faintly of mildew) (open but empty)
  a shard
  a broken silver amulet (smelling faintly of mildew)
  Mama Hydra's Deep Fried Ones (smelling faintly of mildew)
  A Culinary Overview of Superstitions in the Miskaton Valley Region
  
  Hyper-Gastronomy, Exactness, and String Theory: a Theoretical Subdiscipline of Cooking and Baking by Chef Wheldrake (smelling faintly of mildew)
  red-rimmed porcelain plates (smelling faintly of mildew)
  red-rimmed porcelain cups (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a spray bottle that used to contain fungicide (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a key from an urn (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a gallon jug of white vinegar (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a pair of garden shears (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a rusty flathead screwdriver
  a trophy for a dog race (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a black business card (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a rusty piece of metal (smelling faintly of mildew)
  some yellowed newspapers (smelling faintly of mildew)
  an employee ID card (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a long hooked pole (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a grimy rock (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a backpack features guide (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a trolley schedule (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a pamphlet of home listings (smelling faintly of mildew)
  an antique locket (smelling faintly of mildew) (closed)
  a wad of cash (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a repaired page (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a waterproof flashlight (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a filthy rug (smelling faintly of mildew)
  Daniel Baker's note (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a pull-string doll (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a glass jar containing an insect (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a half-full styrofoam coffee cup (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a familiar gold wristwatch (smelling faintly of mildew)
  a pair of stone earplugs (being worn)
  a trolley pass (being worn)
  a Jansport backpack (being worn and open)
  a hidden pocket (open but empty)
  a key pocket (closed)
  a book pocket (closed)
  a side pocket (closed)
  a trash pocket (closed)
  a gold jacket (being worn)
  a giant milkweed leaf (being worn as a mask)
  
  > examine JogMaster
  A portable audio player with an attached lanyard so you can Wear It While You Jog! The JogMaster apes more popular brands at a fraction of the price; what it lacks in features, it makes up for in rugged simplicity. It's little more than a yellow brick of plastic with a power switch and a slot in which to insert cassette tapes. This particular unit comes with included Battle Damage, including a jammed battery cover, a missing lever to eject the current cassette, and a crimped headphone jack. Fortunately, a small speaker permits playback even without headphones. In addition to all the wear and tear incurred during normal use, you find one scar which was surely deliberate: someone carved the name "Carolyn" along one side.
  
  The battered yellow JogMaster is currently switched off.
  
  > turn it on
  You switch the battered yellow JogMaster on.
  
  A voice is audible through the soft static that now emerges from the JogMaster's speaker. The man speaks with the cadences of one addressing a gathered crowd:
  
  "--pains me to undo the work of any of our illustrious ancestors,
  the fact remains that the Incarnadine Chalice, even at its height, was little more than a hobby for great uncle Gregor. Perhaps only, in fact, something with which to distract us kids. That distraction has now become burdensome."
  
  > examine the coffee
  The swirls in your cup form a child's wagon. Modes of transportation mean that your current environment presents challenges that can only be overcome by seeking fresh perspectives elsewhere until you're ready to return.
  
  A faint smell of mildew emanates from it.
  
  "Our... organization... has worn many forms in the past.
  In rare circumstances, it has even tolerated the membership of adulterated bloodlines. I thought to continue this tradition by extending official invitation to our Mr. Chambers, whom you all know, and I interviewed him, though perhaps he did not realize that an interview was occurring."
  
  > look at the armoire
  (the doorless armoire)
  The massive wardrobe's doors have been torn off entirely; trios of splintered screw-holes show where the hinges previously attached in the upper and lower corners. There's nothing inside.
  
  "His ambition has always been clear, but I never before imagined
  just what acts that ambition might inspire him to, never imagined what plots he might engineer when I passed over him to select his brother as my successor."
  
  > go south
  The threadbare carpet holds only the vaguest hints of its original hue, and the yellowing wallpaper is crisscrossed with a web of cracks. The hole that you tore through the wallpaper emits a gentle light. The hallway continues to the north, and there are doors leading to the west, south, and east.
  
  "The man made pamphlets! Pamphlets, I say, as
  though he were hosting a Sunday luncheon! Not content to stop there, he saw fit to resume the Incarnadine Rites! This dime-store Rasputin thought these audacities might warrrant official sponsorship, and so to 'sell me' on the idea, he sought to offer me his niece as incentive!"
  
  > examine the coffee
  The clouds in your cup form a perfect fern, just like in a fancy latte. Botanical images mean that while there is much left to accomplish in the present situation, your immediate environment sustains you, and you have everything that you need.
  
  A faint smell of mildew emanates from it.
  
  "More fool him, then, as the girl had all the intuition and
  cleverness he himself has lacked. None since my grandmother has had the gumption to perform the Rite upon herself, and little Carolyn even invoked the Colorless Name as she did it. Even a practice as hokum as the Rite has power when performed with patronage."
  
  A sudden sparking noise echoes inside the hole.
  
  > look at Door
  A simple door, made from a rich, dark wood. An oval window takes up the upper third of the door, but is covered in such a thick layer of dust and grime that you can hardly see through it. The small brass knob is surrounded by a circular design of inlaid triangles cut out of deep, reddish-brown cherry wood. Even if you could see through the grime, you can't imagine that you'd see more than a couple of feet in this rain.
  
  The man's voice rises in pitch and intensity. "So let us honor her memory and follow her example. Roger already dwells in smoke, but the rest of the Chalice shall be arriving at the Manor within the hour. We will use our problem to solve our problem: go up and welcome the newcomers. (If you did not bring your knife, I have extras.) I call upon my familiar, the spirit of Egnalosaf, the great white antelope, envoy of the scintillating omnivalent Vaadignephod, and blessed reflector of iniquity; by your power, I invoke as Fuscous Alderman of the Variegated Court the commencement of this Incarnadine RIte, writ large! Go, remember, and enjoy!"
  White light flickers from somewhere inside the hole in the wallpaper.
  
  > unlock Door with red Key
  You unlock the wooden door.
  
  The cassette must be designed to loop automatically. Having reached the end of the recording, playback resumes from the beginning.
  
  > turn off jogmaster
  You switch the battered yellow JogMaster off.
  
  > Examine backpack
  You love this backpack. From the outside it's modestly sized and easy to carry, but the inside is surprisingly capacious. In addition to the cavernous main pocket of the backpack itself, there's a key pocket for your keys, a book pocket for your books, a side pocket for your sidequests, a hidden pocket for your ineffable mysteries of time and space, and a trash pocket for your trash. Zippers on all of these pockets let you open and close them at will.
  
  In the Jansport backpack are a hidden pocket, a key pocket, a book pocket, a side pocket and a trash pocket.
  
  The light in the void swells, casting strange shadows in the hallway.
  
  > put red Key in the kp
  You unzip the key pocket, deposit the Red Triangle Key (smelling faintly of mildew), then zip the key pocket back up again.
  
  You hear an electronic humming noise coming from the hole in the wallpaper.
  
  > go to the south
  (first opening the wooden door)
  
  Balcony (Reina Adair)
  The balcony has definitely seen better days. Once it was more than likely a fine place to sit and look out over the skyline or whatever one desired to do out here. However, its charm has been lost with the passage of time. The wood, once more than likely shiny and well polished, is now rotten and peeling in various spots. Somehow, despite the way the architecture has aged, the railing at the end of the balcony itself is still somewhat sturdy. All around, the view of the scenery is breathtaking, albeit somewhat unsettling for some reason. Occasionally, a slight breeze blows past you, but you can't tell if its supposed to be warm or cool. The only exit from here is to the north.
  
  A statue with a very strange appearance to it is standing here, almost as if it is watching the area.
  
  An ethereal trolley stop sign reads Lavender Line -- Cragne Manor Balcony.
  
  > look at the statue
  This statue looks to be in the shape of a human, although it is next to impossible to make out what the gender is supposed to be. Built using pure black marble, all one can do is make out the basic shape of the various body parts, such as the head, the arms, the legs, etc.
  The position is somewhat bizarre, almost like the person in question is reeling back in terror or fear.
  
  Looking closer at the statue, you notice that the right arm is extended outwards almost as if it is holding out its hand. In its hand, you discover a key! You go ahead and take it.
  
  > examine Key
  Which do you mean, the sturdy key, the splintery wooden key, the ornate bronze key, the sinister iron key, the frosty blue key, the intricately folded origami key, the silver and ivory key or the key from an urn (smelling faintly of mildew)?
  
  > look at sturdy Key
  This key looks like it's seen some use throughout its time, yet it still looks and feels very sturdy. While it shows some slight hints of rust, it has lost very little of its original color.
  
  > put Key from an the urn in the kp
  You unzip the key pocket, deposit the key from an urn (smelling faintly of mildew), then zip the key pocket back up again.
  
  > go north
  The threadbare carpet holds only the vaguest hints of its original hue, and the yellowing wallpaper is crisscrossed with a web of cracks. The hole that you tore through the wallpaper emits a gentle light. The hallway continues to the north, and there are doors leading to the west, south, and east.
  
  The light in the void swells, casting strange shadows in the hallway.
  
  > Go north
  Upstairs Hall, north end (Jason Love)
  Imposing wooden doors lead north to the nursery (which is open) and east to the master bedroom; a smaller doorway between them has been closed off with badly painted bricks. The top of the stairs is accessible through a narrow arch to the west, and the hall continues to the south.
  
  The broken doors to the armoire lie on the floor near the center of the room.
  
  The doorless armoire stands against the north-west wall. There's nothing inside.
  
  > examine the coffee
  The swirls in your cup form a maple leaf. Botanical images mean that while there is much left to accomplish in the present situation, your immediate environment sustains you, and you have everything that you need.
  
  A faint smell of mildew emanates from it.
  
  > unlock the master door with sturdy Key
  You unlock the master bedroom door.
  
  > put sturdy Key in the kp
  You unzip the key pocket, deposit the sturdy key, then zip the key pocket back up again.
  
  > go east
  (first opening the master bedroom door)
  
  MASTER BEDROOM (ROWAN LIPKOVITS)
  Et voila!
  
  Here we have the master bedroom of Cragne Manor, which is by turns contradictorily capacious and cramped. Though you can't put your finger on it, something about this windowless chamber sucks the very air out of your lungs and puts you on edge. One would have to be a master indeed to achieve any rest in this offputting room.
  
  Though it is relatively sparsely furnished, it wouldn't be much of a bedoom without a bed -- and there it is, a four-poster tall, dingy, imposing and unsettling. Next to it is a bedside table, on which resides some torturously elongated lamp -- apparently the dim room's only light source, currently turned off.
  
  To the west is the hallway door through which you first arrived, and to the east there is also a door to what is most likely a walk-in closet.
  
  > look at Bed
  You warily sidle up to the uncomfortable-looking grey bed and briefly perch on its (now confirmed-uncomfortable) edge. It's a bedroom, the bed is its central, nay defining feature -- why not try out the bed, right? Worked out OK for Goldilocks, didn't it? Well, turns out this would have been a bad idea had you thought of doing it instead of momentarily losing agency and having it done on your behalf. Right in the middle of ... whatever it was you were trying to accomplish anyway, you're hit by an invisible wave that feels like a Mack truck pulling a tractor trailer full of fatigue, you briefly lose consciousness and collapse as a veil of sooty burlap is dragged across your field of vision and a thousand thousand chittering things argue spiritedly at the periphery of your mind.
  
  When you awaken from troubled dreams, you find yourself transformed in this bed into a horrible vermin.
  
  > About yourself
  Now you are a cockroach. You have a head, a thorax and an abdomen. Your wingless carapace glints dully in the dim light of the room, which is just peanuts compared to your three pairs of limbs.
  
  > look at the lamp
  (turning on lamp)
  
  At the sound of the lamp's switch, your hitherto unimagined cockroach instincts kick in like an unstoppable force; drawing on some reservoir of limber grace and vigor -- practically racing the lamp's light to the corners of the room, you find yourself instinctively flinging your roachy self off of the bed , making a bee-line for the nearest wall -- which you proceed to scurry up -- and on to the ceiling. Along the way, the lamp's pull-cord snags on one of your legs, and its inadequate illumination once again fades like the camera bulb in a disposable Polaroid.
  
  It is upside-down on this ceiling where, unbeknownst to you, you inadvertently crawl over a magical pentacle of cancellation that has been wallpapered over. It quietly works its protective charms on you, but "protective" is relative, as you find you resume your human form and quickly discover, from your ceiling vantage point, that gravity effects humans differently from cockroaches.
  
  Down you crash, but happily, you don't seem to break anything too mission-critical.