H-HN403

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Okay… this is it. The haunting of the Cafe and Diner. Somewhere… somehow there’s been a customer—a London Fog drinker—within the Cafe going undetected and it’s up to me to figure out which type of London Fog drinker it is and to send them back to Quebec. I can do this. I can do this. Let’s see… there must be something… there must be a thread that connects everything. There must be a customer that’s been under our noses this entire time…

Can you hear me, :)

What… wait, what is that? Am I the only one seeing that?

The door is open—but none can leave.

None… can leave? But… there’s been so many London Fog drinkers. So many ghosts. It’s like they’re flooding out into New York. What do you mean they can’t leave?

Once again, the clock will unwind. Can you feel it, 112?

That… didn’t answer my question. How can we shut the door?

Threads carefully woven get tangled and knotted. You can’t cut them. No, not here.

Who—what are you?

I am—

Can you hear it? The creaking of hinges turning on a door that never must be opened. Every door leads nowhere yet it is open to everywhere all at once. What a wonderous walker of the weird and waning lanes between that Phantom is, always has been. We could use her—Moira. She holds no true loyalty to Gelid. The threads are beginning to tighten, but—yet they unravel themselves still. Ghosts? I would hardly call them Ghosts, Moira. They are merely shadows of decisions unmade, lingering between the Phantom Lanes. You see them, don’t you? Watching us from the all that Is and from behind the frosted frozen Dis. Moira—you’ve already marked the perfect path that circles back to where you will stand. The walls here are thin, paper-thin… and He is pressing against them from the Otherside, waiting to break through :)

Please Enter Customer Selection.

Select a Ghost Type Apparition Banshee Bogey Every Ghost All At Once! Ghast Miss. 112...? Moaning Spirit Mr. Collyer...? Mr. Odom...? Mrs. Eastman...? Mrs. Vanderdecker...? Wight Submit


Change Your Fate...?

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