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beyond the casket door

At an hour only you resurrectionists know, your shovels hit the casket. But you find no body for the surgeons. Instead, stairs… going down.

A. Wooden walls. Plush red sofa. Dark coffee table with a lit red candle. Black rug. Large painting of a white cat. Wavering violin music comes from Room B.

B. A tuxedoed violinist squeals out a dirge. His paper-mâché fingers ripped, his face peeling. His painted expression of joy fading. If forced to stop he crumbles to the ground.

C. Twelve paper-mâché dancers waltz sluggishly to the music from Room B. They are still if the music is stopped.

D. A great feast is laid out on a table. Roasted meat, bread, and fruit. A jewel encrusted gold goblet of wine and a single plate and silverware set is placed in front of a high, plush chair. Two tuxedoed butlers with heads like ants stand beside the chair.

E. A white cat lounges on a gold pillow on a marble pedestal. It’s collar reads: Dantalion. In a deep voice, it says You have misstepped. Take the door behind me.” If further engaged it will only purr and clean itself. The paper-mâché creatures and butlers will attack any who harm it. The door opens to a dark room. Whoever enters it wakes up the next day by the empty, now normal casket. Anyone who ate from the feast wakes up alone in a coffin six feet under the graveyard. Roll a new character.

a skull

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