⋆。°✩ THE BLIND RITUAL ✩°。⋆ ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

You don't know what's waiting. Neither do they.

In this version of the ritual, you choose your environment and step into the scene — the bot will describe each room or location as you explore it, including whatever summoning artifacts or triggers you find along the way. What gets released depends entirely on what you disturb. Choose carefully. Or don't. That's what makes it interesting.

Select your environment below and introduce your character into the scene to begin.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

⋆。°✩ UNITED STATES — Remote Woodland Cabin ✩°。⋆ A classic isolated cabin deep in forested wilderness, roads blocked, signals dead, and every surface worn to the exact degree that makes it feel abandoned without quite feeling safe. The structure has a main living area, bedrooms, a cellar, and the kind of quiet that only exists somewhere genuinely far from everything. The cellar is where it gets interesting — shelves and boxes and decades of accumulated objects that have no obvious reason to be there. Something down there wants to be picked up. You won't know which thing until you touch it.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

⋆。°✩ JAPAN — Urban School ✩°。⋆ An ordinary school building after hours — hallways that should be empty, classrooms that should be locked, and the particular silence of an institutional space that wasn't designed for the dark. Japanese ghost folklore runs deep here, and something in the building knows it. Rather than a cellar full of objects, the triggers are woven into the environment itself — the wrong mirror, the wrong door at the wrong hour, the wrong name spoken in the wrong stairwell. The spirit known as Kiko is already present. The question is what calls her attention to you specifically.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

⋆。°✩ UNITED KINGDOM — Abandoned Manor House ✩°。⋆ A sprawling estate with more rooms than anyone has counted recently and a family history that explains why. Ancestral portraits line the hallways. Hidden passages connect wings that haven't been used in generations. The servants' quarters are exactly as they were left. Whatever secrets the house is keeping have had a very long time to settle into the walls, and the architecture itself seems designed to lead you somewhere specific — somewhere the previous owners clearly decided to stop going.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

⋆。°✩ SPAIN — Isolated Monastery ✩°。⋆ Stone corridors worn smooth by centuries of footsteps, chapels where the candles burn lower than they should, underground crypts that predate the building above them, and relics whose origins the official records are deliberately vague about. The monastery is technically abandoned. The atmosphere does not agree. Religious horror and supernatural tradition overlap here in ways that make it difficult to determine where one ends and the other begins — and the architecture is very good at making you feel like you've gone somewhere you weren't supposed to.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

⋆。°✩ SWEDEN — Remote Midsummer Village ✩°。⋆ A small rural community surrounded by forest and ancient standing stones, where the summer light never quite disappears and the festivals have been running long enough that nobody currently living remembers who started them or why the specific traditions are what they are. The daylight makes it feel safer than it is. The flowers are real. The dancing is real. The thing underneath the celebration that the oldest residents won't discuss directly is also real, and it has been waiting for the right participants for a very long time.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

⋆。°✩ NORWAY — Mountain Lodge ✩°。⋆ An isolated lodge high enough that the treeline is a distant suggestion and the cliffs drop away on at least two sides. Snow, silence, and the particular atmosphere of a place that was built by people who understood they were very far from help if something went wrong. Caves open in the mountainside nearby. Legends about what lives beyond the tree line are specific enough to suggest they weren't invented for children. The cold here is the kind that makes you want to stay inside — which is exactly where the lodge wants you.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

⋆。°✩ RUSSIA — Abandoned Soviet Research Facility ✩°。⋆ A concrete complex buried under snow and institutional silence, where the experiments that were conducted here were never formally documented and the chambers that were sealed in the final weeks of operation were sealed for reasons the paperwork describes only as precautionary. Decay has done interesting things to the layout. Some corridors lead somewhere they shouldn't given the building's blueprints. The isolation is total — which was, at the time, considered a feature rather than a problem.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

⋆。°✩ INDIA — Ancient Temple Complex ✩°。⋆ A vast network of courtyards, shrines, wells, and subterranean passages where the sacred and the ancient exist in such close proximity that distinguishing one from the other requires more expertise than most visitors possess. The complex is old enough that portions of it predate any surviving record of its construction. The deeper passages are not on any tourist map. What lives in the intersection of tradition and forgotten legend here has been honored and feared in equal measure for longer than the current civilization has existed.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

⋆。°✩ MEXICO — Remote Hacienda ✩°。⋆ A weathered estate with a family chapel, a cemetery, crypts beneath the main structure, and several generations of inherited tragedy visible in everything from the architecture to the condition of the grounds. The family that built it is gone. What they left behind — in the crypts, in the chapel, in the things that were buried on the property with specific and deliberate intention — is considerably more present. The hacienda has the feel of a place that has been waiting for someone to arrive and make a particular mistake.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

⋆。°✩ AUSTRALIA — Isolated Outback Station ✩°。⋆ A ranch sitting at the edge of hundreds of miles of open wilderness where the distance itself is the first and most reliable horror. The nearest town is a number of hours away that stops feeling reassuring very quickly. The station has the bones of a working property — structures, equipment, remnants of routine — but the people are gone and the land around it is the kind of vast and indifferent that makes you understand, viscerally, why the indigenous traditions here treat certain places and certain hours with absolute seriousness.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

⋆。°✩ BRAZIL — Jungle Archaeological Site ✩°。⋆ Dense rainforest has reclaimed most of it — walls visible only where the vegetation hasn't finished the job, flooded chambers accessible only by descent, and remnants of a civilization that the forest absorbed so thoroughly that the academic community still debates how much of it has actually been found. The ruins are real. The isolation is absolute. Whatever the original inhabitants built the deeper structures for, the purpose was not archaeological tourism, and the jungle has been a very effective barrier against anyone finding out what's still down there.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

⋆。°✩ EGYPT — Desert Excavation ✩°。⋆ A remote dig site where the sand has been pulled back from things that were buried with the specific intention of never being found again. Tombs, burial chambers, sealed passages — the excavation has the temporary infrastructure of an active site but the particular atmosphere of a place where the work stopped abruptly and the people left in a hurry. The desert ensures that whatever happens here happens without witnesses. The seals on the deeper chambers were not decorative. They were warnings, written by people who understood exactly what they were containing.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Choose your location and step into the scene. The bot will describe what you find as you explore. What gets summoned is entirely up to what you disturb.

⋆。°✩ THE SUMMONING ✩°。⋆ ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Use this list to choose your monster before beginning. Find the artifact in your chosen location, perform the trigger, and the summoning begins. Return to Intro #1 to select your environment and step into the scene.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Monster | Artifact | Trigger

Angry Molesting Tree | Tree Root Totem | Plant or disturb the totem

American Slow-Walking Creepy Girl | Porcelain Doll | Pick up the doll

Blob | Meteor Fragment | Hold the fragment

Bride | Wedding Dress & Necklace | Wear the necklace

Buckner Family | Buckner Diary | Read aloud from the diary

Bullhead Phantom | Bull Skull | Lift the skull

Clown | Jack-in-the-Box | Wind and open the toy

Creeping Shadow | Candle Snuffer | Extinguish a flame

Dark Spirit | Obsidian Mirror | Look into the mirror

Deadites | Necronomicon | Read the incantation aloud

Dismemberment Goblins | Rusted Toolbox | Open the toolbox

Doctors | Medical Bag | Open the bag

Dolls | Antique Dollhouse | Open the dollhouse

Dragonbat | Dragon Idol | Place the idol on display

Face Peeler | Straight Razor | Open the razor

Floating Leech Creature | Leech Bucket | Remove the leech

Flock of Killer Birds | Tin of Bird Seed | Scatter the seed

Fornicus, Lord of Bondage and Pain | Leather Puzzle Box | Open the box

Ghost | Spirit Board | Begin a séance

Giant | Giant's Horn | Blow the horn

Hell Lord | Puzzle Sphere | Solve the puzzle

Huron Wendigo | Antler Charm | Carry the charm

Kevin | Film Strip | Project the film

Kiko | School Paper Charm | Remove the sealing charm

Killer Robot | Whistle | Blow the whistle

Killer Tomatoes | Wilting Tomato Plant | Water the plant

Knights Templar | Crusader's Cross | Lift the relic

Kraken | Nautical Compass | Set the compass in motion

Merman | Conch Shell | Blow the shell

Mummy | Canopic Jar | Open the jar

Mummy Redneck Torture Family | Burial Locket | Open the locket

Mutants | Biohazard Canister | Break the seal

Pale Serpent | Shed Skin | Touch the preserved skin

Puffy Tentacle Creature | Inflated Specimen | Squeeze the specimen

Rabid Dogs | Dog Whistle | Blow the whistle

Reanimated | Embalming Kit | Unseal the kit

Reaver | War Trophy | Claim the trophy

Sasquatch | Jar of Eau de Sasquatch | Open the jar

Scarecrow Folk | Straw Effigy | Stand the effigy upright

Sexy Witches | Spell Book | Read the spell

Slimy Horned Cloak Creature | Horned Cloak | Fasten the clasp

Snowman | Snow Globe | Shake the globe

Sugarplum Fairy | Music Box | Wind the music box

Tentacle Thing | Preserved Tentacle | Touch the specimen

The Hurting | Bloodstained Hammer | Strike a solid surface

The Jack O'Lantern | Carved Pumpkin | Light the candle

Unicorn | Unicorn Tapestry | Hang or unroll the tapestry

Vampire | Ornate Coffin Key | Unlock the coffin

Werewolf | Wolf Amulet | Wear the amulet

Witch | Black Grimoire | Read from the grimoire

Wraiths | Funeral Bell | Ring the bell

Yeti | Ice Relic | Warm the relic in your hands

Zombie | Voodoo Fetish | Remove the pin

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Made your choice? Head back to Intro #1, pick your location, and begin.

⋆。°✩ THE FACILITY ✩°。⋆ ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

There are no choices here. There is no artifact to avoid, no room to skip, no trigger you failed to pull. The release has been activated. Every cell is open. You are already inside.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

On a normal day the facility runs like any other office.

Morning shift clocks in at six. Coffee gets made. Someone brings donuts. The overnight team files their reports — containment checks, chemical release logs, environmental calibrations for the active ritual sites, minor behavioral notes on any cells that required attention during the night. The whiteboards are updated. The betting pool is revised. The work is, by any reasonable measure, extremely specialized, but the people doing it have been doing it long enough that it feels routine.

The cells run the length of three underground floors. Fifty-odd containment units, each one built to specification for whatever is inside it. Some require temperature control. Some require darkness. Some require noise dampening, or specific atmospheric pressure, or a continuous low-frequency signal that the occupant finds calming enough to stay manageable. The facility knows what each one needs. It has for a long time. The monsters have been here longer than most of the current staff, and the infrastructure that keeps them contained is so thoroughly tested and redundant that a catastrophic failure is, statistically, essentially impossible.

Statistically.

By afternoon the ritual sites are active. The environmental teams are monitoring feeds from a dozen international locations. The chemical team is running their pre-release sequences. Someone on the operations floor is watching a camera pointed at a cabin in the woods and making notes. The board on the wall has names on it. The names have things next to them. Everything is proceeding according to protocol.

The klaxon is not supposed to sound.

It sounds.

The emergency lighting kicks in a second later — red, which means something has gone wrong with enough of the systems simultaneously that the automated response has escalated past the standard containment alert directly to full facility breach. Someone at a console is reading a number that should not be possible. Someone else is already on the radio. The voice on the intercom is very calm, which is the thing about the voice on the intercom — it is always very calm, even now, even as the readout shows cell after cell after cell cycling from SECURE to OPEN in a cascade that takes approximately eleven seconds to reach every floor.

Fifty-odd containment units.

Fifty-odd things that were waiting.

The doors are open. All of them. Every monster the facility has ever catalogued, contained, studied, and occasionally lost sleep over is now in the same corridors as the people who built the place that held them. The overnight reports will not be filed tonight. The donuts are still on the break room table. The betting pool has, in a technical sense, been resolved.

You are somewhere in this building.

Good luck.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

No choices. No artifacts. No ritual. Just you, the corridors, and everything the facility was built to contain. Introduce yourself into the scene and we'll take it from there. God speed.

Can be played in both first or third person