The Labyrinth beneath the Mausoleum is something else, let me tell you. But I’ll get into that eventually, one of these days. I think I’m supposed to use this space to talk about what else is in this issue? I don’t know, I’ve never run a newsletter before. Management just throws stuff at me and expects me to get the information out.
Okay, they don’t actually throw anything at me. I just walk in to work and sometimes there are notes waiting for me on the table in the break room in the employee hall. For example, earlier this week there was a yellow sticky that said “beware, the Reaper comes tonight!” I almost shit myself when I read that. Not a single thing they’ve said to me has been a lie. So far. So of course I’m walking around the cemetery in my hoodie getting spooked by every little noise. Needless to say, I decided not to wander around the Labyrinth that night and save the exploration for another day. In fact, I avoided the Mausoleum completely. And now I have no idea if the yellow sticky was a practical joke or not.
I assume not.
But holy shit, I am not using this space as it’s intended. My bad! Okay okay, real quick and then we’ll get into the announcements:
I’ll indicate the main Mausoleum with a capital M, since there are other, smaller, mausoleums on the grounds. Actually, I think I’ll just capitalize Big Important Things like the Labyrinth and the Break Room. I dunno about the green mist, though. Fuck that place, it can stay lower case.
Huh, I think that’s it, actually. That’s an editorial thing, right?
Oh, one more thing. If you have no idea what any of this is about, I invite you to read all about my first night on the job. We can learn the vibe of this place together:
Alright! Announcements, news, and other things like that:
SPECIAL EVENTS
Last issue, I mentioned the south rotunda was available for booking for events. Well, the response was overwhelming, and the south rotunda is now booked solid for a year. Management has asked me to inform everyone that there is now a wait list. I hate to say it, but the Events Coordinator is crooked as fuck and takes bribes, so if you can’t schmooze your way into a slot sooner, you can just buy your way onto the calendar.
Fair warning though: the Events Coordinator does not accept money. Being eldritch, they deal only in contracts. Favors, first borns, that sort of thing. I wouldn’t be surprised if the Coordinator is in cahoots with the Proprietor of the Calamity’s gift shop, the Odds ‘n’ Endings Boutique. I hear stories about that place and it makes me wonder …
BUT I don’t get paid to wonder! I get paid to keep the grounds and run this newsletter, so that’s what I’m doing!
Anywho, that’s it for whatever’s newsworthy. There’s not a lot going on here that’s open to the public otherwise, so until they decide to run those guided tours they keep talking about, I don’t know what else I’ll be putting here.
Remember that yellow sticky note I mentioned above? Well, I didn’t touch it, and it was gone the next day when I came back to work. Which is ironic because I brought my hoodie to work specifically to explore the Labyrinth, and left my hoodie at home the following night because I was afraid I’d find another note just like the yellow sticky and end up staying away from the Mausoleum again.
There was no note that night, though. I was a little bummed I wouldn’t be starting my exploration, and I wasn’t about to head down there without a hoodie when I had the option not to, so I didn’t. I cleaned everything up and left the Labyrinth alone, committing to bringing my hoodie and heading down there the next night.
And guess what happened the next night? That’s right, another sticky note. This time it was green, and it said “Beware the Riddle of the Sphinx.” I may be pretty stupid and slow, but I have read my Greek mythology and knew the answer to the riddle, so I thought I’d be alright.
It turns out, I was not alright.
In the old myth, the answer to riddle is “man.” I thought I had this in the bag. I managed the grounds as usual, clearing the bouquets, sweeping and dusting the Mausoleum, etc etc. When I finished all the usual mundane shit, I grabbed my hoodie and marched my way to the elevator at the center of the Mausoleum. Planted right in front of it was the Sphinx.
Where she came from and how she got there, I have no idea. She wasn’t fucking there when I swept and dusted earlier. We both just kind of stared at each other in curiosity for a moment as I approached. I stopped when I was sure she wouldn’t just up and leave. That’s when she spoke up.
Continued below the break.
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The gift of time is, for many, an incredible gift indeed. Unless, of course, it is not a gift at all and arrives with a cost in excess of what one may be willing to pay …A tale from the Odds ‘n’ Endings Boutique.
“Hi there!”
I don’t know what I expected, but I did not expect her to be so, well, friendly.
I said hi back and explained that I needed to get to the elevator. She tilted her head and raised an eyebrow.
“Do you neeeed to get to the elevator?”
I started to answer, but then stopped. Was this the riddle? Or was she just asking a simple question? It didn’t seem like a riddle, but her expression made me think otherwise, as if I wasn’t allowed to use the elevator. Thinking it might be safest, I told her that no, I did not neeeed to use the elevator but that in using it, I might get better at doing my job when I did what I planned to do at the bottom. She straightened her head and took on that same friendly demeanor she started with.
“How fun!” She drummed her—paws?—on the ground in excitement. “Since you don’t neeeed to use the elevator, surely you have time for a game? Your mother had three children; they are Lock, Stock, and …”
My mother didn’t have three children, did she? Does the Sphinx know something about my mother that I don’t? Why would—oh. Oh right. Riddle. Hmm. Well, I don’t think the answer is "man” in this case. So, maybe I am out of luck with the limited knowledge I have on the topic of Sphinxes and their riddles. After a moment, I figure it out. This is easy! I tell her I’m the answer. Again, she drums her paws. Lions have paws, right? I’m going with paws.
“Oh well done! This is so much fun. Okay, next one: when is a queen not a queen?”
For some reason, I always thought riddles were long drawn out things that made you think really hard about all of the pieces of the puzzle, so this confused me. Were these actual riddles? Whatever, she seems to be having fun and I’m not about to correct her, especially when I don’t really know much about riddles myself.
But also, I don’t know the answer to this one. “Man” also seems like it doesn’t work here. When is a queen not a queen? When she’s a man? Yeah, no, that’s not right. I tell her I don’t know.
Suddenly, it gets colder in the Mausoleum, a place that is always so absolutely frigid to begin with. Her happy expression disappears, replaced by an angry one, and her eyes light up with bonfires, with dense black smoke pouring from them, rising to the ceiling. On the one hand, I’m kind of grateful because the heat feels great against the cold. On the other hand though, I might die. I stumble backwards as she says,
“Fool. You spent no time in consideration.” She gets up and begins to paw forward, slow and deliberate. “I should eat you where you lie, you worm.”
I make a mad scramble to get away. I turn around and fumble as I try to stand up. Once I’m on my feet, my running for the doors as a great big roar fills the Mausoleum. The building quakes all around me as I dash out the door and spill onto the asphalt just outside. I get up and look through the glass to see her calmly sitting in front of the elevator, a small dot in the great distance from the doors to the center of the building.
I let out a long slow exhale and make my way back to the employee hall. I think I need to figure out the answer before I attempt to go back.
That’s it for now! Thanks for reading. I’ll see you next week!
Hello! This is Mad Alex, Ringmaster Extraordinaire of the Carnival of Calamity. You would think when faced with a riddle, one would stop and, well, think, no? It seems our Groundskeeper may be lacking in that department. I cannot say they are lacking for effort though—the Necropolis is besieged by all manner of paranormal beings, objects, portals, and occurrences, and our dear Groundskeeper has managed to survive it all this long.
They even managed to escape being eaten by the Sphinx, interestingly enough.
I digress. I did not come to criticize, but rather to promote. Have you signed up for your free Backstage Pass? The Backstage Pass is your ticket to preview all that we’re creating here at the Calamity! You can read all of the Groundskeeper’s first night shenanigans in Volume I, and we’ve just started not one, but two! brand new narratives with Bus Driver and A Vampire’s Vengeance in Volume II.
Come along for the ride, why don’t you? And invite a friend. Terror and misery is always more fun … with company.
I get it, filling out surveys isn’t everyone’s thing, but you’d be doing me a solid if you let me know how I’m doing. With the Gazette getting started and all, this could be a really great time for me to figure out how to really nail it! But I can only do that if I know what you’re looking for. So what do ya say? Pretty please?
