The steeple stretches up toward the black sky, a beacon in the night. Beyond, rooftops can’t quite focus, stacked in all directions over each other, deflecting your gaze back to the lit windows. The world is a complicated, convoluted place – but the building before you doesn’t reassure you. Its glow is inviting, but there’s not much to see inside.
Upright
Through one door, come distant sounds – voices in a joyous choir. A strange, aggressive undertone comes out, the more you listen. Unsure of the words, but letting the emotion wash over you, dampened by the heavy doors but so forceful it seems to creep out through even the slight gap at the floor. If you open this door, there’s so much beyond. So much that could help, but so much that may only pretend to help. Then another sound, more felt than heard – someone approaches the door.
Reversed
A shape distorts the glow from inside – someone stands there, waiting. You could open the door. You could take the first step, all on your own, and see what’s inside. The choice is all yours. However, the more you look at the off-glow shape, the more you feel eyes on you. They’re waiting for you to grab ahold of the handle, watching. Their eyes aren’t clear, but you still feel them, and they’re getting sharper by the moment. What could they really do, they and that strange, aggressive choir? And still, there’s a strange, aggressive, silent demand. Open the door. I won’t do it for you. Instead, you back away, guiding yourself slowly down the stairs.
All illustrations and text copyrighted from The Liminal Deck.
Prints, deck, and physical media guidebooks available on Whiskey Terra Foxtrot
Back to {The Liminal Guide}
