Faceless
Content Warning: This text adventure contains themes of horror, psychological distress, and mature content. Each article may include vivid descriptions and elements that could evoke strong emotional responses. Reader discretion is advised.
As you merge yourself with the crowd that walks through a narrow, dimly lit path, an unsettling sense of unease torments you. The light that guides your way is pale and flickering, emanating from a stage near the ominous black clock. Shadows dance around you in a deliberate pattern, serving as a warning of the dangers lurking just beyond the reach of illumination. It feels almost instinctual to stay within the confines of this fragile path, for the surrounding darkness seems alive; alien and threatening, ready to swallow you whole.
As you draw closer to the stage, the atmosphere thrums with the crowd’s anticipation, a palpable energy that heightens your senses. You’ve arrived before one of the circus' performers, yet for a fleeting moment, you wonder if what you see is merely a trick of the light. But it isn’t.
What you see on this stage is unimaginable, yet undeniably real. Before you stands a creature that takes the form of a man, but it cannot truly be a man; it is something far more monstrous. The aberration looms at the center of the stage, beckoning you closer with an unsettling stillness.
This is a puppet- an enormous, grotesque amalgamation of mismatched body parts stitched together with carelessly knotted threads. Its arms are elongated, swinging loosely from a torso that seems all too small, while its legs- one thin and lithe, the other thick and gnarled- bend at unnatural angles. A diminutive head, alarmingly disproportionate to its body, perches atop a thick neck swollen with veins, each thread of red glistening ominously. And the face... oh, the face is a haunting tableau: decaying skin, a broken nose, and four different sets of eyes scattered haphazardly across the forehead, staring blankly into the void. Its mouth, a grotesque chasm filled with mismatched teeth, drools a viscous fluid that pools on the ground below.
As you struggle to swallow your shock and revulsion, your gaze is drawn to the strings that bind it. Thick as ropes yet nearly invisible in the dim light, they are cruelly embedded in the puppet’s flesh; two from each hand, two from each leg, and one threaded through its neck, stretching upwards into the shadows. Yet, there is no puppeteer or at least no one you can see.
Then, without warning, the light is snuffed out, plunging the scene into darkness. A collective, synchronized scream erupts from the crowd, mingling with your own in a cacophony of terror. Moments later, a sickening crack echoes from the stage, reverberating in your bones as the puppet's head rises slowly, turning to survey the audience with its grotesque, vacant gaze.
With a voice that feels foreign and disembodied- like a doll controlled by an unseen ventriloquist-the creature speaks. "Silence..." it commands, its empty eyes fixed into the void, as if seeking something beyond your comprehension. "I am Faceless, and tonight we will play a game."As dread clings to the air, you feel an overwhelming urge to either flee from the horror before you or stay and face the unknown.
What do you do?
Important Note: For better immersion, avoid reading the rest of this article.
Faceless says...
“The game is simple,” the creature intones, its voice disembodied and echoing from its grotesque, sealed mouth. “We will play, Faceless says... Whatever I say, you must do. Fail, and the consequences could be dire. Shall we begin?”
An uneasy sensation washes over you as the stage lights dim further, plunging the area into shadows. Faceless’s form is terrifying, shrouded in darkness, but it is the unsettling quality of its voice that truly unnerves you. It resonates around you, intertwining with your thoughts as it issues its first command. “Faceless says... raise your hand.” Do you obey?As you watch the performance unfold, the atmosphere becomes charged with an unsettling energy. Faceless continues issuing commands, his voice weaving through the air like a serpent. The audience around you seems entranced, their movements synchronized as they follow his every word. You can't help but feel a sense of detachment, caught between the thrill of the spectacle and the growing tension in your gut. You notice some hesitant participants, those who briefly pause before complying, but the majority succumb to the strange allure of the commands.
"Faceless says... take a step forward", it commands with a casual, yet demanding tone. A ripple of movement sweeps through the crowd, and you find yourself subconsciously drawn closer to the stage, your feet almost moving on their own.
Do you obey?The spectators leap into the air, laughter erupting from their lips as they momentarily cast aside the unsettling atmosphere. Joy collides with the chilling orders and the darkness of the carnival, creating an unstable mixture of emotions that swirls around you. Each command Faceless gives builds upon the last, weaving a rhythm of compliance that tugs at the edges of your willpower.
“Faceless says... sing.”
A cacophony of voices erupts, each one distinct, each rhythm and lyric jumbled together in a chaotic symphony. Faceless bounces in place, its strings tightening upward, as if reveling in the success of its performance. Then, just as suddenly as the merriment began...
“Faceless says... BOW!”
Its booming voice pierces the silence, a final command that reverberates in your mind, filling you with dread and uncertainty.
Do you obey?You feel an overwhelming force clenching your mind from within, stretching your thoughts toward compliance. Your body trembles as you struggle against the insistent urge to bow before this nightmarish abomination. Sweat blurs your vision, and blood drips from your ears and nose as pressure releases. The world around you warps, distorting the faces of the spectators, their expressions twisted in panic. Despite the agony pulsing through your veins, you manage to hold your ground, fueled by a desperate determination to resist. But the malevolent energy surrounding you grows stronger, suffocating your will and darkening your resolve.
You look around, only to see you are the last one still standing. Everyone else is on their knees, strings beginning to form on their arms, legs, and necks. You are the only one left amidst an army of human puppets. The light on the stage dims, then focuses solely on you. Faceless' attention is now fixed on you, and it looks mesmerized. You see the strings that tie it dissolve into thin air, and the creature jumps off the stage. But instead of growing larger as it approaches, it shrinks until, in the end, standing before you is a woman—tired and frail, yet beautiful. She raises her hand and gently touches your face; her touch is softer than a cloud.
"Congratulations. It has been far too long since someone dared to defy the puppet master's will,"she says, her voice firm yet distant. "I am Nera, the bride of our Ringmaster from a time he was still mortal. You saw what his manipulation did to me, but you... you can still escape. You know how to preserve yourfreedom. Don't let them steal it from you."
With these words, Nera disappears. The spectators rise and with their strings as guide they start to walk in unison. You don't have time to check where they are going though. The clock is ticking and to leave this place you need to press forward. You are ready to meet the next performer,
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