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RiddleBox
Time flows like a dark horde, consuming all in its path.
Man lives his life in the blink of an eye. Just as day becomes night,
all life fades into death. In death, each person will be judged for his
deeds performed while alive. There are the few who walk the path of
greed, their souls host to demons. Time slows near each person's end,
as those whose deeds were evil grasp onto life as long as they can.
Though they don't know what awaits them in the afterlife, they do know
for them it is a horror beyond words. Time stops in this world, as
the heart becomes still and the soul leaves the body. Time is eternal
and even in death it is but a new beginning. For you see, when you
step into death, your soul steps upon the floor of a dark chamber and
you look to see it empty, except for a strange looking box on an old
wooden table. On the front of the box, you will see a question mark
faded with time and a twisted crank handle on its side. As you turn
the handle, a sharp melodic tune will fill the air with a deafening
noise of terror. The surprise comes when the music stops and the top
of the box pops open and its contents are revealed. For the few, they
will see a vision of God granting them eternal peace, with a wash of
golden light warming their soul. The rest will see an image of hell,
spawned and formed from their own evil; a reflection of their soul
with fog seeping from the box, stripping their sanity. What will be
in store for you is the mystery, but if you take a look within
yourself, you will find the answer. For now, you still have time to
change the outcome of the mighty Riddle Box.
The GreatMilenko
From deep within the Netherworld of shadow walkers comes yet another
exhibit of the Dark Carnival. He is the master of the art of using
magic without magic... He is a Necromancer... the craft of using magi
c through the dead. Dead meaning both physically and mentally. This
spectacle shall be witnessed only by those who are meant to see it.
Look deep inside of your soul and ask yourself... Do you hold a ticket
to witness the show? The answer lies within yourself. He is the fourth
to rise. He feeds upon one's own greed. He is powered by one's own
jealousy, lust, and temptation. To envision yourself with something
that rightfully does not belong to you... that is the illusion cast
by him. To act upon this vision and seek it out at the expense of
another... that is the magic cast by him. Continuos dreamers of
profit at the cost of another are pledfed and haunted by his wizardry.
Others are content and satisfied with what they can achieve by
themselves and have not the urge to tamper with another's well being
for quick gain. They see him only as a hoax and see no illusions or
magic by he. It is simple... He is you. His illusions are your evil
thoughts. Your evil acts are his magic - yesterday., now, and forever.
You are he and the fourth to rise... You and he are the master of
Necromancy... You are the dead and him the magic.
Together, you and he are The Great Milenko.
Jake Jeckel
His glow of compassion kindles the heart, like a campfire on a cold
winters eve. His embers burn eternally, spreading the flame of
mercy like a warm blanket over the shoulders of a vagabond. His
kindness is fueled by sympathy for human suffering, but his inferno
of righteous cause, incinerates creatures of sin to ash. The torch
of his salvation guides wanderers in the dark abyss to freedom. Its
flaring sparks float on the winds of change, like soaring birds
recently freed from a dreary cage. Laughter explodes forth from the
essence of his being, radiating the land with childish joy. He has
many names, but for now let it be spoken like melodic music drifting
through the air. He's Jake, true indeed... Jake Jeckel.
Jack Jeckel
His evil influence flows from the city streets like red molten ooze,
filling every alley and gutter. There are those who are burnt by it,
like the charred remains of a napalm strike. He moves in silence,
yet with his heat comes ear-shattering screams as the masses are
scorched in his choking smoke of corruption. His fire consumes l
ike a lethal injection flowing through the veins of a dying convict.
Hosts of small red ants crawl in the wake of his presence, biting and
stinging flesh. His holocaust fills the woods of hope and prosperity
like a wave of hungry piranhas on a newborn lamb. He goes by many
names, but for now let it be spoken like the force of a fireball
bursting into a crowd. He's Jack, pure and simple... Jack Jeckel.
The Jeckel Brothers
Emerging from the Dark Carnival like phantom smoke drifting into the
minds of men, they are the Amazing Jeckel Brothers. A chaotic duo of
juggling masters, Jack "the sinister" and Jake "the just" juggle the
sins of mortal men. The price of admission to their show is a
mere human soul.
When death creeps round and life decays, the departed spirit will
begin its journey. A vision of a candle will begin to form like a
distant dream with billowing smoke rising from its eternal flame.
In this thick haze the deceased will begin to see an image of Jake
and Jack Jeckel juggling red balls between themselves. Each ball
soaked in fresh blood and pulsating like an erratic living heart.
For every sin committed in a mortal's life another ball is added to
their unearthly performance and the harder it becomes. The deceased
will witness sinister Jack throwing Jake curves in a vile attempt to
see a ball drop. For if they should fumble in their act, a pit of
infinite evil shall open beneath the feet of the viewer and cast the
soul into an eternity of pain and suffering. Success on the other
hand, opens the gates of Shangri-La and grants one ascension into
pure enlightenment and peace.
Jack and Jake Jeckel rest in all of us for they are they very fabric
of our being conscience and soul. There is no escape from their
Juggling act because there is no way to escape from ourselves.
Only in death will we realize this as we twist and spin to the
other side.
The Wraith
A presence can be felt by those who have followed thy saga as told by the Insane Clown Posse. It is a presence that is synonymous with thy crumbling of time itself. Thus emerges a being so powerful that he can exist between both the land of the living, and that of the dead. He goes by many names but is known to thy living only as the Wraith. He walks upon worlds forgotten, and descends from Heavens; fade into gray to witness thy death of all mortal things, so that he may guide thy departed upon thy path that they have chosen. Only now will we truly understand thy meaning of thy saga, for this saga all along, each Jokers Card, is actually none other than... thy echo of our lives.
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