Holder of the Memorial

In any city, in any country, go to any mental institution or halfway house you can get yourself to. When you reach the front desk, ask to visit the grieving. If the receptionist becomes sullen and says she is grieving, you are in the right place.

Walk out the building and down the street. You will pass a street side memorial. Do not talk to these people, for they have a infectious suicidal sadness among them. If one does speak to you say "I'm just passing through, I don't wish to talk." Keep walking or you will never leave.

A bum will approach you. He panhandles with a white mug with the words "Greatest Dad." Give him everything you have. If you refuse, he will grab your arm and beg you. If he grabs your arm, it will be so painful you may forsake your arm and tear it off by whatever means. Whether you still have your arm or not, you may continue down the street.

Keep your eyes down. It may take minutes or hours, but if night turns to day or day turns to night, you have not lost enough in the eyes of the Holder and will never find him. However if you come to a bouquet of flowers tossed in the gutter, stop and look at them. Do not turn your head and a man will come to your side.

Ask one question: "What have they lost?"

The man will answer you in a hoarse and guttural voice, and tell you a story about a band of Seekers who were closer than brothers. Their quest lead them down the most cruel path of betrayal, death, and madness. The families they left behind, lovers that were separated, and brothers killed in bloody duels.

Do not cry or the Holder will stop and walk away. Your tears will freeze. The frostbite will burn the skin off your face.

Do not turn your head before the voice finishes or you will see the stump that was once the Holder's head. Nothing but his jaw and tongue remain. You will scream. And once you scream you are lost. The Holder will grab you and bash your head on the ground 'til it cracks open.

Remain composed and the Holder will whisper in your ear the secret of what you will lose. He will leave you still looking at the flowers. You may take them if you wish.

The bouquet was once an Object. Now they are just some flowers to comfort the grieving.

Credited to Poe