The mournful wail cascades over you like a wave of death. The specter - a ghostly image of a woman long since murdered - is beyond any hope of a peaceful afterlife. She seeks only vengeance, so that others might join her in purgatorial restlessness. You've killed for her once before and now, facing the full power of her undying gaze - black as the endless abyss - you're ready to do it again. Guest and staff alike fall by your hand until you collapse on the floor, soaked in the blood of innocents.

The locket rests in your open hand and you consider it now, standing in the sudden silence of the hotel. It seems such a simple thing, but this memento of dark events had a hand in the turmoils of the Excelsior, despite its unassuming appearance. You slide it into your pocket and turn toward the door, breathing a bit easier. You find some measure of comfort in knowing that the strange goings-on of the Excelsior have been put to rest, at least for now.

You clutch the device in your hands when it suddenly begins to hum and vibrate, its core glowing with a searing, pale-green light. You feel your head throb, a drop of blood rolling down from your nose. You're too late. You were unable to stop the Mi-Go threat before the device reached full power. Now, as you feel your grasp on reality begin to fade, you wonder what the alien meddler will force you - and everyone else in the Excelsior - to do next. Your mind is now clutched firmly in its grasp.

The alien device hums and pulses for a few more moments, before finally going silent. It rests in your hands, cold and still, seemingly an unassuming trinket once more. You breathe a bit easier and find some measure of comfort in knowing that the strange goings-on of the Excelsior have been put to rest, at least for now.

With each person it consumes, the creature grows in power. Guests brush past you toward it, shambling along mindlessly like lambs to the slaughter. The sound of its amorphous form gorging itself on innocents fills your ears. You try reasoning with them, but they ignore you. You try holding them back, but the creatures posing as hotel security beat you back. You fall to the floor, all hope utterly lost... Then you hear it. A single voice, whispering in your head. It coaxes you, beckons you. You slowly stand, and march toward your fate.

You stand in the lobby of the hotel, the building suddenly silent and seemingly empty. As you survey the results of your work, you glance down at the key in your hand. Such a simple object, yet you still feel a shiver of dread slide down your spine, knowing what once held this key. You are able to find some measure of comfort in knowing that the strange goings-on of the Excelsior have been put to rest, at least for now.

You clutch the device in your hands when it suddenly begins to hum and vibrate, its core glowing with a searing, pale-green light. You feel your head throb, a drop of blood rolling down from your nose. You're too late. You were unable to stop the Mi-Go threat before the device reached full power. Now, as you feel your grasp on reality begin to fade, you wonder what the alien meddler will force you - and everyone else in the Excelsior - to do next. Your mind is now clutched firmly in its grasp.

The alien device hums and pulses for a few more moments, before finally going silent. It rests in your hands, cold and still, seemingly an unassuming trinket once more. You breathe a bit easier and find some measure of comfort in knowing that the strange goings-on of the Excelsior have been put to rest, at least for now.

The mournful wail cascades over you like a wave of death. The specter - a ghostly image of a woman long since murdered - is beyond any hope of a peaceful afterlife. She seeks only vengeance, so that others might join her in purgatorial restlessness. You've killed for her once before and now, facing the full power of her undying gaze - black as the endless abyss - you're ready to do it again. Guest and staff alike fall by your hand until you collapse on the floor, soaked in the blood of innocents.

The locket rests in your open hand and you consider it now, standing in the sudden silence of the hotel. It seems such a simple thing, but this memento of dark events had a hand in the turmoils of the Excelsior, despite its unassuming appearance. You slide it into your pocket and turn toward the door, breathing a bit easier. You find some measure of comfort in knowing that the strange goings-on of the Excelsior have been put to rest, at least for now.

With each person it consumes, the creature grows in power. Guests brush past you toward it, shambling along mindlessly like lambs to the slaughter. The sound of its amorphous form gorging itself on innocents fills your ears. You try reasoning with them, but they ignore you. You try holding them back, but the creatures posing as hotel security beat you back. You fall to the floor, all hope utterly lost... Then you hear it. A single voice, whispering in your head. It coaxes you, beckons you. You slowly stand, and march toward your fate.

You stand in the lobby of the hotel, the building suddenly silent and seemingly empty. As you survey the results of your work, you glance down at the key in your hand. Such a simple object, yet you still feel a shiver of dread slide down your spine, knowing what once held this key. You are able to find some measure of comfort in knowing that the strange goings-on of the Excelsior have been put to rest, at least for now.

They are all around you, in every room, in every hall, and their voices chant as one. You have their book, but it doesn't matter - not anymore. Their ritual has gone on too long, and gained too much power. The tome burns in your hands, its leather cover searing your skin, but you cling to it regardless. You feel it pulse, as if a heart were beating between its pages. Looking down to it, you realize it is the only way to survive this nightmare. You open the tome, find the page of the ritual, and add your voice to the endless chorus.

The book is closed now, and as you fasten the latch and tuck it under your arm, you hope and pray that you can keen it safe and that it will never be opened again. You know firsthand that only madness lies within its weathered pages, and it is now up to you to protect it from falling into the wrong hands. You breathe a bit easier and find some measure of comfort in knowing that the strange goings-on of the Excelsior have been put to rest, at least for now.

Everywhere you go, you can feel its piercing awareness in your mind. It is too powerful for you to resist. You can feel it as it watches your every move, listens to your every thought, and tastes your every fear. It picks at your nerves, as if its cold, dark fingers were digging through your cerebrum. You look down to your own hands, and feel an unsettling thought growing in your mind. Your own body looks foreign to you, and with a grim finality your consciousness is thrust aside to make room for this new sentience.

You stand in the lobby of the hotel, the building suddenly silent and seemingly empty. You hold the bottle of the strange liquid up to the light and consider its contents again. Your eye twitches as it traces the swirling, churning green solution within, and you shudder as you wonder what other effects this concoction may hold. You slide the bottle into your pocket, finding some measure of comfort in knowing that the strange goings-on of the Excelsior have been put to rest, at least for now.

Everywhere you go, you can feel its piercing awareness in your mind. It is too powerful for you to resist. You can feel it as it watches your every move, listens to your every thought, and tastes your every fear. It picks at your nerves, as if its cold, dark fingers were digging through your cerebrum. You look down to your own hands, and feel an unsettling thought growing in your mind. Your own body looks foreign to you, and with a grim finality your consciousness is thrust aside to make room for this new sentience.

You stand in the lobby of the hotel, the building suddenly silent and seemingly empty. You hold the bottle of the strange liquid up to the light and consider its contents again. Your eye twitches as it traces the swirling, churning green solution within, and you shudder as you wonder what other effects this concoction may hold. You slide the bottle into your pocket, finding some measure of comfort in knowing that the strange goings-on of the Excelsior have been put to rest, at least for now.

They are all around you, in every room, in every hall, and their voices chant as one. You have their book, but it doesn't matter - not anymore. Their ritual has gone on too long, and gained too much power. The tome burns in your hands, its leather cover searing your skin, but you cling to it regardless. You feel it pulse, as if a heart were beating between its pages. Looking down to it, you realize it is the only way to survive this nightmare. You open the tome, find the page of the ritual, and add your voice to the endless chorus.

The book is closed now, and as you fasten the latch and tuck it under your arm, you hope and pray that you can keen it safe and that it will never be opened again. You know firsthand that only madness lies within its weathered pages, and it is now up to you to protect it from falling into the wrong hands. You breathe a bit easier and find some measure of comfort in knowing that the strange goings-on of the Excelsior have been put to rest, at least for now.