Silas Thorne's Sixty-Six Pipes of Sin

Unearthed just 13 years ago, was a book written by an author under the surname "A.G. Wraith." To date, it is the only one of it's kind, and believed to be the only copy ever created. This book describes the story of The Aethelgard & Thorne Grand Circus as told by what few people ever survived the horror. All other survivors were useless in telling any stories, as they were never the same since the day they emerged from "The Fourth Ring" with vacant, reflective silver eyes and suffer amnesia of the ash. Below is what could be translated from the Foreword of the book.

FOREWORD

To the Reader:

If you have purchased this volume seeking cheap thrills or a distraction from the breadlines and the dust, I implore you to close it now. Throw it into the fire. Watch the ink curl and blacken. It is safer that way.

The publishers have categorized this account as "Dark Fantasy." They have placed it on the shelf alongside the penny dreadfuls and the ghost stories of Mr. Lovecraft. They tell you that Silas Thorne is a figment of a fevered imagination, and that the Aethelgard & Thorne Grand Circus is nothing more than ink on paper.

They are lying to you. And, God help them, they are lying to themselves.

I wrote this account not to entertain, but to document. I was there in October of 1934, outside the township of Blackwood, Nebraska. I stood in the knee-deep ash that pretended to be snow. I saw the lights that were not electric, and I heard the music that made my own teeth vibrate in their sockets.

I am one of the few who walked away from that field with my mind intact, though my soul feels... lighter than it should. I write this under a pseudonym, for if I were to use my true name, He might find me. He might realize that one of his "audience" has broken the silence.

There are rules contained within these chapters. Rules about shadows that detach themselves from your feet. Rules about the taste of copper in your mouth when the wind changes. Rules about the music.

If you choose to read on, know this: The circus does not travel by road or rail. It travels by invitation. By reading these words, by letting the geometry of the Fourth Ring into your mind, you are printing your own ticket.

Should you ever wake in the night to the sound of a steam whistle and the smell of ozone and rotting velvet, do not look out your window.

Do not count your change.

Do not listen to the pipes.

And for the love of God, do not let them see you cry.

— A.G. Wraith

Chicago, Illinois

December 24th, 1934

Next: The Fourth Ring Origins