A Tale of Woe

Gather round, and hear of the end of days. On a dark and stormy night in Tokyo, men and women congregate at hidden temples to perform an inhuman ritual. They call this "karaoke".

The entrance is garishly light, bright, fluorescent. The young man behind the counter greets you politely, and asks how long you'd like to stay. The only answer worth giving is all night long. It is a long path down into the darkness. They take your tiny coven of seven or eight and lead you into a small cell, bare but for a long couch, a table, and the unholy altar. The altar is dark, silent, waiting. One the table is a great tome, thick and heavy, filled with instructions for acts unspeakable.

We order drinks by telephone. No other communication is possible through the soundproof walls, but these things require courage, however it may be found. Frightened still, I shy away from the hideous, rounded wand, and pass it to my neighbor. He takes it up, and the altar comes to life. Bright images display themselves, illogical and senseless. Strange symbols appear on the altars face, and I realize they are words, but in a tongue I do not know, sounds I cannot speak. Time passes in a haze of alcohol and cigarette smoke.

Soon it is my turn to perpetrate this dark rite. I lift the microphone, and thunder rumbles in the distance. I thumb the power on, and darkness covers the heavens. In the distance, through the soundproof walls, I hear the shrieks of frightened children. On the altar's face words appear, and I am bound by their awful magic. Hell itself covers its ears and shields itself.

I sing.

I sing and Hati himself howls with me, chasing the moon. The air grows cold and the earth begins to shake. There is a crash, as of chains snapping, and three cocks crow. The ground trembles beneath the tread of heavy steps, and the great wolf and his brother, the serpent, rise from their prisons. The wolf breathes hot fire, and the serpent's poison runs in rivers through the streets below. The earth opens and the dead walk from below to overrun the world of the living. A great horn sounds, and a hooded man leads a shining army from the seat of an eight-legged horse to push back the dead. His spear snaps in the great wolf's jaws, and his golden army falls beneath the endless hordes of walking dead. A sword of fire, wielded from high in the heavens, sweeps down to burn the world, and everything it touches is wracked by flame and ruin. So ends the world of men, brought low by the harsh voices of the black magic called "karaoke".