Rain pelts the area, drenching all that it touches. I stare up at a house that costs more money than my family has ever seen. Will ever see.

A peel of lightning shows more and more of it. A ramshackle building, oppressing the land with it’s presence. I continue through the rain, knocking against the heavy door.

It peels open, a small man standing there, beckoning me in with crooked fingers. He glances at the sky once I am in, and a slam of the door encapsulates the lights.

“Do you have it?” he grunts, and leaves, without an answer.

“I… I’m here for something called the Howdying?”

No answer. Just more lightning. A laugh comes from above me, and I climb the stairs to an impossible height.

As I turn the corner, the sight of a sheet and many beakers shakes my core. I don’t know what I’m into…