"I don't know what sort of message to convey to all you reading this, honestly. Is there a moral that can be applied to this excursion? Some sort of aesop, hobbled together from cut-up quotes and jumbled sentence structures? I can't impart too much, that's for certain - It has kept me alive for one reason, and that's to chronicle our group's funny journey down the rabbit hole in a suitably enigmatic and preferably ominous manner. The first thing I can tell you without fear is that one of your own has been taken by It if these words are flitting past your retinas...and he's gone. Even if he returns, even if he (or she, this is no time for misogyny) suddenly pops back into the real world, scarred and bruised, battered and broken, he (or she) is gone. Because I know we're all gone, even though every day, I rouse myself from my slumber, trot over to the bathroom, wash myself down, and go to splash water on my face. And every time I look up into the mirror after that liquid drains away all the obscuring details I see It, eye to eye with me, a never-ending grin that isn't really there plastered all over Its expansive, eternal features. The soot cakes my toes again; a familiar dryness takes residence in my lips; and no matter how long I scream or lash out Its gaze never wavers, not even for a moment; it stays latched upon me forever. It always will."