Welcome back, folks, to the Snore-de-Bliss Show! Where we knock back some gin-n'-schnaps, try to relax and listen to duop pretty much every second of the week. Maybe not that last part (personally, I find some of those songs to be exhilarating - those croons are brimming with soul, with FUNK!), but nonetheless, we're all buddies here! On the last episode, I left you folks for a second to go decode a couple of passwords in order to rifle through the contents of some super-duper top secret Malevolent Corporate Computer Folders (tm), and didn't return for a few days (I took a bit longer than that, actually: more like a couple of weeks!). It took me quite a while to rummage through all those files, longer than I expected, but breaking the code provided a wellspring of critical information I need to relay to you listeners, and a chance to vacation for my weary bones!
I'd like to take this interlude before we plunge into plumbing the depths of darkness that obfuscate the true purpose of the entity known as Dimlight to remind you folks that I don't do this merely to eloquently express myself. This is most definitely a program that incorporates and values its audiences' opinions and thoughts, whether positive or negative, controversial or mainstream, drool or coherent, so chime in at any time and feel free to tell me I'm a dumbass. I won't whoop your sorry self that badly. I mean, it'll be one hell of a beatdown, but you'll probably walk away with most of your bones still resting in their sockets, and you gotta look on the bright side, right?
I kid, I kid. But it's time to BOOGIE DOWN like KRS-ONE and ROCK L.A. like DJ Scott!
So, the first couple of files revealed some extraordinarily interesting entries. They seem to be the logs of paranormal investigation team tasked with analyzing the "psycho-spiritual anomaly" residing in the minds of a select number of construction workers constructing the locales Dimlight used as fronts for their seedier activities. From the looks of the business records included with the reports, Dimlight makes intensive use of, shall we say, under-the-radar employment opportunities for those without all their cards in order, and provides economical shelter to large immigrant communities with a less than reputable standing in the eyes of the Department of Homeland Security. These problems in the employee pool not only matched perfectly with the types of entities the corporation just needed to snatch up in its grubby paws, they also could be roped into the budget as "counseling and psychological care" in order to be kept conveniently out of the eyes of the Illinois police force.
Oh, I'm getting ahead of myself. We should first discuss the dichotomy of Dimlight, that is, the contrast between its legitimate modes of business and its shady deals with the (sometimes literal) underworld upon which humankind's foundation rests. To address the first issue: Dimlight models itself after a construction business, presumably to cut down the costs of assembling their laboratories and assuage those folks who are suspicions or catch a hint of their less respectable experiments. They ship from facilities all across the world to locations in need of raw materials; and, what a surprise, the crews always manage to arrive just as the supplies do! It's an nearly airtight cover, that's for certain - about as close to a closed system as you can possible get economically. They only spend a couple of hundred million dollars on actually putting out new work for the general public, or taking contracts from a group which doesn't consist of a bunch of individuals on their payroll.
And what horrors lurk under this cloak of a legitimate business?
That's still for me to determine. But you must believe me, there is something about this conglomerate that is not appropriate, not jivin' with the ebb and tide of life's little nudges. I know, because of a trip to Illinois I took in these last few weeks. Suffice to say that it ended with me, a couple of friends of mine, and a branch of the Illinois SWAT team breaching a hardened, top-secret Dimlight facility devoted to...well, I don't know what paranormal subject in general those fuckers dedicated their time towards researching. But I did break into a mystically warded section of the building (whose security really left something to be desired in this mortal crook), and conducted my own ancillary research while the raid commenced a ways upward.
I'm not going to go on describing the details of the place. It's not important, and I can barely remember much, besides it being somewhat dry and slightly sticky all over. But, as I am alive and well typing in my car, I can reveal my new found knowledge.
The Obelisk? It isn't an isolated, singular paranormal entity. It's a whole god damn extradimensional plane of existence.
Guess where its focal point is located? Four hundred miles off from the town of El Paso, Mexico. The Dead Zone, they call it. Well, won't be dead for too longer - I'm goin' on a road trip.