These jokes are priceless. xD

Thanks for the giveaway, I'll go for

#1 The Witcher 3
#2 Day of the Tentacle

As for my scary joke, https://www.pcgamer.com/gaming-industry/steams-new-disclaimer-reminds-everyone-that-you-dont-actually-own-your-games-gog-moves-in-for-the-killshot-its-offline-installers-cannot-be-taken-away-from-you/
If only it were a joke

⚠️ Warning: Pediophobia Alert ⚠️

If you have a fear of dolls (pediophobia), you might want to skip this story. It features some unsettling doll-related content that could trigger anxiety or discomfort for those sensitive to the subject.

Proceed with caution—or maybe don’t proceed at all if dolls give you the creeps!

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The Creepy Doll

Emma had always hated the doll her grandmother gave her when she was little. It had wide, glassy eyes, a cracked porcelain face, and an unsettling smile that never seemed to fade. Emma stuffed it in the back of her closet, far from sight. But no matter how deep she buried it, she always felt like it was watching her.

One night, after years of ignoring the doll, she heard something strange. As she lay in bed, the faint sound of tiny footsteps echoed in the hallway. She sat up, heart pounding. The footsteps stopped right outside her door.

Then came the whisper:

"Emma..."

Terrified, she pulled the blanket over her head, pretending it wasn't happening. The voice came again, closer, like it was right next to her bed.

"Emma... I'm coming for you..."

She slowly peeked out from under the blanket and saw the doll standing on her nightstand, staring at her with those cold, lifeless eyes.

Frozen in fear, Emma stammered, "W-what do you want?!"

The doll slowly turned its head, its cracked lips parting as it said:

"I need... your phone charger. Seriously, I'm at 1%."

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Thank you bjgamer for the giveaway opportunity and to the other donors.
I seek a Key to the following realms:
> Hellblade: Senua's Sacrifice
> Little Nightmares
> SKALD: Against the Black Priory
> Tainted Grail: Conquest
> The Suffering + The Suffering: Ties That Bind
> Gibbous - A Cthulhu Adventure Deluxe Edition
> Blackwell Epiphany
> DARQ: Complete Edition
> Darkwood
> Bad Dream: Coma + Bad Dream: Fever

The Drosoulites of Frangokastello

Frangokastello (from the Italian terms Franco, meaning "free", and Castello, meaning "castle") is a Venetian medieval castle located on the southern coast of Crete. The Venetian name of the castle was St. Nikitas. However, the name Frangokastello, given to it by the local population, prevailed, meaning the castle of the Franks.

The Drosoulites appear on the beach of Frangokastello in the last days of May and the first days of June, before or at sunrise, as anthropomorphic shadows, dressed in black, on foot or on horseback, carrying weapons, and move in a single line for about ten minutes, from the ruined church of St. Charalambos towards Frangokastello and disappearing into the sea.

Always at the same time of the year, always at the same time of the day, always for about ten minutes. Some years the phenomenon is barely visible and some years it is... frighteningly intense.

They are called “drosulites”, a name given by the locals, because they appear only with the dew* of dawn.

The time of observation coincides with the time of the deadly battle of the Greek Corps (a small force of 600 infantry and 100 cavalry) against the Ottomans (8,000 infantry, 400 cavalry and six cannons) in 1828 at Frangokastello, and the locals say that the shadows that appear there, are the ghosts of the Greek soldiers.

According to tradition, the souls of those who die in battle and are left unburied, remain in the place where they were killed.
The bodies of the Greek soldiers remained unburied until strong wind carried sand from the dunes of the nearby beach of Orthi Ammos and covered them.

Some years after this terrible battle (at the end of it, 800 Turks were dead and over 350 on the Greek side), shortly after mid-May, some shepherds were surprised to see above the ruined church of St. Charalambos an entire army of armed, even mounted, shadows marching towards Frangokastello and from there into the sea.

It is said that in 1890 Turkish soldiers, who were in the plain around Fragokastello, fled in panic when they saw the Drosoulites.

Many years later, during the German occupation of Crete, a military detachment was confronted by the Drosoulites.
According to urban legend, they were so frightened that they both opened fire and failed to see the shadows disappearing into the deep blue water, so they assumed that the attackers had simply... ducked.


* The Greek word for “dew” is “drosia”, hence the name “drosulites”.


~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~

The Black Stone Street

The Black Stone Street is a small but extremely picturesque and atmospheric alleyway in Ano Poli (Thessaloniki).

In 1917, when the city burned down, a black stone was found at the bottom of a crater that opened with a big bang. The stone was made of iron and (probably) came from outer space. This disturbed the magnetic field of that part of the city and created a portal of temporal displacement. For years it went unnoticed, as there were no houses yet. When they were built and the alley formed, it was named Black Stone Street.

At this dead-end alley, every 15 days at midnight and for 15 minutes a gate opens. If you pass through it without noticing, you're screwed as you don't know where you are any more and you can't find an exit.

The unlucky ones trapped in this parallel universe will wander this alleyway for the rest of their lives.

In recent years, locals have often heard young people hanging out at their doors… just enjoying the scenery, or in search of the gate?

Thank you for the giveaway, I'm in for:

Tainted Grail: Conquest
Creaks Collector's Edition
Hellblade: Senua's Sacrifice
Blackwell Epiphany
SKALD: Against the Black Priory
Day of the Tentacle Remastered
Black Book
Darkwood
DARQ: Complete Edition
LIMBO

Two dead people came out of the grave to get some fresh air. Suddenly, they noticed a motorcycle.
- Let's take a ride!- says the first one.
- Ok - the other replies, but he runs somewhere. After the while he returns carrying a tombstone.
- What are you doing? - the first one shouts.
- What do you mean? I won't drive around the city without an ID.

What is the difference between an accident and a tragedy? An accident is when a mother-in-law falls into a well. Tragedy is then, when she falls in with the entire pension.

[Part I]

Halloween Story...

Long Joe reluctantly got up from the bench, looked sadly at the sailor from the Albatros crew sleeping under the table, and headed towards the exit of the tavern. Suddenly, his path was blocked by a nobleman dressed in black with a black Spanish beard, who looked at him piercingly with his coal-black eyes and spoke in a slight drawl of Spanish:
“Caballero Joe, the noble Don Alfonso de Salamanca de la Torre invites you to his table.”
Joe was so moved by the unexpected honor that he staggered on his feet. Fortunately, two broad-shouldered fellows with wide cutlasses on their belts, who accompanying the Spanish nobleman, quickly jumped up to the sailor and grabbed him by the arms and prevented him from falling; and then they carried him to a large table in the corner of the room. When the sailor was able to stand before Don Alfonso on his own, the Spanish nobleman dressed in black spoke again, served as host:
“You have the honor of being in the presence of Don Alfonso de la Torre, the invincible captain of the Floridablanca” as he said this, he pointed to a portly man sitting behind a table on a golden throne “who, having sacked the galleon Urca De Lima last week, became the rightful king of Peru, as he had taken the throne of its last Aztec ruler. And these are the Captain's distinguished guests. This is Señor Avadoro” the nobleman pointed to a stocky Spaniard in black “leading the bandits in the Sierra Morena; and next to him” now he pointed to a tall, thin man, also dressed in black, like everyone else “sits the incomparable Don Pedro de Uzeda, cabalist and master of black magic.”
Captain Don Alfonso waved his hand and at this sign the sailors holding Joe sat him down at the table opposite Don Alfonso, then the innkeeper ran up and placed a big cup filled with Madeira in front of Joe.
“Don Alfonso de la Torre,” the black nobleman continued, “and his companions have heard your story, and he wishes you to finish it now for the amusement of him and his distinguished guests.” As soon as Joe moistened his lips with wine, he cleared his throat and resumed where he left off:
“Noble gentlemen, as you already know, on a dark night I found myself on board the Swordfish only in the company of boatswain O'Connor; only the two of us managed to get onto the deck, where several walking deads were wandering around. I froze motionless in terror. Boatswain O'Connor immediately reached into the duffel bag he had grabbed before fleeing the cabin and pulled out a thick, black leather-bound book.”
“Were there any decorative embossings visible on the book?”, the cabbalist asked impatiently.
“I think two or three, Your Honor,” Joe replied hesitantly. “It was dark, I looked at it just a moment, but I think I saw something like a wolf's head...”
“Werewolf seal,” Don Pedro muttered under his breath.
“So boatswain O'Connor took out the book, opened it and in a firm voice recited some mysterious formula in a language unknown to me, and finally raised the book in the air and shouted: “Don't see us. Now!” Then he grabbed my hand and led me through the mob of living deads to the ship's mast. Surprisingly, none of the undead attacked us or tried to stop us. He stuck a wide knife into the mast, hung a gold cross on a chain on it, placed me under the cross, took a chalk out of a bag, and began to carefully draw a circle around me and the mast, constantly mumbling some weird words. When he finished, he opened the book, read some spell from it and looked at me seriously.”
“For now, we are protected by a spell that deprives demons and their servants of the ability to see the living, but against us is a powerful devil that will surely be able to deal with it; all my knowledge of magic, which I acquired in the service of my Lord before the devils hunted his soul and dragged it to hell, will be of no use against him. But there is on this ship, in the treasures of the thrice-cursed Limping William, a powerful magical item with which we have a chance of survival. I have to get to it, so I need to distract these hellish zombies and the devil himself. Don't be afraid – when I remove the spell of invisibility from you and the monsters attack you, you will be completely safe in this magic circle. Just don't go out of it and don't put even the smallest piece of your body beyond the line! I will either find this item quickly, or I will die before you.”
“Having said this, he moved away from the circle, read something from the book, pointed at me and said: “See him. Now!” Then all the dead sailors turned towards me and immediately rushed at me; however, the first one to reach me bounced, as if off an invisible ward, and his hands crumbled into ashes. Such was the power of the circle protecting me, behind which there was a crowd of dead figures surrounding me, but none of them tried to cross the warding barrier.”
“Surrounded by a swarm of zombies who wanted to kill me with all their might, alone and abandoned by my last living companion, not knowing what was happening to him or whether he was still alive, I experienced the most terrible, darkest moments of my life.”
“I don't know how long it lasted - for me it was an eternity in hell - suddenly I heard a noise, like the sounds of fighting, some shouts in a strange language. A fireball flashed with a loud hiss right next to me, but the spreading wave of fire flowed around the invisible wall protecting me. As soon as the flames disappeared, I saw several dead bodies consumed by the fierce fire fall to the deck, and through the resulting gap in the tight cordon of zombies, I saw boatswain O'Connor running towards me. He staggered on his feet, holding back the blood flowing from the wound in his belly with one hand, and holding an ebony wand with an ivory knob in the other. He was already reaching the mast when he suddenly tripped over a lying corpse and fell right next to me.”
“ “Help me!” – boatswain O'Connor desperately stretched his arms out towards me. I bent down to hold him up. At the same moment, I heard a devilish chuckle and I felt terrible pain in my palms, which were pierced by the devil's sharp claws. The boatswain turned into a giggling devil, but suddenly he howled in pain and abruptly let go of one of my hands, although it still stuck out of the magic circle drawn at my feet. Without hesitation, I reached for the cutlass in my belt with my free hand and with one slash I cut off the other hand palm that was trapped in the devil's grip! This way, my entire body was once again protected by the magical circle. I took the scarf off my head and bandaged the bleeding stump of my arm, but I felt weak and my vision has darkened.”
“Why did the devil loosen his grip? What happened?” asked chief Avadoro with curiosity.
“The sacred tattoo on my hand saved me, Señor,” Joe replied simply.
“Tattoo, you say… Can you show it?” Don Pedro interjected.
Joe placed his hand on the table, the back of his palm facing up, so that in the candlelight they could clearly see the lines of a small tattoo in the very center of his metacarpal, blurred by the elements of wind and salt water. Both Captain Don Alfonso and Señor Avadoro, and even the nobleman with the Spanish beard, looked away with disgust from the dirty, long-uncleaned hands, but the cabalist carefully studied the pattern of the blurry drawing.
“Yeees.. Miter of St. Nicholas. A powerful sign”, seeing Señor Avadoro's surprised look, Don Pedro explained “St. Nicholas of Myra is a patron of those, who are working at the sea – fishermen, sailors and pirates, eventually.” “On your second hand you should have had the Crosier of St. Nicholas”, master of the black art said to Joe. “Didn't that mark save you from the Lord of Darkness's grasp?” he continued to questioning sailor.
“If I had it, Noble Lord... Unfortunately, a Spanish Jesuit, a very learned and pious man, who was a guest on our ship, had to...”
Don Alfonso made a gesture of impatience, and Joe returned to his story:
“Feeling that I was losing strength, I leaned my back against the mast and slowly sat down with my legs curled up. I fought not to lose control over my body and not to fall outside the protective circle. However, I must have lost consciousness, I don't know for how long... When I came to, boatswain O'Connor, who just had bandage my hand, was leaning over me. And when I regained clarity of thought, he explained to me that he had found a powerful amulet below deck that gave him the ability to rid the ship of the devil's power; as he said this, he held tightly a thick iron chain with shackles..”
“The Chain of St. Peter, a holy relic capable of binding demons and spirits” muttered the cabbalist.
“A few hours later, the crew of Bloody Mary's Revenge, who had been searching for us at sea, reached us. In this way we were saved, and I gained an iron hook in place of my hand. See, noble gentlemen, especially you, Señor de Uzeda, that at the first opportunity I had the missing sign of St. Nicholas engraved on my iron hook and consecrated it at the church.” saying this, the sailor stood up from the table and awkwardly bowed to his hosts.
But at the sign given by the Captain, the nobleman with the black beard stopped him and asked:
“Don't you like our wine? On the contrary? So drink it to the bottom. At once!”
As soon as Joe put down his cup, he felt dizzy and heard the loud laughter of those at the table from behind the wall of fog. He fell into a sticky, dark void. When he woke up with a massive headache, the sun was high in the sky. It was approaching noon. He was lying in the gutter, on the small port square, at the foot of the gallows on which the body of a Spanish nobleman was swinging moved by the wind.

The treats I'm interested in
[in order of preference]:

- Creaks Collector's Edition
- SKALD: Against the Black Priory
- DARQ: Complete Edition
- Pinstripe

Happy haunted Halloween!

Thank you for the giveaway bjgamer! I am in for the following in order of preference (most preferred first):

The Suffering + The Suffering: Ties That Bind
SKALD: Against the Black Priory
Creaks Collector's Edition
Tainted Grail: Conquest
Blackwell Epiphany
ROGUE-FP
Darkwood
Day of the Tentacle Remastered
Black Book
In Sound Mind

I wrote the following spooky tale:

The Tower and the Golden Strand

Duanna had grown up in the fields and farms surrounding the great city of Babylon. She had taken every opportunity to run along the city streets and jump and climb along its many walls, becoming nimble like a gazelle. She knew she could do much more than gather and cart vegetables, and one day she would show it - she would perform a feat so great, surely the great king himself would take notice.

It was now harvesttime again, the time of the vernal equinox, and she was back in the great city for celebrations. From all over the empire produce was beginning to flow into the market stalls of Babylon, brought by people like herself. Vegetables of all kinds were in the stalls, including gourds and calabash of many shapes and sizes, which were often carved and inscribed with the forms and invocations of deities. Some had started a practice of hollowing out a bottle gourd and placing an incense candle inside, so that the light of the candle would flicker through the inscriptions while incense and the aroma of warm gourd-flesh wafted out in a pleasant combination of smells. Duanna had even bought one for herself, but the seller had warned her only to light the hollowed gourd and not to eat it, for the gourd-flesh inside had been coated with incense and would numb the tongue. She felt bad about wasting her little coin on something not practical, but had bought it anyway, placing it into her rucksack.

As the day waned, the open area of the market fell into shadow. Duanna looked towards source of the shadow in reverence. The sun had moved behind the great tower in the center of the city, Etemenanki, dedicated to the high god. The harvesttime celebration was to thank the god for the fertility of the land, and the tower was going to be a center of festivities over the coming days. The tower had been there for as long as Duanna remembered, built over the ages, older than the city walls themselves. It was said the tower had been there for the whole reign of king Hammurabi, and of his father Sin-Muballit, and of his father Apil-Sin, and of his father Sabium, and of all the kings that had gone before whose names Duanna did not know. High it rose, so high Duanna could not see its top from the ground. It was said past kings had each added a new tier to the tower, but in her time Duanna had not seen any new construction. Even the priests only lit candles in the windows of the first three floors, but above the tower lay dark and silent.

Duanna walked towards the tower now, intending to say an evening prayer before returning to her hovel outside the city perimeter. But as she arrived near the tower's base her ears caught a faint voice. "Help me... please... help." A maiden's voice. She raced, arriving in an adjacent alley with trash littered around. And the voice was there again, "Help... I am here... please, at the tower walls-".

Duanna saw now-one, but then something glinted in the fading light along the tower wall, what looked like a very thin golden strand, no more than a wisp, hanging down from somewhere above. She walked to it and tugged. "Ah!" the voice came. "You found me! Please help me, oh kind hero!" Duanna called out "Who are you?" while pulling the strand again, but it held firm."

"I cannot hear you hero," the answer came after awhile, "for I am very high up at the top of this tower. Hero, I am Rapunzel, and what you hold in your hand is a strand of my hair. I have been imprisoned here by an evil lord, for my hair is special and like no other. I suffer here alone - I have no rope to escape, all I can do is let down my hair, in hope of a brave hero to climb up and rescue me. Please help me!"

For a time Duanna hesitated, stricken by indecision - who was she, a lowly farmer, to scale the walls of a holy tower like this, or to defy the will of lords? But then she thought, surely this is the great feat I was meant for. Surely the king himself will notice when I bring this maiden back safely. She doubtfully seized hold of the thin golden strand with both her hands, and to her surprise it seemed firm.

"Yes, my hero. I can feel your strength. Climb up my hair, fair one. Rescue me!" The maiden's voice floated down.

And so Duanna began her climb, holding her feet against the tower wall and her hands on the golden strand, taking one tentative step at a time, then with more confidence. She was glad she was on a windowless side of the tower so that the priests inside the first floors could not see her.

As she ascended the strand of hair grew thicker, easier to hold on to. Duanna passed through more floors of the great tower, and saw inscribed along the walls dedications to the god. Marduk, one inscription said. Marutuk, said another further up. In her mind Duanna beseeched the god for aid in her task.

A she continued upwards Rapunzel's gentle voice continued speaking, thanking her for her bravery, telling how lonely she had been and how she had wondered what life must be like down there on the ground. Duanna tried asking how long she had been there but Rapunzel did not hear her yet - the distance was too far still.

Duanna was now very far up, and the city of Babylon seemed small below her, her own home lost as a mere speck. As she climbed ever higher, the winds rose around the tower, threatening to freeze her hands, and she sought to hide them from the wind by wrapping part of Rapunzel's hair around her hands even as she gripped onto the central part of the hair. The inscriptions along the wall of the holy tower continued with new names - Marutu, then Amar Utu, Martu, and Amurru, and Rapunzel silently beseeched them too.

"You are doing well my hero," Rapunzel's voice spoke, "But a challenge awaits. There are birds here, carrion eaters. You must fight them, hero. Fear not, I will gift to you a weapon." Then, along with the strand Duanna was climbing, another lock of hair rolled down, a sword of bronze wrapped in its strands. Duanna was no soldier, but she took it as her only choice. Then she heads screeching around her, and indeed a bird flew by, large, with talons stretched out, and she rolled against the wall to dodge them. Another came, and a third, and she slashed with the sword in fear. At first she missed and a talon struck her, drawing blood. She rolled around in pained confusion, holding Rapunzel's stretched hair as if it were a pole. The next attack came and she feared the strands would break, but instead they held strong and the bird's talong was entangled in them. She felt ashamed to use the maiden's hair so, and quickly slashed at the trapped bird, which screeched and plummeted down. Soon after the other birds departed, not having found easy prey after all. After taking several shaking breaths Duanna took renewed hold on the hair, combining both locks of hair into one, and continued upward. The hair was now a voluminous mass and seemed to quiver in her hands.

Duanna climbed higher, and the tower started to be enveloped in cloud. Along the walls were now inscribed many other names for the god that Duanna barely recognized as words, but she silently invoked them nonetheless. "You are almost here, my hero," Rapunzel entreated, "Only a little while further."

As she climbed the mist-enshrouded walls thunder started to rumble, and lightning flashed all around in the clouds. Rapunzel's voice cried out "Quickly, hero! Climb up the rest of the way! Behold, I send my hair for you!" As Duanna emerged momentarily out of the clouds she saw new coils of hair all along the tower, waving to and fro as they were buffeted by the wind. And then Duanna felt the air change, and she leapt at one of them just as bolt of light from the clouds struck the coil of hair she had been climbing. Rapunzel cried out in pain, but Duanna managed to grab hold of the new coil and continue climbing, as fast as she could. She could see a top of the tower ahead, darkened, with only the gleam of the golden coils marking its boundary. Again she felt something and leapt away as lightning struck, Rapunzel's pained voice howling, but Duanna made progress, again and again, and then she was finally at the top.

Thunder still rolled around and flashed but no more lightning struck nearby. The tower-top was bare aside from a few broken pieces of wood and bronze. Duanna could see a multitude of hair coils, occasionally glinting in the light, converging at the center of the room in a great mass. "Rapunzel?" she asked uneasily. "Are you there?"

And her voice arose all around, and spoke with great satisfaction, "At last I hear you, my brave hero. I am here indeed. Behold." And the coils of golden hair rose up throughout the room, and twirled, and swayed, and rotated. Duanna took a step back, shocked.

"Do you not know whom you behold, human?" the voice boomed out. "Ra-Pun-Z'El they named me, the Devouring Sun. I was the elder god of this land. My coils flared in the light of your days - like flame they blazed as they curled across land and sky, and the people worshipped me as the sun come down to earth." The voice echoed from the walls, and seemed to be not one but many voices. "And they fed me, as was my right - as the sun nourishes, it must also devour, and so I did, all they gave I ate." The voice then turned to sudden anger, growling out "But the people were faithless and false, and they turned to new gods, upstarts, and they tricked me onto this tower where their wards held me fast. And so I have waited - and I hunger. Oh, I hunger! I HUNGER!"

And the golden coils turned, and spread, and were revealed to be full of mouths all along their length, open and gnashing with teeth. Duanna cried out in horror.

"Rejoice human," the voice proclaimed "For you shall be my rescuer. You shall tell me all the names your peoples have for your god, the names by which they bound me, the names by which they warded this tower. And by those names I shall break free. And I shall then bind your god instead by his names, and I shall EAT HIM. And I shall rule again."

The coils - tentacles - reached towards Duanna, almost like a caress, if it were not for the teeth brushing her skin. "Tell me then, brave one, what do you call your god? Your reward shall be great."

Duanna gulped but would not speak. The voice grew angry. "Recalcitrant, I see. If you will not tell, I will punish you. Do not test me." But still Duanna stayed silent.

The voice raged. "Foolish one! You shall now tell me through your pain. Give me a name, call to it, scream it out loud! Scream every name you know!" And the coils lashed at Duanna, ripping at her skin with the teeth, hurling her to the floor of the tower. Duanna slashed at the golden coils with the bronze sword, but it bounced and the being only laughed and tossed it away, and struck at Duanna again making her gasp. The coils reared and hurled her about the tower's top, lashing all about the tower's walls like writhing netting.

Duanna was in agony and knew she would not hold on much longer - she had been taught from very childhood to appeal to her god, the words were ingrained in her mind and on the climb she had had nothing else to look at for much of the time. But then as the assault of the coils continued, she knew what to do. She reached into her forgotten, tattered rucksack, and pulled out the bottle gourd she had bought, so long ago it seemed, from a seller at the market stalls far below. The gourd was still intact, and she bit down on it as hard as she could, spreading the gourd-flesh onto her tongue.

Then the monstrosity attacking her struck, harder than ever, and she cried out to her god for help. But no words came, only a garbled sound. "What?" the voice asked in disbelief, "What name is that? Say it again." And it struck, and Duanna screamed, but no words arose. And the monster howled in rage. "How can you defy me? I shall yet lash it out of you!" But Duanna staggered to the edge of the tower, and toppled over.

She was over the edge of the tower and beginning to fall when the coils caught her. "No, my hero. You shall not escape me, not ever, not until you have betrayed your gods with your last dying breath!" the voice roared from all the mouths in the coils. More and more coils came down, entwining into a single massive coil, reaching to envelop and imprison Duanna in a curling mass of tendrils.

And then lightning struck the coil, and the voice screeched with all of its mouths as the tendrils went rigid and released Duanna, and she fell.

Down she spun at the edge of the tower wall, trying desperately with her hands to catch onto something, but the stones were slick with mist and rain and she found no purchase, until suddenly her hands caught onto something briefly. It was an inscription, a forgotten god-name. For no paint would have survived all those years, and instead the inscriptions were made of deep indentations in the stone. But her flailing arms caught it only a moment, and she fell again, until she came to a next inscription where she now held on with all her strength, her hands almost wrenched out of their sockets by the impact, causing her to howl wordlessly. But she had no way to scale the wall down - no way other than to fall again.

And so, after a brief rest, she did. Floor by floor Duanna fell, catching onto the names of the god. Through all the forgotten names she fell, thanking them in turn, then through the ones she remembered, Amurru, then Martu, then Amar Utu, then Marutu, then Marutuk, and at the last, Marduk. And Duanna was still alive. And she dropped and at last onto the empty city street where she lay in exhaustion. It was beginning to be dawn, and a street sweeper came by and noticed her. He asked if she was alright but Duanna could not answer, only wordless garbles came out of her mouth. After a moment of curiosity the street sweeper shrugged and continued on his task.

In time Duanna rose and left the city, glancing back at the tower, no longer in reverence but in grim satisfaction. For the rest of her days she knew more names than any other for those who had protected her, and she was happy to tell them to those who asked, regardless of which people they came from, and whether they called the city Babylon, or Babiru, or Babel, she would tell them of the tower and how it protected them from a great evil. But there was one name that she would never say again - Rapunzel.

What a wonderful, spooky and fun giveaway! Thank you so much.

I'm in for these games:

- The Witcher 3: Wild Hunt - Complete Edition
- Black Book
- SKALD: Against the Black Priory
- Day of the Tentacle Remastered
- DARQ: Complete Edition
- Hellblade: Senua's Sacrifice
- Gibbous - A Cthulhu Adventure Deluxe Edition
- Little Nightmares
- Tainted Grail: Conquest
- Creaks Collector's Edition

Jokes:

1)

- Why did the vampire astronaut flunk his mission?
- He couldn’t handle the solar system.

2)

- Why don't ghosts ever win writing contests?
- Their plots lack substance.

Thank you for the giveaway. I'd like to be in for the following games:

Tainted Grail: Conquest
Black Book
SKALD: Against the Black Priory
ROGUE-FP
Darkwood
DARQ: Complete Edition
Pinstripe


And to spread some Halloween mood:

What is a zombie's favorite kind of food?
Brain food.

What is a ghost's favorite kind of drink?
Ghoul-aid.

What does a werewolf eat for breakfast?
A pooched egg.

Why didn't anyone want to go trick or treating with Dracula?
Because he is a pain in the neck.

And last (but certainly not least) a reading of The Raven by Christopher Lee.

In the corner the clock is ticking
On the windowsill sits a black cat flicking
flicking the very tip of its tail.
Outside under the window creeping
there comes the sound of ghostly weeping
the weeping turns eerily into a wail.

Across the Gogyard rises a haunting mist
over tombstones bequethed to make the list
the keys prepared unto each Dimension's door.
Do you hear a spectral tapping?
Is it the wind or Hand of Fate rapping?
Who will claim these realms forevermore?

As the time marks slowly down
the spooks and specters gather round
and so we now come to pay our last respects.
Thank we now our Ghouls and Ghasts,
our storytellers, their poems, jokes and jests,
that so entertained as we await Fate's picks ...

The Spooktober Giveaway is now closed. Thank you to all our Ghasts! I have ghoulishly enjoyed your imaginative tales, haunting poems, jokes to tickle our funny 'bones' and spooky creativity. :)

Now the list will be assembled and passed over to the Hand of Fate ... it will be randomized 13 times and then I will announce the winners and send out the keys to these Spooktober gaming realms.

-----
Talk about on the 'deadline' for a story. That actually was ... to the last minute. ;)

Arrr! Last minute, no wonder the metal clunks for me!

If I'm still in, I'll pick Darkwood, Day of the Tentacle Remastered and Creaks.

Cue the spooky laughter ... turn up the mist ... now bring in the ghostly gifts ...
We have winners! :D

From the Haunted Gogyard the Hand of Fate reaches out to tap the following Ghasts on the shoulder and summons a Poltergeist Messenger (PM) to materialize a key into their grasp ...:
(Please be sure to have your PM set to public and redeem your keys to the acct entering by 1 November 2024.)

- Black Book ~~ mrkgnao
) Bad Dream: Coma + Bad Dream: Fever ~~ igorche9
- Blackwell Epiphany ~~ Kerr_Laeda
- Creaks Collector's Edition ~~ KillingMoon
- Darkwood ~~ .Keys
- DARQ: Complete Edition ~~ RenKalan
- Day of the Tentacle Remastered ~~ AB2012
- Gibbous - A Cthulhu Adventure Deluxe Edition ~~ Clairsentient
- Hellblade: Senua's Sacrifice ~~ Braggadar
- In Sound Mind - Deluxe Edition ~~ Provide_A_Username
- LIMBO ~~ topolla
- Little Nightmares ~~ Outriders
- Pinstripe ~~ sasuke12
- Prey ~~ FPS2023
* ROGUE-FP ~~ Mister.Wolf
* SKALD: Against the Black Priory ~~ Lifthrasil
) SOMA ~~ Ruvika
- Tainted Grail: Conquest ~~ BJMcKay
^ The Suffering + The Suffering: Ties That Bind ~~ DiffuseReflection
- The Witcher 3: Wild Hunt - Complete Edition ~~ CervelloYM

) Please thank KillingMoon for donating your key.
* Please thank Doc0075 for donating your key.
^ Please thank HypersomniacLive for donating your key.

Congratulations Spooksters! Your keys to your new realms will be haunting your way shortly!
Thanks again to all participants! Spook you next year!

A big thanks to our host bjgamer for yet another cool themed giveaway, and for our host and the participating donors for the fine gifts myself and my fellow winners have received.

Thanks to all fellow participants too for their creative entries. :) These creative giveaways are a lot of fun, aren't they?

It was fun letting my imagination loose among the haunted tales in the GOGyard, and seeing all the spooky creativity from the community made it even better.
Thank you bjgamer for organizing such a fantastic, eerie event and for the generous key donations! Happy Spooktober to everyone, and I can’t wait to start exploring the chilling world of Little Nightmares!