In Edmonton, Alberta, there is a hotel called the Canterra, off of Jasper Avenue and 109th Street. During the night, go here and ring the doorbell. Should you be let in, look to see who the guard on shift is. If the man looks in his mid twenties, yet the hair on his head and face both are white as snow, take a seat beside the security desk. If it is any other guard on shift, leave and return in a week’s time.
Here you must wait. The guard will say not a word, nor answer any questions you may ask. He hears you, but he will not respond. He will only give you a sad look, as if knowing something terrible awaits. When the time is 2:52 AM, the guard will rise to perform a patrol of the building. Follow him only on this patrol, if you follow him at any time before 2:52 AM, you will be forcefully removed from the hotel, and lose your chance.
Say not a word as you walk the halls behind the guard. He will check that the rooms are all locked, as well as patrol the stairwells. When you both reach the 5th floor, you will notice that it is remarkably colder than the last four. Yes, the floor is deafeningly quiet—it is normal. When the guard secures all the rooms on the floor, you will both stop at a door that seems much older than any other door you’ve yet seen in the hotel. This is room 512. Only this particular guard has access to this room. Take note of the key of which the guard uses to unlock this door; it will be important later.
At this point, the guard will open the room for you and allow you to pass through. It will be quite dark, but do not yet be afraid—the worst is yet to come. Take a deep breath, close your eyes, and step through the doorway. Do not open them until you hear the door close behind you, for seeing the transition can be maddening.
It will be almost unbearably hot here. You will find yourself in a long hallway with numerous turns. There will be thirteen doors lining this hallway—do not open any of them. Take note which door has a splash of white paint on it; this will be critical soon. When you reach the end of the hallway, you will find yourself in the living room of the suite. In each corner of the room you should see tall figures, each with burnt flesh. They should all be sitting on the floor, hugging their legs with their heads upon their knees and facing their respective corner. Their fingers will be chewed away until their tips are nothing but sharp, bony talons. Do not address these figures and do not touch them; they are Her guardians.
In the center of this room, there She should be. She will be sitting in an old, ragged reclining chair. It is impossible to say how She will look, for Her appearance changes for everyone. She should, like Her guardians, be asleep. Do not awaken her from her slumber.
For now, you have time to rest. There will be food and drink set out upon the coffee table in front of Her, and you are welcome to it. Do not partake in the pie, however, for it will numb your legs.
Should you be so bold, take a look outside the window. It will resemble a hellish version of the avenue which the hotel is on. The buildings will be burnt-out husks of their former selves, the river valley beyond will be dry and cracked. Fire will appear to be on the horizon, and the ever-burning sun will resemble blood set ablaze. Should you stay for hours on end, you will find no reprieve from the heat—there is no night here.
Now, look to the streets—you will find the same figures there as the ones in the room. They, however, are awake—shuffling, screaming and wailing from their black maws. They have no eyes in their sockets, but by some twisted means they can still see. Take care not to attract their attention, for they will follow you back to our world and this venture will be for naught.
When you are ready, stand before Her and speak clearly these words: “Save me, Mother, please.”
Say nothing else and wait. You should start to hear Her breathe.
At this point, one of two things will happen. Remember the key which the guard opened this room with? Should She place that same key on the table in front of you, count yourself lucky. Should She, however, place a different key upon the table, you will need to give Her an offering. A knife that was not previously on the table will now be present. The blade will be rusted, bloodied. Take this knife, and sever a finger, placing it beside the key. Wait.
If She places the same key as the guard’s on the table, you may take it and leave. If not, remove another finger. This will only occur a maximum of four times before the right key will be produced.
Once the key is in your possession, She will once again return to Her haunted slumber.
Now pay attention, for you only have a short amount of time. The Guardians will be stirring, now. Slowly they will rise from their sleep and turn in towards the room to face you. If they see you, they will slaughter you. Run. You have 10 seconds before they will fully turn from their corners.
Remember that door with the white splash of paint? That is the door you will need to use to remove yourself from this hell. If you hear screaming from behind you, the guardians are fully awake and are coming. You don’t have much time. Find the white-marked door and get out!
You will find yourself inexplicably outside your own home, exactly a week after you entered the hotel. Keep the key on you at all times, wherever you go.
One day in the future, distant or near, a ragged old door with the number ‘777’ will appear wherever you happen to be. Use the key and open this door immediately. Leave anyone with you behind.
Wherever it leads, it will be far better than what is about to happen to this world.