So here’s how to play the game called “Little Coffin”:
First, the player makes the coffin. It can be made it out of whatever meets certain requirements. First, it needs to be a single, foldable sheet one can make a small box out of. It can be cut, but one can’t cut it up and put separate pieces back together. The final coffin has to be made from a single folded sheet, durable enough to last a day in the ground, and most importantly, made by the player. If it’s made by someone other than the person playing the game, it won’t work.
Second, the player digs the grave. Again, there are rules for how this is done. The player must make the grave, just like the box. It needs to be at least a foot deeper than the top of the coffin they made. They should use a ruler or tape measure to check, because less than that and it won’t work. And it cannot be dug in an actual cemetery or any other place that is considered hallowed ground, but it must be in a place where there has been recent death, preferably violent and/or multiple deaths have occurred there, the more recent the better. Again, if these rules aren’t followed, the game will not work.
Third, they must cut off a length of hair at least as big around as a drinking straw and an inch long. If their hair is shorter than this, they can use this alternative method: Melt down wax until one has the equivalent of four tablespoons of wax. Sprinkle a good amount of one’s hair into the wax and roll it into a tube as it cools. The tube containing the hair should again be at least as big around as a drinking straw and an inch long.
Fourth, the player needs to prepare the coffin to be buried. This means putting their note inside the coffin, sealing the top with tape (there should only be one “seam” or opening in the coffin, but if it has more than one, they should all be sealed with tape that is signed so it can’t be easily replaced). The player then puts the box in the grave and covers it up. Near the end of filling in the grave, the player takes their cut hair (or wax tube with hair in it) and puts it in the grave dirt where the top of the hair or wax is just above the surface when the grave is complete.
The burial needs to occur between noon and 1pm or it will not work. The player can’t tell anyone else that they are doing any of this or where the coffin is buried at any point during this process or it will not work.
After the burial is complete, the player should come back to the grave at midnight of the following day. In other words, about thirty-six hours later. They dig up the coffin, open it up, and find what’s waiting for them.
If they’ve done everything properly and without help from anyone else, they should have an answer from beyond the grave. The player can ask any question they like, but only one question will be answered. If a player finds the note in the coffin unchanged, they should go back through the above rules, as they’ve likely broken at least one of them.
Once the question is answered, the player will understand more.
So here’s how to play the game “Big Coffin”:
First, one makes a coffin. The size can vary, but it should be at least three feet across and tall, and six feet long to be on the safe side. Using a durable wood is recommended—oak or cedar are good options, but the main thing is avoiding things with low density and flexibility. Use wood screws, not nails. Nails can be pried loose or pulled out much easier, compromising the integrity of the coffin. The player should not buy a coffin or have someone else make it for them. Doing it on their own is part of the game.
Second, one digs the grave. It should be deep enough that there is at least five feet of earth on top of the coffin when the player is finished burying it. The burial site for the big coffin should be a place that is isolated and easy to access.
Third, the player should try to identify an area that has three things: decent population density, rural and/or secluded areas nearby, and a recent local tragedy where multiple people were killed. The tragedy location is very important. It needs to be an area that has little to no security and is also remote and/or not frequented at night.
Fourth, the player must distribute the rules to the “Little Coffin” game in that area through discrete but pervasive channels. They must then set up trail cameras or other means of surveillance to reliably watch for anyone coming to perform the first half of the “Little Coffin” game.
Once a “Little Coffin” player and burial site has been identified, the “Big Coffin” player must wait for their return the second midnight after burying their little coffin. If the “Little Coffin” player has followed the rules, they are alone.
The player collects them and transports them to the Big Coffin burial site.
The Little Coffin player is secured in the coffin. The Big Coffin player must ensure that the Little Coffin player is conscious prior to closing the coffin. This is both to ensure they are aware of what is happening and to give them their answer from beyond the grave.
The answer, regardless of their question, is always the same.
The answer is “Death”.
The Big Coffin player then completes burying the coffin and leaves the burial site for the last time. If everything has been done correctly, the Big Coffin player will be contacted electronically one week later. The email will be indistinguishable from junk mail other than the fact that the email metadata will somewhere contain the words “dark” and “path”. The player then replies with the two words “another step”. After the reply, they will be contacted again more personally.
The above two documents were found hidden on my daughter’s hard drive last month. I never would have found them, but after her disappearance and the police’s refusal to help me find her because she was twenty-one and there were no obvious signs of a crime, I hired a private investigator. He interviewed her friends and college faculty, but it wasn’t until he searched her laptop that these two “games” were found.
He says the files originated from an “onion site” on the “darkweb”. At first I thought he was joking or trying to pump me for more money—it sounded like something from a bad movie, after all. But when I looked at him, I could tell he was serious, deadly serious, and as he talked, I realized he wasn’t asking for money.
He was giving me a refund.
He said he didn’t know much about all this, but he’d heard enough over the years to be worried. And after talking to the woman that did his tech and internet forensic, he knew enough to be scared. Said he didn’t want any part of the case or dealings with me and my daughter. That he hoped I found her, but he was out.
The envelope he gave me had printouts of the two games and my retainer, but nothing else. No explanation for what it all meant or how it was supposed to help me find my little girl. I was angry and half-crazy with grief, and I convinced myself this was all part of some long con where I, believing the P.I. had secret knowledge and insight, begged him to work for me again for more money. Enraged at the thought of him holding out on me, I called him.
“Look, I already told you…”
“I know what you said. And I know that you’re either withholding information from me or full of shit. So which is it?”
“Hey, I gave you back your money. I don’t owe you shit. Now if you don’t…”
“Is my little girl buried somewhere? Is she?”
I heard a heavy sigh, and for a moment I thought he was going to hang up, but then he began to speak. “No. Or I don’t think so. Based on it being downloaded onto her computer and connected internet activity, I think she was the one that was looking for the games and found them. It’s part of a larger thing, I think. I’m told it’s an internet cult. Very hush hush. Very dangerous.”
“That…she wouldn’t do that. She must have gotten tricked. She always liked games. I bet someone else got her to play the Little Coffin game. I…I have to find her before it’s too late. She can’t br…”
“Sir. Sir, listen. All that you’re saying, that may be. I can’t say for sure. But what I can tell you is that if she’s been buried for two weeks, she’s already long dead. And besides, I don’t think that’s what happened here.”
“You son-of-a-bitch. You don’t know. You poke around a girl’s laptop and what, you think she’s in this…this cult?”
“What I think doesn’t really matter, as I’m no longer on the case. But what I can tell you is this. A week before your daughter went missing, a high school girl named Brandi Lester disappeared. I looked into it. No sign of where she went, but the cops talked to her best friend. Brandi had told the friend that she’d found a new game on a local message board. A secret game that was supposed to let her talk to ghosts or something. She wouldn’t give her any details, but it sure sounds like someone that was trying to play Little Coffin.”
“So? It sounds like these psychos were trying to get people to play it. Maybe that poor girl is just like my Jenny.”
“Mmmhmm.”
“What? Spit it out. What are you implying?”
“Not implying nothing. Just giving you some advice. You might need to accept the possibility that your daughter was playing the other game. Big Coffin. And…”
“Listen…”
“…and, and if she was, maybe she doesn’t want to be found. Either way, I’m out. I’m sorry for your loss or whatever, but I don’t want the people she’s tied up with looking in my direction. I’m too old be watching over my shoulder all the time. Maybe you are too.”
I went to say more, but he’d already hung up. In the week after that phone call I made no real progress, either on my own or hiring someone new. I finally called the old P.I. again, ready to bite the hook and pay him double, triple, if he’d just keep trying to find Jenny. When he didn’t answer after a couple of days, I went by his office.
It was empty. Not just closed, but stripped down and bare, with no sign out front or furniture inside. I even double-checked I hadn’t somehow gone to the wrong place, but no, just two weeks earlier it had been a private investigator’s office. Now it looked sterile and abandoned, the only sign of life a bit of graffiti scratched onto the side of the bottom step, like a leftover hieroglyphic on the wall of a tomb.
I saw some of that same graffiti on my driveway tonight. A row of symbols in black chalk that look like nonsense to me, but then again, I don’t think I’m who they’re meant for. I tell myself I’m over-reacting. I’m stressed and guilty and terrified I’ve lost Jenny for good, whether it’s to a secret grave or a secret life. Looking out into the dark as I write this, I wonder if anyone is out there looking in.
Is that a shadow among the shadows? I can’t say for sure. All I have is questions after all, and as the night deepens only one thing seems to grow more and more certain.
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