Originally published as Carnival House in Cadaver Dogs 2024 and Espiral en el Estuco (Spanish Edition) 2025 Adapted for public reading.

All Rights Reserved by ©Mitchell Pluto

The lesser mysteries were open to anyone who wanted to join the lively street parade, but unraveling the secrets of the greater enigmas involved being selected.

The secret group of performers included actresses who helped change people’s perceptions of themselves.

A spine and a brain were simply a keyboard to play.

Few know the mysterious past of the mystery troupe. Some say they are witches, while others claim they are ingenious philosophers.

Many suggest that their extraordinary four-dimensional theatrical experience has the potential to induce a psychic state in the audience.
No one can answer with certainty.

The authors of the show will remain unknown to us. The key is self-exploration to better understand the thing we call ourselves.

I was inspired by witnessing their performances, especially considering the restrictions that prevented women from participating in Hellas theater. I wanted to see how the mystery play portrayed metempsychosis.

A dignified woman handed me an invitation.

I considered myself lucky.

The statements of the friends who attended concurred: all who ventured into the underground temple emerged transformed and with an enhanced mind.

My goal was enjoyment, whether the secrets were imaginary, sexual, or drug-induced.

Following the temple’s instructions, I performed the ablutions in the river. The first performer was a fisherman, who told me he was looking for pitch, rhythm, and duration. He cast a line, and I caught it.

He led me to the bank, and I followed him to the temple.

Crows in flight watched us as we walked. They have been trained to memorize and vocalize my name. The birds amuse themselves by taunting me with predictions related to my failure.

At the entrance, ancient emblems were visible. The door panel resembled the shape of the sarcophagus of Usiris, god of the chthonic realm.

The symbols painted on the door also matched those of the Shiva lingam, the serpent of Asclepius, and a symbol resembling a symmetrical pine cone.

To begin, I knocked on the door three times. Aegle, a very cheerful hostess, greeted me by name. A pleasant feeling of well-being washed over me.

She was generous and held a cup.

The dim candlelight cast strange shadows on the walls of a dark room.

Someone had placed a coffin in the floor.

This coffin supported a staircase that led down into the earth.

With each step down, the rungs became wetter, their textures mysterious.
I decided to ignore what I felt and focus on something else.

Taking the last step, I found myself inside a pentagram drawn on the ground. A woman was present at each point, one of whom was my host. They introduced themselves.

Their names were Hygieia of Purification, Panacea of ​​Medicine, Iaso of Revitalization, Aceso of Operation, and the hostess, Aegle of Joyful Strength.

There I received the first cup, called kykeon. Its taste was reminiscent of strong beer. With their voices united, the women expressed their thoughts through chants.

Flutes could be heard in the background.

The music intertwined, creating a mixture of harmony and discord that reflected my physical fluctuations.

At different corners of the star, the women rotated and alternated their positions.

I joined in this movement by observing; I felt a deep satisfaction and confidence.

With a sudden pause, the music ended, leaving behind an eerie silence. I was handed a torch. Aegle and her sisters lead me down a dark corridor, their arms poking through holes in the wall, ready to support me.

Panacea advises me to be careful of the light source as I make my way through a maze of several thick, damp curtains. Some of them being hanging animal furs.

We enter a chamber bathed in a soft green glow, with walls adorned with stained-glass windows that form an octagon.

In the center of the room, a golden chair has been placed in front of a small well.

I feel the women’s hands as they take my torch and guide me toward the well.

They buried me up to my neck; their soothing voices offered me some comfort, but not much. In a melodious voice, Iaso spoke my name, and the sound hung in the air.

Silence filled the space as a woman, dressed in a sheer black peplos, entered the room.

She embodied the sensuality of Demeter with her full figure. A shiver ran through her body as she sat on the golden chair. I stood before her, unable to move.

Aceso poured me another kykeon and gently held it to my lips. Then, Hygiea poured water on my hair.

The sisters took turns drawing rings around my head on the ground.
They created a line extending from my chin to the circumference of the circle. Hygiea sang a song, showing me how music serves as a compass in life.

As the song ended, Demeter rose from her chair and her eyes met mine.

Demeter stood on the outer edge, where the diameter and circumference met.

On her knees, she revealed her vulva by opening her skirt.

Demeter’s voice gave me a strange atmosphere.

The woman used an onomatopoeic effect, employing primal sounds instead of words. I imagined myself transported to a time before civilization.
The sounds displayed wild, sexual, and disturbing characteristics.

The five sisters dug me out and cared for me as if I were an uprooted plant.
They passed me a torch.

Iaso led the way, and the sisters followed. We entered a rotating, cylindrical tunnel operated by hydraulic power.

Maintaining my balance is a challenge.

A mirrored curtain distorts my reflection at the end of the tunnel.

Aegle advised me to face it head-on, passing through.

Behind the curtain, two steam vents dispersed. As the water vapor dissipated, a huge relief of a nude Demeter rose on a stone wall.

A raised walkway gave access to a door located where her vagina was.

The river of figures, dressed in contrasting black and white, moves in a choreographed, serpentine formation beneath the bridge.

This creates a deep unease in me.

The work depicts a battle scene, with soldiers sinking beneath the tides, their screams muffled by the earth.

This is iron and other minerals being sacrificed.

The haunting, animal wail freezes the moisture in my body. My only concern was the fear it created, overshadowing the actor’s talent and the astonishing stage effects. The fiction’s realistic portrayal convinced me of its truth.

I received Panacea’s advice to remove myself from disturbing thoughts.
Aceso takes my light and signals me to enter through the door. Hoping to find safety, I pass through colorful layers of scented sheets that release fragrances and pheromones, easing my discomfort.

I find myself in a spherical chamber. There is a portal in the ceiling that illuminates a rectangular bed with sunlight.

The sight of countless fresh flowers hid any trace of a wall, giving me time to recover and admire the intelligence of nature in each petal for many hours.

The group of five sisters entered the room dressed in black. They asked me to undress.

The intention was to remove any artificial obstacles between the goddess Persephone and me.

They prepared me, washed me, and offered me a calming drink that later became a potent aphrodisiac.

The sisters massaged my body to align the points with the star’s proportions and gave me affirmations that, to this day, have a positive effect on my thinking.

Persephone entered the room.

The woman removed her clothes.

Persephone had a youthful, simple face, with a pear-shaped body.

The five women formed a star constellation, with us at the center.

Hygieia sang a comical song that brought us both joy and laughter.

It was followed by a song that filled the air with sad melodies. It awakened a bittersweet sense of rediscovering something long forgotten.

Accompanied by Persephone, I experienced a sense of wholeness that completed the missing pieces of an unfinished picture.

Before we met, like a blazing and radiant star, Persephone comforted me.
I fell into a deep sleep with lucid dreams. I understood totality within an ever-present circle.

Revelations fueled my growth at every stage of my past life.

Everything I observed, inside and outside my thoughts, shone with brilliance.

I reached a state of peace where there are no boundaries.

By providing me with palm trees and poppy stalks, the group of five sisters acted out a brief skit where I was a man impregnated by the goddess.

This metaphorical journey disturbed me.

Panacea informed me that this ritual fostered the growth of a man’s inner woman, the anima. I must nurture my visionary mindset, inspired by the goddess Athena.

She reminds me that Athena was born in the head of Zeus. I am told she will heal my masculinity and that women will invite me into their bodies without fear.

Soon I observed the full moon within the oculus of the curved ceiling.

Strangers and street people filled the place.

Plainly dressed, Demeter and Persephone passed unnoticed in the crowd. With the room packed with spectators, I became the center of attention.

Someone announced my passing.

Despite my presence as a living being, the actors remained absorbed in their characters.

A tower of sand lay beneath the bed block that fit over a hollow.

The sand trickled out as vents opened from a lower level, sinking the bed.

Spectators showered me with flowers as I slid beneath the dark floor.

Soon, my perception was limited to that of people huddled in a suspended rectangular frame.

I kept my gaze fixed on the figure until it faded into the distance.

I analyzed the impressions the theater had left on my mind.

Love swept over me, but it vanished in an instant.

The elevator stopped, and I found myself surrounded by curtains of an intense magenta glow.

From behind the curtain, an open hand appeared, and without hesitation, I reached out and shook it.

The cavern I landed in had braziers lit with purple and red light.

Precious stones adorned the cave walls with sparkles.

A bearded man, dressed in a crocodile skin, held a horned cup and told me I was expecting too much.

The five sisters, the attendants, had transformed into untamed figures, wearing only leopard skins around their waists.

Their breasts swung and their hair was disheveled.

He handed me the drinking horn, and I drank.

I asked him if this was Hades.

He replied that it was only a mortuary cave, ruining the disturbing image I had conjured in my mind. He said it was his place, Pluto’s lair.

He instructed me to follow him through a door where cavernous formations resembled fangs.

With some effort, we arrived at a dining room fit for an emperor.

Someone had prepared the food and placed it on the table.

He ordered me to sit down and eat, which was more of an invitation.

The five sisters consumed their food with an exaggerated display of hunger.

It was comical, but they played their parts so well that it became unsettling.

I hadn’t eaten in a while, so I was hungry.

While I was eating, Pluto was playing cat’s cradle. He braided a rope and handed it to me.

He told me to tie it around my waist and meditate on its meaning.

After we finished eating, Pluto led me to a mannequin wearing armor.
Pluto instructed me to put it on.

As he molded a piece of metal on an anvil, he told me to wait for the monster clown, whom he called Shoort.

I remained worried, expecting something to happen at any moment.

But nothing happened for a long time.

As I dozed, a creature emerged from the darkness.

The sisters sang a discordant chorus without fanfare or relief.

Rising, the creature demanded attention with its intimidating presence, asserting its dominance by finding the deepest fear within me. The monster took over my most intimate space. Fear paralyzed me. I reacted and broke free.

I fought the monster and stopped it, surprising myself.

Pluto yelled, “Grab the mask!”

I removed the mask, revealing the actor who was the fisherman.

Comically, the fisherman confessed to giving in, explaining that his actions were part of an elaborate plan to deceive me.

He said he had no choice but to follow orders.

I was about to delve deeper into my interrogation when a child’s crying diverted my attention.

Within seconds, I stumbled upon a boy trapped in a tunnel, out of my reach.

I untied the belt and rescued the little boy from the hole.

He hugged me, expressing his gratitude. The boy identified himself by my exact name.

Pluto and the five sisters clapped and cheered.

The women congratulated me as Aceso offered me a soft drink laced with anesthesia.

I woke up. The five sisters, disguised as bearded men, stared at me. They mocked the male voice as they spoke.

The voices were authoritarian, harsh, and angry.

Their question: Why did a woman like me lose consciousness?

I admitted to them that I didn’t understand what they meant.

The performers held me captive in their irony while remaining in character.

The ‘men’ helped me up, patting me on the buttocks and chest as I stood.

I realized and saw that we were performing on a stage with an audience present.

Through a mirror on the wall, I realized that someone had dressed me as a woman without my consent.

I protested, but discovered my role was silent.

The actresses did an extraordinary job pretending not to hear me.

Although the audience could hear my voice, they made unpleasant comments.

It didn’t take me long to understand the plot of the play.

The setting was a brothel. As an enslaved woman, I was traded for work in a prostitution establishment.

Three sisters took on the roles of slave traders.

Their authoritarian and malicious voices terrified me.

The remaining sisters portrayed the owner and the client.

The client’s expectation frightened me.

I kept overlooking the fact that it was only a simulation.

Now I saw the expectations I had hidden from the Aegle when he first greeted me.

My reflections were becoming visible in other people.

Three sisters crowded around me and, with surprising force, threw me into the crowd.

My body moved over the surface of the crowd, which tore off my dress while groping me.

As I reached the back of the audience, the five sisters intervened and embraced my exposed body.

By symbolically becoming a woman, the ritual allowed man to enhance his masculinity and develop greater empathy. Then, making love puts us in touch with a divine state.

The act of this love to women made me sense a connection to a godly presence that is universal.

My deepest longing becomes the foundation for love and creation.

I began the day by integrating tattvik tides into my exercises, and I could already feel a mature rhythm in my being.

I challenged myself blindfolded, while my eyes remained fixed on the shapes of my imagination.

Among the variety of tattvik shapes, the representation of air is a solid blue circle.

Earth is a transparent yellow square.

Fire looks like a red, triangular liquid.

Like a crescent of flaming silver, the water shimmered.

In the mind, the tattvic form resembles a dark egg.

It absorbs all light and is even darker than the surrounding darkness.

To complete this task, I visualize the symbols and relate them to other elemental designs.

It is important to replicate the images as accurately as possible and analyze the reasons for their deterioration.

By tracking and observing how the images deteriorate, I can understand other subconscious thought forms.

Later, the sisters led me to a cubicle with mirrored tile floors, walls, and ceiling.

Three chairs surrounded a triangular table at the focal point of the room.

On the table was a flat, round plate that looked like a coiled snake. I discovered that this was a game called Mehen.

I played a bit of Mehen with the twins.

It was difficult to distinguish who was causal and who was perpetual.

One twin is the other in the limited form of the eternal idea.

They seemed like four instead of a pair.

The twins embodied a perfect living square, treating all sides equally like Nzambi.

I participated in a couple of games. I fell short in the first, but won the second with the help of a lion.

These two events made me reconsider my participation in the works I was involved in.

Now the final ritual was taking place in the Telesterion, an acoustic pillared hall.

Throughout each ceremony, the dedicated team of sisters accompanied and guided me.

Like markings on a score, each sister represented a bar line, providing pitch, tempo, and duration to facilitate my experience.

The five daughters of Asclepius moved within the staff, shifting positions. Their perfect harmony generated a unicursal rhythm, instilling a sense of unconditional well-being.

At that moment, I stood before the god of the sun, the star that radiates growth, maturity, and harmony.

Apollo has a dark complexion.

He wears a reflective suit that reverberates with the surrounding surfaces. In his wife’s hands, a harp resonated with soothing melodies as he played the saxophone.

Many birds fluttered around him as he played.

The final stage of the ritual involves offering a song to the radiant sun, which fills the atmosphere with harmonious melodies.

The star embodies the force that drives people in their pursuit of well-being, intelligence, and benevolence.

Keeping music in our hearts aligns all the chords around the goddess.

This connection reminds us of our deep philosophical connection with nature and its impact on our well-being.