IX Art Park
You slip free of downtown stress and wander into IX Art Park. Murals stretch across the walls like comic books come to life — a kaleidoscope of colors, eyes, animals, and strange slogans. The air hums with fryer oil and cilantro from the food trucks lining the lot.
A lone synth player works the stage, bathed in neon light, conjuring sounds that are not quite music but not quite noise. Wobbly bass lines rumble in your chest as kids dance freely in front of the stage, sticky with lemonade.
It feels alive. Weird. Charlottesville at its best.
And then you notice him.
A man in a Dickie’s work shirt stands at the edge of the crowd, watching you. A name patch on his shirt says Beer Daddy. He doesn’t smile, but he isn’t threatening either. Just… patient.
When you finally meet his eyes, he leans closer and asks in a voice low enough for only you to hear:
“Would you like to visit The Saints?”
The murals seem to shift around you. The synth music deepens into something cavernous. For a moment, you wonder if this is still a food truck lot, or if you’ve already stepped sideways into some hidden world.
Do you:
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