But the cipher hungers for lives, no matter how derelict, and in a way the ending is foretold. If anything the only real flaw in Koja's book is that it is too relentlessly bleak, too scummy, too hopeless characters bicker and bite, sex is a joyless spasm, Nicholas an alienated, near-unsympathetic loser and Nakota a bitch without the goddess. Until the local art-world poseurs get wind of something strange going on through Nakota, and start haranguing Nicholas to show them what he's doing, what's he got in there, can we see too? They all find out, because the Funhole is calling him from its deeps, not music but the elegant drone of bodily organs.
![the cipher kathe koja spoiler the cipher kathe koja spoiler](https://inkheistcom.files.wordpress.com/2020/01/thecipher.png)
#The cipher kathe koja spoiler movie#
Finally they lower down a camcorder (a funny dated bit is how difficult it is for them to actually get a camcorder) and when they watch the recording they see s omething like bloody stalks, caressing the screen like hands behind the glass, a figure carving itself.Īnd this home movie that Nakota can't stop watching ( "You're watching that like porno"), and Nicholas accidentally gets his hand in there, and now there's a weeping seeping cipher in his hand, and his empty, aimless life is going down, down, down. All come back monstrously deformed and mostly dead. First, a jar of insects goes down into it then a mouse. Nakota, conniving, manipulative, angular, and demanding, constantly pressures Nicholas to fuck with the Funhole, to test their limits.
![the cipher kathe koja spoiler the cipher kathe koja spoiler](https://bldaniels.files.wordpress.com/2018/05/341930.jpg)
They dub it "the Funhole" (Koja's original title for the novel) but it is anything but fun it is a locus of obsession and transformation.
![the cipher kathe koja spoiler the cipher kathe koja spoiler](https://kbimages1-a.akamaihd.net/3ca14814-cf76-49ff-81dd-a744577ab682/1200/1200/False/last-days-4.jpg)
Rabbithole, some strange motherfucking wonderland, you bet. Pure black and the sense of pulsation, especially when you looked at it too closely, the sense of something not living but alive, not even something but some - process. Maybe a foot in diameter, maybe a little more. Not darkness, not the absence of light but living black.