For our first spine-tingling installment, we’re diving deep into the eerie saga of Molly, a business owner entangled in the shadowy labyrinth of her own brand. So, pull up a chair and light a candle, because we’re about to explore a tale that serves as a stark warning: sometimes, when you gaze into the abyss, the abyss gazes back at you.
Molly Thompson lived in a sleepy town where even the winds whispered secrets. She ran “Molly’s Marvelous Munchies,” a catering service that had become the soul of every local gathering. While her hands crafted culinary delights, her heart built dreams for her young daughter. For now, Molly was a local hero in a place where “viral” usually meant the flu, but she harbored visions of her fork-and-spoon logo illuminating Times Square one day.
On a stormy night, under the glow of her vintage laptop that had seen better days and younger fingers—Molly stumbled upon an enigmatic online rebranding service. It was so obscure it seemed to exist in another dimension. There were no reviews, no testimonials—just a glaring “Begin Your Rebrand” button that seemed to pulsate on the screen. As her cursor hovered over it, it felt as though the button itself was pulling her click toward it.
“What’s the worst that can happen? It’s just a brand, right?” she whispered to the shadows lurking in the room around her, forgetting that sometimes a brand is woven into the fabric of your very being. As she clicked, a single light bulb in her room flickered and died.
The email arrived with a sound that seemed more like a distant scream than a notification. “Weird,” she whispered, simultaneously tilting her head and bunching her eyebrows together as if trying to solve a riddle. A subtle shiver ran down her spine.
She opened the email.
A twisted fork logo. “Innovative? Maybe edgy?” she thought, ignoring the chill slowly crawling over her. The design was professional but disconcerting, like a smiling face with eyes that didn’t match.
Her eyes narrowed at the screen as if it would come to life and explain itself. Molly hesitated and considered not using it, then chided herself, “You’re just tired, that’s all.” She hit ‘send’ to the local printer, and updated her marketing materials while her daughter slept peacefully upstairs, unaware of the transformation underway.
At first, subtle whispers of unease floated in the air; then sidelong glances replaced the friendly nods. Eventually, people began to avoid not just her van with its unsettling new logo but Molly herself, as though her very presence had become a curse
Then there was her daughter. That precious little soul who usually ran into her arms at the end of the day now hesitated at the door, her eyes questioning. One evening, Molly overheard her daughter whispering to her stuffed animals, “Mommy’s different. I don’t like the new Mommy.” Molly entered the room, smiling to assure her everything was fine. Yet when her eyes met her daughter’s, she saw a glimmer of fear—fear where there had once been unconditional love and trust. It was as if the ominous brand had cast its shadow not just over Molly’s business but had extended its dark tendrils into the innocence of her home.
Vegetables seemed duller, the aroma of spices less vibrant—her very senses were rejecting the world around her, much like the world around her was rejecting her brand.
Molly kept revisiting the glaring “Begin Your Rebrand” button in hopes that she could dig herself out of this hole, but each rebrand morphed into something more and more sinister. Every new logo twisted into increasingly dark shapes. Business kept dwindling, and so did her sense of self.
Cornered and desperate to save what was left of her business and her unraveling sanity, she returned to her laptop. The storm outside mirrored her inner chaos. Frustrated and furious, she clicked “Begin Your Rebrand” again.
When she clicked on the newest logo design, it was like staring into a vortex that seemed to absorb the very light around it. The swirling darkness on the screen captivated her, pulling her in like quicksand. Just as she felt on the brink of being consumed by it, as if her very essence was about to merge with this digital black hole, she snapped her laptop shut.
“Enough,” she whispered hoarsely, as if speaking it louder would attract dark forces. She knew her brand was cursed, and she was its final victim.
In a last act of desperation, Molly dug through her digital archives for an escape route. All she found was an abyss darker than anything she had ever known. As her essence seemed to dissolve into that digital void, she knew she had become the last victim of her cursed brand. Her laptop snapped shut for the final time, the screen as dark as her fate.
The next morning, her daughter awoke to an empty house, an eerie silence enveloping her. As she stepped into her mother’s workspace, the girl felt an unshakable void where her mother’s love and warmth used to fill the air. The room felt like a hollow shell, as if it too had been consumed by the digital abyss that took Molly.
For the first time, the little girl felt truly alone, haunted by a lifeless screen.
Ah, dear listeners, let Molly’s tale be a cautionary one. For in the world of branding, not all that glitters is gold, and sometimes, the darkness consumes even the brightest of souls. Don’t let your brand’s story turn into a cautionary tale like Molly’s. Know your strategy, know your audience, and choose your designer wisely. Ready to illuminate your brand’s path? Book a brand design session with me today.
Carl
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