A choose-your-own-adventure novel

path_of_undeath @ 2007-12-01T13:57:00

2007-12-01T20:07:56Z

PATH OF UNDEATH

Hello and welcome to smeddley's successful attempt at NaNoWriMo 2007. Please note that this is a choose-your-own-adventure style novel - DO NOT read the entries in order. There are links at the bottom of each snippet. Make your selection and continue on your chosen path.

Some fun facts:

The story is just a hair over 51,000 words. There are 138 different 'snippets' of story, and 48 unique endings. I have neither the time nor the inclination to figure out how many unique story lines there are, but I can tell you there are a few opportunities for the story to be 'endless'.

I wrote 46,000 of those words in the last 5 days of November. Talk about procrastination! That's fair warning that it's not polished, there are typos, and it's really quite silly in places.

Feel free to leave comments when you see problems, I will edit (FYI, if it's a 'correction only' comment, I will delete it after I fix the problem, so I can keep track of what I've done!). And leave me a comment if you enjoy it, because that give me warm fuzzies. And you can tell me it sucks, too, if that's what you think.

If you really feel the need to 'cheat' or want to make sure you've explored it all, I have a flowchart of the storybits here. It's kinda hard to read, but I think you can at least get the idea.

If you're ready to go, just...

CLICK HERE

path_of_undeath @ 2007-12-01T13:07:00

2007-12-01T19:07:30Z

You raise the hockey stick high above your head, let out a primal scream, and charge the squirrels. You swing the stick wildly, but the squirrels are fast, and leap nimbly from counter to counter and evading the end of the wildly flailing stick. You can hear them chittering as they circle you in ever-decreasing circles. Suddenly you feel their bushy tails start to brush up against you, tickling the back of your neck.

You whirl around, but they just keep moving. Dropping the stick, you reach out blindly, snagging a fuzzy tail in your hands and holding on. The squirrel yanks you off your feet, but you at least have the satisfaction of hearing it chitter in pain right before you are hit over the back of the head with something rather heavy.

You slump to the floor, and as you slip into unconsciousness you feel them closing in on you. You are positive you are about to be eaten alive, but they simply truss you up (Where, exactly, were they hiding the ropes, you wonder. Do they have pockets in their fur?) and carry you out to the backyard and up a tree. You have an odd shrinking feeling as they shove you through a knothole, and you realize that you have shrunk and are small enough to pass into the trunk of the tree. Then you really pass out.

When you wake up you are in a small wooden jail cell, with twigs and vines as bars. Sunlight is streaming through the tiny hole in the ceiling, and your head is throbbing. There’s a squirrel sitting outside of the cell, casually reading a newspaper. You squint at it, but the writing is like nothing you’ve ever seen before.

Do you talk to the guard? Click HERE.
Do you try to escape? Click HERE.

path_of_undeath @ 2007-12-01T13:06:00

2007-12-01T19:06:38Z

You glance around the cell again, looking for anything you can use to help yourself break out of this tree prison. You stretch yourself as far as you can and find that you can just hook your fingers on the lip of the window cut in the ceiling. You jump, and grab on. The hole is small, but you are determined, and you squeeze yourself through. Unfortunately, the roof has a much steeper pitch than you anticipate, and you find yourself sliding quickly towards the edge. You grab blindly for a twig, and for a split second it halts your descent. Then it snaps, and you find yourself plummeting over the edge.

You will yourself not to look down, as if you can retain the cartoon-like suspension if you just don’t realize there’s nothing under you. But physics and the laws of gravity are not to be ignored, and you feel the wind rustling past as you plummet towards earth… or wherever you are. Oddly, you don’t feel panicked. Perhaps because it all seems so unreal it must be a dream. Yes, that’s it, it must be a dream. You close your eyes and concentrate on the feel of the wind whistling past your ears, the sense of near-weightlessness, and the freedom of free-fall. You peek down and see the ground rushing up to meet you. You think, ‘if I could only miss the ground, I’d be flying!’ and resolve to try.

As the ground rushes closer and closer, you concentrate hard on missing it. It is not easy, there’s a lot of ground there and it would take a really uncoordinated person to manage to miss it, but you give it your best effort.

Do you miss the ground? Click HERE.
Do you hit the ground? Click HERE.

path_of_undeath @ 2007-12-01T13:05:00

2007-12-01T19:05:54Z

You hit the ground with a jerk, and suddenly find yourself sitting in bed. Your heart is racing and you hands are sweating, and the phone is ringing shrilly. You pick up the receiver and croak, “Hello?”

“You do realize the meeting started ten minutes ago?” Your boss’s voice is cold and hard.

“Yeah, I… no… what time is it?” You fumble for the beside clock. “I wasn’t feeling well, and I…”

“No excuses! Get yourself in here is 30 minutes or you are fired!”

“But my car…”

“I said no excuses.” There was a click, and the line went dead. You set down the receiver and drag yourself out of bed and into the shower. After hastily dragging on some clothes, you rush to the bus stop.

You tear around the corner just in time to see the back of the bus disappearing around the next bend. You slump dejectedly, and slowly walk the rest of the way to the bus stop to wait for the next bus. You are going to be late to the meeting, but there’s nothing you can do about it now.

You sit down on the bench next to Michelle, who is staring out into the street at a very large red splatter. “You just miss the bus, too?” you ask.

“It never stopped,” she replied absent-mindedly.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, it came barreling down the street and never even stopped, even though I was standing here and Chris was in the road.”

“Chris… that annoyingly perky, happy morning person that works on the third floor?”

“That’s the one,” she said, nodding to the big red splotch.”

“Huh,” you reply. “What was Chris doing in the middle of the street?”

Michelle just shrugged. “I thought the bus would stop and I was just so annoyed…”

“You didn’t! Really? And the bus didn’t even slow down? That’s odd.”

“Yeah, I thought that was kind of strange. Still, I guess that means there’s an opening, do you think I can get the job? It is a bit of a pay raise, at any rate. And John seems to like my work, so I may have an in.”

“I think you’d at least be a top contender, if no a shoe-in,” you reply. “Why are there no cars on the road?”

You both stare at the empty road for a few seconds. Normally by this time there were plenty of cars and a bunch of pedestrians. Even the birds were quiet.

“Is it a holiday? Did I miss something?” Michelle asks. “I mean, this is starting to creep me out. you?”

“A little. Something is wrong – was there anything on the news this morning?”

“My cable was out, I have no idea.”

Do you sit and wait for the next bus? Click HERE.
Do you get up and go in search of news or other people? Click HERE.

path_of_undeath @ 2007-12-01T13:00:00

2007-12-01T19:01:00Z

You pick the left trail and head down it. The caves can’t be too far, if you recall, the tour was only an hour long. Or was it longer, but only seemed to fly by because of the scenery? You stare up into the leaves of the tall, towering oaks and admire a blue jay chirping away, probably calling all the other blue jays and telling them of the strange two-legged creature invading their domain. In the distance you hear the grating call of a crow. You focus back on the path, keeping a wary eye out for snakes and spiders, as well as poison ivy. You think you would recognize it, but you can’t be sure. You skirt anything that looks overly bush and has three leaves just to be on the safe side.

The sun is hot and you are getting decidedly crankier when you come to another fork in the trail. This time there are no trail markers, not even broken ones, and you worry that you might be on the wrong path. But you can almost smell the ocean, and you are still heading downwards, so you can’t be too far off course. And anything is better than climbing back up that hill. Worst case, you’ll find your way down to the beach and walk along it until you get to the caves.

Do you take the right trail? Click HERE.
Do you take the left trail? Click HERE

path_of_undeath @ 2007-12-01T13:00:00

2007-12-01T19:00:18Z

You decide to mix it up and pick the right trail this time Hopefully, despite the twist and turns of the trail, it will keep you heading straight down to the caves. They really can’t be much farther, you tell yourself as you force your stiffening legs to keep moving. You glance back up into the leaves of the tall, towering oaks, but this time you see the hulking form of buzzards perched in their branches. You shiver at the thought of becoming their next feast. Repressing that thought, you focus back on the path, still keeping a wary eye out for snakes and spiders and poison ivy.

The sun is getting hotter and you are getting decidedly crankier when you come to another fork in the trail. This time there are no trail markers, not even broken ones, and you worry that you might be on the wrong path. But you can almost smell the ocean, and you are still heading downwards, so you can’t be too far off course. And anything is better than climbing back up that hill. Worst case, you’ll find your way down to the beach and walk along it until you get to the caves.

Do you take the right trail? Click HERE.
Do you take the left trail? Click HERE

path_of_undeath @ 2007-12-01T12:58:00

2007-12-01T18:58:42Z

You pick the right trail and head down it. The caves can’t be too far, if you recall, the tour was only an hour long. Or was it longer, but only seemed to fly by because of the scenery? You stare up into the leaves of the tall, towering oaks and admire a robin chirping away, probably calling all the other robins and telling them of the strange two-legged creature invading their domain. In the distance you hear the soft call of a dove. You focus back on the path, keeping a wary eye out for snakes and spiders, as well as poison ivy. You think you would recognize it, but you can’t be sure. You skirt anything that looks overly bush and has three leaves just to be on the safe side.

The sun is hot and you are getting decidedly crankier when you come to another fork in the trail. This time there are no trail markers, not even broken ones, and you worry that you might be on the wrong path. But you can almost smell the ocean, and you are still heading downwards, so you can’t be too far off course. And anything is better than climbing back up that hill. Worst case, you’ll find your way down to the beach and walk along it until you get to the caves.

Do you take the right trail? Click HERE.
Do you take the left trail? Click HERE

path_of_undeath @ 2007-12-01T12:57:00

2007-12-01T18:57:42Z

You decide to be consistent and pick the right trail again. The caves really can’t be much farther, you tell yourself as you force your stiffening legs to keep moving. You glance back up into the leaves of the tall, towering oaks, but this time you see the hulking form of buzzards perched in their branches. You shiver at the thought of becoming their next feast. Repressing that thought, you focus back on the path, still keeping a wary eye out for snakes and spiders and poison ivy.

The sun is getting hotter and you are getting decidedly crankier when you come to a small opening in the forest, and in the center is a small cottage. There’s a gentle, lazy curl of smoke wafting up from the chimney, and as you creep closer you can hear a faint tap-tap-tap sound. Your creep close to the door, but there’s no other sound from inside. You definitely don’t remember this being on the tour, and have to admit you are almost certainly terribly lost.

On one hand, there might be someone in there that can help you. On the other hand, there might be a sadistic axe-wielding maniac in there.

Do you knock on the door? Click HERE
Do you walk away from the cottage and continue on the trail? Click HERE

path_of_undeath @ 2007-12-01T12:56:00

2007-12-01T18:56:13Z

You decide to mix it up and pick the left trail this time. Hopefully, despite the twist and turns of the trail, it will keep you heading straight down to the caves. They really can’t be much farther, you tell yourself as you force your stiffening legs to keep moving. You glance back up into the leaves of the tall, towering oaks, but there are no birds in sight. You imagine you see a black shadow flit among the branches, but it moves too fast for you to get a good look. You tell yourself it was all your imagination, and focus back on the path. The last thing you need to do is trip over an exposed tree root and twist an ankle.

The sun is getting hotter and you are getting decidedly crankier when you come to another fork in the trail. This time there are no trail markers, not even broken ones, and you worry that you might be on the wrong path. But you can almost smell the ocean, and you are still heading downwards, so you can’t be too far off course. And anything is better than climbing back up that hill. Worst case, you’ll find your way down to the beach and walk along it until you get to the caves.

Do you take the right trail? Click HERE.
Do you take the left trail? Click HERE

path_of_undeath @ 2007-12-01T12:54:00

2007-12-01T18:54:44Z

You think back to the last two turns you made – right and then left. If your theory of alternating them is correct, you need to go to the right. Without hesitation you set off down the trail. They really can’t be much farther, you tell yourself as you force your stiffening legs to keep moving. You glance back up into the leaves of the tall, towering oaks, You shiver at the thought of becoming their next feast. Repressing that thought, you focus back on the path, still keeping a wary eye out for snakes and spiders and poison ivy.

The sun is getting hotter and you are getting decidedly crankier when you come to another fork in the trail. This time there are no trail markers, not even broken ones, and you worry that you might be on the wrong path. But you can almost smell the ocean, and you are still heading downwards, so you can’t be too far off course. And anything is better than climbing back up that hill. Worst case, you’ll find your way down to the beach and walk along it until you get to the caves.

Do you take the right trail? Click HERE.
Do you take the left trail? Click HERE

path_of_undeath @ 2007-12-01T12:53:00

2007-12-01T18:53:17Z

You pick the left trail and set off. The caves really can’t be much farther, you tell yourself as you force your stiffening legs to keep moving. You glance back up into the leaves of the tall, towering oaks, and see that the clouds have moved in. Rain can’t be far off, and you hurry down the path, keeping an eye out for exposed tree roots and other forest dangers.

The rain is just starting to fall and you are getting decidedly chilled when you come to yet another fork in the trail. Again, there are no trail markers, not even broken ones, and you worry that you might be on the wrong path. But you can almost smell the ocean, and you are still heading downwards, so you can’t be too far off course. And anything is better than climbing back up that hill. Worst case, you’ll find your way down to the beach and walk along it until you get to the caves.

Do you take the right trail? Click HERE.
Do you take the left trail? Click HERE

path_of_undeath @ 2007-12-01T12:51:00

2007-12-01T18:51:30Z

You pick the left trail and set off. The caves really, really, really can’t be much farther, you tell yourself as you force your stiffening legs to keep moving. The rain is now starting to fall, fat, heavy drops that sting when they hit your exposed flesh. Though at least the temperature has dropped and the air is no longer so oppressive. It is still not pleasant, but you no longer feel like you are suffocating.

After a few more twists in the trail the trees open up and you see a huge rock formation in front of you. The caves! You’ve made it. The only problem is that there are two openings, and you have no idea which is the one that will lead down to the shore.

Do you try the right cave? Click HERE.
Do you try the left cave? Click HERE

path_of_undeath @ 2007-12-01T12:50:00

2007-12-01T18:50:23Z

You creep into the left cave cautiously, but there’s no one there. On the far back wall you can just make out what looks like writing. You edge forward carefully, eyes scanning the floor for booby traps.

Once you pick your way across the cave, you study writing on the wall of the cave. It makes absolutely no sense. It is in English, yes, but the sentence structure and word choice just makes it gibberish. It is as if someone on acid tried to replicate Jabberwocky and got it backwards – real words and no discernable meaning:

Oh beholden is tree stump
in glorious crepuscular cheese
Seek not the penguin’s beak and revel
dancing, spiteful, green moss
The caravan burbles magnificent
bright in the oven’s temperature
The dawn falls on its face bouncy
bunny tracks on gummy worm
Clasp the leaf, the river, hot
tissue white and brittle snakes
on the tip of never.

You stare at it, willing it to make sense. You read through it again, and again, but still, meaning eludes you. But it has to mean something, otherwise why would it be here.

“I just don’t get it,” you say out loud.

“Only the enlightened find meaning,” a voice says behind you.

You jump and whirl around. Standing not five feet from you is a tall man dressed all in black. Ninja black, complete with the face mask that covers everything except his eyes. At his waist is a black sheath, which presumably holds a long, pointy sword. You take a step back, but when you meet his eyes there is no malice in them, rather, he looks amused.

“Obviously, I am not nearly enlightened enough,” you say. “Because it looks like randomly picked words to me.”

“There is no true randomness in the universe,” he says. “Only unrecognized patterns.”

“No, I’m pretty sure there are a lot of random things going on right now. Random killings, for one. Have you seen the zombie hordes?”

“We have. But we believe it is all part of a greater pattern, and the time has not yet come for us to get involved.”

“In that case,” you start to say, but he cuts you off.

“Unless you can tell me the meaning of this poem,” he says. “If you can decipher its meaning, we will help you fight.”

“Who are you?”

“We are the Ninja of Tresephont. We secluded ourselves here years ago, training and meditating, for the time we were called by the enlightened one. It is foretold that one day a great leader will bring down the word of the gods and lead us into a battle for the very ”

You stare back at the poem on the wall. You have zero idea what it means, but you could really use the ninja's help in fighting the zombies. You could probably wing something, and if they don’t know what it means, either, you might be able to convince them.

Do you make something up in hopes of convincing them to fight with you? Click HERE.
Do you tell the truth and say you don’t know? Click HERE.

path_of_undeath @ 2007-12-01T12:49:00

2007-12-01T18:49:30Z

You consider lying, but decide that honesty is always the best policy. Besides, that is one wicked-looking sword he has strapped to his waist.

“I have no idea,” you say.

He nods. “The truth you seek, the answers, are not to be found here.”

“Well, that’s helpful,” you say sarcastically.

“But I know where you can find the answers you seek.”

“Do those answers come with a magic zombie-killing bullet?”

“Perhaps,” he answers enigmatically. “There is a cottage just down the trail. I think you ought to head there.”

“Which trail? There are hundred of them out there.”

He leads you outside and points you to the start of a trail. With a heavy sigh, you set out along it. It’s not long before you come to a small opening in the forest, and in the center is a small cottage. There’s a gentle, lazy curl of smoke wafting up from the chimney, and as you creep closer you can hear a faint tap-tap-tap sound. Your creep close to the door, but there’s no other sound form inside. Remembering what the ninja said, you raise a hand to knock, then hesitate. There’s no reason to believe he’s telling you the complete truth. You can see another trail at the far end of the clearing, and you could just give the cottage a miss and see if you can’t get down to the beach. You’re positive you can find your way to the caves that were on the tour from there.

Do you knock on the door? Click HERE
Do you walk away from the cottage and continue on the trail? Click HERE

path_of_undeath @ 2007-12-01T12:48:00

2007-12-01T18:48:47Z

Considering your recent experiences with the zombies and all, you decide not to risk knocking. If whatever is in there is hostile, you are unarmed and have no means of escape. Better to play it safe and continue on down the trail.

You round the next bend and see the most enormous flower you have ever seen blocking the path. It is white and sparkly, shaped rather like an orchid. No smell, though, and you are just about to try to edge around it when a tinny voice squeaks, “Hello and welcome to the flower of regret! How may we be of service?”

Your head jerks up and you see a small fairy hovering just over the top of the flower. She’s dressed in a lovely shade of aqua, and her gossamer wings flutter faster than the wings of a hummingbird to keep her aloft. Her long, dark hair shimmers in the sunlight.

“Regret?” you ask. It’s the only word that registered over the shock of seeing a real live fairy. “I regret getting lost, for sure, but considering the day I’ve had, I think I mostly regret ever getting out of bed today,” you say bitterly.

“Then you’ve come to the right place. One do-over per person, and Fairy Wishes, Inc, is not responsible for you making the same boneheaded mistakes again. However, you will not remember your previous decisions, so this is a real possibility. We wish you all the luck and have a nicer day this time around.” And with that, she hops up and down on the stamen of the flower, releasing a large cloud of sweet-smelling dust. Your head begins to swim and you feel yourself falling… and suddenly, you’re standing in a dark, deserted alleyway. You set off towards what you hope is the nearest street.

Suddenly, you hear footsteps gaining on you, following you down the dark, twisting alleyway. You push past heaping carts of refuse and duck into a nearby doorway. The footsteps hesitate, then slowly approach your makeshift hiding place. You scramble desperately for the doorknob, fumbling with it behind your back as your eyes search the misty darkness for the creature you know is stalking you. To your immense relief, the door opens easily and soundlessly, and you slide inside, closing and bolting the door behind you.

You turn into the empty room and are surprised to find it brightly lit, hung with garish banners and decorated with bright colors. An elephant walks in wearing a tutu and wanders up to you, holding out a tropical drink on a platter. You politely take it, and sip the orange concoction, barely controlling your gag reflex as the taste of sour milk hits your tongue. It nods, a half-encouraging gesture and half-threatening, and you choke down the rest of the drink. Suddenly, the door to the alley bursts open, and a tiny wind-up car comes barreling in.

You jump to the side and the car barely misses you as it roars past, coming to a stop in the middle of the room. Fifteen monkeys and your fifth grade teacher pile out and immediately scramble up onto the trapeze you hadn’t noticed. Before they can begin the show, though, the door to the alley opens once more and the zombie comes staggering in. You turn to run once more, but your feet are stuck to the floor – no, worse than that – your feet are sinking into the floor. You are up to your waist in floor before the zombie is half-way across the room, and as you slide further down it seems to move in slow motion, so your head slips out of sight just before it can get its stinking, rotting hands on you.

You hang in utter darkness for a moment, then feel yourself touch down on a feather-soft surface, leaning slightly back. A faint neon sign bearing the word ‘penchaft’ flicks on in the distance, illuminating the room in a faint, diffuse glow. In the dim light you can see dozens of scantily clad men and women, all similarly reclined and looking extremely peaceful. You settle in to your feather-soft bed and close your eyes, feeling sleep tugging at you. Faintly you begin to hear a discordant beeping sound, harsh and unwelcome in your cocoon of softness. The sound grows in volume and pitch until you are jolted into wakefulness, scrabbling for the button on your alarm clock.

You fumble with the alarm button, smacking at it several times before you successfully connect with the snooze button. As the beeping stops, you try to will yourself to get up, but your limbs refuse to obey your brain’s half-hearted commands. Your last thought is, “ten more minutes” before you drift back off.

You re-enter the alleyway, this time with a llama walking beside you. You can’t hear or see the zombie, but there is the distant trumpeting of elephants. The llama looks at you balefully and melts into a giant ice cream cone. You turn around and suddenly you are seated at a local diner, a large banana split in front of you. A parrot sits on the table opposite, holding up ink blots with one feathery wing.

“What do you see in this one?” it asks as you take a spoonful of ice cream.

“Belgian monks competing in a snowboarding competition.” you answer, putting a heaping spoonful of ice cream in your mouth. It tastes like llama, which, surprisingly, you find you like. You can’t describe the flavor, but it is oddly fruity. And you are not at all sure why you know what llama tastes like, but the parrot is brandishing another ink blot and you let the thought drift away.

“That’s, um… a gaggle of Canadian Geese planning a bank robbery.”

The parrot clicks his beak and emits and ear-splitting shriek. You jerk violently and find yourself staring at the face of your alarm clock, which is now about two millimeters from your face. You slap down on the snooze button and start your morning pep-talk.

“You can get up, really, it is not hard. Just slide out of bed. Okay, move your right leg, good, it is poking out of the covers. Now, let it swing down and touch the floor. Okay, halfway there. You can do it. You have to do it. You can’t be late again, and you know it. It doesn’t look good. Now, pull yourself up. There you go, you are sitting up! Now, just… no no no! Don’t fall back, c’mon, sit up, throw off those covers and get moving!”

You manage to sit up, one leg dangling off the edge of the bed. You yawn, and let your head drop to your chest. Your eyes flutter closed, and you jerk them back open. You try to get out of bed, but can’t seem to muster the energy. The alarm clock is off, and if you fall back asleep you are doomed, but you can’t seem to heave yourself out of bed!

You gather up your strength and resolve and make one last, great effort to force yourself out of bed.

Do you get up and head into work? Click HERE
Do you get up, but decide to call in sick and just stay at home? Click HERE.
Do you fall back asleep? Click HERE

path_of_undeath @ 2007-12-01T12:47:00

2007-12-01T18:47:18Z

With a deep breath you step forward and knock. The door swings open as you do so, and you can see a woman sitting at a computer, typing frantically. She looks up as the door swings open and jumps visibly at the sight of you.

“Oh!,” she cries. “I didn’t realize you were still… oh, this is embarrassing, you see… it’s not really going anywhere, and I’m afraid I’m already at,” she checks something on her computer. “51,381. So I really don’t need to prolong this storyline. I’m sorry.”

“What are you talking about?” you ask, as you feel yourself begin to fade away.

“I’m saying you are about to cease to be, because the only other words I’m going to type are…

THE END

path_of_undeath @ 2007-11-30T23:57:00

2007-12-01T05:57:06Z

You decide it is better to be safe than sorry, and the bus driver really does not look well. What if he drove the bus into a street light? On one hand, it’d be a great excuse for missing the meeting. On the other hand, you’d probably be critically injured, if not dead. Being alive and jobless edges out dead and not fired by a hair.

Michelle looks relieved that you’ve decided to forgo the bus, and sits back down on the bench.

“I guess we have to find another way to work,” she says, not looking too concerned.

You glance up and down the vacant street. “I was going to suggest catching a cab, but…” You gesture out to the road.

“Yeah, that’s pretty odd, don’t you think? I mean, this whole day feels wrong. I keep feeling like I missed some big, important announcement. Like there’s a plague or war or something, and that’s why no one is going to work today. No one except you, me, and Chris.” She waved a hand at the red blob in the road. “But that over-achiever would have run through a mine field past lepers to get to work on time. So that hardly counts.”

“Well, we can’t just sit here all day,” you sigh. “Or, we can, but it seems kind of pointless. I guess we should just start walking. We should get to work in about an hour, if we don’t dawdle.”

“Do you even want to bother going in to work? We’re already late, and there just has to be something weird going on. Don’t you think we should investigate?”

“Investigate how?” you ask.

“I don’t know, go to a coffee shop or something where we can see some news? Run by a news stand?”

Do you walk to work? Click HERE.
Do you wander off to find a coffee shop or news stand? Click HERE.

path_of_undeath @ 2007-11-30T23:56:00

2007-12-01T05:56:13Z

“You are just being completely paranoid,” you tell Michelle. You drag yourself up the annoying steep stairs, deposit the appropriate change and wander towards the back of the bus in search of an open seat. You hear Michelle follow you, and you sit down in a double seat. She sits down next to you, holding herself very still.

“You really don’t think there’s something odd about the driver?” she asks.

“Well, yes, but I tend to think that about any bus driver,” you say. “I mean, how could you just drive a bus all day? Dealing with annoying passengers, bad drivers, and just the monotony of it all… it’d drive me around the bend. No pun intended.”

“Okay, but this bus driver seems even odder than usual,” she whispers out of the corner of her mouth. “And look at the other passengers. They’re not even moving. It is so quiet in here, like…”

“A library?” you ask, pulling a book out of your bag.

“I was going to say like they’re zombies, but…” She pauses and chews on her lip. Then she gives a big sigh, closes her eyes and settles back into her seat.

The ride is uneventful, though by the time you get to the office building the lack of any noise on the bus did has you a little spooked. It is unnatural, even for non-morning people to be so lifeless. Climbing down out of the bus, you pause on the sidewalk. Michelle steps out next to you.

“Where are all the people?” you ask. The sidewalk is deserted. “Are we that late?”

“Even so, there should be people out here – going to business meetings, that sort of thing.”

“Huh,” you say, at a loss for anything witty. Michelle shrugs, and walks into the building. You watch her go, still rooted to the sidewalk.

Do you go into the building? Click HERE.
Do you skip work and try to figure out what’s going on? Click HERE.

path_of_undeath @ 2007-11-30T23:55:00

2007-12-01T05:55:25Z

You both sit in silence for the next fifteen minutes, waiting patiently for the next bus. You glance at your watch and are just about to get up to leave when another bus turns the corner at the far end of the block and trundles up to the bus stop, opening the doors just as it pulls up to the bench. The driver turns a vacant stare on you and grunts.

You look at Michelle, who is staring at the bus driver. Leaning towards her you see what has caught her eye – on the driver’s left cheek a strip of flesh is hanging down, dried blood congealing in rivulets on his face and neck. You repress a shudder and take a hesitant step towards the door.

Michelle grabs your arm. “Something is definitely not right here,” she whispers.

Do you get on the bus anyway? Click HERE.
Do you wave the bus driver on? Click HERE.

path_of_undeath @ 2007-11-30T23:51:00

2007-12-01T05:51:47Z

You tear around the corner just in time to see the back of the bus disappearing around the next bend. You slump dejectedly, and slowly walk the rest of the way to the bus stop to wait for the next bus. You are going to be late to the meeting, but there’s nothing you can do about it now.

You sit down on the bench next to Michelle, who is staring out into the street at a very large red splatter. “You just miss the bus, too?” you ask.

“It never stopped,” she replies absent-mindedly.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, it came barreling down the street and never even stopped, even though I was standing here and Chris was in the road.”

“Chris… that annoyingly perky, happy morning person that works on the third floor?”

“That’s the one,” she says, nodding to the big red splotch.

“Huh,” you reply. “What was Chris doing in the middle of the street?”

Michelle just shrugs. “I thought the bus would stop and I was just so annoyed…”

“You didn’t! Really? And the bus didn’t even slow down? That’s odd.”

“Yeah, I thought that was kind of strange. Still, I guess that means there’s an opening, do you think I can get the job? It is a bit of a pay raise, at any rate. And John seems to like my work, so I may have an in.”

“I think you’d at least be a top contender, if noy a shoe-in,” you reply. “Why are there no cars on the road?”

You both stare at the empty road for a few seconds. Normally by this time there were plenty of cars and a bunch of pedestrians. Even the birds are quiet.

“Is it a holiday? Did I miss something?” Michelle asks. “I mean, this is starting to creep me out. You?”

“A little. Something is wrong – was there anything on the news this morning?”

“My cable was out, I have no idea.”

Do you sit and wait for the next bus? Click HERE.
Do you get up and go in search of news or other people? Click HERE.

path_of_undeath @ 2007-11-30T23:46:00

2007-12-01T05:46:12Z

You decide there is no way you can make yourself get out of bed. Grabbing the phone off the nightstand you dial your boss’s number, being careful not to clear your throat so you can take full advantage of ‘morning voice’. There’s no answer, but you leave what you hope is a suitably pathetic message telling him that you are so very sorry, and horribly upset that you will have to miss the meeting, but you feel just dreadful and would hate to pass on this nasty bug to your coworkers or – even worse – the clients.

You putter around the house for awhile, doing the dishes and tidying. It is actually shaping up to be quite a nice day off, and you try to feel guilty about not being at work – but after what they put you through last week, you figure they owe you a day off. A mental health day, you tell yourself.

Once all the laundry is done, folded, and put away, and the kitchen is clean and everything is neat and organized (or, at least, as neat and organized as it ever is, you sit down on the couch to watch some television. Sadly, the only things on are game shows and soap operas, and neither is holding your attention. To your horror, you are starting to feel a bit ill. You decide to head to bed and try to ward it off, and after making yourself a nice, hot cup of tea you trundle up to bed.

Sometime later, you are awakened by a sound. You can’t identify it right off, but the third time you hear it you do recognize it – it is the sound of one of the kitchen chairs being pushed – no, dragged across the kitchen floor. A cross between a dull rumble and a high-pitched squeak.

Do you get up to investigate? Click HERE.
Do you ignore the noise and stay in bed? Click HERE.

path_of_undeath @ 2007-11-30T23:41:00

2007-12-01T05:41:54Z

You decide it is just the house settling, and decide to go back to sleep. If it is a murderer, they can just as easily kill you awake as they can asleep. With a yawn, you settle back into your pillows and sink into a deep sleep. You can’t even muster the energy to care that you might be fired, you will deal with that tomorrow. Or the next day. Maybe you should call in, you think sleepily. But sleep claims you before you can follow that train of thought any further.

The next time you wake up, it is pitch black in the room, and you have an eerie feeling you are not alone. You strain your eyes, but you can’t see anything. This suddenly strikes you as odd, because there’s a street light right outside your window and normally the inside of your bedroom is lit up like a Vegas casino. You never admit it, but that’s actually a comfort, as you haven’t been able to sleep in complete darkness since that one summer at camp…

You feel the panic start to well up, and you reach over to fumble with the bedside lamp, but you are shaking so hard you knock it off the table and it lands on the carpet with a soft *thump*. A soft chuckle comes from the vicinity of the end of the bed. You shudder, and press yourself deeper into the mattress.

The room is suddenly bathed in a diffuse blue light, and you can see a wizened old man standing at the end of your bed. He smiles kindly, and clears his throat.

“Hello, please don’t be afraid. I mean, I know that’s a completely stupid thing to say when you suddenly find some stranger standing in your room, but… still, I mean you no harm. Not purposefully. You could come to harm, I suppose, it is only fair to disclose that. I wouldn’t want you going into this without knowing all the facts, that would be cruel. And I am not cruel. Desperate, perhaps, but not cruel. And rambling. Definitely rambling. So sorry, beg your pardon, my name is Marlin.”

“As in the fish?” Your dazed brain latches on to the one thing it comprehended.

He sighs. “Yes, as in the fish.”

“I am sorry, I am sure you get that a lot. I don’t mean to be rude…”

“Oh, no, it is okay, really. And I am the one who’s rude, popping in to your bedroom like this. I mean, talk about an invasion of privacy, but I really couldn’t think of any way to contact you without too much fuss, and we really do want to keep this quiet. No need to advertise it to the world, you know. Don’t want mass panic. That would be messy. And probably lead to more deaths. We don’t need another incident like…” he trails off and shudders delicately.

“Um… what is this all about?”

“Oh, right, right, so sorry! It is about the werewolves. And the vampires. Both, really, though separately. We need your help. One or the other, really, we believe you’d be equally talented at both.” He stared at you expectantly.

“You want me to fight werewolves? Or vampires?”

“Yes,” he nodded vehemently. “Although we prefer the term ‘Diplomatic Relations Specialist’ – we do strive for non-violent solutions.”

“Like… what?”

“Well, as long as they stay in their reality, we’re all good. It is much like the countries of Earth respecting each other’s borders. Dead simple and easy in theory, but of course the reality gets a bit prickly.”

“And that’s where I come in how?”

“Oh,” he waves his hand vaguely. “Bloodlines and talents and whatnot, it is all very complicated. But I have a meeting in ten, so could you let me know now?”

“Now? I don’t even get time to think about it?”

“Dreadfully, dreadfully sorry, but we’re on a tight schedule and I really do need to know now.”

Do you decide to become a ‘Diplomatic Relations Specialist’ in the vampire-relations office? Click HERE.
Do you decide to become a ‘Diplomatic Relations Specialist’ in the werewolf-relations office? Click HERE.
Do you decline to help? Click HERE.

path_of_undeath @ 2007-11-30T23:36:00

2007-12-01T05:36:43Z

You roll out of the warm cocoon of your blankets and creep towards the bedroom door. You press your ear against it, straining to hear any further sounds from downstairs. After a moment, the noise comes again. You pull back from the door and think about what to do. It could just be the house settling, you rationalize. But then, it could be an intruder. You stand still for another moment, and the sound comes again. You make up your mind to go investigate, just to set your mind at ease, and look around for something to use as a weapon – just in case.

If you get a gun out of your bedside tables, click HERE.
If you get a hockey stick out of your closet, click HERE.
If you get a softball bat out of your closet, click HERE.
If you decide to go down unarmed, click HERE.

path_of_undeath @ 2007-11-30T23:35:00

2007-12-01T05:35:20Z

You stand in the center of the room, looking about wildly for a weapon. You consider and discard a dozen ideas – the large vase on the dresser, the DVD player, the large unabridged dictionary (you discard this one because you are not sure you could even lift it, let alone use it effectively as a weapon) – before you remember the hockey stick in the closet. You haven’t played in years, but are suddenly glad you never got rid of it. Delving into the back of your closet, you toss aside clothes and shoes until you finally uncover it, propped in the back corner. Grasping it in both hands, you creep to the bedroom door and press your ear against it. The scraping and rustling noise from downstairs continues. As you reach down with one hand to open the door, the hockey stick unbalances and clunks against the door. You freeze, but the noises from downstairs continue uninterrupted.

Easing the door open, you creep slowly down the stairs and press yourself up against the hallway wall, peering cautiously around the corner. You freeze, then blink rapidly several times. Still, you can’t believe what you are seeing. Standing around the island, chowing down on the food from your refrigerator, are three gigantic squirrels. And not just like, ‘oh my god, those are really large squirrels, they must eat a whole lot of nuts’ kind of large, but like mutant, man-sized large.

You hesitate, unsure what to do. What does one do when they find giant, mutant squirrels in one’s kitchen?

If you turn around and go back to your bedroom, click HERE.
If you attack the squirrels, click HERE.

path_of_undeath @ 2007-11-30T23:27:00

2007-12-01T05:27:08Z

You decide you might as well attempt to communicate, so you walk up to the bars of the cell and clear your throat loudly. The squirrel looks up and jumps slightly when it sees you up and about, but regains its composure quickly and nods brusquely at you. It turns to a knothole on the wall and chitters into it. Then it gets up and goes to a nearby counter, bringing you a glass of water. You drink it thankfully, the cool, sweet water soothing your parched throat. Draining the glass, you hand it back to the squirrel. It holds it up in a questioning gesture, and you nod eagerly. It refills the glass and you drain that one as well, though you decline a third.

Suddenly a door that was hidden in the whirls of the tree’s wood grain opened. A very short, fluffy squirrel wearing a polished rock necklace stepped through and chittered at the guard squirrel for a moment. They could be talking about the last Browns game for all you know, but the conversation seems amiable enough. You hope that bodes well.

The new squirrel turns to you and says, in a high, squeaky voice, “Hello, I am Deserie, high priestess of this tribe. I have been appointed as your translator, as very few of my kind speak your language. It is very hard for us to form the appropriate sounds.”

Though her voice is squeaky and there are odd pauses and gaps in her speech, she’s perfectly understandable. You nod and say, “What am I doing here?”

“We apologize for the harsh treatment, the retrieval crew was supposed to get you while you were sleeping. But they couldn’t resist the lure of your Nutty Bars, and… got a little carried away. We really need your help, but due to the… sensitive nature of the problem, I can’t even tell you what it is until you tell us if you can help us.”

Do you help the squirrels? Click HERE.
Do you refuse to help? Click HERE.