In a world blurred with colors, you stand in the suburbs. A zombie stumbles towards you, but before you can react, it grips its teeth onto your arm. Shit. You know exactly what this means. But this doesn't mean your story is over; there is time before you convert.
> [[Grip your arm, hide the wound and run to the nearest safe spot.]]You, too, begin to stumble, not because your mind is leaving, but because the calm within you already has. But you need to make peace. The pain throbs. You sob. One storeowner is empathetic. She takes your last message. As you are dismissed, you stumble out with an axe, ready to defend.
> [[Stand at the entrance and take a swing.]]
> [[The World Freezes.]]It is dark and cold. You saw your room torn apart with your own eyes, overrun by the undead but there you are, laying in your bed. The sheets are cold to your touch; a silent breeze sweeps your neck. Worse, it's far too quiet.
> [[Sit up]]
> [[Stay still]]Something's off. Your ears pulse.
> [[I should really get up.]]
> [[Stay still]]You know better. Your heart pounds with a primal instinct. Your gut feeling is always correct. You know it lurks, that any wrong move — any move at all — is the wrong one.
> [[Listen close]]
> [[Sit up]]The room is dead silent. Dead. As if the life has been breathed out of it. Like mold on fruit, it has become a vessel for something worse.
> [[Yeah, my body's right]]
> [[Sit up]] You're pretty damn sure that's not a good idea. The dark swirls around you, taunting an unnatural force resting on your chest. The cool blues of the room shield something. You're sure of it. You're absolutely sure.
> [[Listen close]]
> [[I need to sit up.]]You trust it like a mouse trusts a cat that feigns attention. Yet, the darkness, the silence, the dreams you had cannot be wrong. You cannot move, but you cannot contest.
> [[It feels off, but right...]]
> [[Sit up anyway]]It is going to get you. You don't feel the festering wound. You can't see it. DON'T do it. Do NOT. You are gone. GONE.
> [[I NEED TO SIT UP]]
> [[FUCK. NO.]]NO.
THE DARKNESS IS RIGHT. YOUR BODY FOLLOWS THE RIGHT IMPULSES. YOU ARE ON THE PRECIPICE OF DEATH, PERHAPS THE MOST PAINFUL YET. YOUR INSTINCTS ARE NOT WRONG, YOUR MIND IS NOT GONE.
KEEP YOUR BREATH SHORT. YOUR LINE OF VISION FOCUSED.
LET IT WEIGH YOU DOWN. IT IS YOUR SALVATION.
DO NOT MOVE.
DO NOT.
> [[FUCK. FUCK.]] WHAT'S THE FUCKING USE.
IT'S WAITING FOR ME.
THE WEAPONS ARE ACROSS THE ROOM. IT NEEDS ONE MOTION TO FIND ME.
I HAVE SEEN THIS MANY TIMES BEFORE.
IN MY DREAMS, MY HORROR STORIES, MY MOVIES AND GAMES.
THIS IS HOW IT ENDS.
I WILL LAY HERE TIL MY LAST DEHYDRATED BREATH ESCAPES MY CRACKED LIPS IF IT MEANS
I
WILL
SURVIVE.
> [[I NEED TO SIT UP]]
> [[FUCK IT.]] THE WORLD WARPS WITHOUT A WARNING.
THE BLUE INTENSIFIES.
YOU CAN'T HELP IT ANYMORE.
> [[FUCK. FUCK.]]
> [[FUCK. FUCK.]]
> [[FUCK. FUCK.]]
> [[FUCK. FUCK.]]At least, you think so. You believe so. But again, something is off. Like the weight of the world whispers in your ear, puts a hand on your chest, urging you to stay.
> [[Stay still]]
> [[Sit up anyway]]> [[YOUR BODY JOLTS]]The pulsing in your ears continues. The instinct lingers in your chest. The rustling echoes in the room, bouncing in the chilling silence.
> [[......]]No. Now you have a new instinct. A firstborn in a curse. Sleeping Beauty, emsnared for a hundred years.
No. This isn't right.
But you are in danger.
There is no danger.
Is there? There is.
> [[FUCK. NO.]]
> [[I need to sit up.]] You are the only body.
> [[. . .]]end.
by victoria rose
thank you.
start again:
fall asleep. find yourself in your dream's [[Horde]]
(there's no secret ending though. sorry. first twine game and all.)