Apologies! Your web browser lacks required capabilities. Please consider upgrading it or switching to a more modern web browser.
Initializing. Please wait…
//Argh.//
A sharp pain brings you back to your senses and your brain throbs as if it's bursting from your skull. You can feel blood caked into your hair, mixed with grime and sweat of unknown cause.
You instinctively move to stand up only to find that you are bound to the chair, thick layers of rope tied with expertise. Your back aches and you can barely keep your eyes open.
[[How... how long have you been here?->1]]You summon the little strength you have left and raise your head, blinking quickly as you push through the headache. The room is dimly lit; a candle sits atop a rusted barrel, throwing a faint orange glow against the darkness that covers you.
You strain to look around for anything, anything at all, and notice a barred window set in the dirtied brick.
Nondescript. Timeless. You have no idea where you are.
How //did// you get here?
[[There was a... truck?->2]]
[[You recall a waterfront, the sounds of music...->2]]
[[There's the bitterness of alcohol on your tongue. Or is it something else?->2]]
[[Nothing. Nothing comes, no matter how hard you try.->2]]Whoever brought you here, the why and how, you don't know. And you're not going to wait to find out.
You strain your hands against the tightly knit rope but it doesn't budge at all. Your legs ache in protest.
Only one thing for it then.
[[Rock the chair.->3]]The chair is your only hope. Old and rickety, squeaking each time you shift your weight, you move from side to side trying to knock yourself over onto the ground.
You're exhausted and your body is at its absolute limit, but you push through it. Just... just keep going. Focus.
[[Keep rocking the chair.->4]]At last the chair relents and you fall roughly over onto your side, muffling a grunt of pain. At least one of your ribs is broken, maybe more.
You use the last of your strength to pull against the rope binding your hands and feet and... nothing. Nothing has relented. You're still trapped and getting the chair to fall on its side has only inconvenienced you further.
The window beyond the bars is painted over; a dirtied sludge covering any signs of the outside. A thin ray of light pokes in through the bottom edge of the glass. You barely notice it on your face as you tear up with exhaustion, crying into the tape covering your mouth.
Why you of all people?
[[Continue.->5]]Minutes pass, maybe hours... you barely notice as you slip between waking dreams; half-conscious with a clouded mind.
You can't sleep and your eyelids hang half-open as you cry against the concrete floor. Dust is kicked up by each sob and cough but you're well past the point of caring.
Why? Why are you here?
[[What did you do to deserve this?->6]]You thought you heard movement earlier and the sounds of muffled talking but that might have been a delusion.
You're resigned at this point; completely powerless against whatever brought you here. There was no way you'd get out of here alive and everything you wanted to do, all the people you know and love, was fading away.
Simple, animalistic survival and a desperation to continue living took their place.
[[Continue.->7]]"Wake up."
Light spills out from an open door behind you but tied to the chair, you're unable to look at its source. The shadow of a figure is cast over you, likely standing in the door frame.
[[Pretend you're asleep.->8]]
[[Try and look.->8]]The figure is suddenly behind you, leaning over and pulls your chair back up.
"There we are."
You feel a hand on your shoulder and glance to your side. A black glove, generic and unplaceable. Fear grips your body and bile hangs at the back of your throat.
[[Continue.->9]]Another chair soon scrapes across the ground as the figure pulls it from the shadows. You watch, perfectly still, as they lift the candle off the barrel and sit it on the ground.
There is no face as far as you can see, merely a black void covered by a worn hood. The faint glow from the candle is swallowed by the chasm where a face should be as the figure sits down in front of you and leans forward.
You feel like you're going to be sick.
"I trust you slept well?"
[[Continue.->10]]"Ah, but let's make you more comfortable."
Your eyes widen at the pocket knife in their hand and you shake your head, pleading against the tape over your mouth.
The figure grabs your jaw to hold it still and moves the knife towards your mouth.
[[No!->11]]You let out a sob as you feel the knife push through the tape and slide between your lips. The figure laughs, their voice equally hard to place.
"Much better."
The tape is still around your mouth but the hole gives you room to properly breathe and for that, you're grateful.
[[Who are you? Why are you doing this to me?->12]]A long sigh and the figure sits back against their chair.
"Come now, you know why you're here. I don't understand how you can live yourself. Anyone else and, well... perhaps they'd turn themselves in.
But not you. You kept on running, didn't you? Threw responsibility to the wind and left everyone else reeling in your wake.
You thought there were no consequences to your actions."
[[I... I don't know what you mean.->13]]Another sigh. Exasperated.
The figure leans forward and quickly slashes the knife across your cheek. You reel back in pain, feeling blood surge and run down the side of your face.
"Wrong answer."
[[You have to believe me, please! I have no idea why I'm here!->14]]
[[You're fucking insane!->14]]
[[You have the wrong person, I didn't do anything!->14]]"Very well."
They abruptly stand up and turn away from you, pacing back and forth in the light from the corridor.
You risk at a glance at the window. You can't hear anything but there's daylight. Morning? Afternoon? You're unsure.
That pit, the unfathomable gaze within the hood, locks onto you again and the figure reaches for the something in their pocket.
A handgun... and they point it directly at your mouth.
[[P-please.. don't.->15]]They stand perfectly still, the barrel only a few centimeters from your mouth.
"You think you're in control, don't you?"
Silence. You can barely hold yourself together.
"I'm here to show you that's not the case.."
The figure pushes the barrel past the tape and into your mouth. You're shaking... the pain and exhaustion overwhelming.
[[Continue.->16]]"//Bang.//"
The figure laughs before leaning forward, pulling the hood back [[and...->17]]"//God damn it!//" You lean back against your chair and roll your eyes as everyone turns to the source of the noise: one of the boom operators grimacing over a pool of spilt coffee on the floor.
You sigh as the lights flick back on and everyone stirs, ignoring the scolding by the first AD.
Janne leans forward and claps you on the arm, that damnable hood now hanging back around his neck.
"Hey, you did well there. Felt like we got that kind of intensity, you know? Real stuff."
[[You're telling me. Think I've had enough of a gun being stuck in my mouth though.->18]]"No doubt." He laughs, throwing the prop gun in the direction of a bewildered gaffer walking towards the door and brings a cigarette up to his mouth.
Your agent, Kelly Walde, struts up quickly. As mousy and nervous as ever, you notice they're gripping a clipboard hard enough to break it.
"//Tsk//... I thought we'd resolved these disruptions. It seems we're having an impromptu break, yes?" A quick glance at Janne, lips pursed, before clearing their throat.
"We'll get you out of here in a moment, not to worry." You flex your still-bound hands and shrug. Kelly turns away and shouts at some of the camera crew to help you out.
[[They sigh and come over to help.->19]]The rhythmic movement of a sponge against your face is oddly relaxing; the daily ritual of fake blood being washed away as you sink back into a decidedly more comfortable chair.
Small luxuries aside, you can't help notice the endless hand-wringing as the director paces back and forth behind you.
"Another wasted day. Fuck!" Sam pauses and throws a glance in his direction. "Sorry. Look, I know this production hasn't been the smoothest and, yes, we've had a few mistakes but we're getting there, alright?"
[[Look back at the mirror.->20]]"Another day on set and we'll be fine. Really!" That worried smile is unnatural. //Seriously, return to a scowl before a meeting at the Hague is in order.//
"Scene 54B will be up tomorrow and your presence depends on it. We love you, the public is going to love you and, oh... you get the idea." You hear Sam sigh just enough for you to hear it before moving the sponge back up.
[[Hmmm... I don't think you've grovelled enough to meet my contract.->21]]
[[Relax. The film is going well, certainly better than a lot of other productions I've been a part of.->22]]
[[Sam... would you please?->23]]You resist the urge to laugh as the director catches their breath and stops that incessant pacing, their eyes narrowing.
"Very funny."
[[I thought so.->24]]"Really?" Oddly hopeful.
"No, they're just flattering you." Sam snorts. "What is it with you and thrillers anyway? It seems like half the people you've ever worked with walk away with scars both real and imagined. You must have a permanent discount on fake blood by now."
"Very funny, Sam. Remember who keeps you in employment with all that cleaning up."
"That's oddly sinister, don't you think?" Sam sighs lightly, turning back to you. "Be careful, the paparazzi could be listening, ready take it out of context!"
[[Continue.->24]]"With pleasure."
You close your eyes and relax, barely paying attention as Sam waves the director out of your trailer.
"There we go. A bit of peace and quiet. Let's get you cleaned up, shall we? Stagger home like this and the press'll think you're half-dead."
[[Not just yet.->24]]The gravel crunches under your boots as you make your way across the parking lot, a single floodlight on to help the few still remaining.
You see Janne pull out and return the wave, watching the car disappear into the trees. Overhead, the moon is full and other than a gentle breeze, silence hangs over the area. It's cold tonight and your breath turns to mist in front of you.
You move towards your old station wagon, one of the brake lights broken from a collision with a cafe stand, and come to a stop by the door. An assortment of rubbish is thrown over the passenger seat. You should probably clear that out soon, before it becomes its own life form.
[[Reach for the car keys.->25]]You let out a tired smile, acknowledging the last car as it pulls away. Reaching into your pockets, you feel around for your car keys.
Nothing. //Shit.//
You pat yourself down quickly, feeling over every pocket. The keys are missing and you only find a cigarette butt remarkably like the ones Janne smokes.
You turn around and look in vain for anyone who might still be onsite. Maybe one of the lighting techs? Someone with sound equipment in a van?
No. All the cars are gone.
[[Great.->26]]You speed up to a jog and move through the set, looking for any signs of life.
The main garage is locked with all the lighting and sound equipment still inside. Probably not the best idea considering the cold, but hey... you didn't pay for it.
You notice a light peeking out from the caravan at the back of the set, pressed up against the wall. Relieved, you pick up the pace and head towards the dusty blinds at the window.
[[Look inside.->27]]You put your hand against the glass, look inside the caravan and see the first AD and boom operator from earlier going down on each other.
Right. You really didn't need to see that. //Love does find a way.//
Sighing, you walk back to the parking lot, your eyes on the ground for any sign of the keys. Easiest thing would be to wait this out in your car or hunker down somewhere on set, but the whole crew are only a few miles away in town.
Warm. Snuggled up. Probably drunk.
[[Screw that.->28]]You storm off towards the trees and begin to move through the undergrowth. One upside of the cold was that you had the wisdom to wrap up in a coat and get some decent shoes before leaving your trailer so that shouldn't be a problem.
The main thing would be finding the right way.
[[Continue.->29]]A short time later, you pause to look around at your surroundings but nothing in particular catches your eye.
Trees, dirt and more trees. Wonderful.
You look up to check where the moon is but the combination of canopy and an overcast sky has obscured the moon. Good thing you have your phon-- Nope. Out of battery.
This just gets better and better.
[[Keep going.->30]]Tired, cold and annoyed at the whole situation, you begin to run blindly forwards, pushing branches aside as you weave through the forest. With any luck, you'll have a warm drink and a bed within the hour.
//Crack.//
The noise catches you off guard and you come quickly to a stop, crouching down to listen for its source. Except for the beating of your heart, you can't hear anything over the crushing silence of the forest.
[[Listen.->31]]You move as close to the ground as you can without falling over and hold your breath, listening for any signs of movement.
And then you hear it.
Shallow breathing. Something, or someone, is watching you. You're no longer on set and the town must only be a short distance away.
There's only one thing for it.
[[Run.->32]]You launch into a sprint, moving as fast as your legs can take you. Your heart is thumping in your chest, the ragged breathing turning to mist in the night air.
Suddenly you feel the leaves slip under you. Without any grandeur, a padded mat or a single Occupational Health & Safety document, you careen through the air.
In a blur of movement, you fall down the slope and [[your head collides with a tree trunk.->33]][[...->34]]
[[...->35]]
[[...->36]][[Wake up!->37]]Immediately you feel yourself splayed out on the grass and dead leaves. Groggy and resigned, you summon up the energy to stir only to notice something licking your forehead.
Your eyes flick open in an instant and you push yourself back in fright, a small fox yelping at the disturbance and disappearing into the bushes.
You move your head up to forehead and feel a dried patch of blood near your hairline. Where's Sam when you need them?
[[Continue.->38]]You push yourself up and sigh, looking around in the morning light. As far as you can tell, the area around is still one continuous sea of trees and dirt.
One of the many benefits of working on location.
You instinctively reach into your pocket only to catch your hand. Phone's dead. Looks like the only way back to comfort is to retrace your steps.
[[Walk up the slope.->39]]Letting out a long sigh, you pull your aching body up the slope and head back in the rough direction of the set.
No doubt everyone was already there with a hot drink in hand, the director was having an aneurysm at your sudden disappearance and Kelly was having a breakdown again.
The press were going to have a field day but you don't really care at this point.
It was almost funny. [[Almost.->40]]The sound of the first AD barking orders and an all-too-familiar rant of exasperation signals your return to civilisation.
"We're ruined! I can't budget for another day without our star character! What the hell happened?!"
"Can //somebody// tell me where they are? Tear off the car door if you have to!"
You hear Janne try to give some small consolation and the rest of the crew murmur idly. They're still waiting for you. That's something at least.
[[Continue.->41]]Head up high and brushing any dirt off, you stroll out of the trees as everyone turns to look at you in shock.
"Wha--"
"How the f--"
Letting out a wild smile as you go, you walk forwards as the group opens at your approach. Out of the corner of your eye, you see a ballpoint pen fall from the shocked mouth of the first AD and the rest of the crew regard you with curiosity.
[[Keep going.->42]]You push Kelly's attempted hug aside, ignoring the emotional outpour at your return, and keep moving towards the set.
Dried blood is caked onto your forehead, the signs of exhaustion hanging around your eyes, dirt, muck and quite possibly fox piss clinging to your clothes, but even one of the paparazzi here from a deal with the studio can't lift their cigarette back up in amazement as you walk by.
Janne throws you a wink just as you reach the main building.
[[Throw up open the door.->43]]The director is crouched on the ground, his hands around his head. You step up confidently as he stares at you in shock, unable to speak.
[[Are we ready or not?->44]][[3...->45]][[2...->46]][[1...->47]][[Action!->48]]//Thanks for playing!//