Apocalytopia

You have been floating in a liquid darkness for an eternity. The sound of waves lapping against a shore seeps in through the tiny cracks of consciouness. Was the sound always there? [[Open your eyes]]

You are on a very small island. You can see the whole thing when you sit up, surrounded by a roiling sea of dark purple and cyan blue. The soil or sand beneath you is a deep rich orange with flecks of pearlescent yellow and green. > [[Look up]] > [[Stand up]] > [[Lay back down and close your eyes]]

The sky has no color. You can't even see it. Not because of cloud cover or darkness, but the sea seems to wrap impossibly around to obscure it. The effect is dizzying. You //have// to look away. > [[Lay back down and close your eyes]] > [[Stand up]]

The sound of the waves is lulling. The acidic smell permeating this place that alarmed you at first now turns sweet and inviting, washing into your aching body. When did you get so tired? Perhaps it would be best to rest here for a while. > [[Give in to slumber]] > [[Resist->Open your eyes]]

You feel unsteady at first, a little dizzy, as if the island is shaky beneath your bare feet. That can't be right, it must be you. After a few moments, you feel more solid, grounded. > [[Explore the island]] > [[Walk to the water's edge]]

You do a lap of the island. It takes you no more than a few minutes. There is no flora or fauna anywhere in sight. The largest physical features are pebble-sized. You end up back where you started. > [[Walk to the water's edge]] > [[Lay back down and close your eyes]]

Close to land's edge is the largest feature you've seen so far: a stone about the size of baby's fist just out of reach of the tide. The color of the water is strange and mesmerizing. Water? Is it actually water or something else? > [[Pick up the stone]] > [[Touch the "water"]]

The darkness takes you. No more aches or pains or worries. Sweet surender, sweet release... You fade away into beautiful nothing. (css: "font-size: 300%" )+(text-colour:red+orange)+(text-style: "underline")[the end] back to [[Start]]

The tip of your finger stings and you pull your hand back reflexively, jumping back with the pain! The burning spreads up through your hand in excrutiating agony. You open your mouth and sceam, but only the sound of crashing waves comes out. Your hand hisses and loses color and begins to fall away into ash and smoke, bit by bit, like an acid crawling up your arm. The pain receeds as you watch yourself transmuted into gas and dust, fear changing into rapture and relief. Finally, some rest. As the affliction reaches you eyes, tear of joy evaporate into peaceful darkness. You fade away into beautiful nothing. (css: "font-size: 300%" )+(text-colour:red+orange)+(text-style: "underline")[the end] back to [[Start]]

The stone feels too light in your hand. The understanding that it is actually a bone startles you like a cockroach caught out of the corner of your eye and you involutarily lob it into the sea. It hits the surface, not with a splash, but a sizzle and a puff of smoke, and the world changes behind your back. A shiver dances up your spine. [[Turn around?]]

The island is a differnt shape entirely. In fact, you're sure you're on a differnt island all together. This one is a thin long peice of land, and you are two-thirds of the way to one end. At the other, there appears to be a statue of a thin, tall figure with one arm raised aloft high over it's head. It seems to be holding something in its grasp. You can't remember why, but you fear and love it all at once. > [[Walk towards the statue]] > [[Walk away from the statue]]

You get to the base of the stairs. > [[Climb]] > [[Turn back towards the tree->u-shaped]]

A larger, U-shaped land mass arrives beneath your feet and you are in the dip. Near the tip on your left is a dead and barren olive tree, bleached white. At the opposite tip to your right is small broken staircase, no more than seven or eight steps high, made of large burnt-orange stone slabs, leading nowhere. > [[Move left towards the tree]] > [[Move right towards the stairs]]

The sun sets like an explosion on the horizon, reversed and slowed down, forcing your memory to split down the middle and rewind. You can't focus on both sides at once, and as your perception is blown backward through time, you are forced to choose one of two paths: > [[Apocalypse->Start Apocalypse]] > [[Utopia->Start Utopia]]

You are six years old. You stand on the balcony looking out over streets of rubble. No cars pass in and out of the neighborhood. There is no school these days. You can see Father and the Doorman climbing over the dunes that used to be adjacent buildings. They've gone to throw the garbage out and the black plastic bags of the whole building's refuse metamorphs them both into some kind shiny, black crawling insectoids. [[Look down at your hand]]

You're holding a toy in your hand: A black and grey transforming robot. What does it turn into again? > [[Transform it]] > [[Leave it as a humaniod]]

You work at it quickly, more muscle memory than focus. After a few moments, you hold a mechanical bug in your hand. Weird... You could have sworn it used to turn into a [[tank...->Brother attack]]

You prefer this form by far; heroic and strong. It reminds you of that cartoon you love to watch. The one where the mech is the last remaining line of defence against the evil alien forces threatening to invade earth. The shape of the toy is reassuring in your grasp. As long as you hold on to it, no harm can come to [[you->Brother attack]].

Suddenly, Brother snatches it out of your grasp and runs into the house! [[Follow him!]]

Faster and bigger, three meters tall at 9 years old, Brother holds the plastic action figure high above his head in the middle of the living room, blue couches on one side, circular dining table on another. A forest covers the walls. He towers over everything, taunting you. > [[Reach for the toy]] > [[Stomp out of the room->the rest of the house]]

[[Start]]

You jump and claw and plead, but you can't reach it, can't reach him. He towers over everything, taunting you, his smile widening with each tiny ineffectual hop you make towards the prize, until his face is cut in half, mouth stretched from ear to ear. After a while, you can't anymore, exhausted, tears dry upon your cheeks. You stop. His smile fades, stiching his face back into one piece. He is bored now, prefers wet tears, feeds on them. In the distance, the bombs echo away, the gunfire rains sporadically - our version of chirping birds outside your window, passing cars in your street below. I try to imgine what that's like. Brother stuffs the Transformer in his pocket out of spite and lumbers towards the bedroom to do something interesting and mysterious. You wonder what it's like being him, then step out of the living room into [[the rest of the house]].

You are in the entrance hall facing the front door. Just to its left is the [[kitchen]], spewing thick, enticing aromas straight towards you, beconing you in. Behind you is the door to the living room. To your left is the [[hall way]] that leads to the bedrooms.

Sister is napping in the play room; mustn't wake her. Brother has locked himself in our room, doing Brother-stuff; mustn't reawaken his wrath. Parents' room is off limits. You don't need to use the bathroom. > [[Sit alone in the darkened hallway for a while]] > [[Return to the entrance hall->the rest of the house]]

Mother is in the kitchen, drowning in the hisses and clangs of prestos and pans. Her many blurry limbs chop and wash and stir and grind and season and taste. How can she split her brain and body into so many creatures at once? She is mesmerising. You feel your eyes grow bigger as you watch her: The grestest being of all! The gleam of a shiny object draw you wide eyes away from her. > [[Grab the object]] > [[Leave the kitchen->the rest of the house]]

Without looking, one of Mother's arms reaches to the choping board to grab the knife there. Her hand only touches wood. She turns to see where the knife has gone. You are holding it in your hand, examining this wand that turns vegetables into food, trying to find the magic in the shine. Mother squeels, terrified! The knife is the size of your arm and can easily take it off! She snatches it away from you in a flash -You're really getting sick of poeple doing that! Why does everyone just want what iyou're holding?! There are other things around, grab your own!!!- and slaps your hand hard. Her surprize and horror and anger melt into concern and she says something gentle but you can't hear it through the pain. Fresh tears. [[You run out]].

(text-colour:red)[You've had enough! Everyone is always making you cry! Taking things away from you! Telling you what to do!] [[No more!]]

You sit there feeling the distant thrums and rhythms of a city at war. Your heartbeat and brearthing are synched to it. Pretty soon you get bored and decide to [[return to the entrance hall->the rest of the house]].

"Ahh!!" Mother feels a sharp thud on the back of her head, and she spins around in pain and surprise as a little metal toy car - a Matchbox - rattles to the floor near by. You stand at the kitchen door, fury and water and vengeance burning your cheeks. The shock reaches her eyse. "Why did you do that?!?! Why would you hit your mama?!" "You hit me first!", you hear yourself say. She lunges for you and you reflexivley recoil. But you're too slow. She already has you in her safe tight soft embrace, your bodies shake to the sound of her sobbing laughter. That was [[the last time]] she ever used any form of parental violence with you or my brother and sister.

She holds you like that for a little longer then shoos you back out of the kitchen so she can finish making lunch. You are back in the living room, alone. There is no electricity to watch TV. What to do? Nothing? Is that an option? can you just sit and be? Without an activity? The idea is novel to you. [[Give it a shot]]

Outside, the past moves further away. You sit on navy blue with a white line floral pattern and stare at an abstracted forset of purples and oranges. . . . . . . There is a knock at the door! > [[Answer it]] > [[Continue staring at the trees]]

You rush over and open the front door. Father is back! But wait: is that really him? He slumps against the door frame, body much less solid than you know it to be. His eyes are squeezed shut. He tries to say something but only drool comes out of his mouth, tinted pink. He hugs his own torso tightly. Between the fingers clutching his side, something protrudes, red spreads. I thought he was wearing a white shirt when he went out. "ma...Mama..." he mumbles. [[Scream for Mother!]] [[Stare the protrusion in his abdomen]]

You screeeeeaamm for Mother! She appears in a flash and holds back her own scream in her throast, swtching into practical mode immediately. She throws one of his arms over her shoulder and begins to drag him into the house. "No..hospittle...", he dribbles out. "Yes! right!", to you she say, "bag!" and points to something behind you. You are frozen and staring at Him. "OMAR!" You look at her. "Bag. Please." she says calmly. [[Pass her the bag]]

Is that the handle of a knife? "sSon.." You look up at him. His eyes still shut tight, pain and fear. You've never seen that face on him before. It is a [[face you wear often->Scream for Mother!]].

"Tell your brother and sister to stay home and we will be back soon. Don't open the door for anyone!" She slams the door shut behind [[them]].

Back on the cliff, looking at the horizon, the sunset is now an open wound between the sea and sky. It bleeds its last onto the liquid surface and fades into night. As the stars dither into view, you think to yourself, "Is there no one else here?" You really hope not. (css: "font-size: 300%" )+(text-colour:purple)+(text-style: "underline")[the end] back to [[Start]]

You are now on one of two islands, both approximately pear-shaped from what you can tell, seperated by about two meteres of acidic sea. On the oposite shore is the fossilized carapace of a giant insect twice your size. Was it descarded when the creature molted and grew even larger? The thought doesn't frighten or disgust you. Strangely, it gives you comfort. [[Another shift->island3]]

You are sure now that you aren't being moved from place to place, teleporting somehow. It is the world around you that is moving, changing. You like that; being at the center. At the horizon, the sky begins to open up into a kolidoscope of colors, a point at first that then unfurls towards a line, then a plane. [[Shift->tiny island]]

This isaland is tiny. Just enough to fit you and youself if you laid down next to you. This place is so desolate, baren, lonely in the best possible way; in the most beautiful way... The sky is fully open now. And the deep, yellow sun warms your skin and bones as it falls towards the surface of the sea. You think the sunset is going to be breath taking. You wish you could [[get to higher ground->u-shaped]].

You put your tiny hands on the sun-bleached white bark. It's cool to the touch, like marble-sculpted skin in the shade of a spring day. You begin your climb and the worry that the task ahead is arduous, herculean even, gives way to pure childish joy and freedom of movement. You missed this! You used the climb trees regularly, constantly. When did you stop? Why did you stop? When was the last time you did climb a tree? Who cares. You let yourself get lost in the activity. Space and time become a part of you until you find your self at the peak and pull your self [[over the ledge->them]].

After a time, you notice you are not covering as much ground with each step as you predicted. Is the island playing another trick? Dialating the distance between you and your destination to slow you down? You look down and realize that the truth is even stranger. It is //you// who are changing with each step, getting younger and shorter. With no mirror around, you can't be sure, but you predict you are back to being a young boy, perhaps 6 or 7, judging by size of your hands and your proximity to the ground. The world [[shifts again->island2]].

The closer you get to the tree, the more it looks like a large, wide, rotund person with multple limbs frozen at the moment of flailing about, not in panic, but with precision and focus. You reaach the base of it soon enough, and look up. From this angle, it looks like it pierces into the sky; aperfect vantage point to watch the coming of night. > [[Climb the tree->the climb]] > [[Turn back towards the stairs->u-shaped]]

You turn your back to the sculpture and walk towards the opposing shore. You hear the grown of stone on stone as a shadow covers you. You look up and back just in time to see the statue, now tall enough to span the island, falls on you, crushing you into nothing. (css: "font-size: 300%" )+(text-colour:red+orange)+(text-style: "underline")[the end] back to [[Start]]

You begin to climb towards the sky. With every step up you take, the staircase sinks one step into the ground, a reverse escalator. As you get to the top, still level with the ground, the structure continues to sink into the earth, pulling you down with it as it goes. For a terrifying moment, you feel the sand fill you lungs as darkness consumes you. Then, nothing. (css: "font-size: 300%" )+(text-colour:red+orange)+(text-style: "underline")[the end] back to [[Start]]

The more yo look, the more the illusion of depth creeps into your perception. Just above and to the left of the television, there is a shape you had never noticed before. Is it a [[person]] peering back at you?

It skitters insect-like out of sight! Bang! Bang! Bang! The door again, this time much louder. [[Answer it]]