THRILL SEEKER

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---- One night upon returning home from college, you find the body of your mother, mutilated, torn apart almost beyond recognition. Despite the horrifying scene before you, the police find no evidence and there are no suspects. Determined to avenge your mother, you set out to figure out what happened yourself. A monumental task lies before you, a task that will test your limits. There will be friends and allies that can aid you along the way, but some of them carry grave secrets of their own, and to trust the wrong person will be a fatal folly. Still, if you can find it in yourself to trust them—or to simply look past your own judgements—you can create something meaningful and bright along with all this darkness and blood. ---- * //CONTENT WARNINGS: Thrill Seeker is rated 18+ for gore, violence, and bad language. Any other warnings will be added as the game progresses. Thank you, and I hope you enjoy Thrill Seeker!// <<button "Onto the game!" "Prologue">><</button>>

<div id="sidebar"> <div class="sidebar-header">  <div></div>  <h1 class="story-title" data-passage="gameTitle"></h1>  <div class="sidebar-toggle"> <span id="sidebar-toggle-icon" class="lnr lnr-menu-circle"></span> </div> </div>   <div class="sidebar-history-nav"> <span id="backwards-button" class="lnr lnr-arrow-left"></span> <span id="forwards-button" class="lnr lnr-arrow-right"></span> </div> <div id="sidebar-body">  <div class="story-logo" data-passage="storyLogo"></div>  <h2 class="story-author" data-passage="storyAuthor"></h2> <nav class="sidebar-nav"> <ul class="story-tools"> <li> <span id="restart-button" class="lnr lnr-redo"></span> <span class="tooltiptext">Restart</span> </li> <li> <span id="saves-button" class="lnr lnr-download"></span> <span class="tooltiptext">Saves</span> </li> <li> <span id="settings-button" class="lnr lnr-cog"></span> <span class="tooltiptext">Settings</span> </li> </ul> <ul class="story-menu" data-passage="storyMenu"> </ul> </nav> <nav id="social-media"> <p>Social media</p> <ul data-passage="socialMedia"> </ul> </nav> </div>  </div>  <div id="story" role="main"> <div id="passages"> <div id="passage-start" data-passage="start" class="passage"> </div> </div> </div>

<<nobr>>   <</nobr>>

<<set $hello = "hello">> [[Next|More Styles]]

//I put the blade on the ground, closed my eyes. I heard them laugh, and then start running. One... Two... Three... Ready or not, here I come. They looked over their shoulders again. They never realize how to stop repeating their mistakes, do they? They were stunned when they saw that I wasn’t behind them, and their footsteps faltered. They stopped. Oh, this was almost too easy. The feeling of their neck twisting in my hands was almost a reflex, at this point. A familiar weight. Maybe it was overkill, but I did always have a flare for the dramatic, after all. I carved a smile into their throat, watching the blood spill out pooling around their miserable body. I admired my handiwork, sitting onto the floor. They hadn’t even really gotten a chance to feel that much pain... I had made the death quick. I felt a pang of disappointment. That was no fun! I reveled in the look of still horror etched into their face. This was my art, and they were my masterpiece. I had control over them. I decided the finishing touches. I decided how the story ended. “You never got over your habit of repeating stupid mistakes, I see. You died today because of them.” I leaned in. “But in another life, when you come back—” I pulled a finger across my throat — “you had better pray I don’t find you." <<button "//“You really need to learn,” I whispered, “How to watch your back.”//" "chapter 1 pt 1">><</button>>

The door was already open when I arrived. My first warning, in hindsight. I shifted the weight of my bag on my back, debating whether or not to call the police. My mother hadn’t answered any of my texts that day, which was strange of her. But then again, she’d finished work early that day, and was always a bit more tired and reckless after work. I walked in, the lights all off. Every door was open… I had told my mum I would surprise her with a visit today, so had she opened everything? Even then, I didn’t believe it myself. I tucked my head into the living room. My mum spent most of her time in there, and if she was feeling especially tired after work, she would probably be passed out on the couch. However, there wasn’t even a couch for her to be passed out on. In fact, the whole room was laid bare-- no furniture, no pictures, nothing. A quick look at her other rooms told me the same. Nothing, nothing at all in the house. She hadn’t moved houses. I already told her in advance I’d be coming back for the summer holidays, and I confirmed with her just two weeks ago that this was the right place. With growing suspicion, I walked towards the stairs, tilting my head up and cupping my hands around my mouth. “Mum!” I called out. “Mum? Mum, where are you?” There was no response. //[[I sprinted up the steps, a heavy, writhing feeling sinking into my chest. My mom was a very, very light sleeper-- she should’ve answered me already. Something must be wrong.]]// //[[I crept to the stairs with unease, a bit hesitant. It wasn’t like her to act like this, but a small, optimistic voice in my head told me she might just be out getting ready for our meetup.]]// //[[There was no need to worry or rush. So what if she was acting a bit off? I didn’t need to shock her. I walked up the steps quietly, wanting to not disturb her sleep.]]//

<<set $hello = "hello">> <<print $hello.toUpperFirst()>> <<= $hello.toUpperFirst()>> !!! Checkbox: <<checkbox "$checkboxVar1" false true autocheck>> Checkbox option 1 <<checkbox "$checkboxVar2" false true autocheck>> Checkbox option 2 <<checkbox "$checkboxVar3" false true autocheck>> Checkbox option 3 !!! Cycle: <<cycle "$cycleVar" autoselect>> <<option "Option 1">> <<option "Option 2">> <<option "Option 3">> <<option "Option 4">> <<option "Option 5">> <</cycle>> !!! Listbox: <<listbox "$listboxVar" autoselect>> <<option "Option 1">> <<option "Option 2">> <<option "Option 3">> <<option "Option 4">> <<option "Option 5">> <</listbox>> !!! Radiobutton: <<radiobutton "$radiobuttonVar" "option 1" autocheck>> Option 1 <<radiobutton "$radiobuttonVar" "option 2" autocheck>> Option 2 <<radiobutton "$radiobuttonVar" "option 3" autocheck>> Option 3 !!! Textarea: <<textarea "$textareaVar" "Type text here..">> !!! Textbox: <<textbox "$textboxVar" "Type answer here">>

!Thrill Seeker

by <a href="https://thrill-seeker-if.tumblr.com/" target="_blank">Aalaa R</a>

<li><a href="https://thrill-seeker-if.tumblr.com/" target="_blank">Thrill Seeker Tumblr</a></li> <li><a href="https://discord.gg/W7PP8ewfGT" target="_blank">Thrill Seeker Discord</a></li>

Your stats go here..  <center><<link "Return to game" $return>><</link>></center>

!Stat page 2 Your stats go here..  <center><<link "Return to game" $return>><</link>></center>

//It was second nature, now. Almost effortless, really. Their fear was one of the best parts. This one had put up a fight. I laughed; they had always been too stubborn for their own good. Always been the person who never gave up. It never helped them; people had looked down on them then, and they had decided to push that dissatisfaction on and look down on the wrong person. It would not help them now; the roles were reversed. They made the mistake of looking over their shoulder, and tripped over their own feet. They still weren’t able to multitask, were they? Always been the person who never gave up. I could see their defenses break, could see the resolve in their eyes crumble. My body was on fire— the kind that burned you from the inside out, and as it burnt out, the ashes that were left became a cold numbness. A remnant of a once-conscious mind, left to blow away into sheer nothingness, the ashes swirling up into the air and away. My heart was both shrinking, closing in like a clenched fist, and expanding, jutting out of my body, points as sharp as the blade in my hand, again and again and again. I shivered. This was one of the best feelings in the world— that twisted feeling of doing something so morally distasteful as my mind tries desperately to hold on to a shred of sanity, begging me to stop. But I won’t, because I’m in complete control, because I want that rush of adrenaline, because just look at the satisfaction, look at the regret in their eyes, look at how they beg, beg like dogs, beg for your mercy... I reined myself in. Time to introduce myself. I scrambled down from my perch, my stance confident. Their fear increased tenfold, and they scrambled on their back to get away. I grinned, taking the mask off, revealing my face. Realization dawned on their face. They called out my name, asked me to forgive them. Asked me to forget. To let it go. I…// <<button "I agreed." "prologue pt2">><</button>>

My heart thundered in my chest, my blood boiling. I knew my mother like the back of my hand. Every habit she had, I had. I knew her schedule by heart, because it was my schedule too. I couldn’t muster up a single excuse for why she wouldn’t answer me-- she was too much of a light sleeper to not yell back down at me, she wouldn’t be out of the house since she only shopped on Tuesdays and Sundays, she was a homebody who only really spent time conversing with family and clients-- overall, no reason to not be here, to not speak to me-- //Wait.// I was worried about her speaking to me, but when was the last time I had spoken to my mother? I checked my phone again. I sent her a text yesterday, and two today, one in the morning, and one just now, letting her know I was here. But the last time she had responded to me was two weeks ago, when I had asked for her address. I should’ve known something was up. I should’ve known she wasn’t acting like herself. I should’ve come sooner. I shouldn’t have waited so long, doubted my instincts-- I took a deep breath to steady myself. It would be of no use to my mother or myself to spiral like this. I just had to relax, and be aware and present in my surroundings. You can only help someone else if you, yourself, don’t need help. Then, the smell hit me. <<button "It was disgusting, so much so I doubled over, trying to stop myself from falling. It suffocated me, the pungent, entirely too recognizable smell of rot." "chapter 1 pt 2">><</button>>

There had been many times in my life when I had hesitated, and it always ate me up a little inside. I don’t know what was stopping me from going up there-- I don’t know why I was so desperate to think nothing was wrong. Every sign was hitting me in the face. Nothing in the house, not even the pictures of us. My mother wasn’t answering me, not now, not for the last two weeks. But again, I had always been so paranoid. Even my mother had told me that she wanted me to stop jumping to conclusions all the time. It was probably all in my head, like it usually was, right? I would go upstairs, and I would find my mom in the bed, and I would shake her awake, and she might tell me that she was moving, and that’s why all the stuff was gone. Yeah, there was nothing wrong, right? I was just being stupid. I was just a scaredy cat. But even that didn’t reassure me when I was walking up the stairs. I felt hyper-aware of every noise-- like something was going to jump at me any moment. Then, the smell hit me. <<button "It was disgusting, so much so I doubled over, trying to stop myself from falling. It suffocated me, the pungent, entirely too recognizable smell of rot." "chapter 1 pt 2">><</button>>

Everything would be fine. Everyone had their off days-- college had been hectic for me lately, I couldn’t find the energy to meet up with friends or double back on all my promises, so it was no big deal if my mom was feeling a bit fatigued. We did also have a history of Alzheimer’s in the family. My mom was nearing the age of experiencing the symptoms of early onset Alzheimer’s, so she probably was moving out and forgot to tell me. A little bit of an uneasy feeling set into my stomach when I remembered she hadn’t been answering my calls or texting me last week. She couldn’t be that forgetful, could she? Yeah, she probably could. Maybe she dropped her phone, or broke it. There was nothing to fuss over. I’d find her, and I’d just tell her to be a little more cautious, like she usually would. Then, the smell hit me. <<button "It was disgusting, so much so I doubled over, trying to stop myself from falling. It suffocated me, the pungent, entirely too recognizable smell of rot." "chapter 1 pt 2">><</button>>

Now, true fear settled through me. Where there was rot, there was ruin. I knew what this must be... or rather, I knew who I hoped, prayed it wasn’t. I had gone to college to become a //[[Nurse]]// //[[Teacher]]// //[[Psychologist]]// //[[Computer Engineer]]//

Our class had gone into a hospital to have some real life interaction. It must’ve been a bad day, though, because there was an air of tension throughout the hospital-- or, at least, on our floor. At first I thought I might just be being a little dramatic, but then I realized that no, the others felt it too. We had to cut off the little trip quickly, with the teacher’s promising we would come another time. I needed to go to the washroom, so they allowed me to do that before we left. They didn’t give me the right instructions, though, so I had taken the wrong turn. It was a mistake. The smell was unbearable, the smell of the dead. The body lying there was old and peeling, simply a shell of the person it must have been. From my knowledge, it must have been dead for a few hours, but maybe it simply smelled and looked worse because the person was so old. It didn’t shock me, the smell or the sight-- I mean, I wanted to be a nurse, I had had to build up a resistance to gross medical terms. But the sight had definitely been enough to sober me up. This smell, however, didn’t sober me. It filled me with so much dread that I could barely look ahead of me. No wonder she hadn’t answered me. <<button "I didn’t want to accept it, but I knew I had to. My mother... was most likely dead." "chapter 1 pt 3">><</button>>

My friend had called me crying that day, telling me to come over right away. I drove over after my shift at a nearby café, hoping I wasn’t too late. When I got there, they were a sobbing mess. When I engulfed them in a hug, they could barely tell me what was wrong. Apparently, their dog had gone missing. I started making missing posters right away, so we could do something about the problem. Together, we had searched. But the search had ended when someone from another block called us. They told us it might be the dog, but they couldn’t know for sure. But we recognized the collar. It was hers. She lay there in a ripped up heap. It was clear something had slashed her up-- I think there had been news of foxes in the area. My friend had been devastated. They couldn’t hold the tears in, and I couldn’t blame her. It was awful. After coaxing them to calm down, I had helped them to move the body and put it in a small hole in their backyard, trying to give it the best burial I possibly could. I had thought that had been an awful smell. But I was wrong, so wrong-- it paled in comparison to whatever this was. No, not whatever, whoever. No wonder she hadn’t answered me. <<button "I didn’t want to accept it, but I knew I had to. My mother... was most likely dead." "chapter 1 pt 3">><</button>>

My lecture hall had smelt awful all week, but my teacher’s had been dismissive. That had all been until the janitor went in to check the smell and had found a dead bat, which had put everyone into a frenzy. I think it scared them more because it had been under their nose the whole time. Inherently, as human beings, our own awareness is our biggest weakness. It feels good to be lied to. When the truth comes, the riots start-- not because we want to maintain a peace, but because to change is to make an effort to change yourself. And I definitely lied to myself, thinking that everything was alright. The truth was staring me in the eye, and I could barely straighten up to face it. No wonder she hadn’t answered me. <<button "I didn’t want to accept it, but I knew I had to. My mother... was most likely dead." "chapter 1 pt 3">><</button>>

I had been on a small walk with some of my friends from class. One of the girls, Amelia, had a favorite hiking spot, and so we all decided to go and see it. However, something had immediately seemed a bit off. There was no wildlife to be seen, even though Amelia insisted there usually was a couple deer around, accustomed to seeing people. Another classmate, Raj, had said that maybe because there were more of us, they were a little spooked. If we went further out, maybe we would see something. So we went further out. And it had been a bit of a mistake, as we saw the bodies of several deer on the ground. Unfortunately, that year, a couple mountain lions had migrated over from a while away, and it had increased the population of the mountain lions in the area-- decreasing the deer population, as a byproduct. The smell had been almost unbearable then, but it was even worse now. I hadn’t really felt much when I had seen those deer lying out in the field, other than a heavy disgust and a bit of mortification. Now, however, knowing what-- no, who was in there-- it was the worst feeling in the world, this fear. No wonder she hadn’t answered me. <<button "I didn’t want to accept it, but I knew I had to. My mother... was most likely dead." "chapter 1 pt 3">><</button>>

A desperate part of me said that maybe, hopefully, this was one big running gag, and my mother would be on the other side of the door, absolutely fine. But that probably wasn’t the case. Restraining the urge to vomit, I made my way towards her bedroom. //[[A hysterical laugh rose out of my throat. Laughter had always been my coping mechanism, but right now, it made me feel insane.]]// //[[I felt the tears spring out of my eyes. I wiped at them stubbornly, wanting not to seem weak. Stupid, since no one was here to see my moment of weakness, but I felt as if fifty pairs of eyes were on me.]]// //[[The fear numbed me, and I couldn’t bring myself to give a reaction. I closed in on myself, just hoping, praying it wasn’t as bad as I was picturing.]]//

Stupid. Stupid. I was so damn stupid. I put my hand on my mouth, trying to stop it, but it wouldn’t stop. I felt genuinely, uncontrollably amused. I had to stop it before the bile that threatened to come up with it made good on it’s promise. But as my body shook, I couldn’t find it in me to muster up the energy. Coward. I couldn’t do anything right. I jiggled the doorknob open when I had collected myself, feeling the wetness of my panicked tears on my cheeks as the door swung to a stop. Oh. Oh, my god. There she lay, her usual pearly white sheets stained a dark red. I almost couldn’t recognize her, she was so torn up. There were things around her body... two small balls, and a big mass of... something. She was propped up on a pillow, enough that I could see in the dark room that her eyes were not where they were supposed to be. I stepped into the room and flicked open the light, almost in a trance. If it had looked bad before, it looked even worse now. There were long, huge slashes in her stomach. It looked like someone had reached in there and taken out her internal organs... and looking beside her, I realized that the long, pink mass of meat beside her must be her intestines. Looking closer, I realized I was right about her eyes-- they weren’t in her eye sockets, where they belonged, but beside what must’ve been her intestines. People always called me her twin.To see her on the bed now, I felt like a part of me was dying. Her eyes, the same ones that shared my colour, those-- <<button "Dark brown eyes, reminding me of home, of warm arms around me, of chocolate and smiles" "Brown Eyes">><</button>> <<button "Bright blue eyes, the ones that looked like the sky itself was wrapped in them, those angelic eyes that reminded me that maybe Icarus really did see freedom in that sky, as I had always seen freedom in hers" "Blue Eyes">><</button>> <<button "Deep green eyes that sparkled like emeralds, reminding me of all those times she said I was the most precious thing in the world, but I knew that wasn’t true, because how could anything be more precious than her" "Green Eyes">><</button>> <<button "Silver eyes, cunning and calculating, the ones that could see through anything, the ones I could never lie to and that never lied to me, making it even more meaningful when she told me how much she loved me" "Silver Eyes">><</button>>

Maybe I had always been an emotional person. But I know until this moment that I’d been good at suppressing it. The house was so eerily quiet and empty, but my heart was full of fear. It felt like seconds were turning into eternity as I was walking towards the door at the end of the hall, the room she was in. It felt like every shadow was a person who wanted to hurt me. I wished I wasn’t so scared all the time. I wished I was better at hiding my emotions. I really wish I wasn’t here right now. I stood in front of the door, collecting myself. I breathed in and breathed out, trying to calm myself. I turned the doorknob, my hands shaking slightly. As the view came into my sight, I couldn’t help the bile that rose out of my throat and onto the floor, the tears that stung my eyes. There she lay, her usual pearly white sheets stained a dark red. I almost couldn’t recognize her, she was so torn up. There were things around her body... two small balls, and a big mass of... something. She was propped up on a pillow, enough that I could see in the dark room that her eyes were not where they were supposed to be. I stepped into the room and flicked open the light, almost in a trance. If it had looked bad before, it looked even worse now. There were long, huge slashes in her stomach. It looked like someone had reached in there and taken out her internal organs... and looking beside her, I realized that the long, pink mass of meat beside her must be her intestines. Looking closer, I realized I was right about her eyes-- they weren’t in her eye sockets, where they belonged, but beside what must’ve been her intestines. People always called me her twin.To see her on the bed now, I felt like a part of me was dying. Her eyes, the same ones that shared my colour, those-- <<button "Dark brown eyes, reminding me of home, of warm arms around me, of chocolate and smiles" "Brown Eyes">><</button>> <<button "Bright blue eyes, the ones that looked like the sky itself was wrapped in them, those angelic eyes that reminded me that maybe Icarus really did see freedom in that sky, as I had always seen freedom in hers" "Blue Eyes">><</button>> <<button "Deep green eyes that sparkled like emeralds, reminding me of all those times she said I was the most precious thing in the world, but I knew that wasn’t true, because how could anything be more precious than her" "Green Eyes">><</button>> <<button "Silver eyes, cunning and calculating, the ones that could see through anything, the ones I could never lie to and that never lied to me, making it even more meaningful when she told me how much she loved me" "Silver Eyes">><</button>>

Like the rest of the doors in the house, this one wasn’t locked. I almost wished it was for a moment, just so that I could buy some time from facing what was on the other side of the door. I jiggled the door knob open, and it swung open cleanly, without a problem. It wasn’t as bad as I thought, I said to myself, almost humorous at my stupidity. It’s so, so much worse. There she lay, her usual pearly white sheets stained a dark red. I almost couldn’t recognize her, she was so torn up. There were things around her body... two small balls, and a big mass of... something. She was propped up on a pillow, enough that I could see in the dark room that her eyes were not where they were supposed to be. I stepped into the room and flicked open the light, almost in a trance. If it had looked bad before, it looked even worse now. There were long, huge slashes in her stomach. It looked like someone had reached in there and taken out her internal organs... and looking beside her, I realized that the long, pink mass of meat beside her must be her intestines. Looking closer, I realized I was right about her eyes-- they weren’t in her eye sockets, where they belonged, but beside what must’ve been her intestines. People always called me her twin.To see her on the bed now, I felt like a part of me was dying. Her eyes, the same ones that shared my colour, those-- <<button "Dark brown eyes, reminding me of home, of warm arms around me, of chocolate and smiles" "Brown Eyes">><</button>> <<button "Bright blue eyes, the ones that looked like the sky itself was wrapped in them, those angelic eyes that reminded me that maybe Icarus really did see freedom in that sky, as I had always seen freedom in hers" "Blue Eyes">><</button>> <<button "Deep green eyes that sparkled like emeralds, reminding me of all those times she said I was the most precious thing in the world, but I knew that wasn’t true, because how could anything be more precious than her" "Green Eyes">><</button>> <<button "Silver eyes, cunning and calculating, the ones that could see through anything, the ones I could never lie to and that never lied to me, making it even more meaningful when she told me how much she loved me" "Silver Eyes">><</button>>

She had always been there for me, those warm eyes crinkling in happiness when she saw me, and it hit me that I would never see her smile like that again. I would never experience her warmth, I would never get a goodnight kiss, or a hug, or any of the regular affection she always gave me. She always made me feel loved, and in her final moments, I wasn’t even there to love her back. Her hair, the hair she let me run my hands through even though I hurt her sometimes tugging on it as a child, that beautiful hair that people praised the both of us for, our <<cycle "$cycleVar" autoselect>> <<option "long">> <<option "short">> <<option "bobbed">> <<option "shoulder length">> <</cycle>> <<cycle "$cycleVar" autoselect>> <<option "ebony">> <<option "ginger">> <<option "crimson">> <<option "brown">> <<option "ashy Blonde">> <<option "blonde">> <<option "platinum blonde">> <</cycle>> hair was matted with blood and all hacked up, which had me reaching onto my own head to make sure mine was still intact. I almost breathed a breath of relief when I found it was fine. Her normally healthy <<cycle "$cycleVar" autoselect>> <<option "pale">> <<option "ivory">> <<option "bronze">> <<option "beige">> <<option "amber">> <<option "almond">> <<option "cedar">> <<option "umber">><</cycle>> skin had been peeled off her body, exposing the muscle underneath. Her arms, her legs, and her face had been ridden of her skin. Who-- who would go through such a length? Who would do such a terrible thing? She seemed to stare at me in a warning. No, not in a warning-- in a threat. <<button "Indeed, it felt like I was the one dying-- my mother and I looked so similar, we could have been the same woman." "chapter end">><</button>> <<button "We shared so many of the same features. The look on her face- or, at least, what was left of it, seemed to say //you’re next, boy.// I had never noticed our resemblance so much, as I was a man, but now all the things that made her //her// and me //me// were ripped off of her." "chapter end">><</button>> <<button "I felt sick to my stomach. I looked like her now, although I haven’t always, as a trans woman." "chapter end">><</button>> <<button "I was horrified. I looked like her, once-- and she had accepted me when I told her I was a trans man. She had held me tight and told me she would always love me. Now, those words were dead with her." "chapter end">><</button>> <<button "I could see all the bits and pieces of myself in her. Now, all those bits and pieces were scattered around the room." "chapter end">><</button>>

She had always told me to go after what I wanted, had encouraged me to be creative, to do what I liked. Because of her, I felt brave. Because of her, I felt confident, like a bird that had gained full control over their wings. Looking at her, I felt almost like my own wings had been cut off. She had always been my inspiration, telling I could do anything I liked. I felt freedom because I knew she would always be there, protecting me. She promised, she swore she would always be there for me, and I couldn’t even be there for her when she needed me most. Her hair, the hair she let me run my hands through even though I hurt her sometimes tugging on it as a child, that beautiful hair that people praised the both of us for, our <<cycle "$cycleVar" autoselect>> <<option "long">> <<option "short">> <<option "bobbed">> <<option "shoulder length">> <</cycle>> <<cycle "$cycleVar" autoselect>> <<option "ebony">> <<option "ginger">> <<option "crimson">> <<option "brown">> <<option "ashy Blonde">> <<option "blonde">> <<option "platinum blonde">> <</cycle>> hair was matted with blood and all hacked up, which had me reaching onto my own head to make sure mine was still intact. I almost breathed a breath of relief when I found it was fine. Her normally healthy <<cycle "$cycleVar" autoselect>> <<option "pale">> <<option "ivory">> <<option "bronze">> <<option "beige">> <<option "amber">> <<option "almond">> <<option "cedar">> <<option "umber">><</cycle>> skin had been peeled off her body, exposing the muscle underneath. Her arms, her legs, and her face had been ridden of her skin. Who-- who would go through such a length? Who would do such a terrible thing? She seemed to stare at me in a warning. No, not in a warning-- in a threat. <<button "Indeed, it felt like I was the one dying-- my mother and I looked so similar, we could have been the same woman." "chapter end">><</button>> <<button "We shared so many of the same features. The look on her face- or, at least, what was left of it, seemed to say //you’re next, boy.// I had never noticed our resemblance so much, as I was a man, but now all the things that made her //her// and me //me// were ripped off of her." "chapter end">><</button>> <<button "I felt sick to my stomach. I looked like her now, although I haven’t always, as a trans woman." "chapter end">><</button>> <<button "I was horrified. I looked like her, once-- and she had accepted me when I told her I was a trans man. She had held me tight and told me she would always love me. Now, those words were dead with her." "chapter end">><</button>> <<button "I could see all the bits and pieces of myself in her. Now, all those bits and pieces were scattered around the room." "chapter end">><</button>>

The most precious thing in the world had always been her. She was a treasure like no other, her smile, personality, and soul was like no other. She was so uniquely her that everything and everyone else around her dimmed when she was around. She made all the bad days good, and all the good days better. She was my rock, something that I could rely on and fall back on. And inside, a jewel, a priceless gem that was irreplaceable. But now, she was gone, and I had to find something to replace her in this void she had created in my heart. Her hair, the hair she let me run my hands through even though I hurt her sometimes tugging on it as a child, that beautiful hair that people praised the both of us for, our-- <<cycle "$cycleVar" autoselect>> <<option "Long">> <<option "Short">> <<option "Bobbed">> <<option "Shoulder Length">> <</cycle>> <<cycle "$cycleVar" autoselect>> <<option "ebony">> <<option "ginger">> <<option "crimson">> <<option "brown">> <<option "ashy Blonde">> <<option "blonde">> <<option "platinum blonde">> <</cycle>> hair was matted with blood and all hacked up, which had me reaching onto my own head to make sure mine was still intact. I almost breathed a breath of relief when I found it was fine. Her normally healthy <<cycle "$cycleVar" autoselect>> <<option "pale">> <<option "ivory">> <<option "bronze">> <<option "beige">> <<option "amber">> <<option "almond">> <<option "cedar">> <<option "umber">><</cycle>> skin had been peeled off her body, exposing the muscle underneath. Her arms, her legs, and her face had been ridden of her skin. Who-- who would go through such a length? Who would do such a terrible thing? She seemed to stare at me in a warning. No, not in a warning-- in a threat. <<button "Indeed, it felt like I was the one dying-- my mother and I looked so similar, we could have been the same woman." "chapter end">><</button>> <<button "We shared so many of the same features. The look on her face- or, at least, what was left of it, seemed to say //you’re next, boy.// I had never noticed our resemblance so much, as I was a man, but now all the things that made her //her// and me //me// were ripped off of her." "chapter end">><</button>> <<button "I felt sick to my stomach. I looked like her now, although I haven’t always, as a trans woman." "chapter end">><</button>> <<button "I was horrified. I looked like her, once-- and she had accepted me when I told her I was a trans man. She had held me tight and told me she would always love me. Now, those words were dead with her." "chapter end">><</button>> <<button "I could see all the bits and pieces of myself in her. Now, all those bits and pieces were scattered around the room." "chapter end">><</button>>

She had never lied to me, not once. Her I love yous meant all the more, because I knew she would never lie to me. Those sweet words-- I had full faith in everything she said to me. I knew many saw her as cold, but if any had taken the time to get to know her, I knew they would see her for the loving being she was, a person who was loyal and faithful and kind and so, so loving, someone who gave their heart to everyone in little pieces, creating a community of love. She would never help a stranger again. She would never scold me for sneaking a cookie in the middle of the night (with myself always wondering how she knew). She would never wipe my tears, telling me that everything would be fine. Her hair, the hair she let me run my hands through even though I hurt her sometimes tugging on it as a child, that beautiful hair that people praised the both of us for, our-- <<cycle "$cycleVar" autoselect>> <<option "Long">> <<option "Short">> <<option "Bobbed">> <<option "Shoulder Length">> <</cycle>> <<cycle "$cycleVar" autoselect>> <<option "ebony">> <<option "ginger">> <<option "crimson">> <<option "brown">> <<option "ashy Blonde">> <<option "blonde">> <<option "platinum blonde">> <</cycle>> hair was matted with blood and all hacked up, which had me reaching onto my own head to make sure mine was still intact. I almost breathed a breath of relief when I found it was fine. Her normally healthy <<cycle "$cycleVar" autoselect>> <<option "pale">> <<option "ivory">> <<option "bronze">> <<option "beige">> <<option "amber">> <<option "almond">> <<option "cedar">> <<option "umber">><</cycle>> skin had been peeled off her body, exposing the muscle underneath. Her arms, her legs, and her face had been ridden of her skin. Who-- who would go through such a length? Who would do such a terrible thing? She seemed to stare at me in a warning. No, not in a warning-- in a threat. <<button "Indeed, it felt like I was the one dying-- my mother and I looked so similar, we could have been the same woman." "chapter end">><</button>> <<button "We shared so many of the same features. The look on her face- or, at least, what was left of it, seemed to say //you’re next, boy.// I had never noticed our resemblance so much, as I was a man, but now all the things that made her //her// and me //me// were ripped off of her." "chapter end">><</button>> <<button "I felt sick to my stomach. I looked like her now, although I haven’t always, as a trans woman." "chapter end">><</button>> <<button "I was horrified. I looked like her, once-- and she had accepted me when I told her I was a trans man. She had held me tight and told me she would always love me. Now, those words were dead with her." "chapter end">><</button>> <<button "I could see all the bits and pieces of myself in her. Now, all those bits and pieces were scattered around the room." "chapter end">><</button>>

There was so much blood, I was stepping in it. //Oh. Oh my god.// I was stepping. In her blood. It all rushed to me, all at once. My mother was dead, she was well and truly dead and she must’ve been dead for some time, and someone was here between the last two weeks and had killed her. I couldn’t stop the panic then, even though I knew it was clouding my judgement. And when my vision went blurry and faded into black, and my body felt heavier than usual, I leaned into the feeling. I dimly registered I was passing out into my mother’s pool of blood-- making things worse, if there was any evidence. However, I didn’t have any more bravado to get up, and I couldn’t stop myself from passing out. <<button "End of Demo" "update">><</button>>

Hello! Thank you for playing to this point. I estimate the next update will be by the end of April. For more updates, please go to my tumblr: @thrill-seeker-if! I hope you have a great day!