(set: $creepedOut to false)it's saturday evening and most people have gone home for the short break; you are stuck here because you chose to go to a school on the east coast because it was the farthest you could get away from the reach of your parents and still afford college. "afford." you've got more debt that you knew was possible, but someone allowed you to take out all of those loans. maybe the world will finish this ending, this slow burn flirtation with death, and you won't have to keep sending a chunk of your meager paycheck to someone who makes money off of the lie that this helps you get a job in the future. your sister and her friends are all still unemployed, and they graduated years ago.
>>> [[wander to the chapel|chapel entrance]]
>>> [[wander around the courtyard|courtyard]](set: $creepedOut to true)there's something about the layout of the campus that makes you feel a little bit uncomfortable. it's hard to put a finger on it. you wish that any other east coast school had accepted you, but grey university was the only one that you got in to. surely other campuses don't feel so...what's the word. archaic? no, you like the idea of a campus that looks ancient. maybe it's the whole religious vibe. yeah, that's it. the chapel exists at the center of everything else. it reminds you of a european take on the spanish missions that litter the countryside of california. isn't it weird how back home they didn't talk about the genocide that the missions and el camino real represent? but the chapel calls to you. it towers over the courtyard; its shadow creeping towards your feet.
>>> [[go to the chapel|chapel entrance]]
>>> [[walk away from the chapel|the green]]every time you roam campus, you find yourself coming back to here. in that disney movie you watched as a kid—the one you were obsessed with, *the hunchback of notre dame*—the mother fell onto the steps and cried "sanctuary!" hoping for someone to help her. it's ironic, that the villain was a clergyman. and that murdered her on the steps of the chapel that was supposed to offer her protection.
>>> [[enter|chapel entryway]]you hate this building. it creeps you out in a way that is too visceral to be superstition. (if: $creepedOut is true)[the whole "feeling called to this place" thing doesn't really do the building any favors.] there's also something...buried here. buried in you? what is it?
>>> [[remember|memory start]]
>>> [[look around|chapel description]]you hurry in the opposite direction of the building. something about it sets you on edge. your heart is beating faster even though you're barely speed-walking. your throat feels tight, like someone is grabbing it. squeezing it. over your shoulder, the chapel looms. you never noticed that it sits atop a tiny hill, just big enough to make the building seem taller than it should. it beckons.
>>> [[return to the chapel|chapel entrance]]
>>> [[run from the chapel|the dorms]]you run, run like your life depends on it. and maybe it does, the way your heart is punching your ribs. you catch your breath on a bench and look around to get your bearings. this part of campus is intimately familiar: its the dormitories. your room is the only one with its light on. did you leve your light on? it's eerie when the buildings are empty; it feels like a ghost town.
the tip of the steeple is visible from here. and you feel it: *something wants you in that building.* no, that can't be right. it's just a building. and yet. you can feel it tug at your blood, your bones. *something ****needs**** you in that building.*
>>> [[go to the chapel|chapel entrance]]
>>> [[go to your room|dorm room]]you run up the stairs two at a time. if this place were more modern, there would be an elevator. but it isn't, so you have to climb your way to the seventh floor. you're panting and sweating by the time you get to your door. you unlock it, stumble inside, close the door as quickly as possible, and lean your back against the door.
that was *weird.* what the hell was that feeling? you don't think you've never gotten such a malicious vibe from a building before—especially a building on campus. and you should know, you've wandered campus at night for pretty much the entire time you've been here.
shrugging it off, you shower and get ready for bed. by the time you're brushing your teeth, your heart has slowed down. when you get under the blankets and make yourself cozy, you notice that you can see the courtyard from your window. of course you can, you're so high up. and just beyond the courtyard is the chapel. you hate that building in this moment. groaning, you roll over and pull the cover over your head.
>>> [[go to sleep|sleepwalking]]the cold wakes you. you can't quite remember your dream...someone was calling you. maybe it was the pretty girl from your ge class—cam. you were pretty sure that she was flirting with you the whole semester, but you're too much of a coward to make the first move. the ball's in sam's court now.
your teeth start to chatter and you shake thoughts of cam...her perfect lips, that devious smirk, her smoldering gaze when she shares a private joke with you...from your mind and you try to assess where the hell you are.
oh.
of *fucking* course.
it's the chapel.
somehow you sleepwalked down seven flights of stairs, across the green and the courtyard, and made your way to the front doors of the chapel. which are cracked open, by the way.
and, to top it off (as if things couldn't get any worse than they are right now), you've left your keys—*shit,* and your phone—inside your room. so you're locked out. you'll have to go to the housing office and you don't know if anyone is going to be in there right now. *someone* has to be, right? but the chapel is calling.
>>> [[enter the chapel|chapel entryway]](set: $stairs to false)the priest was talking about prop 8 and marriage. they'd already read a verse that talked about how it was a sin to sleep with a man the way one slept with a woman. you didn't know what that meant. but the priest was talking about "homosexuality" and he said it like it was a dirty word. most of the congregation was listening with rapt attention.
>>> [[you listened|memory homily]]
>>> [[you looked around|memory decription]]it's just a religious building. catholic, probably. or one of those store-brand catholic denominations. you thank the gods that your parents at least had the decency to pick a catholic church; you've heard horror stories about the evangelical churches some of your friends were raised in: concrete buildings, folding chairs, literal nazis in the congregation. at least you got traumatized in a place that didn't look like a motel or a strip mall. it's nice to not get instant bad vibes from any generic building in the crumbling hellscape that is american suburbia.
>>> [[remember|memory start]]"we cannot let the homosexuals threaten our great nation like this! when god created the institution of marriage, it was a *holy* thing. this concept of 'homosexual marraige' is a direct attack on our religion. the homosexuals seek to strip our holy words and ceremonies of their meanings, to bastardize them and desecrate them. they would force us to perform these unholy, degenerate 'marriages' in our very chapels. this is monstrous and a direct threat to our religious freedom. god does not mince words and, as we read earlier, he has declared it an abomination!"
something about this homily made you uncomfortable. you couldn't quite place it. you knew vaguely that prop 8 was about letting gay people marry each other. like two husbands or two wives. that didn't sound all that bad. you supposed that "homosexual" was a mean word for "gay, but people already used "gay" as a mean word. you felt deeply uncomfortable. and a little mad.
>>> [[you looked around|memory decription]]
>>> [[you spaced out|memory later]]the chapel felt like a generic religious building. very catholic, but that was kind of a given, considering you were sitting in mass right then. the pews were uncomfortable and you thought that they were designed that way. even the slightest shift made a creaking sound that set the eyes of half a dozen members of the congregation on you; they were filled with judgement.
>>> [[you spaced out|memory later]]your parents always liked to go to evening mass. back when grandma was still around, you'd go with her. but since she passed, the family still attended the evening service. you came to your senses as the congregation was shuffling out of the pews. honestly, you spent most of your time in that church spacing out. it was always full of things that made you deeply uncomfortable for unnameable reasons.
your parents went off to talk to some family friends—their friends, really. you weren't friends with the older people and they didn't have any kids your age you could talk to. so you wandered around the chapel, exploring the nooks and crannies. that was when you noticed it: a door was left partially open. you slunk over, careful not to draw the unwanted attention of any adults in the area who might lecture you for snooping and trespassing.
>>> [[you slipped behind the door|memory stairs]]
>>> [[you returned to your parents|memory parents]](set: $stairs to true)the doorway opened to a staircase that led down into the bowels of the chapel. it felt eerie. uncomfortable. like something was off. you couldn't help but inch your way further and further into the darkness below. there were muffled voices coming from a room at the end of the hallway the stairs dropped you into; they did not sound happy.
>>> [[you listened|memory exorcism]]
>>> [[chapel stairs]](if: $stairs is false)[they were deep in conversation still. you couldn't get your mom to give you the car keys. you could only return to the open doorway.](else:)["honey you look worried sick." your mom pulled you into a hug. it wasn't comforting. "come on, let's get you to the car so we can go home."]
>>> (if: $stairs is false)[[[you slipped behind the door|memory stairs]]](else:)[[[continue deeper|deeper-00]]]you asked your parents to stop taking you to church after that.
>>> [[continue deeper|deeper-01]]you wished that you could have made any other choice, but it felt like none were afforded to you.
as you crawled your way into earshot, you began to make out the voices.
"...homosexuality, i command you in the name of god! leave this boy! come out of him!"
there was a violent sound; someone had been hit. there was a scream of terror.
"hold him down!"
more noise in the scuffle. more slaps and punches. the screams gave way to cries. the whole time, someone was yelling about demons and homosexuality. you couldn't make sense of it, nor did you want to.
this place made you feel sick and you wanted nothing more than to get out of there. slowly you began to make your way up the steps, terrified that you would make a noise and bring the violence out of the room and onto yourself. as you were reaching the top of the stairs, the boy managed to escape. he ran into the hallway and tried to reach the stairs. but a priest got to him first. he slammed the boy against the wall and roared, "demon! in the name of god! i command you to come out of this boy!" he slapped the boys face.
>>> [[go through the doorway|descent]]how strange that you're exploring this chapel and remembering this. or, you guess, it makes sense. similar architecture and all that. but this memory is so specific, the one about the stairs. you thought you'd pushed that so far down in your mind that it would never resurface.
there is a doorway and you know, *know* that it will open to a staircase that leads down, down, down into the chapel's underside. into its belly. something is screaming in your head not to go through the doorway.
>>> [[remember that you listened|memory exorcism]]you wish that you could have made any other choice, but you find yourself slinking down the stairs. remembering. you don't want to.
>>> [[remember that you ran|memory parents]]you make your way down the steps one at a time, each one making your stomach drop a little lower. there is dread building now. your heart is beating faster, threatening to take off at a gallop. *why are you doing this? why are you walking down these stairs?*
>>> [[remember that you followed your parents|memory end]]
>>> [[continue deeper|deeper-02]]
>>> [[continue deeper|deeper-03]]
>>> [[continue deeper|deeper-04]]"hey."
>>> [[scream]]you scream and it feels like this place eats up the noise. there is no echo.
"sorry, didn't mean to scare you." she smirks as her hand comes to rest upon your shoulder. it's cam(if: $creepedOut is false)[, the girl from your ge class].
>>> [[stare at her|stare]]
>>> [[say something smart|dumb]]*fuck.* she is so pretty you don't know what to say. in fact, you're glad you didn't try to say anything. it would have been an impossible task. she hasn't moved her hand from your shoulder and the touch is electrifying. so you take her in, appreciating her beauty. in this moment, you understand how artists feel when inspiration strikes them. if art has a singular purpose, it is to represent her.
>>> [[blush]]hi.
(click-replace: "hi.")[you're pretty.](click-replace: "you're pretty.")[come here often?](click-replace: "come here often?")[sorry for screaming.](click-replace: "sorry for screaming.")[...](click-replace: "...")[are we about to kiss right now?](click-replace: "are we about to kiss right now?")[hi.](click-replace: "hi.")[you're pretty.](click-replace: "you're pretty.")[come here often?](click-replace: "come here often?")[sorry for screaming.](click-replace: "sorry for screaming.")[...](click-replace: "...")[are we about to kiss right now?](click-replace: "are we about to kiss right now?")[hi.](click-replace: "hi.")[you're pretty.](click-replace: "you're pretty.")[come here often?](click-replace: "come here often?")[sorry for screaming.](click-replace: "sorry for screaming.")[...](click-replace: "...")[are we about to kiss right now?](click-replace: "are we about to kiss right now?")[hi.](click-replace: "hi.")[you're pretty.](click-replace: "you're pretty.")[come here often?](click-replace: "come here often?")[sorry for screaming.](click-replace: "sorry for screaming.")[...](click-replace: "...")[are we about to kiss right now?](click-replace: "are we about to kiss right now?")[hi.](click-replace: "hi.")[you're pretty.](click-replace: "you're pretty.")[come here often?](click-replace: "come here often?")[sorry for screaming.](click-replace: "sorry for screaming.")[...](click-replace: "...")[are we about to kiss right now?](click-replace: "are we about to kiss right now?")[hi.](click-replace: "hi.")[you're pretty.](click-replace: "you're pretty.")[come here often?](click-replace: "come here often?")[sorry for screaming.](click-replace: "sorry for screaming.")[...](click-replace: "...")[are we about to kiss right now?](click-replace: "are we about to kiss right now?")[hi.](click-replace: "hi.")[you're pretty.](click-replace: "you're pretty.")[come here often?](click-replace: "come here often?")[sorry for screaming.](click-replace: "sorry for screaming.")[...](click-replace: "...")[are we about to kiss right now?](click-replace: "are we about to kiss right now?")[hi.](click-replace: "hi.")[you're pretty.](click-replace: "you're pretty.")[come here often?](click-replace: "come here often?")[sorry for screaming.](click-replace: "sorry for screaming.")[...](click-replace: "...")[are we about to kiss right now?](click-replace: "are we about to kiss right now?")[hi.](click-replace: "hi.")[you're pretty.](click-replace: "you're pretty.")[come here often?](click-replace: "come here often?")[sorry for screaming.](click-replace: "sorry for screaming.")[...](click-replace: "...")[are we about to kiss right now?](click-replace: "are we about to kiss right now?")[hi.]
>>> [[say something|stumble]]her smirk gets even more insufferable and you fall even more for her.
>>> [[blush]]"i didn't think you'd still be here on campus." *she remembers who you are!* "and i'm truly sorry for frightening you." her hand is still touching your bare skin. it seems silly for you to have been out this late in a tank top, but you're suddenly glad that you dressed for this; for contact like this. "it's just that i thought everyone had gone home." there's a hunger in her eyes and you hope, hell, you even *pray* that she wants the same thing that you want. "i'm sorry for calling you here. i wish it had been anyone else." *no, no, no,* you want to say. *i want to be here. with you. please. please want me here too.* an emotion flickers across her face, moving too fast for you to parse before the hunger returns. she leans closer to you and suddenly your back is against the wall and she's right there, her breath on your neck.
>>> [[play it cool|freak the fuck out]]"may i?"
>>> [["yes."|yes]]
>>> [["please."|beg]]
>>> [["no."|no]]"good girl," she purrs in your ear. you feel her lips against your bare skin, working their way down your neck with kisses, love bites. you feel euphoric. you moan. your legs are weak. you press yourself into her. you lose yourself in her. she is everything. (text-style: "blurrier")[you are nothing.]
*the end*"good girl," she purrs in your ear. you feel her lips against your bare skin, working their way down your neck with kisses, love bites. you feel euphoric. you moan. your legs are weak. you press yourself into her. you lose yourself in her. she is everything. (text-style: "blurrier")[you are nothing.]
>>> [["please?"|turning]]her expression hardens and there's a flash of something—anger?—behind her eyes. she is devastatingly beautiful, and her sudden change hurts you. why is she mad at you? you try to apologize, to beg for forgiveness, but she doesn't listen. or if she does, she simply does not care. she paces the hallway. you are cold—underdressed for a midnight excursion to the basement of the chapel. slowly, her face settles into a stony mask. completely cold and unfeeling. "bummer, i was hoping that we could have fun." and *oh*, how you want to. *need* to. but it's too late. you've already denied her. "oh well." and she moves fast. faster than you thought possible. one second, she's pacing the hall in front of you, the next, she's behind you with her hands around your head. "food is food and blood is blood." you'd like to know what that means, but before you can ask you hear a horrible sound, like a branch cracking. and then, nothing.
*the end*"oh?" her interest is piqued. she moves away from your neck. pulls back. too far. "are you sure?"
>>> [["please."|turn]]
>>> [["wait..."|no]]she smiles hungrily at you before returning to your neck. you lose yourself in the moment. and then, she's pulling away. *no! come back!* "you're cute when you're needy" she murmurs in your ear. it feels like shes so far from you and yet her voice is right there. "here. drink this." she presses something to your mouth and it is warm. suddenly you are thirsty, so thirsty, and the only thing that can sate you is whatever she's giving you. you drink greedily until she pulls away. "good girl," she says again and again you feel a thrill run through you. you are hers. you are *her* good girl. she holds you now, wrapping her arms around you. "i've got you, darling." and she does. and you are her darling. and that's all that matters.
*the end*
↶↷it's saturday evening and most people have gone home for the short break; you are stuck here because you chose to go to a school on the east coast because it was the farthest you could get away from the reach of your parents and still afford college. "afford." you've got more debt that you knew was possible, but someone allowed you to take out all of those loans. maybe the world will finish this ending, this slow burn flirtation with death, and you won't have to keep sending a chunk of your meager paycheck to someone who makes money off of the lie that this helps you get a job in the future. your sister and her friends are all still unemployed, and they graduated years ago.
>>> wander to the chapel
>>> wander around the courtyard