The Demeter Club

The door to the Demeter Club is bronze and heavy, you pause with your hand on the knob, then you push. It's called a "Club" but there's nothing exciting or clubby about it. The room is empty except for a water dispenser in the corner, an air-conditoner under the ceiling, and a circle of chairs that have been arranged in the center. The seats are filled except one. Yours. [[intro2]] (click:?page)[(goto:"intro2")]

It's a therapy session for murderers such as yourself. There are three men and three women, all avoiding eye contact with you. Their heads are bowed like school children about to be chastized. Only one of the men looks at you, and he does so with an eagerness you resent. He's a middle-aged man with speckles of grey hair in his black afro. He has a big nose and a nice square jaw. He could've looked like a sexy black rockstar if not for his big goofy glasses and baggy clothes: a shirt, crumpled trousers and a tie. [[intro3]] (click:?page)[(goto:"intro3")]

(link: "save")[(save-game: "file A")] "Welcome!" the Afro Man says and gestures to the empty seat. "Please, sit." You take your seat, feeling uneasy as you do so. These are some of the most ruthless "Freelancers" in the industry; people who could kill you with a toothpick or a flower or whatever. You've heard of their reputation, and you're on your guard. If one of them gets angry, you want to see it coming. [[intro4]] (click:?page)[(goto:"intro4")]

"Well!" the black man says brightly. "My name is Anthony Jones, and I'll be your...hm, let's not think of it as //therapist//. I'm simply the guy who's going to act as a medium through which you can solve your problems." One of the killers snorts. It's one of the women. She has her hair piled up high atop her head like ice cream. Her nose is long and her black lipsticked lips are chewing loudly on a piece of gum. Anthony Jones looks at her. "Is there something you want to say, Celeste?" [[intro5]] (click:?page)[(goto:"intro5")]

"Yeah," she says, her tongue expertly twisting the gum while she speaks. "I don't have a //problem// I need to solve." Calm as ever, Anthony says, "You wouldn't have come here if you didn't." She glares at him. "I didn't //want// to come here, fucko. They wanted me to come." [[intro6]] (click:?page)[(goto:"intro6")]

Anthony Jones nods. "But if you didn't want to be here, you wouldn't have come. It wasn't obligatory, was it?" Celeste rolls her eyes, and her glossy black lips keep chewing the gum. You wonder what she's done before. You wonder if those lips have dripped with the blood of her targets, or if she's rolled her eyes when a target died too quickly or too easily. She fascinates you for a bit, but maybe it's only because it turns you on to see killers like her. There's just something about it that does it for you. [[intro7]] (click:?page)[(goto:"intro7")]

When Celeste falls quiet, Anthony continues, looking at the group under his goofy glasses like you're a pack of kindergartners. "You're all required to be here because you've violated the Red Covenant of our organization. But you all came because you want to be better individuals." A retort rises within you. [["I don't know about that, Chief"]] [[Say nothing]] [["Give me a break. The Red Convenant is a joke."]] <div id=restart> (link:"Start Over")[(goto:"Begin")] </div>

"You're here," Anthony continues, "because you've committed acts that have put a strain on your mental health." "My mental health," Celeste says. "is great." "Celeste," Anthony says with a sigh. "You wore a strap-on and fucked one of your targets while choking him to death. You didn't stop until the wire cut off his head, and even then you kept going a while longer." [[celesteshock]] (click:?page)[(goto:"celesteshock")]

Celeste stops chewing her gum and glares at Anthony. Again, you feel a bit aroused wondering what's going through her mind. Is she fantasizing about doing something horrible to him? Will she? She doesn't, to your disappointment. "What the fuck?" she says, spreading her arms. "Why are you putting my business out there?" Anthony is defiant: "We're going to be doing a lot of that, Celeste, get used to it. That's how we're going to get better, by talking about things, by letting go off the pent-up rage we have inside us. You see, as Freelancers, our minds are already very prone to a state of decay due to the //acts// we commit, but when we do them for the ''right'' reasons, we're safe. However, when we cross certain lines, we risk becoming more animal than human, and here in the Demeter Club, we're going to gently urge you back from the dark, over that thin line and back to humanity." [[conti]] (click:?page)[(goto:"conti")]

"Celeste," Anthony says with a sigh. "You wore a strap-on and fucked one of your targets while choking him to death. You didn't stop until the wire cut off his head, and even then you kept going a while longer." [[celesteshock]] (click:?page)[(goto:"celesteshock")]

The entire room is quiet. You aren't sure if, like you, they're all picturing Celeste with a strap-on, maybe naked with her client, sodomizing him while her wire tears into his neck inch by inch, her black lips chewing hard on her gum. Anthony seems to appreciate the silence. After a while, he instructs all of you to practice collective breathing exercises, then he points at Celeste. [[celestecrime]] (click:?page)[(goto:"celestecrime")]

"Celeste," he says. "Since your story is already out, I want you to take us through that night-" "No I won't, you pervert," Celeste snaps. "Go watch porn if you're feeling dicky." "I'm not saying you should go over the details. Let me finish. I'm saying what was your thought process when you were doing it? Why did you do it?" [[celestecrime2]] (click:?page)[(goto:"celestecrime2")]

There's a quiet laugh to your side. It's a lean man in shades. His hair is bushy and tussled, like he just rolled out of bed, and yet he still looks handsome. He has a brown van dyke beard, and he's dressed in an immaculate vest, shorts and sneakers. "Maybe," he says. "She just likes that sort of stuff. Maybe it's what gets her going." "It's not a fetish, asshole," Celeste says, and the elegantly dressed man shrugs. "Then tell us what happened." Anthony says quietly. [[celestecrime3]] (click:?page)[(goto:"celestecrime3")]

Celeste folds her arms. "I don't want to talk about it." "You have to," Anthony insists. "It's how you get better." "I'm feeling great already." "Celeste, I'm doing this because I care about your sanity, but if you're not going to cooperate, you know I'm going to have to tell Authority that you're still unfit." It takes a few seconds, maybe even a minute, of Celeste sitting in silence. You half-expect her to get up and walk away, or launch into Anthony and fuck him up(you hope), but she takes a deep breath and starts to speak. [[celestecrime4]] (click:?page)[(goto:"celestecrime4")]

"Look, the target was in the habit of luring young boys into his hotels and fucking them whether they liked it or not, and most of them didn't or were too young to know better. They went into his hotel because he was a charismatic personality on telly. He'd voiced a lot of popular animated characters so the boys were always excited to meet him. When I got to his place to kill him, I found three eleven year old boys. One of them was tied up to the bed post, ready to be fucked. I let them go and tied the rich voice actor up and did to him what he did to the boys...with my wire sawing at his neck." [[celestecrime5]] (click:?page)[(goto:"celestecrime5")]

"And do you feel," Anthony said, "that what you did was right?" "He was fucking young boys!" "So your solution was to fuck him while you killed him? Are you aware that you're trying to justify your acts by playing some sort of //antihero// role? You're making youself feel better by pretending you did it for the good of mankind." "You're a stupid therapist." "I'm not a therapist, I'm just a medium. Do you think, Celeste, that you've wanted a reason to do something like that for a long time?" Anthony looked at the papers in his hands, shuffled them quickly and stopped at one of them. "Your partner says that you looked like you were enjoying it, and that you moaned." "I did //not// fucking moan. I did not enjoy myself. He was a pig." [[Defend her]] [[Chastize her]] [["Where did you get the strap-on?"]] [[Stay Quiet]]

(set: $defend_celeste to true) "I don't see what she did wrong," you say, and both Anthony and Celeste look at you. "Her target was a vile person. She exacted justice on him before killing him. What's the difference?" "Well," Anthony says. "Do you think, then, that it's okay to be like our killers? Don't you think that in that moment, under the guise of justice, Celeste became close to a monster herself?" You shrug. "I don't think so." [[continue]] (click:?page)[(goto:"continue")]

(set: $defend_celeste to false) "You're a pig fucker, then?" You say. "He was a pig, and you fucked him, right?" She glares at you, and her lips stop moving on the gum. "I'm sorry, asshole, was I speaking to you?" [[Double down]] [[Don't antagonize her further]]

"Was the strap-on his or yours?" You ask Celeste. The question throws her a bit off-balance before she says, "Does it fucking matter?" she says. You shrug. "I think it does. If it was yours, it means you sent a strap-on to work. It means you were hoping you could use it." "No it wasn't fucking mine, what the hell is wrong with you? It was the target's. Why would I send a strap-on to work?" You shrug again. "Just asking." "If she'd carried the strap-on with her," Anthony says to you. "What would you have said about that?" [[Defend her]] [[Chastize]]

"I feel," Anthony says. "That you acted out your sexual frustration on him, but you told yourself it was for "justice" because our minds want to protect us from the truth sometimes. Being a Freelancer can be tedious and lonely, and there's no time for emotional connection or even sexual exploration, and so your shadow broke lose and acted out on the target. It's the kind of thing we're going to be dealing with here. I want you to think about that." "I'll forget it as soon as I'm out this fucking door." Anthony ignores her, turning to the rest of the group. [[go2]] (click:?page)[(goto:"go2")]

(set: $angered_celeste to true) "It's a group therapy session," you say. "You're speaking to everyone." Suddenly Celeste flies off her chair, and she's coming for you, but you have been on your guard. You get up, ready to meet her, wondering what she's going for? A punch? A kick? Your eyes search her. Does she have a weapon concealed on her body somewhere? But before she gets to you Anthony and the elegantly dressed man step in and hold her back. She struggles for a long time against them like a feral animal, and it takes considerable effort for her to be persuaded back into her seat. When she does, her hair has undone itself and she's staring daggers at you. [[go]] (click:?page)[(goto:"go")]

You raise your hands briefly in surrender. She glares at you for a while, and you can almost feel violent intent from her piercing your skin. You look away, and after a while, she does too. [[go]] (click:?page)[(goto:"go")]

When the tension dies down a bit, and Anthony has given you a thorough warning on not antagonizing the fellow 'patients', he says to Celeste: "I feel...that you acted out your sexual frustration on him, but you told yourself it was for "justice" because our minds want to protect us from the truth sometimes. Being a Freelancer can be tedious and lonely, and there's no time for emotional connection or even sexual exploration, and so your shadow broke loose and acted out on the target. It's the kind of thing we're going to be dealing with here. I want you to think about that." "I'll forget it as soon as I'm out this fucking door." Anthony ignores her, turning to the rest of the group. [[go2]] (click:?page)[(goto:"go2")]

"Now," Anthony says, smiling at you. "Why don't //you// introduce yourself to the group? "But nobody else did it," you say. "They did. You were late, if you'll remember. We're supposed to meet at 9pm. You were a good thirty minutes late." [[Tell them your name]] (click:?page)[(goto:"Tell them your name")]

(set: $name to (prompt: "What is your name?", "Andrews")) "Hi, $name," Anthony says, and the rest of the group mumbles the same thing half-heartedly. "Tell us a bit about yourself. Do you live with your family?" "Hardly a thing to answer in front of all these killers, is it?" "None of them is interested in harming you," Anthony says. "It's in the Red Covenant, you know this." "Yeah, and we're really good at sticking to the Covenant, evidently." "We all introduced ourselves," the elegantly dressed man says beside you. "Don't be a cunt." [[Your parents are alive in your homecountry, but you live alone.]] [[Your parents are dead, killed in a war that forced you to escape into this city]]

(set: $parents_alive to true) "That's great," Anthony says. "Are you in a relationship?" You glance at the three other women in the group. They're beautiful. They're killers. They're your kind. [[You're in a turbulent relationship]] [[You're single //(a white lie. You haven't officially broken up, but can you be expected to wait?)//]]

(set: $parents_alive to false) "Awful to hear," Anthony says, "but not unusual in this business, I guess. It's like almost every Freelancer's origin story. Are you in a relationship?" You glance at the three other women in the group. They're beautiful. They're killers. They're your kind. [[You're in a turbulent relationship]] [[You're single //(a white lie. You haven't officially broken up, but can you be expected to wait?)//]]

(set: $relationship to true) "It's a complicated one," you say, and Anthony nods sagely, a bit sadly. "It always is with you people. What sort of Freelancer are you?" //of course, you're skilled in every manner of death, but everyone has their proclivities. // [[Earth(you like to be up and close. Master of infiltration, disguise, deception).]] [[Air(you keep your distance when you can. You hit the target and get out before anybody realizes what's happened).]]

(set: $relationship to false) "I'm single," you say. Anthony nods sagely, a bit sadly, and you hate him for it. You don't want to be pitied. You're not pitiful or pathetic. "What sort of Freelancer are you?" //of course, you're skilled in every manner of death, but everyone has their proclivities. // [[Earth(you like to be up and close. Master of infiltration, disguise, deception).]] [[Air(you keep your distance when you can. You hit the target and get out before anybody realizes what's happened).]]

None of you speak to another as you exit the room, walk silently through the quiet corridor and step into the chilly night outside. A few cars are parked in the lot. The city proper looms in the distance with its light-studded skyscrapers. The other killers start heading off into their cars, except James, who seems to be walking. You wonder if you should talk to some of the ones that haven't already driven off. [[Talk to Celeste]] [[Talk to James]] [[Just go home]]

(set: $apologizeToCeleste to true) She's already at her car; a black, sleek salon beauty. You approach her and when she hears you coming she spins around. (if:$angered_celeste is true)[Her expression darkens. It's one you recognize. It's one that's been on your face before. You see her hand clutch the car key so that the pointy end is visible, ready to embed itself into your neck or eye. You pause and don't dare move an inch closer. Her hair is still scattered from when she tried to attack you. "Make a move, boy," she says calmly. "Just make a move and let's get it on." "I don't want to fight you," you say. "I just came to apologize. I didn't mean to piss you off." "Get the fuck away from me. Get the fuck away or I swear to God-" "Okay, okay!" You turn around and walk away. [[walk away]] (click:?page)[(goto:"walk away")] ] (else:)["What do you want?" She says cautiously. "No, I'm not going to talk about the strap-on thing with you." You smile. "I wasn't going to ask." "Good." She opens the car door and pauses with one hand on it, waiting for you to speak. "I thought we could get a drink somewhere," you say. [[celestefuck]] (click:?page)[(goto:"celestefuck")] ] (set: $jamesInCar to false)

"Hey, James!" You call out. He turns, lifts his glasses, as if surprised to hear his name out here. "Need a lift?" you say. He seems to think about it for a bit, then he shrugs and nods. [[jamescar]] (click:?page)[(goto:"jamescar")] (set: $apologizeToCeleste to false) (set: $fkedCeleste to false)

You don't trust these people. You don't want to talk to anybody. They probably aren't very likable anyway. You sit in your car and start it. Just before you pull out, you spot Bertha two cars away. She's the tall woman in the brown overcoat, buttoned up to her neck as if it's extremely cold, which it's not. She's waving at you. You wave back. In a few minutes you're cruising through the quiet residential streets. It's not until you hit a little bit of traffic when you feel an instinctive, familiar prick run down your neck. You look into the side window, and you see someone looking right at you. They're sitting on a motorbike, and they have a black helmet on so you can't see their face. [[nexxxt]] (click:?page)[(goto:"nexxxt")] (set: $jamesInCar to false) (set: $fkedCeleste to false)

Well, fuck her then. Hands pocketed, you walk back to your car. The rest are gone, and Celeste's car pulls away quickly after. Before you open your car door, you see a flash nearby in the street, and you freeze. For a moment you imagine vividly that you're on a job and that someone's pointed a sniper at you, but the light seems to come from a smartphone across the street. You're not sure, but it seems like someone took a picture of you. [[ending]] (click:?page)[(goto:"ending")] (set: $fkedCeleste to false) (set: $jamesInCar to false)

(set: $fkedCeleste to true) "A drink?" She laughs. "Jesus //Christ//, what are we, like the civilians? Have you never asked out another Freelancer?" "Not really?" "Well, do it again like you were me. Like you're asking yourself out." "Okay: I'm attracted to you and I'd like to fuck you." She doesn't smile, only bites her dark lips. "You were turned on by the strap-on story, weren't you? And who's fucked up?" [[celestefuck2]] (click:?page)[(goto:"celestefuck2")] (set: $jamesInCar to false)

In three minutes you're both in the backseat of Celeste's car. She's on top of you, and she's as wild as you'd imagined, moving her body against yours so hard that the leather seat squeaks and groans. Your moans mix with hers, the car quickly becomes stuffy and sweaty. She has her jeans off but her panties are still around one leg. There's no kissing, no show of 'intimacy'. You're both just wild animals satisfying your hunger, broken people in primitive lust. She feels extremely good, but maybe it's just because you were so hot for her before. The whole thing is rushed. You aren't sure if she comes, but once you're through, you both put your clothing back on. "Can't wait to hear //your// story," she says before she drives off, leaving you standing in the parking lot. [[aftersex]] (click:?page)[(goto:"aftersex")]

The whole encounter leaves you feeling sadder than you'd have liked. What is wrong with you? You fucked her, what more do you want? It occurs to you that she may've only done it with you to assure herself that it wasn't fucking dying men that turned her on. It also occurs to you, as you think back to your brief session in the car, that she hadn't been sexually satisfied, and you start wondering what it would take to satisfy a woman like that. You start wondering what it would take for //you// to satisfy her. Before you open your car door, you see a flash nearby in the street, and you freeze. For a moment you imagine vividly that you're on a job and that someone's pointed a sniper at you, but it seems to be light from a smartphone. You're not sure, but it seems like someone took a picture of you. [[ending]] (click:?page)[(goto:"ending")]

(set: $jamesInCar to true) James sits next to you in the passenger seat and extends his hand. "James," he says, and you shake it. "$name." You start the car and drive out of the lot. The streets are quiet. This is a more residential area, and there's nothing but stores that are closed and homes that are asleep and dogs that won't shut up. Only a few people are on the sidewalk: late-night shifts going to work or day-workers coming home. There's a bit of an awkward silence in the car. You haven't switched on the radio because you don't like it, so only the quiet engine and the hum of the A.C gives you company. Then James says, "What do you think about the Club?" [[james1]] (click:?page)[(goto:"james1")]

"It's ridiculous," you answer, glad for the end of the silence. "Utter bullshit." "Adam seems to believe in it." "Really? Which one's Adam?" "The short bald one. I think he's an Air." "He thinks there's really a line we might've crossed?" James shrugs. "I didn't ask him anymore. Anyone who thinks we did anything wrong is deluded and I don't want to talk to them." [[james2]] (click:?page)[(goto:"james2")]

James looks out of the window, almost like he's searching for something, but you're not sure because of those dark glasses. "I don't think I really care," he says dreamily. "I just wanna clear this thing and get back to my job." He turns to you. "Don't you miss it?" You pause. [["I do"]] [["I dunno."]]

"Everyday," you say. "Wait, stop the car here." "Why?" "Just stop. Now!" You press the brakes and the car sways to a stop. "Look there!" [[james3]] (click:?page)[(goto:"james3")]

"I dunno." "How can you not know? I think we all miss it. Poor Celeste probably misses it more than anyone else. The freak can only get turned on with dying men. She scares me, honestly. Anybody who's mixing sex and blood and death like that scares me." (if:$angered_celeste is false)["I dunno," you say. "She kinda attracts me." James turns around and lifts his glasses again, showing you his blue eyes, then he bursts into laughter. "You like them crazy, I see. Well, be careful, man. It might be your last orgasm." He suddenly jerks upright and says, "Stop the car." "Why?" "Just stop it. Now!" You press the brake and the car sways to a stop. "Look there!" [[james3]] (click:?page)[(goto:"james3")]] (else:)["We're all fucked up," you say. "Oh, but I think we'll find that none of us have done anything that equals hers." James suddenly jerks upright. "Wait, stop the car." "Why?" "Just stop it. Now!" You press the brake and the car sways to a stop. "Look there!" [[james3]] (click:?page)[(goto:"james3")]]

In an alleway between two buildings- a jewellery shop and a boutique- a group of masked men are trying to force their way into one of the windows. "Burglers," James says, then looks at you. You narrow your eyes at him. "This is why you wanted to walk isn't it? You were looking for someone to beat up." He grins, and it's a charming one. He reminds you of Johnny Cage from the Mortal Kombat games. "Don't say you don't feel it too. We're //machines//. We itch for this kind of stuff. We can't be stuck for months without doing our job. "Are you gonna come with me? It'll be fun." [[Go with him. You're a machine.]] [[Sit it out. Don't back him up]]

(set: $foughtByJames to true) You both exit the car. Adrenaline builds up within you, which is good. When you'd first become a Freelancer, you scolded yourself for feeling anxious, and you wanted to eradicate the emotion completely, but you've learned over the years that a little bit of adrenaline was good. It makes you alert, quick, decisive. "Hey guys," James says as you both approach the burglers. They freeze and look at you. Some of them are wielding pliers, others crowbars. You can't see a gun yet, if there's any. You know that James is accessing the scene too, though the subtlety you both take to do it can only be detected by the highly trained. [[james4]] (click:?page)[(goto:"james4")]

(set: $foughtByJames to false) You shake your head. "I don't feel like it tonight. Let's just go." "Nah man, let me off," James says and exits the car. You watch him silently as he approaches the black-clad burglars. "Hey!" He says, catching their attention. They freeze and turn to him. "Get back!" One of them shouts, waving a crowbar at him. Most of them are holding crowbars and pliers and, in one case, a rusted machete. When they realize that James isn't stopping, they swarm him. He becomes a harbringer of pain in the darkness, an angel of destruction, weaving in and out of their attacks like he's doing a dance. Only a few blows reach him, but none are strong enough to topple him. When he's done, the burglars are lying on the floor, groaning and screaming and bleeding from uncomfortable places. Some of them lie so motionless you're sure they're dead. [[james6]] (click:?page)[(goto:"james6")]

"Step back!" One of the goons warns, and when they see that you aren't going to, they rush towards you and James. It's a cakewalk. Both of you are harbringers of justice and pain, lashing out at the sinners in the darkness of the alley. None of their weapons hit you, and in a few minutes they're lying on the ground, bleeding through their nostrils and eyeballs. Some are lying in awkward positions and you're pretty sure they're dead. You kick one of them just to be sure. He or she doesn't respond. "Phew," James says. His knuckles are soaked in blood. He takes out a handkerchief and cleans it, then he tosses it to you. "Your face." You find a clean spot in the hanky and dab your forehead and cheeks. In no time the white handkerchief is completely soaked in red. [[james5]] (click:?page)[(goto:"james5")]

You and James examine your work, then James pats you on the back like you're old friends. "That was good. They didn't put up a challenge, but this was nice." A little breathless, you say, "It was." You start walking back to the car, but James says, "I'm going to walk from here, man. Sorry, but I don't really trust you that much." "What's become of this world?" You say. "A man helps another man maim a few burglars and still doesn't get trust?" He grins. "It's okay," you say. "I don't trust you either." You shake hands, and he walks the other way, leaping over the bodies. It's when you get in the car that you realize that someone has been watching from the other side of the street. You search your memory, and you aren't very sure, but it feels like they'd followed you and James from the Demeter Club. [[ending]] (click:?page)[(goto:"ending")]

Part 2 (text-style:"expand")[//"This thing of darkness I acknowledge mine."//] ''-William Shakespeare.'' ~~<h1> The Demeter Club </h1> ~~ (link:"Play Part 2")[(goto:"Part 2")] (link:"Replay Part 1")[(goto:"Begin")] (link:"Credits")[(goto:"Credits")]

James kicks one of them, and sure enough, they don't move. He looks at you and grins. His knuckles are covered in blood. He takes out a white handkerchief and dabs at them. "I'll see you later, $name!" He says. "You live around?" "Yes or no. Maybe. The thing is, I don't really trust you so..." "That's alright. I don't trust you either." He nods. "Until the next meeting, then!" He turns and walks away, and you're quite certain that his opinion of you has dropped several levels. Why didn't you join in? You know you //wanted// to. You could feel the bloodlust rising inside you like a slowly uncoiling snake, just like it did for Celeste. And yet you denied yourself the pleasure. [[nexxt]] (click:?page)[(goto:"nexxt")]

You start the car up, but before you move you feel a prickling, instinctive sensation run through the back of your neck. You look. Across the street, someone's been watching you. You search quickly through your memories, and you can't be sure, but it seems like they'd followed you out of the Demeter Club. They turn and disappear before you can decide what to do. [[ending]] (click:?page)[(goto:"ending")]

You search quickly through your mind, replaying your drive till now. You can't be sure, but it seems they've been following you since the Demeter Club. The traffic eases on and the motorbike bursts out of view. [[ending]] (click:?page)[(goto:"ending")]

~~<h1> The Demeter Club </h1> ~~ //justice. murder. monsters.// [[Begin]] //the game autosaves your progress. get to a checkpoint to reload/restart.// [[Credits]]

Anthony looks at you for a bit, almost with disappointment, then he turns to Celeste and says, "Anyway, I feel...that you acted out your sexual frustration on him, but you told yourself it was for "justice" because our minds want to protect us from the truth sometimes. Being a Freelancer can be tedious and lonely, and there's no time for emotional connection or even sexual exploration, and so your shadow broke lose and acted out on the target. It's the kind of thing we're going to be dealing with here. I want you to think about that." "I'll forget it as soon as I'm out this fucking door." Anthony ignores her, turning to the rest of the group. [[go2]] (click:?page)[(goto:"go2")]

{  (set: $_version to "VERSION 1.0") (set: $_autosave_slot to "autosave") (set: $_autosave_filename to "save v"+$_version) (set: $_start_passage to "StartGame") }

{  (unless: (passage:)'s tags contains "nosave")[ (save-game: $_autosave_slot, $_autosave_filename) ] }

~~<h1> The Demeter Club </h1> ~~ //justice. murder. monsters.// {   (unless: (saved-games:) contains $_autosave_slot and (datavalues: (saved-games:)) contains $_autosave_filename)[(goto: $_start_passage)] }''[[NEW GAME->$_start_passage]] (link: "CONTINUE")[(load-game: $_autosave_slot)]    ''

"Better person?" You say. "What does that even mean? I'm only here because I want to get back to work." One of the other killers looks at you; a short man with receding hair. You don't hold his gaze. "In any case," Anthony says. "You're here because you've committed certain foul acts that have put a strain on your mental health." "My mental health," Celeste says. "Is okay." [[next]] (click:?page)[(goto:"next")]

"I would say that's not normal behaviour." "He was a pedophile pig!" Celeste protests. [[Chastize her]] (click:?page)[(goto:"Chastize her")]

(set: $earth to true) "Ah," Anthony says. "Then you may have much in common with Celeste, James, Tsu and Bertha." He points them out as he speaks, and you look at them quickly. James is the well-dressed man beside you with the shades. Tsu is, suprisingly, not an Asian, but a dark man who's more physically built than any of you. Bertha is a tall woman in a brown overcoat and high heels. She has long hair all over her face, draped around her shoulders. Again, it excites you wondering how each of these people have killed their countless targets. [[inmiddle]] (click:?page)[(goto:"inmiddle")]

"Ah," Anthony says. "Then you may have much in common with Sonya and Adam, who are also Air Freelancers. The rest are all Earth." He points them out as he speaks, and you look at them quickly. Sonya is the short and heavy woman, but she's attractively curvaceous and is wearing a crop-top and flowery, large trousers. Adam is equally short with a balding head. [[inmiddle2]] (click:?page)[(goto:"inmiddle2")] (set: $earth to false)

"What a load of rubbish," you say. "The Red Convenant is a joke. It's okay for us to kill when the clients tell us to, but if we do a little bit more it's suddenly 'unethical'?" "It really is trash," Celeste says, and you're glad she agrees with you. "Celeste," Anthony says with a sigh. "You wore a strap-on and fucked one of your targets while choking him to death. You didn't stop until the wire cut off his head, and even then you kept going a while longer. I think //that's// unethical no matter how you say it." [[celesteshock]] (click:?page)[(goto:"celesteshock")]

Your apartment is on the edge of the city, overlooking a lovely beach. You like the constant chilly breeze the sea brings to your room, and these days you've taken to walking on the shore, watching the couples in the sand or the loud seagulls swooping in to catch fish. Sometimes you just sit near the water's edge and let it lap over your toes as you watch the empty horizon, not thinking of anything profound, just content to sit still and empty your mind for once in a long while. [[apt]] (click:?page)[(goto:"apt")]

But the charm of the beach has worn off, and now you're feeling more agitated than rested. You need to be //doing// something. At this point, you'll take any job, even ones that are meant for novice Freelancers. You miss planning your kills, the weeks of study and tailing, the investigations, the disguises, all of which were just foreplay for the kill itself. When the foreplay was done right, the kills were extremely rewarding. Standing in your boxers with a cup of warm tea in your hand, you stare out to the beach, and now you hate the very sight of it. You've become stagnant. You can't enjoy being stable like those people jumping around in the sand. You're not like them. You're a machine and you'll rust if you don't work. [[apt1]] (click:?page)[(goto:"apt1")]

But what can you do about it? (if:(history: where its name contains "Go with him. You're a machine.")'s length is 1)[Beating up those burglars last night was fun, but you're not Batman. You can't roam around the streets looking for bad guys to fight. Besides, even though James seemed to really enjoy it, it just wouldn't be the same for you. You want the big meat. The greedy politicians and the fascists and the business moguls. That's where your talents lie. Your phone rings, interrupting your thoughts. Your tea has already gone cold. You sigh inwardly and turn away from the window. [[apt2]] (click:?page)[(goto:"apt2")]] (else-if:(history: where its name contains "Sit it out. Don't back him up")'s length is 1)[You think back to James beating up those burglars last night. That had looked tempting. James seemed to have really enjoyed it, and you're kind of regretting not joining him. But you know it wouldn't have been enough for you anyway. They were little dogs. You like the pitbulls; the greedy politicians and the fascists and the business moguls and the sex traffickers. That's where your talents lie. Your phone rings, interrupting your thoughts. Your tea has already gone cold. You sigh inwardly and turn away from the window. [[apt2]] (click:?page)[(goto:"apt2")]] (else-if:(history: where its name contains "nexxxt")'s length is 1)[You think of the other Demeter members. Are they feeling the same? You haven't met a lot of other Freelancers, so you don't know what they do in their "free time". From what Celeste said yesterday, you know they're as fucked up as you are(maybe more), but do they feel this urge to be on a job so badly? You wish you could've spoken to one of them yesternight, but you're also quite certain you made the right choice. You can't really trust them. But you feel so abandoned. For a wild moment, a part of you fantasizes about going out into the streets and unleashing your rage on some criminals, but you know it won't satisfy you. They're little dogs. You want the pitbulls; the greedy politicians and the fascists and the business moguls and the sex traffickers. That's where your talents lie. [[phonerings]] (click:?page)[(goto:"phonerings")] ] (else:)[In your boredom your mind travels back to last night with Celeste, and a part of you wishes you had her number. Your few minutes together had not gone as expected. Instead of bliss, she'd left you wanting more. It was as if something vital had been missing in the sex, but you can't really place it. Sex has always been a way for you to escape the feeling of purposelessness that hovers over you like a dark fog when you're not on a job. In a way, being on a job gives you the same thrill as sex does, and when you're not doing it, you need something to replace the emptiness in your chest. For a wild moment, a part of you fantasizes about going out into the streets and unleashing your rage on some criminals, but you know it won't satisfy you. They're little dogs. You want the pitbulls; the greedy politicians and the fascists and the business moguls and the sex traffickers. That's where your talents lie. [[phonerings]] (click:?page)[(goto:"phonerings")] ]

The apartment is a beautiful thing. It's expensive, but you can afford it. The too-large bed is crumpled because you've never dressed it since you arrived, but apart from that, everything looks as if no one has touched it in years. You don't use the kitchen because you don't cook. You don't turn on the TV, you haven't pulled back the curtains in the living room. You're almost a dead man in here. The phone stops and starts ringing again. Your jeans lie on the grey living room couch. You dig your hands into the pockets, tossing your driver's license aside before you find the smartphone, but just as you grab it the ringing stops. You stare at the screen: [[calls]] (click:?page)[(goto:"calls")]

There are three calls from Stacy, your "ex". You don't like the term because it doesn't feel like it really encompasses what she is to you. You never really 'dated' in the first place. There are also two missed calls from an unknown number. [[First, call Stacy back(it might be important).]] [[First, call the unknown number]]

The line rings for a long while, and you just know she's staring at her phone, making it look like she's not eager to pick up. True to your suspicions, she picks at the last minute. "Stacy," you say. Her little squeaky voice is abrupt. "I need to come get my things from your place. Tell me when you're ready. Goodbye." She hangs up. You call back. [[stacy]] (click:?page)[(goto:"stacy")]

You call the Unknown Number back. It connects almost immediately. (if:$jamesInCar is true)["Where in God's name have you been? How many times have I called you now?" "Wait," you say. "James?" "Uh-huh." "How the hell did you get my number?" "That's not important at the moment. Listen to me, we seem to be in a little trouble." [[trouble]] (click:?page)[(goto:"trouble")]] (else:)["It's a lady, isn't it?" You recognize the Voice. "What are you talking about?" "There's some chick in your bed keeping you from answering my calls, isn't there? You never let my calls ring too long." "Because I'm not active, haven't you heard? I'm in therapy right now." "I'll keep the therapist in my prayers." You don't know the name of the caller but you know the Voice. It works for the Authority, but it's not a Freelancer-at least as far as you know. Occasionally, when the Authority has needed to speak to you or give you different instructions whilst on the job, it's the voice that tells you. You and it became voice-friends in a particularly dicey job where you had to talk to each other for hours on end. [[voice]] (click:?page)[(goto:"voice")] ]

She doesn't pick up at all this time, but you know her trickeries. You call again, and she picks up halfway through the rings. "Stacy," you say wearily. "You don't have things here. You never really lived here, do you remember that?" "I do have things," she says quickly. She's always speaking quickly. Maybe she'd make a good rapper, if rapid talking was all it took. "Oh yeah? What kind of things?" "I left a bag full of my psychology textbooks." "No you didn't." Her voice picks up, squeaking even more. It amuses you a bit when she gets mad. "I did! Oh, what, you're not going to give me my textbooks? Is that it? Fine, you can keep them!" [[stacy1]] (click:?page)[(goto:"stacy1")]

"Now, hold on, Stacy, I never said that. Where's the bag?" "Should be in the guest room. I went to study there once." "Let me check." You pad to the room beside yours. This place is even more untouched. The bed is smaller and perfectly laid, and the sunlight streaming from the open window makes the white tiles on the floor twinkle. There's a desk and chair to the side, and a black bag is on the desk. It's open, and several heavy textbooks spill out of its mouth. "Alright, it's here." "Can I come get it?" You think you hear a touch of hope in her tone. "I guess so." She says nothing, just hangs up. [[books]] (click:?page)[(goto:"books")]

You're about to leave the room when your eyes catch the cover of one of the books, buried under several others. You've held that book in your hands so many times you can spot it a kilometer away. You take it out of Stacy's textbook pile. The cover is bright, with a freeze-frame of a bunch of children leaping into the air under a yellow sun. The title says //"Basic English"//, and when you flip it open, the pages you see //are// english topics. However, when you open it from the back, like the Japanese do, you discover that there several passages written on the underside of the fake pages. It's made to look like essays, but these are the rules of the Red Covenant. How did Stacy get it? Fucking //dolt//, you curse yourself. This isn't a book to leave around. Has she read it? Maybe she just picked it up from wherever careless place you'd left it because she'd been stunned to find //Basic English// in an english-speaking grown-man's apartment. [[books1]] (click:?page)[(goto:"books1")]

You'll have to ask her when she comes whether she's read it. You'll know if she's lying, not only because you've been trained to read people when they're lying-it doesn't always work, some people are really good lairs- but because Stacy can't lie to save her life. She'd start shifting and fidgeting and avoiding eye-contact. This book though, the sight of it brings you memories, from when you started out as a Freelancer, being told to study the passages religiously. [[Open the book]] [[Go and call the unknown number]]

(set: $readBook to true) (if:(history: where its name contains "freetime4")'s length is 0)[ You flip the English textbook backwards and pause at one of the Covenant passages. //Killing or causing injury to a fellow Freelancer is a punishable offence, and no Freelancer should interrupt or distract another Freelancer on the job. However, if a Freelancer stands in the way of you and your target, you should use any means necessary to clear the path to your goal, including murder. This is acceptable, and if brought under investigation, the Authority will not find you guilty. // You remember this one very vividly, and you're sure many Freelancers do too. It's one of the rules that keep you people focusing your skills on the deserving, and not on each other. It's the rule that makes a thing like the Demeter Club possible. It's the same- The phone rings again. You drop the book and storm to the living room before it stops. It's the Unknown Number. [[Go and call the unknown number]] (click:?page)[(goto:"Go and call the unknown number")]] (else:)[ You flip the English textbook backwards and pause at one of the passages. //Killing or causing injury to a fellow Freelancer is a punishable offence, and no Freelancer should interrupt or distract another Freelancer on the job. However, if a Freelancer stands in the way of you and your target, you should use any means necessary to clear the path to your goal, including murder. This is acceptable, and if brought under investigation, the Authority will not find you guilty. // You remember this one very vividly, and you're sure many Freelancers do too. It's one of the rules that keep you people focusing your skills on the deserving, and not on each other. It's the rule that makes a thing like the Demeter Club possible. It's a rule, one of your trainers once said, that kept Freelancers from acting like animals. [[Read More]] [[Drop the book]] ]

You call the Unknown Number back. It connects almost immediately. (if:$jamesInCar is true)["Where in God's name have you been? How many times have I called you now?" "Wait," you say. "James?" "Uh-huh." "How the hell did you get my number?" "That's not important at the moment. Listen to me, we seem to be in a little trouble." [[trouble]] (click:?page)[(goto:"trouble")]] (else:)["It's a lady, isn't it?" You recognize the voice immediately. "What are you talking about?" "There's some chick in your bed keeping you from answering my calls, isn't there? You never let my calls ring too long." "Because I'm not active, haven't you heard? I'm in therapy right now." "I'll keep the therapist in my prayers." You don't know the name of the caller but you know the voice. It works for the Authority, though it's not a Freelancer-at least as far as you know. Occasionally, when the Authority has needed to speak to you or give you different instructions whilst on the job, it's the voice that tells you. You and it became voice-friends during a particularly dicey job where you had to talk to each other for hours on end. [[voice]] (click:?page)[(goto:"voice")]]

"We? What trouble are //we// in?" But you already have a guess. (if:$foughtByJames is true)["The burglars we beat up...one of them got your plate number. I have a contact who's told me they're tracing the car. Now please tell me it isn't really your car. //Please// tell me it's a company car." If it was a company car, you could've just driven it to some distant street and left it there; they'd never be able to trace it to you. "It's not," you say, looking at the discarded driver's license on the sofa. "That's not good." Like him, it's not the police you're afraid of, it's the fact that if Authority heard this they would know that you and James have broken your therapy agreement. And police reports about Freelancers tend to get to Authority most often than not. [[trouble2]] (click:?page)[(goto:"trouble2")] ] (else:)["The burglars I beat up...one of them got your plate number. I have a contact who's told me they're tracing the car. Now please tell me it isn't really your car. //Please// tell me it's a company car." If it was a company car, you could've just driven it to some distant street and left it there; they'd never be able to trace it to you. "It's not," you say, looking at the discarded driver's license on the sofa. "That's not good." Like him, it's not the police you're afraid of, it's the fact that if Authority heard this they would know that you and James have broken your therapy agreement. And police reports about Freelancers tend to get to Authority most often than not. Of course, you didn't partake in James's game yesternight, but it was //your// car they found. No one, certainly not Authority, is going to believe you just sat by and watched. [[trouble2]] (click:?page)[(goto:"trouble2")] ]

The Voice always sounds strange, and you're sure it's been distorted so that you won't be able to recognize it in real life. As a result, it's neither distinctly masculine nor feminine. It hovers in the middle, but it's full of emotion in its inflections and pronunciations, so you know it's not an AI. "I actually called you about the //Demeter Club//," it says. "A few weeks ago I didn't even know it existed, but of course //you// do." "Hey, you know I'm big fish. I commune with the sharks. But let's be serious, I gotta proposition for you." "What is it?" You say cautiously. "Don't sound so alarmed, it's nothing serious. In fact, it benefits you." [[voice1]] (click:?page)[(goto:"voice1")]

(set: $voiceQuest to true) You sit down on the grey sofa you haven't used in months. "Let's hear this proposition." "It's a group therapy you're in, right?" "Yeah..." "Do you trust the others?" "Of course I don't trust them. I wouldn't trust myself if I weren't myself." "Well, what if you had something that could make you prepared, in case one of them takes a disliking to you and endangers your life?" It's something you've thought about since you met the others last night. You're all psychopaths, but if one of them is going to snap, you need to be ahead. "What are you suggesting?" "I happen to know the location of a certain folder not very far from you. And in this folder is everything you need to know about your new friends. And let me just say...there are things you need to know." [[voice2]] (click:?page)[(goto:"voice2")]

"So just tell me," you say. "No, you won't, because this isn't a favour, is it? You want something too." "I do, //hombre//. In that same location, you will find a hard drive that has...//stuff// on me. I want you to get it for me." "What stuff? Are you in trouble?" There's a pause, then the sexless voice says, "Not if you help me." You've never heard this much fear and anxiety in the Voice before. It's usually calm and collected when it comes to you, making lewd jokes whilst you're in the middle of a job. This kind of breaks the illusion that it's just a voice. Now it's a real human being in trouble with the Authority. "C'mon $name, a favour for a favour. I swear I'm not lying about your folder. There are things you need to see in it, and I wish I could tell you but I really need your help into that building." [[voice3]] (click:?page)[(goto:"voice3")]

"What's the risk?" You say. The voice gets all business-like again. "Just local police. That shouldn't be a problem for you. You'll discard them." "I have to do it discreetly, remember? I'm not supposed to be active. I'm not supposed to be anywhere near a weapon till this shit with the Demeter Club is over." You're fucked if you're caught. And by fucked, you're dead. But that folder on the Club members sounds important. The Voice certainly thinks there's something there you should see. [[Help the Voice, get the folder on the Demeter Club members.]] [[Don't stick your neck out. The Voice is on its own]]

"Okay," you say. You're already up, moving into the bedroom. You tuck the phone between your shoulder and your cheek, then you press your palm against the wardrobe mirror. It slides aside to reveal an alcove filled with a few pistols, a machine gun, your favorite collection of knives, and a bulletproof vest. You stare at it for a while, and you feel a familiar tingle creep up your spine. "Where exactly is this location you speak of?" [[corp]] (click:?page)[(goto:"corp")]

"I can't," you say. "I'm sorry." //"C'mon, man! Since when were you a goody-two shoes? Nobody's going to know. You're just getting something for me. In-an'-out."// "You and I know if it was a simple in-and-out you would've got someone else to do it. Someone less skilled." //"I swear to you, man. It's very low risk. I'll be in your ear all the way, it'll be just like old times. You-" // "I'm sorry." You hang up and toss the phone aside. [[freetime]] (click:?page)[(goto:"freetime")]

The Sparrow Corp Office in the city is an eight-storey building in the center of a cluster of other skyscrapers, but there's a considerable space around the tower, as if the others don't want to get too close. At night, the green sparrow symbol on the face of the building lights up like a beacon, along with all the other lights staring out of its hundreds of windows. The building is not gated, and there seems to be no security, though you're sure no ordinary citizen can just stroll in through the revolving doors. A quick survey of the perimeter in your car shows you the police cars parked around the building. Another few minutes of watching the entrance shows you that policemen and women are walking in and out of the building leisurely. [[corp2]] (click:?page)[(goto:"corp2")]

//"$name!"// the Voice says through the tiny earpiece. //"You hear me?" // "Yeah." //"Where are you now?"// "In my car. Why are the police around? Are they always protecting the building?" "No. I think the woman who has my drive knows I might be coming for it. But they're expecting a violent, forceful approach. I want you to walk into the lobby." [[corp3]] (click:?page)[(goto:"corp3")]

"I don't think I will," you say. //"What?" // "Where's the folder?" //"With the woman." // "And the hard drive?" //"Also with her."// "Who is she? One of us?" //"No, but her ex-boyfriend is connected enough to know about us. She...has something on me, and she wants a stupid amount of money that I can't pay. Unfortunately, it's the same amount she's going to be paid when she sells it to the Authority." // "And then they're going to kill her and take the money back." //"She doesn't know that. I wouldn't care, except I'd be dead too if they recieve the contents on that hard drive." // [[corp4]] (click:?page)[(goto:"corp4")]

You think quickly, connecting the dots that the Voice seems to be with-holding from you. How does this woman have critical information about the Voice just because her ex-boyfriend is in the Authority? Why is she attacking the Voice? "You're the ex-boyfriend," you say. There's a silence, then, //"Yes. I know, I //know//. I've violated a vital rule in the Covenant, but...relationships, you know? I thought I'd marry her. I didn't want secrets so I told her everything, but she freaked out and now she wants money or she's going to contact the Authority."// There's a derisive laugh. //"She thinks she's going to meet the Authority, get money from them and spend the rest of her days in luxury."// "What does she have in that hard drive?" //"I...I prefer not to say, $name. Please don't make me say it." // [[corp5]] (click:?page)[(goto:"corp5")]

//"But,"// the Voice continues. //"I know she's at her workplace putting an encryption on it, to assure herself that the Authority pays her before she shows them how to unlock it." // Sparrow Corp, you think, suddenly remembering what they do here. They're not as popular as the others, but they're a competitive technological organization in the country, specializing especially in cloud services and data encryption. "I'm going to wait for her here," you say. "What does she look like?" //"Blonde, thin. Bony, really. She's been anorexic for a while."// "You know where she lives?" //"She's moved."// "I'm going to wait for her here, then I'll follow her home." //"She's going to be escorted by the police. She's told them her someone is threatening her life." // "I'll figure something out." [[corp6]] (click:?page)[(goto:"corp6")]

"Why does she have the Folder on the Demeter Club members?" //"She took what she could grab when we broke up. She stole it from my vault, which I showed her because I'm stupid."// You imagine a mirror vault just like the one in your apartment. You wonder if the Voice is a man. At first you're inclined to think so, since they have a girlfriend, but you realize you can't rule out the possibility that the voice belongs to a woman and she's gay. //"I'm glad it was the Demeter file she took,"// it says, interrupting your thoughts. "And why's that?" //"Because I don't know anybody else who would've helped me like this. You're a real one."// "Hm." [[corp7]] (click:?page)[(goto:"corp7")]

You sit there for a long time, so long that it becomes uncomfortable. Your butt starts to hurt, then your spine. It's a bit painful, but it's not unbearable. You've been in much more uncomfortable situations where you've had no choice than to be still and wait. You've lain for hours in the dry, scorching Egyptian desert, waiting for your target to appear. You remember the feeling of utter dread you'd felt when you heard a rattlesnake shaking it's tail and you couldn't even know where it was coming from to avoid it. You'd turned slowly, your eyes searching the golden sand, wondering where it was hidden. And then out of nowhere a lithe object came hurtling out of the sand, embedding its fangs into your neck. You'd grabbed the snake and flung it. It hit the ground and slunk away. [[corp8]] (click:?page)[(goto:"corp8")]

And yet you'd waited, even though you could feel your body shutting down. You were sweating, and your heart was racing, and your vision was fading. You vomitted a little into the sand, and you could no longer feel your own body. But when the target appeared out of the secret facility you took him out with a sniper-rifle, hopped on your motorcyle and sped off to the nearest hospital. So you know how to wait. [[corp9]] (click:?page)[(goto:"corp9")]

Few people enter or leave the Sparrow Corp Tower. Through its windows you can see them hard at work behind their computers. You'd wanted to become a programmer once, when life still seemed normal. At 10:33pm, a young lady walks out of the building with a bag held tightly to her bossom. She's flanked by two police officers. She gets into her car, and when she finally moves, the policecars around the building move too. You follow them. //"$name?"// the Voice says in your ear. [[corp11]] (click:?page)[(goto:"corp11")]

//"I don't want her...dead." // "I'm sorry," you say. "She's going to probably end up dead. I'm not your own personal private detective. I'll get the folder and the drive no matter what, and the police following her only makes it difficult to do it cleanly." //"I...understand. What are you going to do?"// [[corp12]] (click:?page)[(goto:"corp12")]

You ignore the Voice. You're making sure to stay far off from the woman's police convoy so that they don't make you. Despite what you said to the Voice, you want to find a clean way to do this, or maybe it's just that you want to avoid any attention to yourself, because you're not even supposed to be working. Better to get this out of the way quickly. As the convoy heads for the North side of the city, you take a familiar shortcut around and drive up to a street over the largest river in the city, Pogola. You wait in the traffic. The convoy is in a straight line, with the woman's Toyota Corolla in the middle. When they make the bend you fix your seatbelt and step hard on the accelerator. Your car zooms forward and slams into the Corrolla's side. The woman panics, and the look on her face as the windows break makes you excited. [[corp13]] (click:?page)[(goto:"corp13")]

Your foot doesn't leave the accelerator until both yours and the woman's cars topple over the edge of the bridge and into the River Pogola below. As soon as the car hits the water, you undo your seatbelt. The cars quickly submerge. You take a deep breath and plunge yourself into the water, then you swim to the woman's side and open the door. Still in her seatbelt, her blonde hair floating above her head like a mermaid's, she looks at you in alarm. You grab the bag that's floating in front of her. Behind you, you hear something hit the water; a brave policeman who's come to the rescue. He grabs you, and you turn around, slide a dagger out of your pocket and slit his throat with it. His blood dissipates quickly like mist in the water. [[corp14]] (click:?page)[(goto:"corp14")]

The woman has seen too much too. You can't count on her drowning before another policeman saves her or they resuscitate her. [[Leave her]] [[Strangle her]] [[Slit her throat]]

She's still struggling with her seatbelt, which won't budge, as if you've enchanted it to bind her. You turn from her pleading eyes and swim lower into the water before orienting yourself properly and letting the current take you to your beach. [[corp15]] (click:?page)[(goto:"corp15")]

(set: $blondeDead to true) (set: $strangled to true) You slip the knife into its holster on your belt and swim closer to her. She's shaking her head, struggling against the seatbelt, but it won't budge. It's as if you've enchanted it to bind her. You wrap your hands around her neck, but you don't have enough time to choke her to death. You place both thumbs on her throat and press hard, snapping her trachea. There's a final expression of hot pain in her wide eyes, then air escapes from her mouth in bubbles, her soul fleeing its container. You immerse yourself deeper into the river and then re-orient yourself and let the current take you to your beach. [[corp15]] (click:?page)[(goto:"corp15")]

(set: $blondeDead to true) (set: $cutthroat to true) You swim closer to her. She's shaking her head, struggling against the seatbelt, but it won't budge, as if you've enchanted it to bind her. When you reach in, she tries to fight, slapping your hands away, but you overpower her, place the blade under her neck and slice. The blood flows quickly upwards, discolouring her blonde hair. [[more]] (click:?page)[(goto:"more")]

You're in your boxers again, sitting on the kitchen counter. Your wet clothes are on the floor beneath you, along with the woman's bag. The folder of the Demeter Club members is in your lap. you're soaking wet onto the counter and you're shivering cold, but you ignore it all. You're staring at the yellow folder when the Voice crackles quietly in your ear. You've been wondering when it would speak again. //"Have you got it?"// it says. "Yeah." [[corp16]] (click:?page)[(goto:"corp16")]

Strapping the bag behind you, you immerse yourself deeper into the river and then re-orient yourself and let the current take you to your beach. [[corp15]] (click:?page)[(goto:"corp15")]

//"Is the hard drive with you?" // "It's in the bag, but it's fucked probably. I did a bit of swimming." //"Of course. But the Authority folders are waterproof." // "And fireproof, I think." There's a silence, and you wait for him to ask the question. He takes his precious time, and it almost drives you up the wall. Finally, it says, //"Did you kill her?" // (if:$blondeDead is true)[ [["Yes."]] ] (else:)[ [["She's probably alright. They'll save her before she drowns, or right after she drowns."]] ]

(if:$cutthroat is true)[ //"How did you do it?" // "Does it matter?" //"I want to know." // "I slit her throat underwater." [[moree]] (click:?page)[(goto:"moree")] ] (else:)[ //"How did you do it?"// "Does it matter?" //"I want to know." // "I broke her windpipe so she'd drown faster." [[moree]] (click:?page)[(goto:"moree")] ]

The Voice falls quiet. "C'mon," you say. "You knew what you were asking for when you asked a Freelancer to help you. Don't pretend you didn't foresee or expect this." More silence then, //"Thank you for helping me." // The earpiece goes dead. You take it out and toss it into the pile of wet clothes. You open the yellow folder. You can barely contain your excitement. [[moree2]] (click:?page)[(goto:"moree2")]

It's a list of the current 'patients' of the Demeter Club, each person occupying their own page. The juicy details are all blacked-out, including the names, leaving boring details like sex and weight. There are seven pages, one for each member of the Club. You feel disappointment settling in, and you almost close the folder when something attracts your attention. You look away from the folder and try to remember the names of the people in the Club. James Bertha Celeste Adam Tsu Sonya. You look back at the folder, flipping through quickly. [[folder2]] (click:?page)[(goto:"folder2")]

//"Okay. Thank you...my friend." // Something stirs in your chest. The Voice has broken another rule again, a rule not explicitly stated but universally agreed on. You're not friends, and it should certainly not let feelings run amok. You take the earpiece off and toss it with disgust into the pile of wet clothes. You open the folder, barely able to contain your excitement. [[moree2]] (click:?page)[(goto:"moree2")]

(set: $jamesQuest to true) "Is your address linked with your car?" James asks. "It is." He lets out a frustrated whistle, and you both fall silent. You're both deep in thought, trying to find a pinprick of light in this cave you've built yourselves. "I know what you're thinking," James says. "But you can't kill the police who come looking for you." "I can't kill him //here//, because then they'll send more to see what's going on." "But you can lure him somewhere, make it seem like something else caused his death very far away from you." "Still, they'll probably report that his last job had been to look for the owner of my car. Authority might see that." "Then we need to make sure your name isn't brought up in any reports." "How can't it? If the police are already on their way, my name will come up if anything happens to them." "That's true." [[trouble3]] (click:?page)[(goto:"trouble3")]

It occurs to you that James doesn't need to worry as much as he seems to be, since it's //your// car and they don't have proof that he was involved. But maybe he's just being an honourable guy in helping you out. Or maybe he thinks you'll snitch to Authority if you're caught. (if:$foughtByJames is false)[Either way, it makes you feel slightly guilty about not having his back last night. "The record is the problem," you say. "Hacking the station might-" "Oh!" James suddenly blurts. "Oh, give me one second!" [[trouble4]] (click:?page)[(goto:"trouble4")] ] (else:)[ "The record is the problem," you say. "Hacking the station might-" "Oh!" James suddenly blurts. "Oh, give me one second!" [[trouble4]] (click:?page)[(goto:"trouble4")] ]

He hangs up. You pick up your driver's license and toss it as far across the room as you can. You never should've bought that car. //Stacy// had insisted, and now look where it's gotten you? Every Freelancer just uses company cars. You've done this to yourself. James doesn't call for a while, so you pace around the house, trying to think of the best way to handle this situation. What would the Authority actually //do// if they found out? You could be excommunicated, but more importantly, you could be jailed. You've heard of the Authority's maximum security prison somewhere in the caves of Africa, where they put deviant Freelancers, Freelancers who are a threat to humanity because they went rogue or disobeyed the Authority. You don't know if the stories are true, but your heart is pounding fast. [[trouble5]] (click:?page)[(goto:"trouble5")]

(if:$readBook is false)[Your pacing takes you into the guest room next to yours. It looks even more untouched than the rest of the house. The bed is smaller than yours but still immaculately laid. The curtains have been drawn open, and sunlight filters onto the polished tiled floor, making it twinkle. There's a desk and a chair to the side, and there's a backpack on top of the desk. It's open, and several textbooks are spilling out of its mouth onto the desk. You examine the books and realize they're Stacy's psychology textbooks. She's in college, and she must've come in here to study long ago. Maybe she'll come for it later. [[bookss]] (click:?page)[(goto:"bookss")]] (else:)[Your pacing takes you into the bedroom, then the guestroom, then back to the bedroom as you fume silently, waiting for James to call back. In the bedroom, you walk up to the wardrobe mirror and, as if compelled by some spirit, place your left palm on the surface. There's a faint shimmer, then the mirror slides aside slowly, and a familiar thrill fills your chest with warmth you as you wait. You're staring into a small, dark alcove. There's an arrangement of weapons inside: two pistols, a submachine gun, a lineup of daggers in fancy, gold-embossed sheaths, and a flat notebook next to a cluster of gas grenades. [[eval]] (click:?page)[(goto:"eval")]]

You slam the book shut and throw it on the bed, then you walk out of there. What's taking James so long? The police could be here any minute, and you'd hate to kill them here, because that would start an entire cycle of murder and stress that you don't care for. When you reach the phone in the living room, it starts to ring. You pick it up quickly, like your life depends on it. It probably does. [[trouble6]] (click:?page)[(goto:"trouble6")]

"What are you up to?" You ask James. "Give me your address," he says. "Why?" "Just do it, man. We don't have time for questions. You'll understand when we get there." "You're beginning to see a pattern in James' personality. //Stop the car//, //give me your address//. He demands things as if he's entitled to them and doesn't want to be questioned further. It irks you a little bit. If it's not the Authority, you don't want people ordering you around. But you need help, and James seems to have got it. You give him your address. He hangs up. You sit down, bouncing your leg, thinking quickly, waiting to hear the policecar pull up outside any minute from now. [[trouble7]] (click:?page)[(goto:"trouble7")]

(set: $readBook to true) You flip the English textbook backwards and pause at one of the Covenant passages. //Killing or causing injury to a fellow Freelancer is a punishable offence, and no Freelancer should interrupt or distract another Freelancer on the job. However, if a Freelancer stands in the way of you and your target, you should use any means necessary to clear the path to your goal, including murder. This is acceptable, and if brought under investigation, the Authority will not find you guilty. // You remember this one very vividly, and you're sure many Freelancers do too. It's one of the rules that keep you people focusing your skills on the deserving, and not on each other. It's the rule that makes a thing like the Demeter Club possible. It's the same- The phone rings again. You drop the Covenant/English book and race to the living room. [[trouble6]] (click:?page)[(goto:"trouble6")]

A few minutes later, there's a knock on the door, and you hear James's voice. You find him with another woman: she's dressed in a long black overcoat, buttoned up to her neck. She has a mane of long black hair falling past her chest. Her face is gaunt but not unattractive, with her high cheekbones and pale, thin lips. It's Bertha, from the Demeter Club. She glances down at your boxers. "Charming. You really know how to meet guests." James pushes inside and she follows. [[trouble8]] (click:?page)[(goto:"trouble8")]

You close the door and turn to them. James looks even more tussled than last night, with his hair pointing everywhere and his van dyke beard slightly askew, like he's going deranged. "She's going to hack the station," he says, pointing at Bertha, who's watching you with great boredom. She bows slightly. Her eyelids are naturally heavy, like she hasn't slept in weeks, but it adds to her strange charm. "But-" she says. "You need to get arrested first." [[trouble9]] (click:?page)[(goto:"trouble9")]

"Why?" you ask. "I can't really get inside their system from the outside. It's complicated. But I need you to get this-" she pulls out a pendrive from one of her deep pockets. "into one of their computers and I'll be there with you, electronically speaking." You don't ask how you're going to do it. You're just going to do it. Maybe it's just years of learning not to ask too many questions. If the Authority says climb a ten-feet wall, you don't say how. You start thinking of ways to climb the wall. [[trouble10]] (click:?page)[(goto:"trouble10")]

"When I'm in," Bertha continues. "I'll delete all mention of you. Then you can bust yourself out of there. Hopefully I can do it without the Authority seeing it first." You don't ask how you're going to break out of there. She's not expecting you to ask. [[trouble11]] (click:?page)[(goto:"trouble11")]

You dress up in a summer shorts, old t-shirt and sandals. All three of you wait in the living room for the policecar to arrive. James is just scrolling through his phone. Bertha sits across from you, legs crossed. She's wearing black leggings underneath her overcoat. Every inch of her has been covered, just like last night at the meeting, and you wonder if it's a fashion choice or there's a deeper reason. She runs a hand through her hair. "I need a drink. Do you have any alcohol?" "No," you say. She sighs. "Good for you, then. You're not an alcoholic." [[trouble12]] (click:?page)[(goto:"trouble12")]

She gets up and draws the curtains. You and James squint at the sudden influx of sunlight. She notices and shakes her head. "We've got vampires in the house." She looks out the top-to-floor window, giving her a view of the street with several cars parked on the sides, and the sea beyond. "You've got a nice place here, $name." "Yeah." "Shame you don't even seem to live in it. Oh, look alive, vampires. A policecar coming in hot." [[trouble13]] (click:?page)[(goto:"trouble13")]

You're all on your feet. She hands you the pendrive. "Just get this into their computer. We'll be following you closely in another car, and when we're done," she takes a tiny earpiece from her pocket and plugs it in your ear quickly, "we'll tell you." "Alright." Heavy knocks assault the door, and James winks at you, massaging his wild beard down. "It's showtime." [[trouble14]] (click:?page)[(goto:"trouble14")]

The policeman at the door has a large forehead under the cap, and when he speaks, it's with an air on no-bullshit. He mentions your name, and you nod. He mentions your car plate number and asks if it belongs to you. You confirm it does. "Where was your car last night, sir?" You frown and pretend to think. "Well it was right where it is outside." He squints at you. He's not enjoying this game. "You didn't move it at all last night?" "Why, I don't believe I did, officer, or I would've remembered." [[trouble15]] (click:?page)[(goto:"trouble15")]

"Did someone borrow your car?" "No, it was here." "That's pretty interesting." "It is?" "Yes, because we have you on a few traffic cams with your car coming from Olive Street, where you've been reported to have beaten up a group of young men, some of whom are still in the hospital." "I would never! Why, Officer, I wouldn't hurt even a little fly!" "Okay, come down to the station with me, sir." "Is that really neccesary?" He looks fed up of your bullshit. Fed up of the world and fed up of the policeforce. "Are you going to resist arrest?" You pretend to consider the question, and you see the officer's hand jerk very briefly towards the gun in his holster. If you wanted, he'd be dead by now. [[trouble16]] (click:?page)[(goto:"trouble16")]

Finally, you say, "Alright, I'll come down with you." He asks you to step outside. You close the door, then, following his instructions, you turn around and let him cuff you behind your back. You know a Freelancer long ago who could break out of cuffs, but you'd never learned how he did it. Freelancers are protective over their abiltiies like that. The Officer shoves you into the elevator and then out into the brightly lit sun. Some of your neighbours and the kids on the beach stare at you with curiousity. You're going to be the talk of the block for a while, probably. The officer throws you in the backseat, mumbles into his radio in the front and drives on. Behind you, a white jeep follows. [[trouble17]] (click:?page)[(goto:"trouble17")]

It's a short ride to the squat police station. Inside, it smells strongly of disinfectant. The lobby is extremely spacious. On one side there are several rows of blue metal benches, and they're sparsely occupied by a few hollow-looking people, most of whom are staring up at the television on the wall. On the other side there are cubicles where police workers sit behind computers, but most of them are just chatting with each other. "I'm going to search you," your police-officer says, coming round to stand in front of you. "Do you have anything I should know about?" "No," you say. [[trouble18]] (click:?page)[(goto:"trouble18")]

He pats you down, and, just as you wanted, finds the pendrive Bertha gave you in your pocket. You widen your eyes. "You have //no// right to look at what's on there. It's personal property!" You raise your voice, and a couple of people on the benches glance at you. The policeman twirls the pendrive around in the air, eyebrows tangled. "What's on it?" "It's...it's nothing! It's not mine." "I thought you just said it was personal property?" "I...I-" The stammering works. He pockets the pendrive, then takes your arm and leads you into another corridor, then down a set of stairs and into a dim cell-basement. [[trouble19]] (click:?page)[(goto:"trouble19")]

There are rows of temporary prison cells to the left and right. The floor is made of bare cement, and the lights that line the aisle ceiling are flickering constantly. None of the cells seem occupied. The policeman unlocks your cuffs and pushes you into one of them, then quickly slides the gate shut. When he turns to leave, you grab the bars and scream: "Don't look at that pendrive. Whatever you see, it's not mine!" When he disappears up the stairs, you relax and sit on the stone benches at the back of the cell. //"$name?"// It's Bertha in your ear. [[trouble20]] (click:?page)[(goto:"trouble20")]

"Yeah. He should be plugging the drive inside any moment from now." //"You better pray he does." // "He will. He probably thinks I have child stuff on there or something." "How did you know there was child porn on the drive?" "What?" You can hear James and Bertha laughing. "A bunch of fucking comedians," you say. "Oh!" Bertha says suddenly. "He's connected the drive. Hold tight, $name, I'll be in their network in no time." [[trouble21]] (click:?page)[(goto:"trouble21")]

You wait for a while, staring up at the flickering ceiling. You've been in actual prisons before, much worse than this place. You once watched a big guy in one prison rape a new inmate. And you stood by and did nothing, just so you could earn their trust enough to get to a bigger guy. Usually, you have no regret about your jobs, but that particular incident floats up into your consciousness every once in a while. You should've stopped them. You shouldn't have watched. But you had a job and the Authority had instructed you not to interrupt. It's not like you feel guilt or any particular compassion for the victim. You just feel an anger at the rapist, at people who use their power to fuck(literally or metaphorically) other people. It disgusts you. But at least at the end of the job you tossed the rapist into a manhole, sealed it and listened to him drown in fresh, hot shit, gargling as fecal matter made its way to his lungs. That had been justice enough. [[trouble22]] (click:?page)[(goto:"trouble22")]

<div id=credits> written by_ (text-style:"expand")[//james arnolds//] Proofreader/editor_ (text-style:"expand")[//Bloomsan//] Proofreader/Editors/Betatesters (text-style:"expand")[//muggleweasely//] made with_ (text-style:"expand")[//Twine (&love)//] (text-style:"bold", "double-underline")[Howdark Games] </div>

You hear footsteps, and you wake from your reverie, expecting your police-officer, but it's another policewoman with a handcuffed man. He's big and has tattoos from the side of his neck, disappearing into his chest and re-appearing around his hardened biceps. The woman uncuffs him in front of your cell. He walks in and she slides the gate shut but does not lock it. The man sits down beside you. "Hey," he says. His voice is gruff, perfectly suited for his body. "Hi," you say uncertainly. "Did she just forget to close the gate?" The man reaches behind him and pulls out a thick yellow folder from underneath his shirt. They police should've definitely seen it if they'd checked him like they did you. [[trouble23]] (click:?page)[(goto:"trouble23")]

On the folder are the words, scribbled hastily: //"The Demeter Club."// You look at him. He smiles. His teeth are unsusually big. "Then it's you?" he says. "You recognize the file. I thought maybe I had the wrong cell." Calmly, you say, "Am I the job?" "Yes," he says. "It's a personal one." "From whom?" "I can't tell you that." "Then you're not sure you can kill me. If you were you'd tell me because I'd be dead anyway." [[trouble24]] (click:?page)[(goto:"trouble24")]

"You're full of yourself, aren't you?" he says. Every muscle in your body is tensed, waiting for the moment where he strikes. He pats the folder. "Someone from Authority wanted you to have this folder. The problem is, these are confidential documents. You aren't supposed to //have// them. You're only a Freelancer like me." "So me and whoever gave you the job must die," you conclude. Because it means there's a leakage in the company, and this motherfucker is the self-appointed hero to plug it. "Who gave you the job?" you ask. "I'm finding that out next." "Not if you're dead." [[trouble25]] (click:?page)[(goto:"trouble25")]

The Freelancer sticks a long needle out of his palm. You've seen the technique before, but you've never used it yourself. Some Freelancers can bury thin needles known as //pencils// deep within their palms, as far as into their wrists, to evade detection. Then they flex a muscle to push the needles out when the need arises. You see the needle coming for your eye. You lift your hands and take the blow to the back of your arm instead. The pencil pushes through your forearm, the tip glinting at you. You push the Freelancer, and he falls backward. You shoot to your feet and he's up before you can rush him. He takes out another pencil from his other palm. You take out the one in your forearm. You size each other up. [[trouble26]] (click:?page)[(goto:"trouble26")]

He swipes left. You duck and quickly punch holes in his thighs with your needle. Little spots of blood appear in his jeans. He twists around to make another attack. [[Block the attack]] [[Duck out of the way]]

He brings a heavy arm down on you, meaning to embed the needle right into your scalp. You grab his arm and struggle against him, trying to force him backward. [[Keep pushing]] [[Abandon pushing]]

(set: $hit to true) You try to shift away, but he catches you in the shoulder with the needle several times. You feel your arm go limp. He steps in and slams a large fist into your temple, and the impact forces your back into a wall. He charges in with no restraint. That's his problem. He thinks his strength does everything for him. He's probably never fought another Freelancer before. He would've learned calm. [[Abandon pushing]] (click:?page)[(goto:"Abandon pushing")]

He's extremely strong, but he seems to think strength alone will win him this fight. You kick him in the knees, and he cries and bends over. In a swift, almost automatic motion, you stick the needle several times in his forearm. His grip on his needle loosens. He tries to attack you with his other arm, you slide out of the way and make a few more holes across his chest. He swings again, now on one knee. You step out of his reach, then step in and deliver the final stab to his throat. Blood spurts out like a fountain. He lifts his hands to staunch the flow, but it's too late. He falls heavily to the floor, eyes still open, body frozen. [[death]] (click:?page)[(goto:"death")]

You slip under his attacking hand and split his thigh open with the needle. A satisfying amount of blood starts pouring over his jeans now, bringing him completely to his knees. Before he can make another move, you insert the needle in between his eyes and watch his face go blank. He falls down with a heavy slap and becomes still. Blood pools quickly around his leg. [[death]] (click:?page)[(goto:"death")]

"Are you done?" Bertha asks in your ears, as if she knew for a fact you'd win. "Yes," you say, breathless. "Are //you// done?" "Long ago. We were just waiting for you to finish up. You'll need to get out now. We'll be waiting for you." [[death2]] (click:?page)[(goto:"death2")]

Like you expected, you hear footsteps coming down the stairs, and the policewoman who brought your killer appears in front of your cell. "Oh dear," she says, her hand flying to her chest. "This was free kill," you say angrily, evoking a passage in the Red Covenant. "The Authority didn't send him," you continue, "so you don't need to report this." "But how am I going to explain it to everyone?" "I don't give a //fuck//. You helped him in here to kill me, knowing very well he wasn't on a job. Now you have to help me out, or the Authority is going to know you broke a rule." Her eyes still on the body behind you, she says, "There's a back exit." [[exit]] (click:?page)[(goto:"exit")]

Bertha's car comes for you at the exit. You climb into the back, panting slightly. James is driving, and as he moves along, Bertha turns to you, eyeing the yellow folder in your laps. "What's that?" "It's what the Freelancer wanted to kill me for. Apparently someone from Authority wanted me to have it. But I'm not supposed to have it. The Freelancer was going to kill me and then kill the insider." "What's in it?" "Haven't read it yet." She takes the hint and turns away. [[exit2]] (click:?page)[(goto:"exit2")]

You think of the policewoman, wondering how she would explain the dead man in the cell and the missing one. But you don't care. She's an agent; a pawn planted in certain industries to assist the Authority once in a while. Agents do not have the same training as Freelancers, but they know the Covenant too: The Freelancer didn't have proof of a contract and she still allowed him to come in and try and kill you. Maybe she was a lover or sibling to the Freelancer, but she broke a rule and she could be killed for that. You don't care what lie she concocts to her fellow policefolk or the Authority when they ask why one of theirs is dead in her station. Eventually, they'll kill her anyway. They always kill the Agents after a short while. Agents are dangerous because they're allowed to have normal lives. After some time they start developing the urge to tell their family or loved ones things they know. [[exit3]] (click:?page)[(goto:"exit3")]

It's evening by the time the car stops in front of your apartment building. (if:$hit is true)[Bertha and James turn to you, and to your surprise, Bertha says, "Are you alright?" She's eyeing the wounds on your arm, staining your shirt with streaks of blood. "Any organs punctured?" "No. Superficial wounds." You get out of the car. [[exitlast]] (click:?page)[(goto:"exitlast")] ] (else:)[ Bertha and James turn to you. "Well," James says. "Crisis averted, then? Are we sure we haven't left any loose ends?" "The Agent will take care of it," you say. "It's her fault it all happened at the station anyway." You get out of the car. [[exitlast]] (click:?page)[(goto:"exitlast")] ]

You start walking to the apartment building, then you turn back and walk to the car just as James starts driving off. "Left something?" Bertha says. "Listen. Thank you. You especially, Bertha." "Oh God," James says. "I'm going to throw up." But Bertha seems pleased. "You know what, I enjoyed myself today, so maybe I should thank //you//." "No more thanking please," James says. "Next we'll be having a family and going to Church." Bertha turns to James. "Could you shut up? Is that something you can do for us?" He rolls his eyes. [[exitlast1]] (click:?page)[(goto:"exitlast1")]

Bertha turns back to you. "Hey, if there's anything we need to know in that folder, you'll tell us, right?" "I will." She nods. "Also, get some alcohol in your fucking apartment, man. I almost died from a lack of it today." James drives off before anyone can say anything more. [[backhome]] (click:?page)[(goto:"backhome")]

You strip down to your boxers again and lower yourself on the sofa. (if:$hit is true)[ There's no life in your injured arm now, but you'll tend to it later. With your good left hand, you place the folder on your laps, barely able to contain your curiosity. Someone went to great lengths to get you this folder and you want to know what's in it. [[folder]] (click:?page)[(goto:"folder")]] (else:)[You feel dirty just from being in the cell, and probably from killing. You always feel dirty after a kill. You should shower, but you can barely contain your curiosity. Someone went to great lengths to get you this folder and you want to know what's in it. [[folder]] (click:?page)[(goto:"folder")] ]

There's one person whose name isn't redacted. ''Sam C.'' Who's Sam C? //Who's Sam C? // There are no pictures, and the sex is redacted also. You frown at the television screen you've never used, as if you're playing your thoughts on it. One of the 'patients' have changed their names, and someone at Authority wants you to know. For what reason would they change their name? Why would they want to infiltrate the Demeter Club, and what's it got to do with you? [[folderend]] (click:?page)[(goto:"folderend")]

Part 3 (text-style:"expand")[//"Shadows in the fire, have you seen them?"//] ''-Into the Night, Mattis.'' ~~<h1> The Demeter Club </h1> ~~ (link:"Play Part 3, 2nd Therapy Session")[(goto:"Part 3.")] (link:"Replay Part 2")[(goto:"2transition")] (link:"Replay Part 1")[(goto:"Begin")] (link:"Credits")[(goto:"Credits")]

''Part 3 will be released soon! Leave a comment, follow us, send an email or anything if you're enjoying the game. It motivates us to keep writing. Thanks for playing!'' (link:"Replay Part 2")[(goto:"2transition")] (link:"Replay Part 1")[(goto:"Begin")] (link:"Credits")[(goto:"Credits")] //the new choices you make if you restart will affect Part 3//

There's a small part of you that feels a little guilty, and you aren't quite sure if you've made the right decision, but you're going to stick by it. You don't want to fuck with the Authority. All you have to do is finish your therapy time and get back to work. The Voice can handle its problems. You don't really owe it anything. [[freetime2]] (click:?page)[(goto:"freetime2")]

(set: $stacyQuest to true) You take a long, hot shower, and a series of images flash through your head again and again. It's always like this when you take showers, ever since the very first time you killed someone. You drove a fork into his eye so hard you could //feel// the fork puncture the mushy brain-matter inside, like piercing a soft fruit. After that you'd gone home to take a shower, and all you could see when you closed your eyes was the fork in the man's left eye and the look of pure horror in the other as the light left it. The way his mouth hang open, choking on his last words and the blood that was running down the injured eyesocket. [[freetime3]] (click:?page)[(goto:"freetime3")]

Now everytime you take a shower you don't only remember him, but a plethora of other people you've killed. None of the images lasts too long, and you don't even recall doing some of them. You don't even feel anything for them. No guilt. No remorse. You just //remember// them, as if it's some ritual your mind must perform to honour them. You open your eyes and get out of the shower, dry off and get into your boxers. Your phone rings again in the living room. Goddamit. Suddenly you're so popular. You pick the phone up. Stacy. You answer. [[freetime4]] (click:?page)[(goto:"freetime4")]

(if:$readBook is false)[The line rings for a long while, and you just know she's staring at her phone, making it seem as if she's not eager to pick up. True to your suspicions, she picks at the last minute. "Stacy," you say. Her little squeaky voice is abrupt. "I need to come get my things from your place. Tell me when you're ready. Goodbye." She hangs up. You call back. [[stacy]] (click:?page)[(goto:"stacy")] ] (else:)[ "I'm at the door," her squeaky voice says, then she hangs up. Goddamit, she can be so dramatic. There's a doorbell she could've rung. [[freetime5]] (click:?page)[(goto:"freetime5")] ]

//''Witnesses: '' A Freelancer is free to judge whether a witness to his or her act will prove to be troublesome later. However, it is often unpredictable who a witness will tell later, so it is advised to kill all witnesses. If a witness is left alive and starts to cause trouble for the Authority, the same Freelancer will have to go back and silence them. To be safe, do your job properly. Do not rush things. Find the perfect place and time. // //If a Freelancer tends to leave too many witnesses, causes too much fuss for the Authority, ''measures'' will be taken against that Freelancer. // (link:"Read More")[(goto:"evenmore")] [[Drop the book]]

You exit the living room, suddenly hungry. If Stacy were here she'd have prepared something for you to eat, but you don't or can't cook, and all you can do now is order something online. It's in these ways you miss Stacy. She made life a lot more easier when she was around, like a mother. Maybe that was the problem. Stacy was too motherly. You don't like that. You don't like permanence in your life, at least not in this aspect of your life. You want to be able to fuck her to release stress and not feel dirty about it afterwards, because you know she's always expecting more. After you order your food, you call the Unknown Number. [[Go and call the unknown number]] (click:?page)[(goto:"Go and call the unknown number")]]

Stacy's standing there in a blue dress that hugs her body, and even though she's not extremely curvy, it gives her some shape. She's much shorter than you and has a pointed chin and button nose. She doesn't look pretty. She looks adorable, like you want to cup her face in your hands and caress it. But when she's angry and unsmiling, like now, or pretending to be, she looks like a skinny witch. "Come in," you say, and she walks past you. You close the door. [[freetime6]] (click:?page)[(goto:"freetime6")]

(set: $partyinvite to true) She brings a nice scent into the room. She has a shopping bag around her arm, which she places on the sofa. "What did you go and buy?" "Just some shoes," she says. "I have a party this weekend. //Ugh//, why is this place so musty?" She throws back the curtains in the living room, and you squint at the sudden influx of light. "I didn't ask you to do that," you say. She ignores you and storms into your bedroom. [[freetime7]] (click:?page)[(goto:"freetime7")]

"Oh my //God//," she exclaims dramatically. "Look at this. It's all untidy. God, I have to pick up after you all the time." You walk to the bedroom, where she's taking the old sheets off your bed. "Stacy," you say. "Stacy, I haven't asked you to do that." She ignores you. "Stacy, you don't need to this. I'll do it myself." "Oh, so I'm a nuisance, isn't it?" she says, letting the sheets drop to a heap on the floor. "That's okay, I just thought I was helping." She walks out of the room, her high heels clicking rapidly on the tiles. [[freetime8]] (click:?page)[(goto:"freetime8")]

You follow her into the guestroom, where she starts packing up her textbooks. You've left the Covenant book on the bed, but she doesn't look at it even once. "Hey, did you read that book there?" She ignores you. "Stacy?" "I'm leaving. Just let me leave." [[Pacify her]] [[Let her rage on]]

You move in behind her and wrap your arm around her tightly. She doesn't respond, just keeps shoving the books into her bag. You don't want a serious relationship with her like she does with you, but you're now aware of how thin the boxers are and how much of her ass you can feel. You start to receive flashbacks of the times you've been intimate with her, and desire rises within you. [[Touch her]] [[Redraw]]

She packs the books into the bag very slowly despite her apparent anger. Eventually, when she's done, she turns and walks past you, grabs her shopping bag and leaves. [[stacyleaves2]] (click:?page)[(goto:"stacyleaves2")]

You kiss her neck softly, then wait for her to protest, but she doesn't. You plant more gentle kisses on her warm neck, very much aware of how she much she likes being kissed on the neck. She smells extremely good too. You reach around and cup her breasts in your hands. They aren't big breasts. They're on the small side, but you like the feel of them anyway. You like how they fit snugly in your hands. You massage them softly. She's not responding. She's still packing the books. "Should I stop?" you whisper into her ear. "If you want to stop, you can stop." "C'mon, that's no answer." [[Kiss her neck]] [[Draw away]]

No, you mustn't. You don't love her. Maybe you don't even like her. You just want to fuck her. She deserves better. She deserves someone who will marry her and have kids with her and want to cuddle with her after sex. [[Let her rage on]] (click:?page)[(goto:"Let her rage on")]

You kiss her neck again. She doesn't protest, but you see her mouth part just an inch as if she's taken a sharp breath. You massage her breasts some more, then you raise her dress so that her butt is exposed. You turn her face towards you and kiss. Her lips open wider and her tongue meets yours. After a while, you slip a hand in front of her underwear, and she gasps softly as you massage her mound. Her warm breath meets your face. She closes her eyes and spreads her legs slightly more, an almost involuntary response to your touch. [[stacysex]] (click:?page)[(goto:"stacysex")]

"Fine," you say, stepping away from her. You're already semi-hard, but you won't do it if she won't admit that she also wants it. She's been like this ever since you met her, pretending that it's just //you// who wanted to fuck. That she was just //giving// you sex, not participating in it. Like the shivering orgasms she gets are only for //your// benefit. Like she doesn't rub your dick with her knee when you're cuddling and she wants sex. You've tolerated it because you kind of understand her. She comes from a strictly religious home where people aren't allowed to admit that they're sexual beings. But you're fed up now. [[Let her rage on]] (click:?page)[(goto:"Let her rage on")]

The position is becoming uncomfortable. You lead her to the unused guest bed. She lies on her back. You open her legs and go down on her. In a few minutes she's rubbing herself against your tongue, clutching her breasts. [[stacysex2]] (click:?page)[(goto:"stacysex2")]

When you finally enter her, you're surprised by just how wet and tight she is. Stacy is never active during sex. She just lies there, eyes closed, biting her lips and moaning occasionally as you thrust into her, slowly, then picking up speed. When she's much into it, she wraps her legs around your waists and starts whispering, //"Oh, God, oh God,"// like she's doing something terrible and she knows God would punish her but she can't stop. She was raised very religious, so you can kind of understand her stance towards sex. You feel her high heels on your back as her legs lock themselves tighter behind your waist. You grab her breasts as your tongue connects with hers. Your entire body is one flaming weapon of passion as she squeaks in pleasure. [[stacysex3]] (click:?page)[(goto:"stacysex3")]

You feel yourself coming, and she pulls you in deeper till you explode into her. When you're done convulsing on top of her, she covers her face with her hands and starts to sob. She's done it before, quite a few times, and everytime you ask her the same question, because it's not exactly encouraging when someone as passive as her starts to cry after sex. You always want to make sure you didn't just force yourself on her. "Are you okay?" you say, still on top of her. [[stacysex4]] (click:?page)[(goto:"stacysex4")]

(set: $sleptWithStacy to true) She nods, wiping her face. "Yes." Previously, she used to say, "It felt so good," but today she might still be angry, so she doesn't. She showers, and then you shower quickly again because you're sticky and sweaty. When you come out, she's lying on your bed, wearing her blue dress, but her heels are off. She's going to stay, but you don't really want her here. The desire gone, you just want to be left alone. "I'd like you to come to the party with me," she says, glancing quickly at your naked groin. "Oh," you say. "Well, we'll talk about it some more, but right now I have to do some work and I think I need to be alone. [[stacyleaves]] (click:?page)[(goto:"stacyleaves")]

She looks betrayed. Her mouth opens like she's going to say something, but she closes it quickly, gets up and takes her heels from the floor. Then she zips into the living room, grabs her shopping bag, and disappears into the hallway barefooted. From the living room window, you watch her get into her small Kia car and drive off. Why do you keep doing this to Stacy? Because she always makes herself so damn available. Because she intentionally leaves her textbooks in the guestroom. And soon she's going to call asking to come and take it again. [[stacyleaves2]] (click:?page)[(goto:"stacyleaves2")]

You met Stacy at a club about three years ago when you were back from a successful job. She'd attracted you because she wasn't on the dance floor raging on like everybody else. She just sat there on a stool in her pretty dress, sipping her drink. Maybe your job makes you drawn to anomalies. You sat beside her and chatted her up and asked if she'd liked to come to your apartment. You'd thought it would just be a one-night stand, but it evolved into something else when she started cooking and cleaning and referring to you as her boyfriend to her friends. You told her you worked IT and had to travel around the world frequently, and she didn't suspect a thing. She believed you wholeheartedly. It was disgusting. When you came back, you went out with her, had fun with her, fucked her, and everything seemed to be alright. [[stacyleaves3]] (click:?page)[(goto:"stacyleaves3")]

But you realized it was getting serious. You realized you didn't and couldn't love her in a way she loved you. You had to cut if off. She'd cried, called you names, packed her stuff and left. But she always comes back. You wish she wouldn't. [[knock]] (click:?page)[(goto:"knock")]

There's a knock on the door, interrupting your nap. You think it's Stacy again, but when you open it there's only a box on the ground and nobody else in the hallway. You take the box inside and open it on the kitchen counter. You instantly recognize the thick yellow folder lying within. It's something the Authority uses to keep and share their most precious hardcopy documents. Its glossy exterior is fireproof and waterproof. Freelancers aren't meant to have these things. You sit on the sofa and open it. [[folder]] (click:?page)[(goto:"folder")]

//''Marriage:'' Freelancers may get married. A married Freelancer who kills his/her Freelancer spouse will not be punished. Marriage is a bond the Authority does not intervene with. // (link:"Read More")[(goto:"evenmore2")] [[Drop the book]]

//If the Authority deems that a Freelancer has become unhinged, rogue, or needs psychological aid, it will require one for them. A Freelancer on therapy leave will not recieve jobs. They will not be in contact with the Authority till the therapist has declared them fit again for active duty. However, a Freelancer who kills or commits violent acts while on therapy leave will have ''measures'' taken against them by the Authority.// [[segue]] (click:?page)[(goto:"segue")]

The phone rings again, interrupting your reading. You drop the book and storm to the living room before it stops. It's the Unknown Number. [[Go and call the unknown number]]

Part 2 (text-style:"expand")[//"This thing of darkness I acknowledge mine."//] ''-William Shakespeare.'' ~~<h1> The Demeter Club </h1> ~~ //justice. murder. monsters.// (link:"Play Part 2")[(goto:"Part 2")] (link:"Replay Part 1")[(goto:"Begin")]

The rest of the group is introduced hastily: Sonya the thick woman and Adam the short, bald man. "Don't worry," Anthony says. "You'll get a chance to know everyone soon enough. I'm afraid we're out of time for tonight, but I think we've made some progress nonetheless. I want you to think about what I've told you Celeste, about your sexual temper and where it's rising from. I want every one of you to think about that, and we'll discuss it if you have any more questions." He looks at the group like a proud, hopeful teacher, and he's probably about to say something touchy feely when, one-by-one, you get up and leave him there. " [[end1]] (click:?page)[(goto:"end1")]

Anthony introduces the rest of the group hastily: Celeste, Tsu the biggest of all, James the elegantly-dressed man beside you, and Bertha in her brown overcoat. "Don't worry," Anthony says. "You'll get a chance to know everyone soon enough. I'm afraid we're out of time for tonight, but I think we've made some progress nonetheless. I want you to think about what I've told you Celeste, about your sexual temper and where it's rising from. I want every one of you to think about that, and we'll discuss it if you have any more questions." He looks at the group like a proud, hopeful teacher, and he's probably about to say something touchy feely when, one-by-one, you get up and leave him there. [[end1]] (click:?page)[(goto:"end1")]

Your phone rings, interrupting your thoughts. Your tea has already gone cold. You sigh inwardly and turn away from the window. [[apt2]] (click:?page)[(goto:"apt2")]

The weapons give you a chill. Each one triggers fresh memories as you lay your eyes on them; a montage of blood and guts and ripped flesh. You just need an excuse, a slight reason, and that policeman that's coming for you is going to fuel your desire for murder. The book and the grenade you haven't touched in a while. The grenades because you think they're too loud. The book because it's from a part of your past you've so far traversed that it feels like a distant dream. You take the book and open it, again like you've been instructed against your will to do so. [[eval2]] (click:?page)[(goto:"eval2")]

The neat handwriting is fading with time, but you laminated it long ago so that the letters don't disappear any more. You brush your palm over the surface, as if trying to connect with a past so out of reach, with a person long out of your life. //Please take my $name to the city. I beg you. We know your truck is full, but he's scrawny, and he will fit anyway. God, he will even hang under the car if you want him to. Everyday our children our dying, and even worse, parents are dying leaving their children to starve and die or join the forces of that devil. We have nothing. But we have food. And we have a lovely daughter, if you want her, you will get her. But take the boy to the city. He is a good boy. He will make something of himself. // (if:$parents_alive is false)[And mom died with dad right after. You don't know how, but you're certain they simply stopped trying to stay alive because their only two children were gone, one to the big city, another in service of a disgusting man, sacrificed to let her brother go on. Have you made something of yourself, then? [[eval3]] (click:?page)[(goto:"eval3")] ] (else:)[You know mom and dad are still alive. The war has long ended, but you've never written to them since you came to the city, since the Authority picked you up on the streets where the truck driver left you. Have you made something of yourself, then? [[eval3]] (click:?page)[(goto:"eval3")] ]

What is this? What are you doing living in the past, thinking about people who don't need to be thought about? This is exactly why you shouldn't have kept the stupid paper. The past distracts you. People distract you. Right now, it's the nosy police you have to worry about and the real threat that the Authority might hear of your trangression. [[Go call James!]] (click:?page)[(goto:"Go call James!")]

It's (text-style:"expand")[9:25 pm] when you get to the building where the Demeter therapy sessions are held. The streets are quiet and the wind is chilly. You park your car and head inside, noticing the other club members' car are already here. You're late again, and usually you wouldn't care, but tonight there's a feeling in your heart. Fear? trepidation? [[c1]] (click:?page)[(goto:"c1")]

Someone in the club is using a fake name. //Sam C//. Someone in there has an agenda, and your mind races, trying to put the pieces together. But there aren't that many pieces to build a strong picture. //The unknown person that followed you after your first Demeter meeting.// (if:$jamesQuest is true)[//The mercenary who tried to kill you in the cell.// //The Yellow Folder.// Why does it seem like everything involves //you? // [[c2]] (click:?page)[(goto:"c2")] ] (else:)[//The Yellow Folder. // //Sam C. // Why does Sam C want? What does Sam C want with //you? // [[c2]] (click:?page)[(goto:"c2")] ]

Drunk on your own thoughts, you do not see the figure in front of the building till you almost bump into her. "Whoa there," she says, and you look up into Bertha's face. Like last time, she has on a long overcoat, black leggings, and high black boots. Her collar has been done up to cover her neck. Almost every bit of her body is sealed, and you wonder why. Even her long black mane of hair hides part of her face. "Hi," you say. [[c3]] (click:?page)[(goto:"c3")]

(if:$jamesQuest is true) [She looks at you up and down. "You're alright, then?" "Yup." //Is she Sam C?// She nods her approval, then points at the building. "What do you think this place is for, when we're not having meetings?" You lift your eyes to the yellow walls. The entire building is painted a pleasant yellow, and there are no markings on the walls or doors or even on the sidewalk to tell you what the building is used for. [[c4]] (click:?page)[(goto:"c4")] ] (else:)[She extends her hand, one of the few parts of her body that isn't completely concealed in clothes. You shake it, noticing its softness. How does a Freelancer get such soft hands? "I'm Bertha," she says. "Yeah, I know." "I know you know. I'm just trying to break the ice here, buddy." "$name, that's my name." "Pleasure." She frowns and points at the building. "What do you think this place is for, when we're not having meetings?" You lift your eyes to the yellow walls. The entire building is painted a pleasant yellow, and there are no markings on the walls or doors or even on the sidewalk to tell you what the building is used for. [[c4]] (click:?page)[(goto:"c4")] ]

When you're on a job, you like surprises. You love it when the target senses that something is wrong and changes their routine. You like it when intel is sometimes wrong and the American senator is surrounded by armed guards in the sauna, when she was supposed to be alone. It sets your blood boiling and the cogs in your mind grinding, like a cat playing with a desperate mouse. [[interrim3]] (click:?page)[(goto:"interrim3")]

"I'm not even sure," you say. "It looks new. Maybe the Authority built it just for their operations?" "Hm," she says, sounding unconvinced. You're not too convinced yourself. The Authority doesn't just build something like this. They prefer to conduct business right under the public eye, in disguise. Easier to avoid attention that way. [[c5]] (click:?page)[(goto:"c5")]

"Maybe you could ask Anthony," you tell Bertha. "Apparently we're not suppsoed to speak to him." "Why?" "I dunno man." She takes something out of one of her deep coat pockets: a small, square bottle of whiskey. As she puts it to her pale lips, her eyes meet yours. "Did I tell you I'm an alcoholic?" (if:$jamesQuest is true)["You mentioned it." ] (else:)["No you haven't yet." "Well, I am."] She takes a big swig and offers the bottle to you. [[interrim4]] (click:?page)[(goto:"interrim4")]

You take a big gulp. She chortles."//Jesus Christ//, can I get some back?" You hand the bottle back to her, and you both enter the yellow building through the wide front door. In the long, empty hallway, Bertha takes another sip before shoving it into her pocket. She catches you looking and almost chokes on the drink. "Oh, tell me you're not judging me. I'm not going to go through this therapy bullshit sober." You smile. "I'm not judging you." [[c6]] (click:?page)[(goto:"c6")]

"I'm alright." "You don't drink?" she says. "I do." "You just won't drink from the same bottle as me? I brushed my teeth and everything." "You //really// want me to drink." "I just don't want to drink alone." [[Drink with her]] [[Still no]]

You open the bronze door of the Demeter Club, pausing to allow Bertha take another sip before she hurries inside. Then you follow her. [[c7]] (click:?page)[(goto:"c7")]

She sees your hesitation and waves you away. "Just messing with you. It's just apple juice." "I can smell it." "It's a very strong apple juice." [[c6]] (click:?page)[(goto:"c6")]

The empty room is already packed. The members are seated in the circle again, looking as bored and forlorn as they'd been last session. "There you guys are!" Anthony exclaims, opening his arms wide. Today he's wearing a colorful sweater with a white shirt underneath tucked diligently into khaki trousers. His big goofy glasses are perched on top of his long nose. He reminds you of a headmaster you had a long time ago. As you and Bertha take your seat, she says, "Hello people!" She says it a little too loudly, or maybe you just picked up on it because you know she's tipsy. There are scattered grunts acknowledging her greeting. They all just seem surprised that someone greeted, and so cheerily. [[c8]] (click:?page)[(goto:"c8")]

"Right then," Anthony says. He has papers in his laps like last session. He arranges them into a neat pile and slaps them on his thighs. "Shall we begin?" Sonya, the heavy Freelancer beside you, lifts a hand to stop him. "Yes, Sonya?" You realize she's looking at you. She has a round face and puffy cheeks, and her is shaved, leaving only a faint feminine crewcut like a soldier's. Dark mascara surrounds her eye like the mask of a comicbook superhero. "I just want to say...none of us want to be here, not even Anthony I think. It's disrespectful to have us waiting every fucking time." [[Express apology]] [[Who the fuck does she think she is?]]

"Get off my case, will you?" you say, staring into her thickly lined eyes. "Feel free to come late next time if you feel like it's a competition." The dark eyes squeeze tighter like a camera lens, like she's taken a snapshot of you in that moment. //Are you Sam C?// Sonya nods, more to herself, then she crosses her thick legs and looks away. She's wearing jeans shorts that show her sturdy, olive thighs, and simple pink t-shirt. Anthony claps once to call attention to himself. "Let's all calm down. $name, Sonya is right. Please respect everybody else's time and make it earlier next session. It's all part of your evaluation at the end of your therapy. Anyway!..." [[c9]] (set: $angeredSonya to true) (click:?page)[(goto:"c9")]

"Sorry about that," you say. Sonya looks taken aback. Her mascara lined eyes unsquint and she nods and crosses her thick legs again. She's wearing jeans shorts that leave her sturdy chocolate thighs exposed. Anthony claps once to call attention to himself. "Right then. Thank you Sonya. That was very good communication. It's not fair to make everyone wait. Right, so..." [[c9]] (set: $angeredSonya to false) (click:?page)[(goto:"c9")]

"Last session we talked about Celeste and her little sexcapade, didn't we?" "Oh god," Celeste says. "How long have you been waiting to say 'sexcapade'?" (if:$fkedCeleste is true)[For the first time since you entered the room, your eyes meet Celeste's and you have a feeling she's been looking at you for a while. There's a faint smile on her face, and you respond with an equally subtle one. Your quick frolic with her in the back of her car runs through your mind, and you're longing for her again. Tonight she's wearing a simple long-sleeve dress cut low in the front. Her hair is the same, piled in a big spiral atop her head. //Are you Sam C?// She looks away from you and glares at Anthony silently. [[c11]] (click:?page)[(goto:"c11")]] (else:)[Celeste like last time, still has her hair piled in a big spiral atop her head. Tonight she's wearing a blue long-sleeved dress cut low in the chest. She glares at Anthony quietly. [[c11]] (click:?page)[(goto:"c11")] ]

"So," Anthony says. "I hope you're exploring sexually. It is highly encouraged that you do so in a safe environment, so that you do not act out your repressed feelings in the tension of the work environment." "Right," Celeste says. "Enough of that, then. If I remember correctly, it's $name's turn." He's smiling at you. You frown. "What?" He smiles wider, not in a mocking way, more like a parent who knows what the child has done but will forgive him anyway. "I want you to say it, $name. What was the event that caused you to be here?" [[c12]] (click:?page)[(goto:"c12")]

A million protests run through your head as you search for a way to weasel out of this, but you know you can't. This is what Demeter is for, and even if you don't say it, Anthony will, like he did for Celeste last session. You don't want him to say your story for you and butcher it, or say soemthing that isn't true. [[c13]] (click:?page)[(goto:"c13")]

Bertha leans forward and rests her hand on her knees, batting her eyelashes at you. You ignore her, fold your arms and lean back as you recount the your last job. [[c14]] (click:?page)[(goto:"c14")]

"The assignment was to take out a reverend minister somewhere in Africa." You pause as the memory hits you strongly. It's the first time you've thought about it since you completed it. "He was a popular figure in the Christian community, with his big white grin and positive attitude. People seemed to think he was an extremely good person. Anyway, all Authority told me was that he was exploiting his church members, and one of them wanted to see him dead. It was enough for me. I'd done lots of church people before. I knew how most of them were: lying assholes." [[c15]] (click:?page)[(goto:"c15")]

The reverend minister's face swims up to your consciousness. The big head with hair sprinkled in grey. The double chin, the big teeth that were always grinning. A grin perfected to look genuine to the naive. "Like many other celebrity pastors, he had tight security. Tighter than most of them, and he was always surrounded by fans and church members and other pastors, so I had to take it slow. I disguised myself as a cook and lived with them for a couple of months. "He came to like me. I'd convinced him I thought he was my saviour, and that I aspired to inspire the world like him. He ate that shit up. Then soon enough I discovered how exactly he was lying to his people. [[c16]] (click:?page)[(goto:"c16")]

"I don't want to get into it, but he was screwing the people out of their money. He was stealing from international christian charity organizations that were supposed to be helping the communi-" You remember what Anthony said last session about Celeste justifying her actions by pretending she did it for the greater good. You bite your lip. "It doesn't matter," you say. "He was lying to the people under the guise of being a man of God." [[c17]] (click:?page)[(goto:"c17")]

"Well, it made me a bit pissed." "A bit?" Anthony says. "Or a lot? I want you to use specific words that best describe what you were feeling." "I just hate it when people in power abuse those without. I //loathe// it. So, on the last night I snuck into the minister's room, cut out his tongue, went into the kitchen, prepared a stew with it, told him to meet me at the dining hall and not say a word to anyone." Bertha chuckles. "Not say a word! You really told him that after you cut out his tongue?" Most of the others start to laugh, except Anthony, who looks impatient, yet allows the little joke to rise and die, then he says, "Continue." [[c18]] (click:?page)[(goto:"c18")]

"Well," you say. "I made it clear if he acted suspiciously I would kill his wife and kid. Then I sat them at the table, him and his wife and his son, and laid the table. He couldn't eat, of course, but the wife and son did. When the son put his father's tongue in his mouth to eat, I told them about who I was, and I told him what he was eating." The minister's face comes to you again. He'd opened his mouth to show his son the gaping hole where his tongue should've been. Tears were running down his big face. For once he didn't have a smile on or positive things to say. His wife screamed and jumped away from the table. You'd told her to keep calm. [[c19]] (click:?page)[(goto:"c19")]

"Then?" Anthony urges you on, and only then do you realize you'd paused, reliving he moment so vividly in your mind that you'd been temporairly wrenched from the present. "Then," you say. "The son choked on his father's tongue." "He didn't spit it out?" Bertha asks. "I poisoned the tongue and some of it seeped into his stomach. The boy was paralysed and fell, and the tongue got lodged in his throat. His mother rushed to hs side to help him. I stabbed the minister in the heart, gave the mother the antidote to the boy's poison." [[c20]] (click:?page)[(goto:"c20")]

"You saved the boy?" Anthony says. "No," Sonya answers, squinting at you again. "He's not done." It's as if she knows. Maybe in some way she does. Because you're all the same. [[interrim5]] (click:?page)[(goto:"interrim5")]

"How do you feel about that job?" "Like all the other jobs, I feel nothing. It's a job." "Aren't you aware of how unnecessary your actions were? The kid didn't need to die. The wife didn't deserve that. Authority asked you to kill the man." "They all knew what the minister was doing. They let it happen." Anthony pushes his glasses further up his nose, and Bertha says, "Uh-oh, bullshit psycho-analysis incoming." [[c22]] (click:?page)[(goto:"c22")]

Anthony ignores her. "Do you have a problem with Christianity or perhaps, //positive// people?" "I only have a problem with liars." "Because it seems, from the way you recounted your story, that you started to despise them from the get-go just because they seemed like a positive, happy family." "No one is //that// positive. Or happy." "Maybe you should be slightly more positive yourself. Yes, you're a trained murderer. Yes, you can't have normal relationships like other people. Yes, your life is filled with death and chaos, but there's no reason not to feel hopeful somehow." [[c23]] (click:?page)[(goto:"c23")]

"You need to find something in your life to latch on to, something that you feel positive about, otherwise all this darkness swallows you up, and you hate happy people." "I dunno," Tsu says. He's the big black man who is not Asian as his name suggests. "I'm with $name. I think there's a healthy balance between positivity and nihilism. Some people lean too much into positivity. It's fake." "But," Anthony says. "$name has leaned too much into nihilism, as have most of you, and it gradually shows up in your work and causes mental problems." "Like Celeste and her strap-on," James says. Celeste nods. "Go fuck yourself." [[c24]] (click:?page)[(goto:"c24")]

"Now," Anthony interrupts. "there's something else in your story, $name. The tongue, why did you cut off the minister's tongue?" You sigh. "Like I said, he was a liar. It was art." "Do you feel like //your// tongue is cut out? Do you feel you don't have a voice?" Bertha holds her head like she has a headache. "Jesus fucking Christ." "What are you even talking about?" you say to Anthony. [[c25]] (click:?page)[(goto:"c25")]

"I know the Authority can seem intimidating and controlling," Anthony explains. "Freelancers can easily feel as if they don't have a say in anything, like they're dogs commanded to do this and do that. I'm asking you if maybe you feel a bit powerless. Maybe you feel as if you don't have a say in your life, as if you can't be happy because you're being controlled. The Authority has cut your tongue out." You shake your head. "I wish they'd cut my tongue out right now, so I don't have to speak to you." That gets a few chuckles around the room. Anthony smiles a little. [[c26]] (click:?page)[(goto:"c26")]

"I just want you to think about it, that's all. Ask yourself if you're feeling powerless. If you are, I want you to know you're not. I want you to take some power back in your life." "And how do we do that?" says Adam, the short, bald Freelancer. "Well, there are a couple of ways. You can start picking jobs //you// want." You snort. "That's a good way to get you blacklisted. The Authority won't wait around looking for a job to please one person when there are people who'll take everything." Anthony shrugs. "There are Freelancers who choose. They don't get as much jobs as you guys but they don't cut out people's tongues in frustration. And they're still working." [[c27]] (click:?page)[(goto:"c27")]

"It's like a whore," Tsu says in his deep voice, "isn't it?" Anthony turns to him. "How is it like a whore, Tsu?" "You have cheap whores. They get a lot of customers. They get fucked by everyone and their father. Then you have the neat, expensive ones, who get fewer customers than the cheap ones, but they have more freedom to pick good customers, and they don't get fucked to death by every joe." The room is quiet, then Anthony says, "Well, at least you get the point." "Yeah," Tsu says with conviction. "We're cheap whores." [[c28]] (click:?page)[(goto:"c28")]

"No," you say. "We're professionals. We get the job done no matter what. They don't give us common jobs. We're all given the highest jobs, because Authority knows we won't flinch. We're the heart of the machine. We're not expendable. They count on people like us. That's why we're here and not dead or in some underground jail. It's why we've been given a second chance even though Authority isn't happy with us." Anthony smiles. "I want us to do something before the time is up. I want $name to pair up with someone for the week. With this partner, you'll hang out with them and reflect and practice on what we've learned here." [[c29]] (click:?page)[(goto:"c29")]

Anthony looks around the room before pointing at Bertha. "Why don't you pair up with Bertha, since you seem to have developed some connection with her?" [[Pair up with Bertha]] [[Suggest pairing up with Celeste]]

"If Bertha is okay with it," you say. Bertha nods. "Of course, why won't I be?" Anthony claps once in delight. "Fantastic! Now, to make sure you're both doing the work, you'll record a message everyday on your phones of you guys together. I just want to hear both your voices three times a day. Just so I can know at least you tried. You're going to be reflecting on the things we've talked about so far: ''sexual exploration'', ''hope''-find something that makes you hopeful and positive, and ''power''- try to take some bit of control in your life. It could be something as little as driving or spending your own hard-earned money or whatever. I trust you'll figure it out." [[c30]] (set: $berthaQuest to true) (click:?page)[(goto:"c30")]

(set: $berthaQuest to false) "Hm," you say, pretending to think. "How about I do it with Celeste?" "Why Celeste?" Anthony asks. "I think I like her." Celeste's eyes meet yours, and you hold her gaze. [[interrim7]] (click:?page)[(goto:"interrim7")]

When the meeting is over, you all disperse, relieved to be free of Anthony and his club and the nondescript yellow building. Sonya and Tsu are chatting in front of the building. James is walking quickly home by himself, and Adam is already gone. Celeste is moving towards her car. One of them is //Sam C//. One of them is hiding something. And it has something to do with you. Maybe you should be careful. Stirring the snake pit with your hand might not be wise. But it might let you see the poisonous ones. [[Talk to Sonya and Tsu]] [[Talk to Celeste.]] [[Go home, you don't want to talk]]

As you near them, Tsu beckons to you. "$name, come here and hear me out. I think Anthony said something deep tonight." (if:$angeredSonya is false)["Anthony," Sonya says, "is full of shit." "Usually, he is," Tsu says. "But that part about power...don't you think picking our jobs is the right move? All this mindles //yessir// might put our mental state in some type of way later." [[sometypeofway]] (click:?page)[(goto:"sometypeofway")] ] (else:)[Sonya mutters goodbye to Tsu and walks away, obviously still pissed about your little retort earlier. Tsu tries to call her back but she waves and sashays off. "Well," Tsu says. "You've made an enemy of her, I think. Pity, she's quite a pleasant person. Anyway, what I was telling her was, that part about //power//...don't you think picking our jobs is the right move? All this mindles //yessir// might put our mental state in some type of way later." [[sonyastays]] (click:?page)[(goto:"sonyastays")] ] (set: $tsusonyatalk to true)

When she sees you approaching, she blows smoke over her face. "Finally heard your story," she says. The smoke morphs into different shapes as she speaks. "Are you impressed?" "No. It wasn't for me. You have your fans though. Sonya seems to like it. Bertha too." "Can't please everybody, I guess." She shrugs. Her black glossy lips pull on the cigarrete, the butt-end screams red. [[cel]] (click:?page)[(goto:"cel")] (set: $celTalk to true)

You shrug. "I //like// taking the jobs. It gives me meaning." Tsu nods thoughtfully. "Yes, yes I understand that. But it might be the problem. Why should our sense of meaning come from the Authority? Why can't we develop our own metric to measure our purpose?" "Oh, we all get our sense of purpose from external factors, don't we? Money, fame, attractiveness, recognition, politics, it all has to do with external approval. We're all craving for meaning from external sources.." Tsu shakes his head now. "But I refuse to believe that. That might only be a result of our broken minds. Surely there are people who've found fulfillment from within and not just by succumbing to the whims of their mindless jobs and promises of external rewards like money and fame?" [[tsutalk]] (click:?page)[(goto:"tsutalk")]

You shrug. "I //like// taking the jobs. It gives me meaning." Sonya nods in agreement. "It's what I said too. It's our job. It's like the military. Soldiers don't sit at home picking where they wanna go next." "Yeah," Tsu says. "And that's working so well for soldiers, isn't it? They don't come home with PTSD and anger issues and they don't go on power trips or anything." Sonya rolls her dark-circled eyes and looks at you. "Do you see what I'm dealing with? You agree with me, don't you?" [[sonya2]] (click:?page)[(goto:"sonya2")]

Your car is parked next to Bertha's flat blue Chevrolet. She's still sitting on the trunk making a call, giggling occasionally, her crossed legs swinging over like a little kid's. (if:$berthaQuest is true)["Hey!" She says, a little louder than she needed. "Yo." "So I guess tomorrow we begin, huh?" "Yeah. You're up for it?" "Yeah!" She grins. "Do you think we'll do any //sexual exploration// together?" She giggles. [["We'll see how things go"]] (click:?page)[(goto:"homebound")] ] (else:)["Hey!" She says, a little louder than she needed. "Yo." "So you and Celeste, huh?" "I guess so." "Do you think you'll do any //sexual exploration// with her?" [["I hope so"]] [["No"]] [["Who knows?"]] ]

"Maybe there are," you say. "I wouldn't know." You study Tsu for a second. He seems quite smart. His dark eyes are intense when they're looking at you, as if he wants to savour your every word. It might make him a very good, attentive conversationalist, but your mind is clouded with suspicion and it only makes you nervous of him. "Well," he says. "What if that's all purpose is?" "What?" "Maybe man's purpose is to help each other in some way. We cannot have purpose in isolation. We depend on each other." You frown. "What's your point, then?" [[tsutalk2]] (click:?page)[(goto:"tsutalk2")]

"That taking jobs from Authority isn't purpose or meaning. It's an escape from purpose. It's escapism. Purpose would be doing something to help people. Something that makes you feel good inside, not something that you use like a drug. It would be something apart from the jobs." He stretches his hand out to you. You shake it. His grip is unsurprisingly tight, and his palm is rough and calloused. "It's been nice talking to you, $name," he says. "I've got to go. We'll meet next week and maybe we'll talk some more." He takes a few steps towards his black Pajero, then he turns and says, "Maybe this therapy thing really works." [[tsutalk3]] (click:?page)[(goto:"tsutalk3")]

You shake your head. "Doubt it." He smiles and jumps into his car. (if:$celTalk is true)[ [[Go home..]] ] (else:)[ [[Talk to Celeste.]] [[Go home..]] ]

"I'm afraid so," you say. Tsu nods thoughtfully. "Look, I understand it. But it might be the problem. Why should our sense of purpose come from the Authority? Why can't we develop our own metric to measure our purpose?" You say, "Oh, we all get our sense of purpose from external factors, don't we? Money, fame, attractiveness, recognition, politics, it all has to do with external approval. We're all craving for direction from external sources..." Tsu shakes his head now. "But I refuse to believe that. That might be a result of our broken minds. Surely there are people who've found fulfillment from within?" [[sonya3]] (click:?page)[(goto:"sonya3")]

"Maybe you should join a church or something," Sonya says. "Maybe killing is not for you." You study Tsu for a second. He seems quite smart. His dark eyes are intense when they're looking at you, as if he wants to savour your every word. It might make him a very good, attentive conversationalist, but your mind is clouded with suspicion and it only makes you nervous of him. Sonya has an impatient look about her. She's always shifting from one foot to the other or adjusting her big earrings for the umpteenth time. You wonder how come she's an //Air// Freelancer. How can she muster enough patience to wait for hours to get her target? Maybe she chose air because of her size. She's not fat, but she's quite thick, which might make close- combat and physical exertion a bit of an effort for her. But you're not fooled. You're aware she's as skilled, maybe more skilled than you. [[sonya4]] (click:?page)[(goto:"sonya4")]

"Well," he says. "What if that's all purpose is?" "What?" Sonya says. "Maybe our purpose is to help each other in some way. We cannot have purpose in isolation. We depend on each other." You frown. "What's your point, then?" "That taking jobs from Authority isn't purpose. It's an escape from purpose. It's escapism. Purpose would be doing something to help someone. It would be something apart from the job." He stretches his hand out to you. You shake it. His grip is unsurprisingly tight, and his palm is rough and calloused. [[sonya5]] (click:?page)[(goto:"sonya5")]

"It's been nice talking to you, $name," he says. "I've got to go. We'll meet next week and maybe we'll talk some more." Tsu pats Sonya's shoulder and walks off. He takes a few steps towards his black Pajero, the he turns and says, "Maybe this therapy thing really works." [[sonya6]] (click:?page)[(goto:"sonya6")]

Sonya turns to you when Tsu disappears into his tinted-windowed car. "I'm sorry about that," she says. You smile. "I hear Adam is the same way." "Oh," she says. "No. Adam is worse. I heard him talking the other time...Jesus, man. If he keeps talking like that, Authority will kill him, I swear. He's all about how he regrets who he is and stuff he's done." "I can't wait to hear what he did to be here." "Yeah," Sonya says. Her round eyes are watery gray and bore into yours. "I did like what you did, though." "Well, thanks." You haven't been complimented on your work before. It feels odd. Satisfying. And from another Freelancer like Sonya it's almost like a good artist giving a peer great feedback. [[sonya7]] (click:?page)[(goto:"sonya7")]

"Maybe it'll be your turn next time," you say. She lifts her hand. "Don't even remind me. Gotta leave, man. See you later." She walks away. [[Watch her]] [[Look away]]

Her curves are supple and perfectly crafted. Her short jeans shorts are tight and her hips sway in them softly with each step. For a wild moment you fantasize about her, how it would feel if- Suddenly she turns and comes back to you. (if:$berthaQuest is true)[She leans in and says only one thing: "Be careful with Celeste. But I don't need to tell you that, do I?" Then she walks away.] (else:)[She leans in and says only one thing: "You gotta be careful getting close to //certain// //persons//. But I don't need to tell you that, do I?" Then she walks away.] [[endsonya]] (click:?page)[(goto:"endsonya")]

James is just a silhouette in the distance now, hands pocketed as he walks towards the city. His imposing height makes him look a hoodlum searching for trouble. Celeste is smoking by her car, (if:$fkedCeleste is true)[the car you fucked her in, and Bertha is making a call, sitting on the trunk of her car.](else:)[and Bertha is making a call, sitting on the trunk of her car.] Suddenly your hear Sonya coming back to you. She leans in and says one thing: "Be careful with Celeste. But I don't need to tell you that, do I?" Then she leaves. [[endsonya]] (click:?page)[(goto:"endsonya")]

[[Talk to Celeste.]] [[Go home, you don't want to talk]]

(if:$berthaQuest is false)["So," you say. "How are we going to do this pairing up thing?" "You tell me," she says. "You're the one who wanted me." Her dark eyes are set on you. They're either blank, or they're teasing, you aren't sure. "Do you want to start tonight, then?" She blows smoke through the side of her mouth. "I'll pass. We'll start tomorrow." She throws the cigarrete down and crushes it with her high heel. She glances at you before getting into her car. [[cel2]] (click:?page)[(goto:"cel2")] ] (else:)[ You smile. "You think your strap-on thing is better than mine?" "//Certainly//. It was fucked up in the right way. Yours is just childish, like you so desperately want to impress an audience." "So you agree you're fucked up?" She waves the cigarrete over her face. "We're all fucked up, it's why we can do our jobs. I just don't think our fucked-up needs fixing." [[cel3]] (click:?page)[(goto:"cel3")] ]

In a moment, she drives off, but before the car slides into the street you see her eyes glance at the side-mirror to look at you. Then she disappears into the night. (if:$tsusonyatalk is true)[ [[Go home.]] ] (else:)[ [[Talk to Sonya and Tsu]] [[Go home.]] ]

"Me neither," you say. You're both silent for a while. (if:$fkedCeleste is true)[Last week you'd been shifting each other's underwear to consume your aggressive lust in the backseat. You wonder if today you get to take off the long-sleeve dress she's wearing. But you want to do it properly this time. Preferably not in the back of a car. "Listen," you say. She shakes her head. "No, //you// listen. I've got to go home." She drops the cigarette and gets into the car. "See you later." [[endofnight]] (click:?page)[(goto:"endofnight")] ] (else:)[She looks pretty, perhaps in an intimidating kind of way. Maybe it's the dark lips and her arched eyebrows. She looks like, you think, a tiger. They seem like they'll fuck you up, but if you look at them, you can't deny their beauty. "I'd like to have a drink with you," you say. "It's nice that you know what you'd like," she says. "I also would like to go home." [[endofnight]] (click:?page)[(goto:"endofnight")] ]

Your car is parked next to Bertha's flat blue Chevrolet. She's still sitting on the trunk making a call, giggling occasionally, her crossed legs swinging over like a little kid's. (if:$berthaQuest is true)["Hey!" She says, a little louder than she needed. "Yo." "So I guess tomorrow we begin, huh?" "Yeah. You're up for it?" "Yeah!" She grins. "Do you think we'll do any //sexual exploration// together?" She giggles. [["We'll see how things go"]] ] (else:)["Hey!" She says, a little louder than she needed. "Yo." "So you and Celeste, huh?" "I guess so." "Do you think you'll do any //sexual exploration// with her?" [["I hope so"]] [["No"]] [["Who knows?"]] ]

She flicks the cigarette into the hedges that surround the parking lot, then she hops into the car and drives off after a few seconds. Before the car slides into the street, you see her eyes glance at the side-mirror to look at you, then she disappears into the night. [[end2]] (click:?page)[(goto:"end2")]

(if:$tsusonyatalk is true)[ [[Go home.]] ] (else:)[ [[Talk to Sonya and Tsu]] [[Go home.]] ]

She nods slowly. "I like that answer. We'll leave it to fate to decide. Maybe we've already fucked in the future. Maybe not. I'll call you tomorrow." "Yeah." "No, //you// call me. I might get very hungover tomorrow." "You haven't drunk that much." "Not yet, no." A stray wind blows her mane of hair aside, allowing you to take a peek at her neck, but before you can see enough of her skin, she swings the hair back to cover it. [[hb]] (click:?page)[(goto:"hb")]

Could it be her? Could she be hiding something the way she hides her skin? //Are you Sam C?// "See you later," you say, walking back to your car. //"Aurevior." // [[hb1]] (click:?page)[(goto:"hb1")]

Tonight, nobody follows you as you drive back to your apartment near the beach. [[interrim8]] (click:?page)[(goto:"interrim8")]

She smiles. "Go you. Just don't give her a wire and a strap-on. Unless you're into being dead." You smile. "Not my kink, I'd say." She laughs. "No shit." A stray wind blows her mane of hair aside, allowing you to take a peek at her neck, but before you can see enough of her skin, she swings the hair back to cover it. Could it be her? Could she be hiding something the way she hides her skin? //Are you Sam C?// "See you later," you say, walking back to your car. //"Aurevior."// [[hb1]] (click:?page)[(goto:"hb1")]

"Not a fan?" Bertha says. "Something like that." "I get it. If her last job is any indication of her kinks...well, it'd be better to stay out of that." "Yeah." A stray wind blows her mane of hair aside, allowing you to take a peek at her neck, but before you can see enough of her skin, she swings the hair back to cover it. [[interrim1]] (click:?page)[(goto:"interrim1")]

Bertha smiles and nods. "Who knows indeed. Just be careful. It looks like she likes her sexual partners a bit headless and sodomized." "I'll keep that in mind." A stray wind blows her mane of hair aside, allowing you to take a peek at her neck, but before you can see enough of her skin, she swings the hair back to cover it. [[interrim1]] (click:?page)[(goto:"interrim1")]

Could it be her? Could she be hiding something the way she hides her skin? //Are you Sam C?// "See you later," you say, walking back to your car. //"Aurevior." // [[hb1]] (click:?page)[(goto:"hb1")]

But what happens when the mouse suddenly grows claws and snarls and scratches back? That's how you feel. Like prey. Like a fucking target. An unfamilair chill creeps up your spine. [[c3f]] (click:?page)[(goto:"c3f")]

A memory slides into your mind. During your training days, an old master once demonstrated a technique where you could drink poison first, to assure your target that the drink was fine. The target would die. You would not. [[Take the Drink]] [[Nah]]

"No," you say. "The poison wouldn't have killed him-it would've worn off after a while-but the 'antidote' did. I called the police and they found her with the syringe that had killed her son and her husband's tongue in her hands. They arrested her. She's in a psychiatric facilty. She's lost her mind for real now." [[interrim6]] (click:?page)[(goto:"interrim6")]

The room is quiet for a while, like it had been when Celeste had recounted her strap-on story. Finally, Sonya says, "Well, very edgy. I like it." "Alright now," Anthony says, holding a hand up to her. "Calm down." He looks at you. [[c21]] (click:?page)[(goto:"c21")]

"Well, okay," Anthony says. "You and Celeste it is. Now, to make sure you're both doing the work, you'll record a message everyday on your phones of you guys together. I just want to hear both your voices three times a day. Just so I can know at least you tried. You're going to be reflecting on the things we've talked about so far: ''sexual exploration'', ''hope''-find something that makes you hopeful and positive, and ''power''- try to take some bit of control in your life. It could be something as little as driving or spending your own hard-earned money or whatever. I trust you'll figure it out." [[c30]] (click:?page)[(goto:"c30")]

Your car is parked next to Bertha's flat blue Chevrolet. She's still sitting on the trunk making a call, giggling occasionally, her crossed legs swinging over like a little kid's. (if:$berthaQuest is true)["Hey!" She says, a little louder than she needed. "Yo." "So I guess tomorrow we begin, huh?" "Yeah. You're up for it?" "Yeah!" She grins. "Do you think we'll do any //sexual exploration// together?" She giggles. [["We'll see how things go"]] ] (else:)["Hey!" She says, a little louder than she needed. "Yo." "So you and Celeste, huh?" "I guess so." "Do you think you'll do any //sexual exploration// with her?" [["I hope so"]] [["No"]] [["Who knows?"]] ]

Part 4 (text-style:"expand")[//"...during every day of an unillustrious life, time carries us. But a moment always comes when we have to carry it."//] ''-Albert Camus.'' ~~<h1> The Demeter Club </h1> ~~ (link:"Play Part 4")[(goto:"Part 4")]

''Part 4 will be released soon! Leave a comment, follow us, send an email or anything if you're enjoying the game. It motivates us to keep writing. Thanks for playing!'' (link:"Replay Part 3")[(goto:"Part 3.")] (link:"Replay Part 2")[(goto:"2transition")] (link:"Replay Part 1")[(goto:"Begin")] (link:"Credits")[(goto:"Credits")] //the new choices you make if you restart will affect Part 4//

You ring the doorbell again, getting slightly impatient now. The sun is hot on your neck as you stand in the small porch, waiting for the door to open up. You're sure there's someone inside. You can hear signs of life from within. [[f1]]

(if:$berthaQuest is false)[ On the street, a couple of kids are walking a big dog. You watch as dog takes a big dump on the sidewalk. One of the kids is holding a rubber which he's expected to pick the shit up with, but he glances over hsi hsoulder, sees nobody coming, and moves on with his friends. [[bert]] ] (else:)[The house sits in the middle [[cels]] ] You hear footsteps from within. About time.

Double-click this passage to edit it.

The door clikcs and swings open to reveal Celeste. She's wearing only a large oversized tshirt with Spongebob blowing shiny bubbles on her chest. the tshirt reaches down to her knees. Her hair is not in the usual pile, instead it hands in a curly afro over her face. Her lips are not shiy with lipstick, but they're still dark, and you realize for the first time that she has naturally dark lips. "How did you know where I live?" she says. "I'm mysterious like that." [[cels1]]

She squints at you. "Anthony texted me your adress and phone number last night." "Ah..." You remain staring at each other, then she turns around, leaving the door ajar. "Come inside. Leave your shoes, please." [[cels2]]

The small vestibule is filled with several high heels and slippers. You leave your sneakers and follow Celeste through a narrow corridor and into a living room. The place is cold. All the windows are closed but the curtains are open wide, so lovely sunlight washes over everything, which creates a srange effect because it feelsl ike it should be warm, but the ac under the ceiling chills the air. [[cels3]]

There's an arrangement of blue sofas in a semi circle with a curved television in front of them. The tv is on but muted on a news channel. There's a wide desk on the other side of the room with a swivel chair. On the desk is a laptop. It's open at a word document, and there's paragraphs of text on the screen. "Well," Celeste says. "Welcome to my place." [[cels4]]

"I like it," you say. Your curiousity gets the better of you, and you graviate towards the laptop, trying to make out the words, but Celeste gets there first, blockign your path. She closes the laptop and turns around to look at you. "Oh," you say. "Im sorry. Didnt realize it was personal." You're ashamed of being so nosy, but you also know why you are: you wanted to know what Celeste could have been typing so much. [[cels5]]

"It's nothing," Celeste says. "I...write in my spare time." "Like stories?" "Yup." "Are they good?" A small smile plays on her black lips. "Nah." "I hear people who answer no to that question are actually quite good." "What if I was like, an engineer? I build a briddge and people ask, is it any good, and I'm like, not really." [[cels6]]

You stand there staring at each other for a while. She looks less guarded than she does at the therapy sessions. (if:$fkedCeleste is true)[You want to hold her, maybe kiss those lips, feel her body again. You wonder if she's feeling the same way you do. That look in her eyes could mean anything. She's perfected her gaze so well you cant decide if it's neutral or if she's daring you to make the first step. Just like a tiger. Pet it or fear it? You're aware of the knife concealed agasint your thigh, in case you've just walked in Sam C's house. So you're ready for both: petting the tiger or getting ready to defend yourself. [[food]] ] (else:)[She looks prettier with the curly afro. Her gaze unsettles you while it arouses you in the lnghty silence. She's perfected that look in her eyes so well you cant decide if it's neutral or flirtatcious. Pretty like a tiger. Pet it or fear it? You're aware of the knife concealed agasint your thigh, in case you've just walked in Sam C's house. So you're ready for both: petting the tiger or getting ready to defend yourself. [[food]] ]

Finally, she says. "Have you eaten?" "Uh, no." "I was going to fry some eggs. You want some?" "Sure." Are you going to poison me, Sam? Are you Sam? "Follow me, then." [[cels7]]

She leads you out of the living room back into the hallway. You move to the left, away from the entrance, and enter another room. It's a neat kitchen, and on the right there's a dining table and a smaller sitting area with small one-person sofas and a wall filled with books. [[Compliment the place]] [[Compliment her hair]] [[Ask if she lives alone]] [[Talk about therapy.]] [[More about her stories]]

"You've got a really nice place." "I guess. Where do you live?" "Near the beach." She looks at you. "That must be nice too right?" "I guess. Except stuff rusts quickly." She's takign eggs out of the fridge. "What do you mean?" "I forget the scientific reason for it, but I think it's the salt in the air. Or moisture or whatever. Spoons and pots rust rapidly." [[convo]]

"I like your hair," you say. She runs her hands through her curls. "Yeah? Better than what I usually do?" [[Much better]] [[Be diplomatic, goddamnit.]] (set: $compliment to true)

Double-click this passage to edit it.

"How do you think therapy is going?" You say. She looks at you behidn her curly afro bangs. "You know I think it's bullshit." She squints at you. "You don't seriously believe in it?" "Of course not," you say. "We just do our bits like actors and get back to work." She nods. "That's right." [[ther]] (set: $therapy to true)

"Will you let me read soem of your writing?" She bites her sausage. "Onyl if you behave yourself." "You'd really let me read them?" "Yeah, why not?" "I dunno, I thought it was a personal thing for you." "Hm, it kinda is, but...it's my...it's different from what I do." "You mean killing people?" "Yeah. I write children stories." "No shit?" She grins. "Yeah. Not like, strictly children. Adults can enjoy them too, but there arent any explicit stuff." [[chil]] (set: $story to true)

"I did not know that." "I ddint either." She's slicing bread into a plate now. You lean back on the coutner and watch her. "Fortunately I dont cook much." She looks at you. "But your story yesterday, you said you disguised yourself as a cook." "I never actually did the cooking. Just cutting carrots and stuff." "You eat takeout everytime." "Everyday." "It's unhealthy." "I know." (if:$relationship is true)["What about your girlfriend? Doesnt she cook?" You want to ask her how she knows you have a girlfriend, then you remember telling the whole club on your first session. [[You're no longer in a relationship]] [[Yes she cooks sometimes]] ] (else:)["You could hire a caterer or something." "Jeez, are you goign to mother me the whole day?" [[moreee]] ]

She points at you with the breadknife. "You know what, maybe I should. What did that douchebag say we're supposed to be workign on? Power or something?" "You mean Anthony?" "Yeah. Douchebag." "Somethign about takign some control over our lives." "Exactly." She tosses the breadknife and catches it deftly at the blade, extending the hilt to you. "Take control, then." [[control]]

"That relationship is dead," you say. She looks at you. "You killed her?" "No I didnt //kill her//, Jesus. She's alive. We're just no more." "Oh." "Why would I kill my my girlfriend?" She shrugs. "Freelancers do things." "Maybe you thought I cut her head off after I fucked her." "Oh ha-ha. Very funny." [["Are you really into that?"]]

"Occasionally," you say. "She's pretty busy most of the time though." "Maybe you should cook for yourself sometimes." You shrug. "I dunno, the kitchen is kind of a woman's office, you know?" Celeste stops cutting the bread and looks at you. Even when you break into a smile, she doesn't stop glaring. "You did //not// just say that." You start to laugh. "It's a joke!" Your ex, Stacy, had the same reaction when you started makign that joke around her. It's a horrible thing to say, but you're amused by how much it triggers women. [[interrim9]]

You laugh. "That's not what he meant." "He said any little thing. Like driving or...cooking." You shake your head and snatch the breadknife, continuign the work she was doing. She takes a bottle of water from the fridge and sits on the counter to your side. The baggy tshirt hikes up her dark thighs. Her calves are atheltiic, even more so than yours. Focus. She might be Sam. She's seducing you. You'll never forgive yourself if you die because you were horny, like some amateur freelancer. That was the most dishonurable death of all. [[cooked]]

You don't like to cook, but you didnt do a bad job. In an hour's time you've lain the table with you and Celeste's food. She sits at the head of the table and you sit adjacent to her. The room is quiet, save for the clinking of your forks and sips on the plate, and the little sipping noises as tea is drank. The silence is a bit awkward. You can faintly hear the kids outside still shouting. [[Compliment her hair]] [[Ask if she lives alone]] [[Talk about therapy.]] [[More about her stories]] [[Let there be silence]]

She points at you with the breadknife. "You know what, instead of askign questions, you could cook. What did that douchebag say we're supposed to be workign on? Power or something?" "You mean Anthony?" "Yeah. Douchebag." "Somethign about takign some control over our lives." "Exactly." She tosses the breadknife and catches it deftly at the blade, extending the hilt to you. "Take control, then." [[control]]

She points at you with the breadknife. "You know what, you're going to cook right now." "C'mon, it was a stupid joke, I swear." "Oh, no. You're cooking. What did that douchebag say we're supposed to be workign on? Power or something?" "You mean Anthony?" "Yeah. Douchebag." "Somethign about takign some control over our lives." "Exactly." She tosses the breadknife and catches it deftly at the blade, extending the hilt to you. "Take control, then." [[control]]

You let the cackle of utensils continue for a while till Celeste says, "You're usually always tryign to get me to talk." "And you've usually been evasive. Im kinda tired of it." She says quietly, "I know I have." "Why?" [[evade]] (set: $silence to true)

After a while, she says, "What's been your favorite kill?" You chew on your bread for a while, thinking. "There was this one time in Egypt. A snake bit my neck, and i was going to die, but I still managed to kill the target, and get to the hospital." She nods. "That's wild. In a couple of minutes it should've killed you." "And I felt dead, honestly. but that's why i liked it. I felt like a badass when I came out of it alive. What's yours?" "I fought with a bodybuilder in a massage parlour. Naked." "You have my attention." [[mass]]

"Yeah, it kinda is." She raises her eyebrows. "Really? Well, that sucks. I've been going around and no-oen told me I had a ugly hairdo." "Now, hold on," you say. "I didnt say it was ugly, I just like this one better." "Why?" "I dunno, it looks natuarl and effortless. It's like you're pretty without even trying." She raises her eyebrows. A small smile tugs her dark lips. "Do you tell all the girls that?" You smile. "That one just slipped out my mouth, honestly." [[pretty]]

"They're both cool," you say carefully. "But...both of them have charms of their own." She laughs, almost spillign her tea. "Jesus, I can just hear your mind trying to sya the right thing. It's okay if you like this one better. I think I do too." "Then why not do this evyertime?" She shrugs. "You know what I think it is? My mom never liked anythign that wasnt perfect you know? My hair had to be perfect. My makeup, my dress. She didnt like any hair out of place. I think it's subconsciously got to me. [[pretty2]]

"Do I have to compliment you now?" "You know what, I'd like that." She sighs. "You grey eyes startle me in a good way. Like they make me uncomfortbale in a kind of attractive way." "aw," you say sweetly. "Did that hurt you to say that?" "A lot." [[endchat]]

"Well, you dont need to be perfect. In a way, things that are beautiful have some kind of imperfections font they?" "Hmm," she says. "Yeah. Like nature." "And dimples." "The earth." "And lisps." She raises her eyebrows. "You have a lisp kink?" "It's not a kink. I just find it attractive." "Right." "And I want to fuck people with lisps." She smiles. "You're not funny." [[lisp]]

"That's cool." She looks at you for a bit. "I think it's my therapy, honestly." "How so?" She sits back and runs her hand through her hair. "I dunno, it just feels somewhat liberating to write about happy things." "Holy shit," you say. "What?" "You've crossed soemthign on Anthony's list. Being hopeful." [[chil2]]

Celeste thinks for a moment. "I guess I have, havent I? I'm a better therapist than douchebag. Now we gotta do you." "You look into your tea. Ain't gonna happen." "You have nothing? Like, no side stuff when you're not working?" "No," you say. "The job is everythign to me. It's why I need this therapy bullshit to end." She looks at you for a while, then she says, "You're fucked up too. Just a little more subtler than me." [[endchat]]

`[[Compliment her hair]] [[Ask if she lives alone]] [[Talk about therapy.]] [[More about her stories]]` [[endchat]]

She smiles and leans back. "She was the target. I booked the room next to hers. They oiled me up and stuff, and then I asked the massager to leave, then slipped into the bodybuilder's room, knocked out the massager. She was really strong, but we were both really slippery with the oil, so we fought like children, grabbing hair and boobs and trying to poke each other's eyes out. At one poitn to took a towel to clean herself so she could fight better, and I wrapped it aroudn her neck and killed her." "That's funny," you say. "It is! What kills me is, I actualyl think she could've killed me or hurt me, if she didnt feel the need to wipe herself down, as if I would wait for her!" Ceeste laughs and you join her, imaginign her slipping and falling on tiled fllors with her target. [[endchat]]

When you're done with your meal, you take the dishes to the kitchen and wash them. She disappears somewhere in the house and returns holding her smartphone. By then you're done with the dishes. She holds up the phone. "We've got to record for the thing. Douchebag says three times a day." "Right," you say. You wipe our hands on a napkin and turn to her. "What do we say?" [[say]]

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She hits the record button on the screen. "Hey douchebag, this is Celeste, and I'm with..." You lean in. "$name." "Yup." She ends the recording. You're standing close to each other. You can smell sweet deodorant or perfume on her. Her dark eyes drill into yours and do not shift. Her lips are slightly parted. [[tice]]

//Sexual exploration.// The tension is strong in the air. She seems to be silently daring you. You want to seize her and kiss those full dark lips. You want to pin her on the counter and lift her Spongebob shirt. You want to feel yourself between her athletic legs right in the kitchen. Then she breaks eye contact suddenly, and all the magic of the moment is gone, like shattered glass. [[gone]]

"I'm going to be having friends over," she says. "They're writing buddies. Do you want to stick around?" "Oh, er, sure." "Cool." She's turning away, but you say, "Actually, can I use your phone?" "What's happened with yours?" "I need to call soemone who's avoidign me, you know how it goes." "Your girlfriend?" [["Yeah."]] [["No."]]

She hands the phone to you and walks away. You wait till you hear her far in the house, then you browse through her phoen quickly, feeling your heartrate increase slightly. You need to know if she's Sam C. If she isnt, then you want to strike down one name, at least. You want to have someone to trust. You want to make sure you're not in danger in her house. [[continuee]]

She spills a little bit of tea on Spongebob across her chest and starts wiping it away quickly. She catches you watching her. "My boyfriend's shirt," she explains. "Oh. I didnt know you had a boyfriend." "Had. We're no more together. Apparently I'm too clingy." "Ah." "I just like the shirt. I dont miss him or anything. It feels comfortable to walk around in." "It looks comfortable."

The first thing to do is obvious. You check her caller id. It says the phoen belogns to Celeste. But you know how Freelancers can dig themselves deep into their fake personas. You need somethign more to decide if she's who she claims she is. You open up her Telegram chatting app. You type, "Boyfriend." A bunch of results show up from any instance where she's typed in the keyword. They're mostly o her friends. her actualy boyfriend's number is deleted. [[chats]]

//maybe he doesnt want to be my boyfriend anymore.// //you should have a talk with him.// //he doesnt see me going around flirting with other people's boyfriends does he? hes being a real cunt like i havent got a point.// //how's your boyfriend?// //still being cunty. how's yours?// //my boyfriend bought me a car last night// //good for you, jenna, you slut.// //why are you saying that?"// //sorry, im just jealous. Henry's still driving me crazy.// //do you still love him?"// //i do. he's sweet.// //it's over. he left.// [[chats1]]

You open her Maps application and type in Henry. A house a few kilometers away comes up. She's visited there so many times the apps has bookmarked it for her convenience. You capture the address in your mind. [[chats2]]

You walk to the living room and toss the pheon on the couch. "Celeste?" You call. "I'm going out." "What?" She says from soemwhere in the house, probaly the bedroom. "You said you'll stay." "Yeah, somethign came up." "Well you know you've got to come back? We need to record two more times for douchebag." "I'll be here soon." She's sayign soemthign else, but you ignore her, walk out of the door, get in the car. You'll find out if Celeste is Sam C or not. And if she is, your next meeting will probbaby be less than cordial. You can feel the blade agsinst your thigh. [[bf]]

You enter Henry's address into your own Google maps. The app promises a fifty minute arrival time, but it's slightly less because there's a lot of traffic on a Thursday. You brimming with impatience. Henry will for sure know whether Celeste is Celeste or not, and if they've broken up he'll probably be less eager to yield information about her. This is why you dotn do relationships like this: they're always a stray thread. Anyone with the right motive could pull at the thread and make the whole thing unravel, and then you're in lots of trouble. [[bf1]]

But it also occurs to you that you're slightly jealous. Celeste has a writing club and friends she can text when she's drunk. And she had a boyfriend. You've got nothing except the job. You've made the job your entire personality. You 'd thought other Freelancers did the same, but now you're not sure. No, surely Celeste must be the odd one. Look what getting into relationships has doen to her? You've found a way to burrow into her life, soemthign a Freelancer must not allow. Still, you wonder what the other Freelancers in the Demeter Club have going on in their lives. [[bf2]]

The map takes you away from the busy city. The skyscrapers start getting shorter and the roads get quieter and less congested. Soon you're on an untarred road. It's not too dusty, but it is the colour of rot. It's a residential estate with the houses that look very similar: slighlty dusty lawns, low fence walls, bungalow-like homes. [[bf3]]

In five minutes the map tells you you're at your destination. You stop the car in front of the building and survey it. The curtains are drawn over all the windows. There's a car parked in front of a garage beside the main building. The car is dripping wet and someone has left a running hose on the windshield. There's a bell fixed on the small gate. You're about to ring it when a man appears from the garage, carrying a foam. He's barechested with casually biult chest and lots of hair on his chest. He looks young and old at the same time, with black hair tied into a pony tail. [[bf4]]

When he sees you, he stops and frowns. His triceps tighten as he speaks. "Who are you? What do you want?" "I'm looking for Henry," you say. "What are you lookign for him for?" He says it in a way that makes you ninety percent sure he's Henry. "I want to talk to him about Celeste." The man stands there, frozen to the spot. He's examining you closely, trying to figure you out. You wonder if maybe he sells drugs, because this is a bit too much suspision of a guest than possible. [[bf5]]

"Henry is not around," he says slowly, his expression slowly turnign from hostility to somethign liek anxiety. [[He's Henry]] [[Ask where Henry is]] [[Tell him you'll wait.]]

"Do you always refer to yourself in the third person?" his eyes grow wider, now deserting the anger. now he looks afriad. Again, it strikes you as very odd that he reacts this way to a complete stranger. "What do you want from me." "ONly to talk about something, I swear. I have no other intentions. Can I come in?" "Wait." You place your hand on the fence. That was a mistake. He thinks you're comign in. He drops the bucket and dashes into the garage. [[bf6]]

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"Shit!" You mutter to yourself and leap over the short gate. You run across the wet pavement compound. Henry is in the garage, standing next to a wall. His hand is on a switch that he's just pressed. the garage gate slides down from a crevice in the ceiling. He's attemptign to shut the garage agsint you, but it's not fast enough. You dive under just before it seals shut. Henry runs into the house through a door at the back of the garage. [[bf7]]

You run into the door. It swings open just before Henry can lock it, knockign him over. He hurries to his feet and runs inside. He's not just running. He wont just run into the house to escape you. It's either he knows there's a way to hide from you or he has soemthing to defend himself in the house. You need to be careful. You don't want to kill him. [[Throw your knife, try and stop him now.]] [[Chase him]]

In a fluid movement you take the knife from where it's lodged between your boot and your ankle. You only need slight aiming before you throw it. It soars through the corridor and embeds itself in the back of Henry's leg. he buckles over and falls, but kudos to the guy, he keeps crawlign away, despearte to escape you even though he's bleeding into the carpet in the sitting area. [[bf8]]

You dont want to hurt him. Yet. He runs into a small living room. You follow. There are stairs to the side. He scampers upwards. You run after him. He's fast. The wooden stairs creak and groan under both your feet. "Henry!" You say. "Henry, for godsake, stop! I'm not here to hurt you." He doesnt listen. He onyl keeps climbing. [[bf9]]

You walk to him. "Dude, what the fuck? Why are you running?" "I did everything you asked me to do," Henry says. He's given up now, and he lies on the carpet on his stomach, lookign up at you while one hand clutches his wounded leg. "What are you talkign about?" you say. "Look, whatever business you have, I'm not here about that. I just want to talk about Celeste." [[talking]] (set: $knived to true) (set: $shot to false)

He leads you into a hallway, and slips quickly into one of the rooms, shutting the door behidn him. You pause in front of the door. [[Barge in]] [[Wait]]

You kick the door open. There's only about a two-second room for you to react to the scene in the room. Henry cocks the shotgun, points it at your face, clicks. You step forward, grab the shotgun, force it away from your body. The shot explodes into the wall. The metal barrel ripples plainfully up your arm. [[fight]]

You pause at the door, not wanting to frighten him further. There's no way to escape fro him. "Henry," you call. "I'm not here to hurt you. I'm not whoever you think I am. I'm just here to talk." "Talk to //this//," you hear Henry say inside, and then you hear the unmistakebale sound of a shotgun being cocked. There's only a two second window where you can react. One. You start to move away from the door. Two. [[bf10]] (set: $shot to true) (set: $knived to false)

He's breathless. "What...what do you want?" "Why the //fuck// are you running?" "Because I thought we were done! You promised to leave me alone." "Who did?" You can see in his eyes he's starting to realize you're not who he thought you were. "Nobody," he says. You flex the weapon. "I'll ask you only one other time. And you wont lie to me. What are you runnign from?" [[talking1]]

You look at Henry. He opens his mouth to say something, but he never gets thew ords out. You snatch the shotgun away and kick him hard in the chest. he stumbles backward into the window. He turns and tries to lift the window. He wants to escape through it. You point the gun at his back. "Good idea, champ. Try it." He glances back and sees the gun pointed at him. He lifts his arms. His armpits are hairy. [[talking]]

A hole explodes into the door. Somethign hot catches your shoulder, and it feels like a scalding knife is slicing away your flesh, digging into your bones. You scream, holding your injured arm. For a moment all you see is red as the pain burns through you. The shotgun cocks again. Bullet casings hit the ground. Then you hear footsteps approaching; he's coming to finish the job. [[bf11]]

"Don't make another fucking move," you hear Henry say. "I'll fuckign end you before you can do anything." You take the knife from where it's strapped aroudn your ankle. You take it out, but you know if you show any part of your body int he doorway, Henry will shoot it off. You have to wait for him. [[bf12]]

The footsteps come closer. You also know that's a double-barrlled shotgun. He has only one other shot left, and when people are inpanic they forget that bullets have a limit. You put your hand in the doorway, retrieving it quickly. Bang. A shot explodes into the air, bullets embedd themselves in the wall across the hallway. That gun's empty now. [[bf13]]

You walk into the bedroom. Henry starts clickign wildly, the gun pointed at your chest. "You're out, asshole." He wields the gun like a two handed sword and swings it over his shoulder, like he's chooping wood. He step out of the way, throw a fist into his cheek with your good hand. He stumbles backward. Before he can recover you kick him hard in the chest. He's thrown into the window behind him. [[bf14]]

You tries to come at you again. You show him the knife. It glints in the sunlight that comes through the window. "Are we done playign games, Henry?" He looks at the knife, nods, and raises his arm. His pits are hairy. He's breathign hard, his well-carved triceps rising and falling. "Good," you say. Your arm stings, and somehow it gives you a slight headache. But thank God, you were only grazed. It's nothing some basic medic kit wouldnt solve. [[talking]]

"You said you were lookign for Celeste," he says. "I'm not looking for her. I just know you were with her. I want to ask you soem questions abotu her." "When I was still with her another person came to me. They said they wanted to talk abotu her too. They...they threatened me." "What did they want to talk about?" "I couldnt even fuckign tell! They wanted me to ask her questions. Questions like what she'd been doing on..." "On what?" [[talking3]]

"Well, I..." "Think before lying to me, man. You've pissed me off and I //want// to kill you." "You know what she does?" "Tell me." "Well, she's...she's a killer." You're silent, staring at Henry's face. How the fuck did Celeste let it come to this, where her boyfriend knows about her ans she wouldnt get rid of him? "And?" you say. "This person wanted what?" [[talking4]]

"I was suppsoed to ask her about her jobs. I was suppsoed to be romantic to her, soemtimes I was suppsoed to drug her so she'd tell me about her jobs, as she calls it." "Why?" "I dunno, but it sounded like they wanted to hear something specific. I think maybe there's a speicifc job where she did somethign bad or-or wrong. Or maybe they think she knows something from one of the jobs she did." (if:$shot is true)[Your arm stings.] (else:)[Your arm stings deep inside your arms where the shotgun had rattled you.] "Who is they?" [[talking5]]

"I dont know," Henry says. "They were always in a hat and coat, and their voice was distorted, like comign through a voice changer or something. I couldnt make out whether they were man or woman." "Did they get what they wanted?" Henry shakes his head. "I doubt it. They were very disappointed. I dont think Celeste is the person they were lookign for, but they asked me to continue askign her questions." You frown. "But you broke up with her." [[talking6]]

"I did. Because she's fuckign crazy. She's clingy and she's crazy, like-like a wild dog or something." Cat/Tiger. "So I had to break it off. I told them she ended the relationship and they said okay, but I thought they'd come back. I thought it was you." (if:$shot is true)[You try to think while pain shoots up your arm, spreading across your chest.] (else:)There's a dull pain in your hand as you try to think. "What's her name?" You say. "Whose name?" "Your fuckign girlfriend." "I thought you knew that." "Humour me." [[talking7]]

"Celeste." "And you're sure?" "We were in a writing class together, I'm sure." You let the room remain in quiet. Henry doesnt look like he's lying. He knows too much for him to be lying. He knows enough to call the assignments a 'job'. Who was this person? Sam C? Or are they after Sam C? Nothign makes sense to you, but at least you've crossed one name from your list. Celeste isnt Sam C. You feel oddly elated that she isnt. You can trust her. Somethign stirs in the room. [[talking8]]

There's a woman on the bed. She'd been there this whole time. She has her back on the backboard. She has short red hair and is wearing a black see-through nightgown. You can see her red nipples behind the thin fabric. "Hi," she says. "Who the fuck is this?" You say to Henry. "She's..." he glances at her. "She's a prositute." "Sex worker," the redhead says. "is fine." "Yeah," henry says. "And a janitor is a carpenter is a wood engineer. gimme a fuckign break." [[kill them both, they know too much]] [[leave them be]]

When henry dies, the sex worker tries to escape, but you get a hold of her. She now lies on the bed, blood dripping down her throat, flowing down one of her red nipples. You leave. [[backtocel]]

"I'm going to go," you say, lookign at Henry. "You're not going to tell anyone about this. Or about Celeste or about what she does." "Man," henry says. "If I wanted to I would've done it a long time ago. but somethign tells me even the police can't save me from...you people." "Somethign is right." You glance at the redhead. "Hey," she says, raising her hands slightly. The robes pull back, properly exposign her breasts. "I'm already wanted by the police, and I have a record of drug-use. I'm not in any hurry to go to a station." [[warning]]

It's four o'clock when you get back to Celeste's. (if:$shot is true)[She sees the tears in your arm and tells you to come insde, without another word. She sits you on the couch and attends to your wounds. She applies spirits and stitches you up. All Freelancers have been taught basic first aid skills, but her fingers are extraoridnairaly adept at it. When she's done, she sits beside you on the couch. She's sittign on one of her legs. [[backtocel1]] ] (else:)[She opens her mouth to say something, but you stop her and barge inside, into the living room. she sits beside you on the couch. She's sittign on one of her legs. [[backtocel1]] ]

"But there's somethign you should know," Henry says. "I tell you this because I dont want Celeste to get hurt." "What?" "I dont think she's the only one the person is targeting. I think she has friends, and any of them might be the target. But the person isnt sure who knows what they want." The Demeter Club members. You turn and leave Henry and the redhead sex worker. [[backtocel]]

"Are you writing friends gone?" "Yeah," she says. "A few hours ago. What's happened?" You take a deep breath, then you tell her about your little adventure and the yellow folder. She listens with rapt attention and in silence till you're done, then she takes a moment to process what she's just heard. Then she says, "Who the fuck is Sam C?" "I would like to know too." [[backtocel2]]

She runs her hand through her curly afro. "Could be Samantha." "Could be Samuel." "Samira." "Sampson. Samaya." "Very convenient name." "Yup." [[backtocel3]]

"So...wait. This Sam person infiltrates the Demeter Club, and someone is lookign for her-or him. Is Sam on the run?" "I dont know. Maybe Sam is in the club, and the same person who contacted your boyfriend." "Exboyfriend, the cunt-" "But I think one thing is clear. One of us in the Club knows something, and someone wants that information. Or wants to kill the person with the information." "If they just wanted to kill the person I think they'd have just tried to kill us all. They had Henry turned against me. They could've made him slip somethign in my drink. The end. They want somethign more." [[backtocel4]]

After a while, Celeste says. "We've got to fidn out who //isn't// Sam C, just like you crossed my name out. I say in the next session we convince douchebag to let us pair with different people, tell him this exercise was so good we want to continue. There are five other club members. If we pair with two of them next week and they arent Sam C, we'll pair with the other two the other week, and if we still havent found Sam, the last one is." "It could be dangerous," you say. "If Sam is not on the run, but is the same person lookign for information, we could be walkign into the lion's den." "I know. Exciting, isn't it?" "Definitely." [[backtocel5]]

Celeste brings her phone out again and opens the recording app, She holds the phone up. "Celeste and..." "$name." "Still here together. Bye-bye." She stops recording. "What a retarded exercise." She's looking at you again. With that look. That look you cant quite decipher. Fuck it. You lean in. [[kisscel]]

She watches you come and doesn't protest. She closes her eyes when your lips touch, and then you're kissing, softly, as if you have all the time in the world to kiss. The world will wait for you as you enjoy her lips on yours. She's responds gently. Gradually, she falls back into the arm of the sofa. You fall on top of her between her spread legs. Then she puts a hand on your chest and pushes slighlty. You break the kiss, lookign into those beautiful eyes. "Get off," she says. [[kisscell2]]

You sit back onthe sofa. She stands. "Don't do that again," she says. "Why? You kissed me back." "Just dont do it again." "Okay." She walks away. Yes, she's crazy, Henry. She will drive me insane. [[endcel]]

After you can Celeste record your last message, you leave her. Your relationship with her had been soured after the kiss and you had hardly spoken until she came out of her bedroom to record the last message. Then you bid your goodnight at 7pm. [[driveback]]

You don't go straight to your apartment. You loop around the city several times to make sure no one is followign you. To make sure Sam isnt following you. One or two times paranioa gets the best of you and you're sure the car behidn you has been tailing you, but then it veers off in another direction. Satisfied, you finally head home. [[driveback1]]

You'd have liked to dream of Celeste, maybe a version of your kiss where you had gone much further and she hadnt stopped you, but all that you dream about is a mysterious figure that Henry described. They're wearing a black hat and black long coat and black boots, black gloves. It's night and they're standing under the glow of an orange streetlight on a quiet, empty street. There are no houses around. Ntohign for miles but pure darkness. You can't see the figure's face, only a shadow under the hat. "Sam?" You say. The figure looks up, and when it speaks, the voice is distorted, like static on radio. Like glass on metal. A screech that somehow has words in it. //"I know you're coming, $name."//