Darkness Within

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The back of your mother's striped shirt is all you see as she walks away, the image quickly becoming increasingly distorted as the hallway gets filled with figures ranging from parents to children, and siblings. She had left you with a parting kiss and a little ‘have a good day, my sweet little <<listbox "$gender" autoselect>> <<option "boy">> <<option "girl">> <<option "child">><</listbox>>’ You tilt your head slightly, trying to get a better angle before she gets engulfed by the chaotic stream of bustling activity. The air was charged with excitement and nervous energy. The vibrant chatter, laughter, and the occasional squeak of sneakers on the polished floor echo through the corridor. The only thing you can do is stand, eyes gently swaying between the open door leading into your third-grade classroom and the gaping hole where your closest confidant used to be. It was the day after a two-week break, and you weren’t exactly the happiest child to be returning there. Your mother had received news that Marica, one of the girls whom you could consider a friend, had started her process of awakening shortly after vacation started. Normally, this wouldn’t be a problem, but you and Marica had been the only powerless students in your class of 12. This made you a prime target, you were the odd one out now, and it wasn’t unusual for people to awaken later in life, but this school was designed for students who would sprout at young ages. It was a school designed to cultivate. One designed for not you. You were clueless and partially afraid, your parents never gave you any help and simply waved it off as something that would take time to flourish and that you shouldn’t put too much pressure on yourself. It was hard to flourish when there seemed to be a team of eight-year-olds who were ready to light their pitchforks on fire every time they caught sight of you. Which was every school day, by the way, they sat next to you. “Hey! Why don’t you come take a seat dear” ---- <center><span class="next"><<button "Continue" "prologuept2">><</button>></span></center>

Darkness Within

Bio Writes

Made in SugarCube 2.34.1.

---- <center> COMING NEXT UPDATE </center>

<<link "Character" "Character">><</link>> <<link "Codex" "Codex">><</link>> <<link "Credits" "Credits">><</link>> <<link "Back">><<if tags().includes("game-info")>><<goto $return>><<else>><<run Engine.backward()>><</if>><</link>>

<<script>> var passages = document.getElementById("passages"); passages.scrollTop = 0; <</script>>  <<if tags().includes("title")>> <<elseif tags().includes("credits")>><h1>Credits</h1> <<elseif tags().includes("character")>> <h1>Character</h1> <<elseif tags().includes("codex")>> <h1>Codex</h1> <<else>><h1>$chapter</h1> <</if>>

<<set $chapter to "Prologue">> <<set $composure to 50>> <<set $obliviousObservant to 50>> <<set $daringCautious to 50>> <<set $honestyDeceit to 50>> <<set $optimPessi to 50>> <<set $stubbornReasonable to 50>> <<set $genuineSarcastic to 50>> <<set $sensitiveUnbothered to 50>> <<set $violentPac to 50>> <<set $powercontrol to 0>>

The voice of Mrs. Rajni spreads out from inside the classroom, her welcoming tone encompassing you in hopes of urging you forward into the very environment you tried your best to avoid. Your parents caught on quick to whatever games you tried to play, whether it be faking sickness, an injury, and at most just begging to skip the day. It rarely worked, but they tried their best to give you the benefit of the doubt and just say all your anxiety was a symptom of an awakening to come. You couldn’t see any sign of progress, no matter how many times you searched for a scale, a feather, an extra eye, literally anything underneath the blurring sun you could think of. It never happened, nothing ever broke through your <<listbox "$skincolor" autoselect>> <<option "porcelain">> <<option "ivory">> <<option "sand">> <<option "beige">> <<option "olive">> <<option "sienna">> <<option "almond">> <<option "umber">> <<option "bronze">> <<option "espresso">> <<option "chocolate">> <</listbox>> skin. No matter how hard you screamed, cried, threw things against the wall, or slightly prayed in a dark corner of your decorated room. It. Never. Happened. It wouldn’t have bothered you as much as it was if it wasn’t for the surrounding classmates you were beginning to walk towards. The fear of not fitting in was enough to get your eight-year old brain spinning. Your feet were stuttering against the carpet, creased shoes begging not to get caught up on the edges of the circled mat, lest you embarrass yourself in front of the grinning fangs of your awaiting tablemate. ---- <center><span class="next"><<button "Continue" "prologuept3">><</button>></span></center>

<ul> <li>Banner assets <a href="https://www.canva.com/">Canva</a></li> <li>Fonts <a href="https://fonts.google.com/">Google fonts</a></li> </ul>

---- <center> COMING NEXT UPDATE </center>

ORANGE: Game info - character page, codex, credits. Populate these with what you like. GREEN: UI & game set-up elements. These can be edited to suit your needs. RED: Code. Everything in these passages should be labelled; things might break if you mess with them.

An interactive fiction game.

<style> #ui-bar {display:none;} #passages {width:100vw;margin:0;background-image:var(--banner-top),var(--banner-bottom);background-repeat:no-repeat;background-size:50%;background-position:top center, bottom center;overflow:hidden;scrollbar-width:none;font-family:var(--header-font);transition:0s;padding:0;} ::-webkit-scrollbar {width:0px;} .passage {text-align:center;transition:0s;} #passages a:before {content: none;} #story {margin-left:0;} h1 {text-align:center;margin-top:25vh;} @media screen and (max-width: 800px) {#story {margin:0;}} </style> <h1>Darkness Within</h1> <<if Save.autosave.ok() and Save.autosave.has()>><<link "Resume Game">><<script>>Save.autosave.load()<</script>><</link>> | <</if>><<link "New Game" "1">><</link>> | <<link "Load Game">><<run UI.saves()>><</link>> | <<link "Settings">><<run UI.settings()>><</link>>

<<if $gender is "boy">><h3>Masculine Names</h3> * Aayan * Eugene * Lachlan * Jan * Joe * Kieron * Malachy * Roger * Stephen * Tyler <<elseif $gender is "girl">><h3>Feminine Names</h3> * Alfie * Alison * Alivia * Cian * Fiona * Lucilla * Lula * Robin * Virginia * Zaynab <<else>><h3>Gender-Neutral Names</h3> * Bailey * Carter * Cordelia * Dylan * Felix * Jorge * Kasey * Nicola * Sian * Ty<</if>>

<<link "choice text" "2">><<set $chapter to "Chapter One">><</link>> <<link "choice text" "2">><<set $chapter to "Chapter One">><</link>> <<link "choice text" "2">><<set $chapter to "Chapter One">><</link>> <<link "choice text" "2">><<set $chapter to "Chapter One">><</link>>

It didn't work, for the most part, your silent prayers seeming to fall hopelessly amongst deaf ears. The many gods that existed in the plane of this world turned their backs on you, shielding themselves from the doom of your anxious joints. Regardless of what belief you shoved into the hands of an immortal, a childish hope that rested in your heart told you that somehow, every religion would be standing behind your back ready to catch the sorrows of your mind. Instead, it appeared that they’d be standing at your back to push you forward. Poseidon leaning down to tie your stained laces together, Gná’s gloved blue hands finding purchase on the velvet rug, and Anubis shoving you down. The colorful circles came crashing into focus and your nose smashed onto the floor, blood immediately squirting from the broken ridges of your bone. Your arms screamed with fury, rashes tearing apart the skin protecting your muscles. Expect it never happened, Poseidon wasn’t here, Gná was never fading into the floor, and Anubis wasn’t laughing in the background. You weren’t cradling the arms burned with rug rash, you never broke a bone, and you were never tripping over the carpet. The world was churning, it was blurry, and instead, you were beginning to feel the effects of hyperventilating and differing students silently noticing you standing rigidly on their favored rug. But they weren’t silent, no they were laughing, pointing, you were crying. Were you actually crying? The tears running freely from your <<listbox "$eyecolor" autoselect>> <<option "blue">> <<option "green">> <<option "black">> <<option "brown">> <<option "hazel">> <<option "grey">> <</listbox>> eyes were ricocheting off the hood of your shoes and slamming back into your chin. And they were laughing. No they weren’t. Yes they were. And the big, black, grins circling around you told you so, echoing words of phony names slithering into your ears. Expect none of it was real, and you were imagining it, but you felt like you weren’t, and you swear the world stopped for a minute because all you knew was that they were laughing until they weren’t and you were crying until you stopped and now you don’t know exactly what was real and what was fake and how you suddenly got to the topic of religion in the first place. You just want your mom. ---- <h3>Choose Your Name</h3> <<if $gender is "boy">><<textbox "$name" "Einar">> <<elseif $gender is "girl">><<textbox "$name" "Marija">> <<else>><<textbox "$name" "River">><</if>> <<link 'View Suggestions'>><<script>>Dialog.setup("Name Suggestions"); Dialog.wiki(Story.get("Name Suggestions").processText()); Dialog.open();<</script>>><</link>> <center><span class="next"><<button "Continue" "prologuept4">><</button>></span></center>

“$name?” $name. $name. $name. It was the only thing repeating in your head as Mrs. Rajni stood in front of you. When did she get here? Her tanned hand tapped on your shoulder, the dazed look in your eyes was enough of a symptom to realize that you were somewhere, far, far away. But you weren’t, were you? You were right here, you were always here and nothing ever happened here. The surprise etched across her golden gaze as you suddenly snapped back into focus aided in the chills that threatened to overtake her fingers. She was always acting weird like this, like you were something to be afraid of. Expect you weren’t, and you never would be because you were simply just human and everyone could beat a human with a snap of a finger. So you always regarded her with slight confusion, and the way she backed up led you to believe that one of the cambion students was behind you acting up and she just didn’t want to get caught in the crossfire of fireballs being thrown against the protected walls. “Go to your seat, $name. We’re about to start the lesson!” ---- <center><span class="next"><<button "Continue" "prologuept5">><</button>></span></center>

The sudden change in well-deserved concern to a guarded expression was enough to make you scrunch your eyebrows together. But you felt like this wouldn’t be the right time to ask, as her nails pointed towards your seat. Your face turned to meet the eyes of Oliver, his sharp canines slipping out of his mouth to rest against his lip. They were beginning to rub a rash raw on his face, it seemed he hadn’t grown into his wolf traits just yet. Your eyes slightly lowered, looking back to face Mrs. Rajni as she stared expectantly upon you. With a small sigh, you began your tremor over there. Your chest was heavy, your heart thudding against your ribcage in an attempt to break free and kill you right then and there. It seemed every part of you was tired of the constant mistreatment, the frenzy of what your mind had just gone through a mere few seconds ago still clung openly to your thoughts. “Oh, look who it is!” The small English accent slipped off his tongue, a teasing tone edging against his words. Isla, the water nymph sitting next to him, giggled. Her forever wet hair splattered on the frame of her face, and her previously darker skin had started to slowly grow a blue-ish hue. You slid into your raised seat, Oliver deciding to start up his act relatively early. Usually, he would’ve waited until recess or until class started so he could draw random objects on your paper or steal a pencil so you would’ve searched all over the floor in confusion. “The human” He continued on, his elbowing nudging into Isla until she would return her focus to the bullying that was beginning to ensue instead of trying to dry her desk down with a towel. Her eyes fluttered, switching between the pair of you before finally getting the idea of what he wanted her to do. “She looks so boring!” Always a follower, never a leader. Her attack had been offbeat, like she was confused about what she could even say that hadn’t already been blown out of proportion by the British sitting adjacent. She continued to her task, getting distracted as wet strings of black hair stuck to her cheek. “Right? Why are you even here? You’re so weak.” ---- *[[Start crying.|prologuept5.1][$sensitiveUnbothered +=4, $composure -=3]] *[[Attack him.|prologuept5.2][$violentPac +=5, $composure -=4, $daringCautious +=2]] *[[Say something back.|prologuept5.3][$composure -=2]] *[[Ignore him.|prologuept5.4][$violentPac -=2, $sensitiveUnbothered -=2, $composure +=3]]

Your eyes narrowed, eyebrows matching the intensity of the fury that radiated off of your shoulders. You hated this guy, this was beginning to really push you over that cliff he was constantly dangling you over. If he wanted a reaction, he was going to get one out of you. Usually, you respond back with something or simply ignore him, but today was different, it felt different. And as you launched out of your chair, knees hitting the top of your desk, you heard his scream of surprise and worry echo across the wide room. Everybody stopped what they were doing as his cries spread thin across your knuckles. You had somehow managed to tackle him out of his chair, straddling him as you rained hell upon the very devil that worshipped the negativity that you experienced in life. You could hear the teacher yelling at you to stop as she talked on the phone, seemingly calling security or help to get you off Oliver before you did serious damage. You were all either eight or nine, and with literally no training in combat, your hits weren’t life-threatening, but everyone had brittle bones and you were seeking to break something in compensation for all the shit he spewed against you. The begging coming from him was barely enough, but you noticed that he had frozen. Your hits were pushing into skin anymore like a soft pillow. No, it was more like a hard surface, and as you looked up and around you, chest heaving up and down, you realized the entire was paused. Just like Oliver. Worry creased your features, your heartbeat quickening to match the speed at which your brain was processing information. Why were you smelling smoke? ---- <center><span class="next"><<button "Continue" "chapter1">><</button>><<set $chapter to "Chapter 1">></span></center>

Your eyes narrowed, eyebrows matching the intensity of the fury that radiated off of your shoulders. You didn’t necessarily want to engage in a fight, you weren’t trained in combat at all. And who knows if his parents had started to teach him how to defend himself because of his new animalistic traits. But you knew what to say, and you knew what would her. Everybody had insecurities, regardless of whether they pretended to be the toughest kid on the block or not. “Yeah, well, at least I’m pure something! You’re barely a wolf!” And it stung, you could tell, the shock on his face was enough to satisfy whatever wild need had arisen in your blood. Oliver had been attacking the fact that you were perceived to be a human since the day he awakened, which had been super early into the school year. But your parents gave you lessons on the common types of hybrids, and werewolves were a special case. Everything depended on the lineage of each parent, it ranged from pure to practically extinct. It was visual, and Oliver happened to have only sharp canines and a very diluted golden color around his pupil. He had a wolf in his bloodline, but minimal, he was probably the last of his family that would ever show signs of it unless he happened to mate with another wolf. As you turned behind you at the sound of footsteps. The room paused, everybody frozen like a stone in their most recent pose. Worry creased your features, your heartbeat quickening to match the speed at which your brain was processing information. Why were you smelling smoke? ---- <center><span class="next"><<button "Continue" "chapter1">><</button>><<set $chapter to "Chapter 1">></span></center>

You rolled your eyes, he had reused that line countless of times. Despite being anxious about seeing him, you were expecting something new. Something new would’ve had the chance to push you over that edge that he so dearly wanted you to be at. Deciding to not give him an answer, you tried ignoring the berating that followed after. He was getting what he prayed against, bullying you made him feel good about myself. Made him feel less ashamed about his own bloodline. What’s less than someone with barely any hybrid changes? Someone with none. That was you. Mrs. Rajni was giving instructions on the work that you’d be going through today. You focused on that instead of the whispering that was directed at you. Eventually, he’d start throwing pencils at you and the only thing you would be able to do is either wait it out till he’s bored, tattle on him, or attack back. You geared towards more of a pacifist than most, so you just hoped it wouldn’t get to this point. You blinked, but when your eyes opened the room paused, everybody froze like a stone in their most recent pose. Worry creased your features, your heartbeat quickening to match the speed at which your brain was processing information. Why were you smelling smoke? ---- <center><span class="next"><<button "Continue" "chapter1">><</button>><<set $chapter to "Chapter 1">></span></center>

That seemed to be the last stressor you could mentally handle. The floodgates opened, tears spilling from your $eyecolor eyes. Noises traveled up your throat, breaking free in the form of strangled whines and breaths. This was real, you were actually crying, the hotness of your cheeks flushed into your ears and elbows. Embarrassment only seemed to propel the sadness forward. Oliver burst into laughter, the attention of the class now turning to focus on what the hell was happening at your table. Mrs. Rajni had been starting her instructions, collecting the math papers at her desk so she could teach everyone the more in-depth ways of understanding two-step equations. Sure, you were on the sensitive side, but you were also eight. You could only take so much before the dam broke, and it was today that you reached the limit. The teacher ran over, you couldn’t even hear anything anymore. All you were focused on was the snot that was rolling out of your nose and dangerously close to entering your mouth. Maybe she was yelling at Oliver, threatening to contact his parents if this continued, or maybe she was trying to shake you out of your head, the comforting words meant to console you were only flying over your head and crashing into the nearest wall. But the tears on your cheeks slowly turned to smoke and the hands rubbing at your closed eyes were beginning to feel a heat growing in from a distance. You paused, opening them only to see a grey smoke filtering in from the classroom. The room paused, everybody frozen like a stone in their most recent pose. Worry creased your features, your heartbeat quickening to match the speed at which your brain was processing information. Why were you smelling smoke? ---- <center><span class="next"><<button "Continue" "chapter1">><</button>><<set $chapter to "Chapter 1">></span></center>

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