You’re Going to Die VI

If you’re just tuning in, our goal is to write our own Choose Your Own Adventure where every choice is twofold, with one leading to further adventure and the other to a gruesome death. Here were our choices from last week:

Oh, you’re going to tell daddy over my dead body! You spring into action, grabbing a handful of those cheap office pens, just in case you need to throw stuff at him. You begin to notice your age as you pant towards the brat, but you’ll be damned if that stops you! You whip a pen at him, missing completely (unless you were actually aiming at Sue with the lazy eye from accounting, but you know you weren’t).

He looks back to see if that was you, makes an obscene gesture, and picks up the pace. If you don’t do something soon, you’ll have to listen to your boss lecture you for 15 minutes about conducting yourself in the office! 15 friggin minutes!!! You take every pen in hand, and throw them with all your might. Nailed him!

He turns around again, probably to make some stupid remark, when he runs right past his dad’s office, and down a stairwell. You hear him make a large amount of shrieks and shrills, as any annoying child is prone to do when they’re making a big deal out of some broken bones. Oh wait, this is bad! Now he’s going to tell his dad you made him fall! Unless he broke his mouth. Can you break a mouth? You’re not sure, but you bet that kid just found out.

Do you:
A – Check on the poor boy with the possibly broken mouth?
B – Beat him to his dad, and make up a story about him screwing around?

Such unchecked violence! At this rate we could be on cable. We had some great entries, seriously well written. I loved the Zombie approach from borntobealoser, but since we did such an adventure with “Zombocalypse Now”, I thought we should try something different. Thus, we’re going with logosgal’s!

B – Beat him to his dad, and make up a story about him screwing around?
What luck! If you hurry, you can get to the boss before he even has a chance to notice the little brat’s shrieking! Without a second thought, you race to your boss’s doorway. You pause in the hallway to straighten your shirt and roll your eyes at the boss’s choice of music for the day—some sort of weird new-agey rhythmic clicking accompanied by random hisses and moans that would be sickeningly creepy if you hadn’t heard some of the other crazy stuff the boss likes. You also notice that one of the pens you threw somehow managed to stick itself into the corkboard right above the safety memo from last week about not having projectiles in the office. You smirk at the irony as you dislodge the writing implement and tuck it into your shirt pocket. Do you look professional now, or what? The boss is sure to believe such a suave, sexy, on-the-ball specimen of professionalism over his own flesh and blood, right? You take one deep breath and step inside the office.

“Hey, boss, you won’t believe what that kid of yours—”

The boss isn’t at his desk.

“Boss?”

Puzzled, you look around. You could have sworn he hasn’t left his office since that dumb staff meeting earlier, but he’s not at his desk, not at the window, not in the other chair, and generally not anywhere you would expect him to be if he were in his office. In fact, you don’t see him at all.

You’re about to turn around and leave when you notice that annoying creepy music again, getting louder and more agitated. It doesn’t seem to be coming from his computer, or from the radio on his desk, or from the cassette player next to his desk (who still has a cassette player these days, anyway? you wonder). Maybe that’s not music, after all?

You barely have time to come to this conclusion before you are proven right. With a thud, your boss’s head hits the floor next to the desk and rolls toward you. You see that his mouth is choked with foam and his complexion looks slightly greenish. Also the head isn’t attached to anything.

You hear a stream of shouted obscenities and realize they’re coming from you. You start to back out the door, but before you can take a step, a giant bug-thing rises from behind the desk, mandibles and scythe-like limbs dripping with blood and bits of the boss’s navy-blue designer suit. Shock roots you to the spot as it lunges towards you, and the last thing you feel is the cold, chitinous blade of the creature’s front leg as it slices through your neck.

You are dead.

A – Check on the poor boy with the possibly broken mouth?

That’s what an innocent person would do in this situation, right? Plus, if it isn’t broken now, maybe you can find a way to rectify that before he has a chance to talk! You follow the boy’s path past his father’s office and to the top of the stairwell.

It is immediately apparent from the renewed shrieks and obscenities that come as soon as you are in sight that the kid’s mouth is not broken. In fact, he’s probably not very hurt at all; this stairwell is weird and the first flight only has like three steps.

You walk towards little Jimmy, hoping maybe the sight of your intimidating figure advancing towards him will shut him up for a few moments while you think of another plan of action. No such luck; if anything the shrieking just gets worse. How does such a little kid know that many swear words? you wonder for a moment, but then you remember who his father is.

When you get within reach of the kid, you grab him by the arm and pull him to his feet.

“Shut up, kid! Save it for when you’re actually hurt!” you say as he struggles against your grip. You note with satisfaction that even if you couldn’t keep up with the youngster when running, you’re still much stronger than he is.

He squirms and shrieks for a moment, but then he quiets down. His eyes grow big like he’s terrified of something, and a smaller, more genuine-sounding moan escapes from his lips.

“Behind you,” he whispers.

“Yeah, right,” you laugh, “as if I’d fall for that one!”

Jimmy wordlessly pulls against your grip again, this time with such sudden vigor that he at least succeeds in pulling you towards the other end of the landing.

“Holy—”

Your oath dies on your lips as you glance up and see what Jimmy was so scared of. Standing at the top of the stairwell is a gigantic bug-thing! Its silhouette fills the doorframe as it stands on two hind legs and waves four arms that end in scythe-like claws in the air. Its shiny black body is spattered in blood—you guess that of your poor dear officemates, given the shreds of cloth that are also sticking to it here and there. It kind of reminds you like a horrible, bipedal cockroach.

You stand there gaping at the impossible creature before you, and would probably continue to do so until the thing gobbled you up with those huge blood-soaked jaws, but as you think you catch a glimpse of another two or three similar creatures coming down the hall, something pulls at you.

Jimmy has now gathered his wits about him enough to have the sense to make for the exit. Since you haven’t thought to let go, the viselike grip you have on his arm is pulling you along, too. Jimmy reaches the other end of the landing, and you shake yourself into awareness just in time to consciously think about not tripping as you dash down the stairs. You can hear the creature behind you, clicking and hissing like that weird music that was coming from the boss’s office when you were chasing Jimmy earlier. It occurs to you as Jimmy leads you down another flight of stairs that the weird music may not have been music after all…

At least I don’t have to worry about being lectured for fifteen minutes! you think.

Down another flight of stairs, and another, and another, you go, never letting go of Jimmy’s arm, always with the clicking and hissing bug-thing right behind. But all too soon, you find yourselves out of stairs! You only work on the third floor, after all.

With nowhere else to go, you shove the door to the lower level open, and you and Jimmy rush inside. Jimmy finds the knob that locks the door from this side, and you hear the beautiful melody of the tumblers sliding into place just half a second before you hear the thunk of the bug-thing running into the door.

Panting for breath, you lead Jimmy down the hall. Nobody works in the basement; it’s just a dimly-lit storage area for janitors’ supplies and extra office stuff. The other stairwell is always locked and the elevator needs a key to get down here, so you should be relatively safe here. But just in case, you take Jimmy into one of the storage rooms, lock the door behind you, then plop down on an abandoned office chair, finally letting go of Jimmy’s arm.

“Now what?” Jimmy asks, rubbing the developing bruise shaped like your thumb.

Now what, indeed…

A – Stay here. With the boss’s bratty kid. Hey, it’s better than getting eaten by one of those things!
B – Go exploring. You may be able to find something to defend yourself with, and, hey, if the kid “accidentally” crosses paths with the monsters, extra bonus!

Now it’s your turn! Write up the results of Choice A (“Stay here”) and Choice B (“Go exploring”), with one ending in death and the other presenting us with two options from which to choose.

This is so much fun!

About Jeff Hebert

Jeff is a 45 year old city boy who has somehow found himself located in Colorado, fulfilling his lifetime dream of making a living drawing super-heroes all day.

8 Responses to You’re Going to Die VI

  1. Stay here
    You sink into the uncomfortable chair and take a few deep breaths. Like hell you’re going out there again!
    “We’re staying… right here!” you pant.
    There’s no argument from Jimmy. After a moment’s rest, he begins to explore the storage area. It’s a fairly large room filled with metal shelving units, boxes, and dust. You let him wander off, knowing there’s not much down here for him to get into.
    After a time he calls out.
    “Hey, uh… mister?”
    “Yeah?” you reply.
    “I, uh, need you to come look at this…”
    You groan, but stand up and begin walking towards where you think he is anyway. Probably he’s uncovered the janitor’s pile of magazines and, you groan again, you’ll have to explain a few things to him. This is not a prospect you look forward to, and you try to plan out a few things to say that will hopefully satisfy the kid without actually telling him anything. That, after all, is your boss’ job… oh, right.
    You find little Jimmy standing some ways off, with a table laden with girly magazines just to his left. You take a deep breath.
    “Okay,” you begin, “the first thing you need to know is that janitors are lonely, lonely men…
    “What?” Jimmy asks, looking back at you, “No! What’s the janitor got to do with any of this, you idiot? I mean that thing!”
    You gratefully look away from the table, which you have occasionally pillaged from over the two years you’ve been here, and turn your gaze to what the brat actually meant. It’s not what you wanted to see. It looks like your classic egg sac. You’ve seen “Arachnophobia”, so you know this.
    Against your growing fear and panic, two options present themselves. Do you,
    Destroy the nest, thus preventing the next generation of evil bugs from infesting the world and possibly get you a medal, or
    Flee! Flee Now!

    Go Exploring
    Dredging up all your survival knowledge, mostly consisting of whatever you’ve seen on the big screen (Hollywood wouldn’t lie to you, now would it?), you figure it’s best not to stay here and let yourself be cornered. And besides, it’s not like you can defend yourself with the trappings of a storage closet. It’ll take more than a rolled up magazine from the janitor’s pile to take out those creepy crawlies you saw upstairs. The rest of the basement however is known to have plumbing parts, old bits of rebar, and lots of toolkits, aka blunt instruments. That sounds just the treat to smash you some bugs. You stand up decisively and head for the door.
    “Where are you going? Can I come too?” a shrill voice asks. You wince.
    “No!” you declare, “You stay here.”
    “Nuh-uh!” Jimmy whines, “You can’t leave me alone!”
    “Watch me.” Not the best comeback you’ve ever had, but you’re not about to let the bratling slow you down. You pull on the door. Then you pull again. And a third time, but the door still doesn’t give. A quick inspection of the knob reveals that it locks automatically upon closing, and the keyhole is on the outside. Great.
    “Ha!” Jimmy laughs, putting his thumb on his nose and waggling his fingers at you.
    Angrily you turn on the obnoxious waste of space, but before you can comment on how he’s trapped in here too you become aware of a rustling sound. Hundreds, thousands, of little versions of the monsters you saw upstairs are crawling out of the accumulated junk in the closet. Both you and Jimmy begin frantically pulling at the door, but to no avail. Your office adventure ends in the bellies of the young monster roaches.

  2. Stay Here: You decide That this room should be safe enough, as long as Jimmy keeps his big trap shut. “Hey, kid” you whisper to him, “stay real quiet and we’ll be fine, okay?” Jimmy looks at you for a moment, then immediately starts bawling his eyes out. You faintly hear a chittering sound outside, moving closer and closer to you and the crying boy. Thinking quickly, you grab a turned over chair from the corner and wedge it under the door handle. There, that’ll keep the creepy-crawlie out! You turn back to Jimmy, smile and say “See, we’re fine, there’s no way that thing’s getting in here!” Just as Jimmy starts to smile back, you hear an ear-splitting shattering sound, as the large glass window that makes up the top third of the door explodes inward. You’re showered with glass, and knocked to the ground. As the scuttling mostrosity squeezes it’s way through the hole you realize: Your Office Adventure Ends Here…

    Go Exploring: “Now what?” you repeat back at Jimmy, “Now you stay here and be reeeaaal quiet while I go look for help.” You quickly unlock the door, open it, slip out, and close it behind you before the shocked expression even leaves his face. You quickly but quietly make your way down the hall. If you remember right, there’s a stairway leading to an emergency exit around the corner. Just after you round the bend, you hear Jimmy start to cry loudly. Man that kid has a set of lungs! Over the bawling, you can just make out the sound of something with a lot of feet heading towards your former hiding place. As you try to get the image of a giant cockroach eating a small child out of you mind, there’s a huge crash, and Jimmy’s cries turn to screams. You peek back around the corner, and see the monsterous insectoid has apparently gotten itself stuck trying to climb through the window in the door. You also see that there’s a fire axe attached to the wall opposite the door. You realize you have two choices. Do You :
    Go back and use the axe to try to kill the monster before it eats little Jimmy
    –or–
    Decide the little brat has caused you enough trouble for today, and continue to the exit while the monster is distracted

  3. borntobealoser

    A: Stay here:

    Fighting has never been your thing, and you’re pretty sure that that’s what it would come to if you left the saftey of the storage room. You peer out of the window in the door, to try and see if those big bugs have broken through. So far, so good. Maybe they’ll forget about you in an hour or so, and go back upstairs. Then you and the brat can explore and figure out your next course of action, preferrably one that involves cutting your losses and leaving him behind. It’s at this point that you hear a thud from behind you and turn to find out what it was. “Hey Jimmy, you dropped your… head?” Jimmy doesn’t seem to mind though, he’s still happily squriming all over the place. Kids, they can’t stop fidgeting, they’re always bored, even during apocalypses. Oh, no wait, this is bad. As if to help you put any doubts to rest that this situation is, in fact, bad, Jimmy starts to sprout several chitinous legs from his neck. You realise that you should probably hightail it out of here, but morbid fascination takes over, and you’re unable to move your limbs. Now most of the giant insect has managed to wriggle it’s way out of it’s host, and it is now focusing it’s attention on you. You can’t help but be impressed by what’s going on in front of you. Props to the kid, he had this critter inside of him, and he didn’t even look bloated. Unfortunately for you, the roach is not as impressed as you are, and uses you as it’s first meal. Your adventure, and your life, end here.

    B: Go exploring:

    You almost never get to come down here! You’re not passing up the opportunity to have a nose around, there’s loads of cool stuff lying all over the place. Like that fire axe, for example. Sadly, the brat gets to it before you, and you have to resort to using a rolled up newspaper as a weapon. “Seriously?” Jimmy asks. “What? It works on the flies at home.” You look around. The only option you have is to try and get in to that locked stairwell. But the padlock is pretty hefty, and the key is nowhere to be found. Suddenly, a loud crash can be heard from the other side of the basement. The creepy crawlies have broken through! You’re running out of time, you need a distraction. “Jimmy, quick, pass me the axe!” After giving you the fire axe, he looks at the padlock expectantly. “Well, what are you waiting for? They’re almost here!” You look down at him and sigh. It’s best he doesn’t know. You grab him and swing him flying in the direction of the bugs, stopping them dead in their tracks. They’ve got what they wanted. A twinge of guilt tugs at your heart: he was relying on you, and you let him down. Meh. You’ve never been a kid person. With the extra time that Jimmy’s noble sacrifice bought, you’re able to break the padlock with the fire axe, and are bursting up the staircase before the roaches can even finish their meal. In the main foyer, you can see that chaos has taken over the street outside. Still, you have to make a break for safety, you can’t stay in Critter Central. As you reach the front door, you remember that you’ve left your keys in the office. It seems that nothing is going your way today.

    Do you:

    A: Head back up to the office and collect your keys

    OR

    B: Take your chances on foot

  4. A. “Now we be VERY quiet while we figure out what to do.” The last thing you need is noise. You stare around the storage room. The kid lasts all of ten seconds.
    “Is this what they mean by a hostile takeover?”
    Any other time that might almost be funny. You grunt, shaking your head.
    “Well my dad SAID the company upstairs was threatening him.”
    OMG. “With giant bugs?”
    Jimmy apparently doesn’t get sarcasm. “I HEARD the man say he’d eat our company for breakfast.” HHHHH! “Dad said he sent Sven up to talk to them last night.”
    Aha! “Your dad wouldn’t send Sven to talk to them. He isn’t like a corporate negotiator or anything. Sven is always in trouble.” Well, that IS why you put up with him. He makes you look good by comparison.
    “Dad said he sent Sven up there BECAUSE he was in trouble. Something about getting a tattoo. He said Sven was an idiot and wouldn’t talk much. Just listen to them and waste their time.”
    Hmmm. Sven wasn’t in today. He has the cube nearest yours . . . no, wait. “No, Jimmy; this building wouldn’t put two competitors right next to each other–”
    Jimmy looks at you funny. “They’re NOT competitors. They sell beef jerky, fingernail clippers, and green toner. They want more warehouse space.” Great. Giant bugs are eating people, and Jimmy wants to blame some company? Wait–
    “Green toner?”
    “Yeah.”
    “Why would anyone make copies green?”
    Jimmy looks at you funny AGAIN. That kid–”No. Environmentally friendly toner. Not the COLOR green. Sheesh.”
    A really stupid idea comes to your mind. Those three products sold by one company? They have nothing to do with each other. Maybe the company upstairs IS responsible for the bug-men somehow. There’s a old copier down here near the far wall that doesn’t work very well. The company, if it wants more space, would surely have their space down here packed full. At the very least, proving Jimmy wrong about SOMETHING would kill some time . . . Do you:
    A. Go to find some of their stuff to rummage through?
    Or
    B. See if you can get the old copier started–at least you could get back to throwing paper if you can’t find any of this ‘green’ toner!

    B. Waiting around might be easy, but bugs are supposed to be really strong, right? Bench press a bulldozer? That phrase sounds like something you read once a long time ago. Busting in here probably wouldn’t be so hard for them. “What next,” you repeat. This shouldn’t be so hard. Fighting bugs gives people, like, adrenalin in the movies. With a sigh, you stand up. Jimmy looks at you expectantly, still rubbing his bruise. You peek out. All quiet. “I’m going to go get some things right outside. I’ll be right back. Stay quiet. Stay here.” He looks gullible enough to wait for you. You go out and shut the door. Peering around, you see an old copier, a fire ax, janitor’s cart, multiple storage rooms . . . that one is absolutely FULL. Opening it, you see it packed floor to ceiling with long white boxes, short white boxes, and big brown boxes. Such a surplus must be of worthless stuff. You shut the door. You find a broken mop handle that should be light enough for Jimmy to use as a spear when you have him in front of you to leave. You find dusty file cabinets. You find three entire trash bins full of — smashed toner cartridges? Someone must be more bored with their jobs than you are. Those are EXPENSIVE. You are idly wondering if they got fired when you realize your mistake. You left Jimmy alone too long. Jimmy has opened the door he was hiding behind and is heading for the fire ax. You start back toward him. You know you’ll take it from him. Jimmy reaches up and pulls the fire ax right out. WHAH-WHAH-WHAH-WHAH-
    The fire alarm was wired to that? You are beginning to wonder whether the sprinklers will come on when you realize WHY you are in trouble. The fire alarm automatically unlocks everywhere people could be trapped–
    Both doors to the basement fly open. A bug-man comes through each one. Jimmy screams, retreats into the storage room and slams the door. You raise your makeshift spear to have it batted from your hands. The first bug-man cringes away from your toner-stained hands.
    The second one, from behind you, puts a razor-sharp appendage right through your neck. You die watching the first bug-man’s limbs smoke from the toner it touched on your hands. Thus your adventure ends.

  5. Love the illustration!

  6. Is the day for this still Thursday?

  7. Herr D:
    Is the day for this still Thursday?

    My bad, HerrD, apologies — real life got the drop on me. I’ll be updating in a bit.