1

The slight knocking of your rocking chair mixes seamlessly with the light chirping of a nearby swallow and the rustling of leaves in the forest. A perfect, blissful symphony. [(link: "Where am I?") [Your (link: "cabin") [dilapitated shack], surrounded by thick foliage on all sides, is almost as weathered as you and your canine companion. Despite its slight crookedness- you //swear// that south wall is leaning more to the left than ever before- you have called these four (link: "walls")["walls"] home, sweet [[home]], every summer for a few years now. While the bedroom and (link:"makeshift bathroom")[bucket in the corner] combo is far from five star, it functions well enough for a self-proclaimed "outdoorsman" like yourself. And, well, (link:"kitchen?") [what kitchen? The woods is your kitchen.]]] [[Continue.]]

You glance at your digital watch. It reads (text-color: red) [(text-style:"smear")[*3:45*]]. The time of your parents' passing. You rise from your chair, careful not to disturb $dogname as you do so. You slip quietly back into the [[cabin|secret info]] and gingerly pick up the boquet of (text-color: white) [(either: "sunflowers", "roses", "daisies", "daffodils", "petunias", "tulips")]- your mother's favorite flower. (if: $info)[She used to love it here.] (else:)[(link: "Where is she?")[You only come here to honor your (link: "parents.")[parents. They (text-color: red)[(text-style:"smear")[died]] in a car crash a few years back... (live: 1.5s) [While they were headed up here to the cabin.]]]] ----- (text-color: "green")[(text-style: "smear")[(text-color: "white")[Traditionally, you've left the flowers for your mother in the [[meadow]] nearby. It's a short walk, but it was one of her favorite spots to relax and create her art.]]] (text-color: #0C84B2)[(text-style: "smear")[(text-color: "white") [However, the [[lake|Lake]] seems to be calling you, in a way it hasn't for years. You long to visit it again, but is it what would best honor your mother?]]]

Honestly, it's good you don't have any (link: "lovely guests") [unwelcome freeloaders] running around these parts too often. You hate what happened here, but it's nice to have some peace and quiet. [Although your backyard view of the afternoon sky leaves more than a few things to be desired, the final rays peeking through the leaves and the slight nip in the autumn air has always brought you a deep comfort. That crisp-driven ache in your bones is as welcome as an old friend. (link: "Do I have any //real// friends?") [(set: $dogname to (prompt: "One. Go you! Your only trusted companion is a silver-faced golden retriever named:", "Rocky"))]] [[Continue.|Sounds lovely.]]

You used to come up to this cabin with your parents every single summer when you were younger. In fact, a few other families used to live close by- you never quite knew where their cabins were, but you kids used to meet at the [[lake]] and splash in the water. Sometimes, you miss the old days. No one really comes up here [[anymore]]. [[Go Back.|Cabin]]

The lake used to be a hubub for tourists and families back in the day. The water so crystalline blue and mysteriously warm captivated many. The beaches, with their perfect white grains of sand, invited sunbathers and sand castle builders alike. In your mind's eye, the lake tucked away deep in the forest was almost *too perfect*. Nothing was ever out of place. Well, except for (text-color:red)[(text-style: "smear")[(text-color: #0C84B2)[one time.]]] It's such a shame, what [[happened|anymore]] here.

You don't quite remember how it happened, it was so long ago. You were on the beach, digging a moat for your sand castle, when you heard a scream from out on the lake. Ricky Tallmadge, one of the (link: "older boys,")[older boys- he was nearly fourteen and the best swimmer at the lake-] was thrashing about on the water furiously. "(text-color:red)[(text-style: "smear")[(text-color: #0C84B2)[*It's got me!*]]]" He screamed, "(text-color:red)[(text-style: "smear")[(text-color: #0C84B2)[*I can't move, it's got me!*]]]" At first, you and the other two kids thought he was playing a trick on you. Ricky did that sometimes. In fact, the adults didn't believe him much either. That is, until he [[went under]].

They never quite figured out what happened to Ricky; when they found his body, nothing had seemed to hinder him from swimming back to shore. The only injuries on him were (text-color:red)[(text-style: "smear")[(text-color: #0C84B2)[three scratch marks]]] on his right leg... After the Ricky Incident, families stopped coming as often. You can't put your finger on why, but the lake never felt the same. You almost felt... Unwelcome. In fact, you only come to honor your (link: "parents.")[parents. They (text-color: red)[(text-style: "smear")[died]] in a car crash a few years back... (live: 1.5s) [While they were headed up here to the cabin.]] [[Go Back.|home]] (set: $info to true)

{(set: $name to "Bill") (set: $dogname to "Rocky") (set: $info to false) (set: $pendant to false) (set: $redeyes to false)}

The meadow is only a short walk away. You and your mother once discovered it by accident while exploring the area. She fell in love with the serene, warm quality of this secret spot. It inspired her to paint beautiful (link: "works of art.")[works of art. Two still hang in your tiny shack.] $dogname lumbers beside you as you trek through the thick foliage. Soon enough, you both find yourself in a small clearing. The various plant life bristles slightly in the wind, the familiar sound taking you back to days long ago. You enter the clearing, only slightly noticing how some of the grasses were smashed close to the earth by heavy footsteps before you. You head for your mother's painting rock, a large and flat rock deposited fairly close to the treeline on the opposite side of the meadow. You soon begin to realize, however, that the grass in front of you is //all// smashed down. At first, it looks like a path, but you notice (link: "footprints.") [footprints. Closer inspection reveals...[[hooves]]?]

The walk to the lake is a bit longer, and you're not quite sure where it is. You trek your way through rougher terrain than you remember, following the call within your heart. $dogname follows you, albeit hesitantly. Suddenly, the road forks. ----- Head [[left]] and hope you hit the lake. [[Right ]] is probably the way to the lake.

You pause a moment as you enter the cabin. The inside is mostly barren, aside from two of your mother's final paintings on the wall. A family photo, taken at this very cabin, rests against the base of the wall. A thick layer of dust nearly obscures the faces. The table where the flowers lay is a bit cluttered with odds and ends. What sticks out most to the average viewer is a golden pendant carefully coiled near the center of the furniture piece. From the dainty chain is a pendant in the shape of a dog- $dogname, to be precise. It belonged to your mother. $dogname was truly her dog after all. Pick Up the Pendant. (click-replace: "Pick Up the Pendant.")[(set: $pendant to true)You slip the pendant into your pocket, a token of your family.] [[Go Back.|Sounds lovely.]]

You turn over the piece of paper and feel the hairs on the back of your neck rise. It's a photograph. An old one. The cold, almost lifeless, eyes of Ricky Tallmadge seem to bore right into your soul. His innocent school photo, decades old now, has an air of malevolence to it. Could that really be Ricky? You were //just// thinking about him. What in the world is such an old thing doing out here anyway? ----- (live: 5.3s) [//Snap!//] (live: 5.5s) [Something large disturbs a twig behind you, back from where you came. $dogname whips around and lets out a low growl. You're not alone.] (live: 7s)[You look around, but don't see anything- no animals, humans, or otherwise. Yet, the way $dogname's hair is bristling makes you nervous... ----- You could [[investigate the noise]], just in case whatever is around might be easily spotted. If they're close by and left such a strange photograph, maybe they want to be found. You could [[call out]] to whoever may be out here with you. Maybe they have answers. You also consider that you could [[head back]], quickly, to the cabin and call it a night. This is weird. Weird old photographs of dead kids don't just //randomly// appear. Nope.]

But //how// could your mother's pendant be here on this rock? There was one back at the cabin just like it, you're sure of it. (live: 1.3s) [//Snap!//] (live: 1.5s) [Something large disturbs a twig behind you, back from where you came. $dogname whips around and lets out a low growl. You're not alone.] (live: 2s)[You look around, but don't see anything- no animals, humans, or otherwise. Yet, the way $dogname's hair is bristling makes you nervous...] ----- You could [[investigate the noise]], just in case whatever is around might be easily spotted. If they're close by and left your mother's necklace, maybe they want to be found. You could [[call out]] to whoever may be out here with you. Maybe they have answers about your mother's necklace... You also consider that you could [[head back]], quickly, to the cabin and call it a night. This is weird, and you worry somebody malicious is out here with you. How //did// that pendant get out here?

Must've been deer. (if: $pendant is true)[The tracks disappear at the base of the rock. You reach out to touch its smooth, cool surface as you pay your respects. Something catches your eye to your left, and you find a [[slip of paper]].] (else:) [The tracks disappear at the base of the rock. You reach out to touch its smooth, cool surface as you pay your respects. A glint of something on your left suddenly catches your eye. You turn to investigate. It's a pendant. From the thin chain hangs the silhouette of a dog. $dogname. Your mother's dog. This is [[her pendant]].]

You change your path slightly, towards the area where the sound came from. You step off the path and into the thick underbrush. As you shove the underbrush aside, you notice $dogname trailing behind you, unwilling to follow. ----- You [[whistle]] in an attempt to convince your canine companion to stay close behind. You allow $dogname to [[stay behind]] a bit, not risking putting a strain on their old joints. It's tough walking in here anyway, and for what?

"Hey," you call out, "who's there?" (live: 1.2s) [No response. The atmosphere itself has grown oddly quiet. Even the songbirds have stopped their tunes. To you, the silence almost seems deafening.] (live: 3s) [They're waiting too.] ----- "Okay, definitely time to [[head back]] before this day gets any weirder." "There is something very wrong here, and I'm going to [[get to the bottom|investigate the noise]] of this." (set: $redeyes to true)

Something is behind you. As you walk, you feel that both you and $dogname are on edge. $dogname's fur is bristled, teeth slightly bared but no sound escaping. $dogname is listening too. Someone- or some//thing// is definitely behind you. Well, maybe. ----- "It's just my imagination. I'm [[tired]] and thinking of the past is all." "There's something [[off]] about this place."

You try to relax as you make the hike back home. You walk at a slower pace, trying to enjoy the (link: "nature around you")[unsettling silence, as even the birds have stopped their songs]. (live: 5s)[The dying scream of a rabbit fills the air. "Oh, //fuck// nope. That's it." You and $dogname sprint the remaining distance to the [[cabin|endofday]].

You pick up the pace and try not to worry about the pinpricks you feel on the back of your neck. By the time you reach the shack, you and $dogname are practically running. You lock the door behind you triumphantly, slumping against it as you catch your breath for a moment. Soon enough, you're feeling a bit [[better|endofday]].

Reluctantly, $dogname follows you into the underbrush. You both struggle through the underbrush, the terrain unforgiving to you both. Unfortunately, it becomes too much and you're unable to move farther inwards. You sigh in defeat, knowing that there is something in these woods. You both turn around and [[head back]].

You continue on until $dogname is out of sight. You hope your old pal will stay put, just in case something //really is// out here. You walk without a word escaping your lips, leaves and twigs bowing at the mercy of your tread. Ripping branches away and stepping through this rather dense foliage is difficult work, and you're glad $dogname didn't try to venture in here with (link:"you.")[you. The terrain is becoming denser and unbearable and you haven't seen the slightest hint of another person in these parts. That noise might've been just a deer for all you know.] (set: $redeyes to true) ----- It's time to [[return]] to $dogname and go home. There's nothing here. There's definitely [[something]] here, and you know it. Continue forward.

You struggle your way back to the path from which you came. You originally thought your trek lasted mere minutes, however your watch suggests you were lost in the foliage for close to an hour! $dogname is nowhere to be found. (set: $whistle to 0) (link-repeat: "Whistle.")[(set: $whistle to $whistle +1)] [[Give up]] and hope your companion has already headed back to the shack.

You continue to fight your way through the thick vegitation, determination (link: "feuling you") [clouding your judgement]. After a few moments... (set: $deathsetup1 to 1) (live: 3s)[//Crack!// This time, to your right- and almost right on top of you. You instinctively jump and whip your head towards the sound of the [[noise]].]

The black mass was watching you from the treetops, its spindly fingers wrapped around the branches as they swayed in the breeze. You look up in shock and let out a pathetic scream, but it is far too late for you. The creature is on top of you in a moment, giving its own animalistic roar. You hardly have time to register the cold, metallic hardness of its skin or the sharpness of its claws against your throat before it all [[ends|end1]].

(link:" Look left.")[Nothing. (set: $deathsetup1 to $deathsetup1 + 1)] (link: "Look right.") [Nothing. All you can process is the frantic blood pumping through your eardrums. (set: $deathsetup1 to $deathsetup1 + 1)] (link: "Look behind.")[Nothing. How can this be? (set: $deathsetup1 to $deathsetup1 + 1)] (live: 5s)[You're [[confused]].]

(if: $deathsetup1 >= 3)[If only you had [[looked up]]...] (else:)[Perhaps try [[looking up|looked up]].]

After you don't return home, a few of your friends begin to worry about your whereabouts. A search party is organized, however no trace of you is ever found, aside from the flowers left in the meadow. Three days after the search begins, $dogname is found hiding underneath the porch of your family's old shack. Weak but miraculously alive, the only clue as to what happened lay in the mysterious long, deep gouges in the wood and soil around the cabin... The End. Ending #1 of 6. [[Restart|Cabin]].

(If: $whistle > 5)[As you begin to head back, you hear crunching and heavy panting behind you. You pause and turn around to see a (link: "very dirty")[disgusting, foul-smelling] $dogname trotting after you. You ruffle your pal's fur and the two of you walk briskly back to the [[cabin|endofday]].](else:)[You make it back to the cabin just as sun begins to set. Turns out, your adventure took far longer than you thought. As you approach your home, you call out to $dogname... But your friend, lost in the woods-or perhaps far worse- doesn't come home. It's too dark to go out searching now, but in the [[morning|amnodog]] you vow to search for $dogname.]

$dogname slumps tiredly at the foot of your bed, belly satisfied from the meal you've just finished providing you both. Since you're feeling on edge, you opt to fill yourself up with beef sticks and $dogname with dry kibble. Usually, you (link: "cook") [badly char] some venison or some frozen patties over a flame, but you feel too on edge to do any late night cooking outside. Anxiety keeps you awake a bit longer than you'd like. You decide to keep yourself busy. ----- [[Clean]] the table. It's piled with old books and pamphlets, many belonging to your dad. He used to do a lot of reading up here. You weren't close, but perhaps a trip down memory lane will ease your slumber. [[Sketch]] a picture. You didn't inherit your mother's talents, but it might put you at ease. Try to [[sleep early]]. You've had enough of this place for one year.

When you wake, you quickly throw open the door and check the surrounding area. "$dogname!" You call. You whistle. You plead. You beg. $dogname hasn't come home. You //have// to go out searching. Your chest is tight and tears begin to form at the corners of your eyes. You **can't** leave your friend behind. ----- You could head deeper into the forest, back where the [[meadow|end4]] was. $dogname is quite old and could have become stuck in the thick undergrowth. Hopefully has found $dogname... And nothing finds you. Perhaps $dogname headed out towards the [[lake|end1]]. You don't really know how to get there, as it's been a while. Perhaps you won't get lost and you'll find your companion enjoying some sunrays on the beach... Or something.

You start clearing off the table, kicking long-undisturbed dust into the air. You really don't have anywhere to put these items, so you spend your time pretending to sort through the books, papers, and other trinkets your family saved up here. You spend a while looking at old family photos, reminiscing. So much has changed in the past few years. You hope they'd both be proud... You dry the corners of your eyes, a sad flicker of a smile tracing your lips. You decide to move on. ----- A brown leather [[book|look at the book]] catches your interest. There isn't a title on the cover, but it smells of mildew and looks to be old. Who knows what kinds of secrets lie within? You could also [[check out the newspaper]] laying here. You could always dive into that and rediscover what October 17th, 2004 was like.

You wrestle out a scratch piece of paper and a dull grey pencil from the slight mess on the lone table. You absentmindedly begin the sketch the scenery you saw today. The meadow. The flowers. $dogname sniffing a butterfly. A ladybug crawling up the sleeve of your flannel. Random, mundane pleasantries. They manage to calm you down a bit and before you know it your eyelids feel heavy. Time to [[sleep]].

You lay down on your cot, staring at the slatted ceiling above you. The gentle snores of $dogname lull you to [[sleep]]...

You flip open the musty brown book and it becomes apparent it was your dad's. Throughout, passages are titled strange things such as: (font: "times new roman")[//Native American Monsters//], (font: "times new roman")[//Cursed Lands of the Midwest//], (font: "times new roman")[//Criptids and Their Origins//], and your personal favorite, (font: "times new roman")[//Curse or Aliens?//] this book proved to be...out there. Knowing your dad, you aren't all that surprised. Skimming through still makes you feel uneasy. Maybe it's time to go to [[sleep]].

You flip through the newspaper, briefly glancing at the sports section, the weather, and the old comics. As you're paging through, however, one hheadline stands out: (font: "helvetica")[THREE TEENAGERS MISSING AFTER WEEKEND AT LOCAL HANGOUT] Intrigued, you read snippets of the story further. (font: "times new roman")[This past weekend three students, all juniors at Pleasant Hill High School, went missing after what was supposed to be a typical camping trip...Foul play has not been ruled out.] As the article goes on, it's obvious their weekend excursion was at none other than Miracle Lake. (link:"//This// lake.") [Come to think of it, that name's a bit ironic, isn't it?] First Ricky Tallmadge, and these three as well? You only imagine, in more than a decade, others have succumbed to mysterious fates. You decide that's enough of the past for one evening and toss the paper back on the table. You ready yourself for bed. Hopefully you will be able to [[sleep]] fairly easily.

You fall into a restless sleep. Dreams of the lake and of the creatures surrounding it plague your mind. {(if: $redeyes is true) [Something startles you from your slumber. You look around wildly, until you notice the light coming through one of the two tiny windows your shack actually has. Someone is looking in. Someone with glowing red eyes. As you open your mouth to scream, they're suddenly gone.] (else:)[You wake up without warning, although you're not sure why. A sense of being watched overwhelms you.]} ----- [[leave in the middle of the night]] [[leave in the morning]]

You find yourself wandering for what seems like hours. Eventually, the sun sets and you're alone in the woods. Every animal niose, every crackling branch, is a dire threat. You begin to panic. You run blindly through the woods, terrified you'll never make it out alive. Before you know it, the ground gives way underneath your [[feet|end6]].

It takes you twice as long as you remember, but you finally reach the crisp, blue lake. Its pristene beaches and calm water is even more beautiful than you remembered. You wade into the water, surprised by its warmth. Something is calling you to the center of the lake. You don't know how, or why, but you can't seem to pull yourself from the enchanting grasp of the lake. Soon enough, something below the clear water pulls you under, its long fingers tight around your ankles. You never stood a chance. The End. Ending #5 of 6. [[Restart|Cabin]].

You pack up your things in a haste, ready to get out of that death shack before it's too late. You load up your duffle bag, a few trinkets, and $dogname into your truck. You speed as fast as you can down the dirt roads, not stopping until you reach civilization. Once you do, you pull over into a bar parking lot and fall asleep, exhausted emotionally and mentally. The End. Ending #2 of 6. [[Restart|Cabin]].

You pack up your things in a haste, eager to get home. You miss your Internet, your cable TV, your working shower, and your general sense of safety- just to name a few things. You load up your duffle bag, a few trinkets, and $dogname into your truck. You don't look back as you pull away from the cabin. It's best that you didn't. The End. Ending #3 of 6. [[Restart|Cabin]].

You head back the way you came from yesterday, whistling and (link: "calling")[pleading] for your friend to come back. The morning chill nips at you, but you hardly notice. //Where// could $dogname be? (live: 7s)[Just as you begin to lose hope. You hear it. //A tiny whimper//, off in the thick brambles to your right. You spring into action, running and digging through weeds and debris. The whimpering is louder, and you know you're close. "$dogname!" you call, heart racing in your chest. Leaves and sticks a few feet from you rise and fall as $dogname tiredly flops their tail. You let out a yell of joy and uncover your beloved dog. Tired, wet kisses cover your tear-streaked face as man and man's best friend are reunited. You hardly even notice the wound at first. Three long slashes run along $dogname's side- not deep, but damage was still done. You work quickly to wrap your dog in your dirty plaid jacket. You carry your companion out of the woods and run to your car. When you get cell service again, you dial the nearest [[animal hospital]]. ]

There was no way you could've seen the gorge. There was also no way for rescuers to see you, either. The End. Ending #6 of 6. [[Restart|Cabin]].

Despite their age and risk of infection, $dogname makes a full recovery in a few weeks. You couldn't hide your relief; how could you possibly cope with losing your best friend and the only family you had left? The End. Ending #4 of 6. [[Restart|Cabin]].