Readers vote on where this story goes next! Welcome to Briarwich. A sleepy coastal town with a dark history. You are Morgan, a college student on a boating trip with your four best friends. When you and your friends become stranded in Briarwich, you...
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Welcome to Briarwich.
This story will be hosted like a role playing game, where you, my readers, will choose where this story goes. My name is Jess, and I will be your GM.
The rules of the game are simple. Read the chapter to the end and vote where you would like this story to go. I will write the next chapter based on the most popular choice. It will be up to you guys to navigate the town and escape with your lives.
Be warned! Not all paths have happy endings.
Let's begin, shall we...?
Pure unfiltered darkness presses in on you from all sides, threatening to crush you under its weight. There is a tangible weight to it, almost like fog or mist, but no natural fog would move against the wind or swallow light so completely. The moon and stars above you are blotted out, their light swallowed by the darkness, depriving you of any guiding light to get your bearings.
You cling desperately to the handle of an old brass oil lamp. You feel like the lamp's weakly flickering flame is your only companion in this dark place. The finely carved etchings banding the base of the lamp seem to move and undulate by the brilliant white and blue light dancing within the flute of glass. The protective aura of the flame extends out only about two or three feet before the wall of darkness stops short, like a physical barrier. In the back of your mind, you imagine that this is what the inside of a black hole must look like – a place where light is sucked in and not allowed to escape.
Shadowed figures move just beyond the light's protective circle. Their silhouettes are obscured by undulating fluid blackness. What you can make out is too twisted and malformed to be human. They dare not come too close, but every now and then glittering eyes catch the light before darting back out of sight. Their chittering voices echo through the night from all sides like a cacophony of wild and hungry hyenas circling a dying animal.
You straighten your shoulders, gather your courage and press onward. You have no idea which way you are going, or even if your route will lead you to safety, but anywhere is better than here.
"Malcom! Val!" you call out in desperation. You lick your dry lips and swallow a lump in your throat, "Simon! Natalie!"
Your heart sinks as you strain to listen for any sign of your friends. Nobody calls back to you from the darkness. What else did you expect? You have failed and now you are all alone.
Well, maybe that is not entirely true. You are not completely alone. The twisted shapes following close by begin to make gurgling noises which you realize is laughter. The sound makes you queasy and weak at the knees. The figures in the dark want to remind you that they are out there, and they are getting closer.
Panic washes over you like ice water and sends your heart racing. You are prey, you realize, and there is nowhere to hide. Adrenaline fueled fright spurs you forward faster and faster. The rocky ground beneath your feet, uneven and riddled with shallow depressions and low shrubs, makes running nearly impossible, but you try anyway.
