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You step into an elevator that shows much signs of disrepair, feet stiff and cold. It immediately creaks as soon as you take a step inside, and you worry if the elevator's dirty floor will be able to hold your weight. The inside of the elevator is hot and stuffy. The paint has faded from what you assumed to once be a pure white to a cream and is peeling at its sides. You push a rusty button There's a suffocating silence in the air that only continues to expand and fill the tight space as light flickered through the elevator door as you moved up past the bottom floors.
What should you do?
[[Dance to the elevator music.]]
[[Wait patiently.]]After bopping to the elevator jingles, you start doing cartwheels on the cold elevator floor. Unfortunately, this is an old and shabby elevator that cannot handle your epicness, and the cables holding up the elevator box snap. You realize that an elevator is more like a metal death trap and do a windmill-heck, let's throw in an airflare, too, 'cause f it—like the men did on a TV program you saw one day. You accept your faith as you crash and fall to your death.
The end.
Want to go back and try again?
[[Start - Elevator]]You wait patientyly for the elevator to get to its destination. You listen to the elevator jingles and whistle along, watching the floor numbers light up on the meter above the sliding doors. Then, slowly, with a creak and moan, the elevator box shutters to a stop, and the doors (even slower) slide open.
You rush out of the metal death trap and make it out of this precarious situation alive.
[[Congratulations.]]You walk down this very same hallway on the 8th floor that you've walked down countless times before. The hallway reeks of bleach and clorox. Although the building was old and the elevator in disrepair, the hallway tiles and walls were a pristine white, recently scrubbed. There's ample sunlight coming from windows with lace curtains, and you can almost smell the fresh, earthy smell of soil coming from the flower points resting on the windows' edge.
You enter the 5th door down into a cramped room the size of a storage closet. On the opposite wall of the room, there is a bookshelf, shoved to the brim with various objects and threatening to spill over: half-broken crayons, construction paper, colorful thread, dolls with a button or two missing, slinkies, balls of various sizes, pink plastic crowns and fairy wands, beaten up toy cars, a fake kitchen set.
A few of these items catch your eye. Which one do you take?
[[Take the crayon box.]]
[[Take the fox plushie.]]
[[Take the pink plastic crowns and fairy wands.]]You snatch the crayon box off of the shelf. All the crayons show signs of heavy use, the waxy stubs rounded and uneven, and many of them are missing their wrapping paper.
"Oh, well. This is the best we've got," you sigh.
You step out of the room and continue walking down the hall. You keep walking until you stop in front of the last room: 810.
[[Knock twice.]]
You snatch the fox plushie off of the shelf. It's missing one of its button eyes, and its tail is tearing at the seams. The autumnal colors are faded and there are a few moderately-sized stains permeated through the fabric.
"Oh, well. This is the best we've got," you sigh.
You step out of the room and continue walking down the hall. You keep walking until you stop in front of the last room: 810.
[[Knock twice.]]You snatch the pink plastic crown and fairy wand off of the shelf. The crown is shiny but dented in a few places, and the wand is slightly bent off center. They're also drenched with glitter, the sparkly flecks flaking off and sticking to your clothes with every step you take.
"Oh, well. This is the best we've got," you sigh.
You step out of the room and continue walking down the hall. You keep walking until you stop in front of the last room: 810.
[[Knock twice.]]Double-click this passage to edit it.You knock twice and say, "Knock, knock!"
There's a thick silence for a couple seconds before you hear shuffling on the other side of the door. A shrill voice squeaks from the other side.
"Who's there?"
[[It's me.]]
[[Your mom!]]
An awkward silence fills the air. A mumble leaks out from behind the door.
"...you're so old."
Your face heats up, flushes red, and you quite literally die from the embarrassment of pulling a dumb joke.
The end.
Want to go back and try again?
[[Knock twice.]]
The door slowly creaks open, and you see a small girl peeking out from the crack.
"Hey!" you wave to her.
She nods and lets you in. The room is small but feels spacious due to the simplicity. There is a bed, a bedside desk and chair, and a box of toys underneath a wall of glass windows filling the room with natural sunlight. You sit in the lone chair and ask the girl how her day was.
"Okay," she replies.
[[Reach into your left pocket and give her a chocolate chip cookie.]]You reach into your left pocket and give her a chocolate chip cookie.
"Here, eat this," you say.
The girl reluctantly grabs the cookie and observes it, staring at it intensely.
"I don't know if I can safely eat this," she says.
[["What do you mean?"]]
[["Just eat it."]]
[[Take back the cookie and shove it in your mouth.]]
"What do you mean?" you ask.
She turns to you and glares, her cheeks puffed up in a pout.
"I'm a gumiho, remember? I don't eat the same foods you do!"
"Ahhh, that's right," you laugh. "How could I forget something like that?"
She suspiciously watches your smile and sniffs the cookie a few times before gently placing it in her mouth and chewing. The little girl tries to hide her smile by immediately turning around and running to her activity box.
She fishes out a battered sketchbook, the bind tearing and the cover smudged with faded pencil lead, and jumps up onto the bed beside you.
[[Ask her if she drew anything new.]]"Just eat it," you command.
She turns to you and glares, her cheeks puffed up in a pout.
"I'm a gumiho, remember? I don't eat the same foods you do!"
"Ahhh, that's right," you laugh. "How could I forget something like that?"
She suspiciously watches your smile and sniffs the cookie a few times before gently placing it in her mouth and chewing. The little girl tries to hide her smile by immediately turning around and running to her activity box.
She fishes out a battered sketchbook, the bind tearing and the cover smudged with faded pencil lead, and jumps up onto the bed beside you.
[[Ask her if she drew anything new.]]Impatient, hot-headed, and just a tad bit stupid, you take back the cookie and shove it in your mouth. She stands there in shock, her mouth agape and eyes wide open, before filling with rage.
You suddenly remember that this girl is a self-proclaimed gumiho and jump out of the chair, running for the door. Nine slender white tails pop out from the girl's lower back, and her eyes shine a reptilian yellow, the pupils slit and vertical.
"You're going to pay for that," she hisses, baring sharp fangs.
You try to open the door before seeing a small, blood-covered fist erupt out from the middle of your chest and you watch in horror as a lump that can only be your heart pulsates with adrenaline before dropping lifelessly dead.
The end.
Want to go back and try again?
[[Reach into your left pocket and give her a chocolate chip cookie.]]"What did you draw this time?" you ask.
She flips through the pages and pages of colorful scribbles and lands on a sheet near the end of the book. She points to it and shows it to you, her eyes intense and fierce.
It's a scribbly drawing of a fox with nine blobby tails. The outline is in black, the actual coloring of the fox a snow white. The light sometimes caught the wax, and you could see the girl's futile attempts at coloring with a white crayon on white paper. There are blobby red circles surrounding the fox and a stickman horizontally laying infront of the fox. The letters "A E R A" are scrawled on in a dark blue with an arrow pointing from the letters to the fox drawing.
[[Ask to see another drawing.]]
[[Talk to the girl about her drawing.]]You ask to see a different drawing.
Her face fills with rage.
Nine slender white tails pop out from the girl's lower back, and her eyes shine a reptilian yellow, the pupils slit and vertical.
"What," she hisses, baring sharp fangs, "You don't like it?"
You jump out of the chair and run for the door before seeing a small, blood-covered fist erupt out from the middle of your chest and you watch in horror as a lump that can only be your heart pulsates with adrenaline before dropping lifelessly dead.
The end.
Want to go back and try again?
[[Ask her if she drew anything new.]]You ask the girl to tell you more about her drawing.
A small grin traces her face, but she quickly conceals it.
"This is me," she points to the white fox-like blob and then to the messy red circles, "...and these are the blood that spilled from the people I ate. The man here was my latest victim," she grinned a toothy smile as she motioned to the stickman helplessly laying in front of the fox.
[[Chuckle nervously.]]
[[Ask Aera if they tasted good.]]
You chuckle nervously and say nothing.
The girl's eyes linger on you, a strange yellow glow emanating from her irises, the pupils strangely thinning vertically.
"Don't you have anything to say?" she asks you, fury threading on her furrowing eyebrows.
"Uh, no," you manage to stammer out.
"What," she hisses, baring sharp fangs, "You don't like it?"
She grabs her sketchbook and slams it against the back of your head with unhuman-like strength. Your brain collides against your inner skull and you pop a major artery, inducing a stroke that foams your mouth and swallows you in darkness.
The end.
Want to go back and try again?
[[Talk to the girl about her drawing.]]
"Was their blood sweet?"
Aera tapped her chin and looked up at the ceiling in deep thought.
"Nope, not sweet. More salty and bitter," she puckered her lips then stuck out her tongue. "Blech, I'm not in it for the blood anyway. Blood tastes bad no matter what. I only eat them for their hearts, anyway."
[[Push.]]
[[Get up and exit the room.]]
You try to get up and leave the room.
Aera peers after you and glares when she sees your turned back.
"Where are you going?" she hisses, baring sharp fangs.
You jump out of the chair and run for the door, but she moves quicker, jumping out of her bed and blocking the door.
You cower in fear as nine slender white tails pop out from the girl's lower back, and her eyes shine a reptilian yellow, the pupils slit and vertical. She picks you up with an unhuman strength and promptly throws you out the window. While plummeting to your death from the 8th floor, you wonder if life would've been different if you had just decided to [[Dance to the elevator music.]]
The end.
Want to go back and try again?
[[Ask Aera if they tasted good.]]"How many hearts are you at?" you ask.
"365," a sense of pride confidently washes over her face, "one for every single day of the year."
"Impressive," you say.
You feel like you have many things to say, but nothing comes to mind. You try to come up with a conversation topic before Aera loses her patience.
[[Probe on gumihos.]]
[[Inquire about how hearts taste.]]
[[Ask what she ate for breakfast.]]
[[Question how she's doing.]]
"Aera," you say, "Tell me more about gumihos."
She crosses her arms and nods her head.
"Of course, a normal human being like you can't even begin to understand an awesome creature like me. It's only fair that I try and educate you on this matter."
She turns to another page in her sketchbook and shows another scribbly mess depicting a person with long black hair and nine tails standing on a cliff. There is a yellow blob in the background that you assume to be a full moon. She pointed at the drawing as if it was a figure in an academic textbook.
"As you know, I am a gumiho. Gumihos are magical, sexy fox ladies that live forever and can turn into anything they want. Right now, I'm disguised as a little girl, but I could transform into a cool fox, a beautiful young woman or even an old man if I wanted to!"
She smirked.
"You know, you're one very lucky human to know all of this. Most humans don't even live long enough to get this far."
Continue to [[Push.]]
[[Tell Aera to morph into an old man.]]"How do hearts taste?" you ask the girl.
Her face scrunches up, showing signs of hesitation and uncertainty.
"W-why do you wanna know?" she asks, her eyes avoiding my gaze. She shrugs her shoulders and her uncertain frown turns into a smirk. "Unless you're gonna eat hearts like I do, then there's no point in explaining it to a dimwit like you."
She looks away towards the large windows.
"Besides, I only eat hearts to survive. They're a temporary fix until I become an actual human, like you. But, don't worry, when I turn 1,000 years old, I'll finally be a normal human being, and I'll be able to eat all the foods you do, play all the same games, and finally leave this place."
You reach out for her hand, but she pulls away.
Continue to [[Push.]]
You unjokingly ask her what she ate for breakfast.
"Milk," she replies. "I threw up the toast they tried to give me. Must've been poisonous for my gumiho body." She blankly stared at her white bedsheets, her head tilted forward, presumably uncomfortable from the memory.
"That's unfortunate," you say.
Continue to [[Push.]]You notice how pale Aera looks today and ask her if she's feeling alright.
"Don't worry about it," she replies.You tell Aera to morph into an old man.
She looks at you with disgust.
Continue to [[Push.]]