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Abstract

te>A knick of fear attempts to sway you from making a risky decision.The fear is cast-off as you bolt towards the mare as you can’t allow them to escape!Time seems to warp about as you begin to move past the tree.Victory is at the tip of your tongue but soon the taste begins to sour.For though you’ve passed the tree your leg was not so fortunate.You’re forced to the ground as your leg is crushed completely sending forth the most excruciating sensations you’ve endured at least physically.Your mind begins to panic as rainwater seeps from the ground into your face.The mare escapes into the shadows as you wail and scream out from immense suffering.The tree will never allow you to escape it as you lie face down in the mud.You endure the hardship of

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the storm for several hours until the conclusion of the night.In the morning you grow hungry as your eyes and skin grow irritated.No one can hear you and you can’t so much as reach towards anything of use.Over time you begin to shrink away into weakness until all fat is depleted and your body begins to eat your muscle.The last memory you have is of a good day you had as a child when your father embraces you in his loving arms.You sob with the little water left in your body before passing out.You die a horrible, painful, and tragic death where no one recovers your body, and what remains gets absorbed back into the woods where you grew up with friends and family.You’ve lived a good yet painful life and now your suffering is finally over.The end.</article></body>

STORY ARC #3 THROUGH THE BLACK DOOR

You Attempt To Run Past The Tree

Victory is at the tip of your tongue but soon the taste begins to sour.

Read the opening of Through the Black Door here! To go back to the visitor path, click here. For the tomb path, click here.

A knick of fear attempts to sway you from making a risky decision.

The fear is cast-off as you bolt towards the mare as you can’t allow them to escape!

Time seems to warp about as you begin to move past the tree.

Victory is at the tip of your tongue but soon the taste begins to sour.

For though you’ve passed the tree your leg was not so fortunate.

You’re forced to the ground as your leg is crushed completely sending forth the most excruciating sensations you’ve endured at least physically.

Your mind begins to panic as rainwater seeps from the ground into your face.

The mare escapes into the shadows as you wail and scream out from immense suffering.

The tree will never allow you to escape it as you lie face down in the mud.

You endure the hardship of the storm for several hours until the conclusion of the night.

In the morning you grow hungry as your eyes and skin grow irritated.

No one can hear you and you can’t so much as reach towards anything of use.

Over time you begin to shrink away into weakness until all fat is depleted and your body begins to eat your muscle.

The last memory you have is of a good day you had as a child when your father embraces you in his loving arms.

You sob with the little water left in your body before passing out.

You die a horrible, painful, and tragic death where no one recovers your body, and what remains gets absorbed back into the woods where you grew up with friends and family.

You’ve lived a good yet painful life and now your suffering is finally over.

The end.