Halloween 2022: Choose Your Spooky Outcome: Chapter 1
Welcome to Drew's Annual Choose Your Spooky Outcome Novel, done over the 13 nights leading up to Halloween. First and foremost, this is a running story, so you'll want to read prior years' entries to know the whole tale.
THIS IS A SEQUEL, SO IF YOU WANT THE STORY TO MAKE SENSE YOU SHOULD GO READ THE PRIOR YEARS HERE
If you're reading one of these as it's happening, then be sure to vote for the choices you want made. If not, simply enjoy reading the finished story! Here's how it works:
The novel will run from October 19th – October 31st (13 days of Halloween). Every night I put up the newest chapter, along with a poll for you to make your decisions. Polls close at Noon CST on the following day, so I can write the next installment. Post goes up at night, rinse, lather, repeat.
There will be Dead Ends, choices you make that get your character killed. If people pick one, I’ll give you the Dead End, then redirect you to the other choice that didn’t kill you, because I think we all cheated at those books as kids and I see no reason to change that. Make it to the end without hitting one, however, and there just might be something special in store.
There will also be choices with the power to change, or End, the story itself. Previous examples include additions to the cast that I won’t spoil here for new readers. You’ll be able to distinguish each type of choice by the style used.
Lastly, there will once again be a Discord channel setup for discussing the story, votes, and theories. I’ve setup a free channel on my Patreon Discord, hope you can come join the fun!
Happy Haunting!
“Well?”
Wilbur turns, modeling the bespoke suit from all angles. It’s perfectly tailored to him, and has to be, because Wilbur is a large animated skeleton created by a concentrated dose of Halloween magic. A blast conjured by you, roughly a decade prior. Since then Wilbur has been a roommate, a friend, and easily the most success member of your abode.
“I think it looks snazzy,” Pumpkin compliments. Although your escaped daughter from a lost timeline is technically older than all of your friends, much of her memories and experience were lost when breaking into this world. That might be why she’s knocking back a harvest ale with a whiskey chaser despite the sun not even being down yet.
Then again, that could easily be Jim’s influence.
Your third roommate isn’t around currently, running late due to some wacky antic or another. Pumpkin came over before the traditional Halloween outing to have a chat, but Wilbur’s crisis of confidence interrupted you.
“I’m not usually this nervous, but we’re talking about a big international expansion for Dem Bones coffee. I really want to wow.”
“They’re flying you all the way to Japan for the meeting, I’d say they’re pretty interested,” Pumpkin assures him.
Thoroughly mollified, Wilbur returns to his room to pack, the suit in question going into a large bag where it would be carefully stored to minimize wrinkles. Once the door has closed, Pumpkin’s expression grow serious as she pulls a glowing key out from her bag.
The EverKey, a magical artifact of conveniently undefined power, one that supposedly holds the way out of some sort of theoretical trap. A tool that Pumpkin has been eager to use on you since her arrival, which might have gone over well enough except for the fact that-
“I need to stab you with this tonight.”
Yeah, that would be the main hurdle. Though Pumpkin has certainly never steered away from facing such an uncomfortable condition.
“Believe it or not, I have been listening all year when you kept reiterating that,” you assure her. “Every time I say no it strengthens the cage, we don’t know how many chances I’ll even get, and replacing the key isn’t very viable. I know it’s a big deal.”
“Yet you still haven’t decided to accept what must be done.” Pumpkin sets the key down on the coffee table, causing her drinks to rattle from its weight. “If you set your mind now, it will be easier to refuse the inevitable temptations.”
Rather than ask, you tilt your head to the side, earning an annoyed sigh from Pumpkin.
“So apparently you haven’t been listening that closely, because as I warned you, forces will conspire to keep you from using this key. Temptations will attempt to lead you astray for another year, emptying the hourglass until our chance is gone.”
If Pumpkin hadn’t literally saved and escaped her own reality, it would be virtually impossible to take the paranoid notion of cosmic forces giving a shit about anything you do seriously. But there’s undeniably a force at work, one strong enough to yank you back from the grips of death over and over.
Still, doesn’t the idea of active temptations sound a tad far-fetched? “Halloween is usually pretty exciting, sure, but I doubt-”
The front door slams open as Jim comes staggering through, five shiny plastic squares clutched in his hand. “I did it! I mother fucking did it! Eat my ass Probability, you fickle bastard.”
There’s not even time to ask what’s going on, as Jim rushes forward, thrusting the plastic squares toward you. “The Boo-Beer-Brawl, I finally got us tickets to the Boo-Beer-Brawl! Over a hundred breweries facing off with their best products, voted on by the crowd trying their samples, food provided by beloved local eateries to keep people somewhat sober. It’s the best booze event of the year and I scored us five tickets!”
“How the hell did you swing that?”
“The opportunity kind of hit me out of nowhere,” Jim explains, and for the first time you notice the right half of his outfit has been ripped up. “By which I mean an executive for the event rolled through a Stop sign and popped me back a few feet. This was my ‘go-away’ payment.”
Pumpkin is giving you a pretty pointed look, to which you do offer a small nod of acknowledgement. “Granted, that’s admittedly a little weird by normal standards, but not too out there for Jim.”
“Um, knock knock?” Your older brother Thad steps through the still open door, the first arrival to already be clad in his costume. With his tropical shorts, rash guard shirt, and toy board, it’s an obvious surfer-dude costume, which did fit Thad’s general look quite well. “You guys really should close this.”
“Open doors mean open opportunities.” Jim has moved to the kitchen, still staring rapturously at the plastic passes, even as he works one-armed to fix himself a drink.
“And bugs,” Thad counters. “So what’s the plan for Halloween? Is tonight the big night?”
Ignoring Pumpkin’s burning gaze, you instead answer Thad’s question. “We’re still kind of sorting things out. Did you have something in mind if not?”
“Actually, yeah.” Thad heads to the living room and sits down in a free chair, his sizable mass rocking it slightly. “Weirdest thing, a bunch of staff at my office got food poisoning today; all people who were going to work our company’s float in the town Halloween parade. I agreed to try and help cover, and if you want to pitch in, we could use the bodies. There’s an open bar fully stocked with top-shelf products, lots of snacks and treats, general fancy big corporate money setup. Plus I’ve heard the parade itself is a wild time.”
“Okay, that might, might be an acceptable substitute for the Boo-Beer-Brawl.” Jim appears to be fighting the words free from his mouth, helped by the combination of liquors poured loosely into his plastic cup.
Since you’re actively staring away from Pumpkin, you have a good view of the still open front door, which Victoria steps through, a large cloak covering most of her outfit from view. She seems to glide as much as walk, the only noise coming from the rustle of three garment bags tossed over her shoulder, stopping a few feet from the couch where you’re sitting.
“Good evening all. I trust I have arrived before Merlin marks our traditional starting point.” Victoria’s eyes linger on the EverKey, still glowing as it rests heavy on the coffee table.
“He’s been delaying it as long as he can,” Pumkin informs her. “And now there’s a beer festival and a Halloween parade to try and pull him away.”
Considering one of the choices being offered involves getting stabbed in the heart, it certainly seems like there’s defendable merit in thinking things over carefully, but the time to decide is drawing nigh. Everyone is watching you, save for Wilbur who has other things on his plate, waiting to see where the night will lead them. Off to a merry festival of intoxication, reveling amongst the spectacles of a parade, or stuck in whatever dreadful adventure starts with a knife to the heart.
What will you choose?
If you’re having trouble seeing the poll above, be sure to turn off any ad-blockers, as they commonly block embedded polls as well.
Don’t forget, there’s a special public channel on my Discord while the story runs! You’re welcome to join: https://discord.gg/3QGPvdzaFw