Choose Your Own Gruesome Death
Choose Your Own Gruesome Death stories

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(1)You stumble over rocks and twigs. The forest is closing in on you. You fight back panic. [Go to line:(2)]
By Lord_Bronte

Choose Your Own Gruesome Death

by Lord_Bronte

(1)You stumble over rocks and twigs. The forest is closing in on you. You fight back panic.

[Go to line:(2)]

(2)It’s getting dark and you’re definitely lost. Maybe you have something in your jacket that can help. Did you bring your lighter? A compass? A phone?

[Search your jacket:(6) / Continue walking:(4)]

(3)You can just make out a clearing ahead. Confidently, you walk forward. Something crunches under your feet. Not leaves. Metal? A crushing pain wraps around your ankle.

You collapse.

The bear trap holds your leg firmly; you can’t free yourself. Hours pass. Darkness spreads.

You begin to shiver. Then—lights! Headlights. A loud engine. A truck drives up and crunches to a stop. Two men—unwashed, unshaven, grinning—step out.

“Well what do we have here?” The taller one says to the other.

They pick you up bodily, ignoring your protests. They bind your hands and throw you in the truckbed. The rumbling of the engine drowns out your screams as they drive off into the night.

(4)The best way out is through. Plus, you’re sure that you came out here empty-handed. As you walk, it begins to grow dark. In the fading light, you see your path diverging.

[Head to the clearing:(3) / Head deeper into the woods:(7)]

(5)No time to stay and see what happens. You drop your jacket and run off into the forest. As you crunch through the undergrowth, the sun goes down.

Occasionally you hear growls or howls, but you steer clear, even in the dark.

The temperature drops.

Another hour of walking, you begin to shiver violently. Your T-Shirt is poor protection.

First, you loose feeling in your ears, then your fingers…your nose.

Eventually you’re too weak to go on.

You stop shivering. You feel warm. You feel nothing.

(6)You stop and remove your jacket. You check the inner pockets: a receipt. Not useful. You check the outer pocket.

As you feel a promising bulge, you hear a sound. A breathing? A crackling? Above you?

[Drop the jacket and run:(5) / Find an item:(8)]

(7)The darkness is absolute. You stumble and bump into logs and trees. Branches whip your face as you pass. Your foot catches on something, and you go down.

Your head makes contact with a hard stone, and you lose consciousness.

Hours pass. Days?

You wake up.

[Stand up:(1)]

(8)Hurriedly, you reach into the pocket. Your hands close on something. A knife! But suddenly, something weighty comes crashing down, knocking you prone. You feel a terrible pain in your ankle.

You spin around. Something sinks its teeth into your flesh. More weighty thumps come down around you. They have fur. Cute faces. Sharp teeth.

You struggle to reach for the knife, but a blinding pain stops you as another’s jaws close around your arm. You watch as it rips a chunk of flesh away and swallows.

Blood pumps from your ruined veins. More teeth, more threshing. Your world is pain for an eternity until finally, mercifully, one of them finds your throat.

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