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This is PART FOUR of EPISODE ONE of the FIRST CYOA.
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Episode One
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You are... YouAreLeeEverettTextTest

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PART FOUR: "Cry For Help"
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You've chosen to check the answering machine.

Lee slowly starts towards the answering machine, eyes gazing around the house. He looks over the counter and into the kitchen, glancing at the drawers and cabinets that remained unopened. Despite how destroyed the house looks, the kitchen, apart from the blood, appears to be remotely untouched.

It's at that moment he loses his footing -- not paying attention, Lee slips on the blood and falls forward. "GNNGH!"

He slams into the table, knocking it and making the contents atop it jump. Just as he catches himself, the force of the impact sends a picture frame toppling forward, careening awkwardly off towards the floor, and landing with a clatter and a shatter of the glass casing.

Lee winces, pushing off the table and standing back up. As he leans down to pick it back up, a soft snarl, somewhere to his right, catches his attention. He looks down the dark hall through the kitchen, seeing a slightly ajar door at the end.

The man stays alert, holding the bloodied shotgun in one hand, the picture in the other. He stands back up, looking at the shattered object. He can make out three people in it -- presumably a father, mother, and their child. But the broken glass makes it a touch too hard to fully define the image.

Another soft snarl. Lee slowly sets the broken picture back on the table, and approaches the answering machine. His finger lingers over the button, wondering if making any noise would attract the source of the noise. He already feel on edge, knowing one of those... "monsters" is in this house.

... what happened to the family?

Beep

Another snarl, a partial one. There's silence for a moment, then the sound of a door slightly creaking open. A slow step, the thud of the doorknob hitting the wall, another slow step.

"Fuck..." Lee shakes his head. He slams the button, then holds up his shotgun, walking 'round the table.

"Three new messages. Message one. Left at 5:43 PM."

Lee grimaces, not prepared for the sight before him -- a very scrawny, mutilated corpse of a woman, shambling towards him. A struggled growl escapes her... or its maw. Her shaggy red hair and sunken in, rotted face shine briefly in the dim sunlight coming in through the window. Her jaw seemingly unhinges to let out another growl.

"Heyyyyy, Sandra! This is Diana. We're still in Savannah, Ed had a little... "incident" with some crazy guy near the hotel, so we had to get him back to the ER and have it checked out. Anyway, he's... not feeling well enough to drive back tonight, so we're staying an extra day. Thanks so much for looking after Clementine, and I promise we'll be back in time before your spring break!"

Lee holds up the shotgun. Remembering there's no ammo, he holds by the barrel, like a baseball bat.

"Message two. Left at 11:19 PM."

The deformed girl reaches for him, almost an arm's distance away. Lee swings. The end of the gun connects hard with her temple, eliciting a startled snap of a growl to escape her crooked throat.

"O-Oh, my God, finally! I don't know if you tried to reach us-- a-all the calls are getting dropped. They're not letting us leave, and aren't telling us anything about Atlanta. Please, please, just-- leave the city and take Clementine with you back to Marietta. I've got to get back to the hospital. Please let me know that you're safe."

She falls to the ground, and Lee stands over her as she snaps and reaches for him. He readies the butt of the shotgun over his head, and brings it down.

"Message three. Left at 6:51 AM."

With a hard grunt, Lee smashes the butt of the shotgun into the girl's face, bringing out another growl and leaving a bloody dent between her nose and right cheek. He winces, bringing the gun up once more and smashing it down onto the girl's face.

And again.

And again.

And a fifth time.

"C-Clementine...? Baby, if you can hear this, c-call the police. That's 9-1-1... we love you... we love you... w-we love y--"

Lee stops, panting, blood coating his legs and ankles, and the butt of the gun. The girl lay dead, blood pooling from her body, primarily her head, which was now completely caved in.

Silence takes over the house.

The glass door slides open. Lee's panting stops, and he swings his head around to look.

His eyes fall on a small girl, in a white dress, with a blue-and-white baseball cap. She's trembling in the doorway, eyeing him fearfully, with a hammer tightly gripped in her hands.


Before you vote, we suggest joining the community Discord.
Enter the CYOA channel to discuss your options.

WHAT WILL YOU DO?
(VOTING CLOSED)


87.1% of people voted to interact with the girl. (27 Votes)

12.9% of people voted to attack the girl. (4 Votes)

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