The Cage

From Create Your Own Story

Revision as of 02:04, 14 June 2010

"Rise and shine, baby licks."

You wake up on cold concrete. That's not good. It never is.

"Tonight is the first night of the rest of your existence. First, the important stuff: you're dead. Each and every one of you is now a vampire."

Your skin is almost as cold as the concrete. You hear someone let out a confused gasp next to you.

"That means you have to drink blood to survive, and fire and sunlight will kill you dead. A stake through the heart will paralyze you, but not kill you."

You're... thirsty? Or is it hungry? Or horny? You can't seem to tell those desires apart anymore...

"I'll fill you in on the rest of the details later. Now if I may call your attention to more immediate matters, would you half-assed bunch of shitbrains please - pretty please - stop writhing on the ground like a bunch of fucking worms and look at me while I'm addressing you?"

Something in this guy's voice lets you know that you'd better listen. You sit up, straining against your muscles' painful protests.

You're in a rectangular cage with three walls, a floor, and a ceiling made of concrete. The fourth wall is made of thick metal bars. The space is about twenty feet by fifty feet, with the iron bars on one of the wide sides. On the other side of the bars is another concrete wall, with egresses to the left and right.

The speaker stands on the far side of the bars. He appears to be in his late twenties and is wearing blue jeans, sneakers, and a plain gray t-shirt.

"Aww. You're such a well-mannered bunch of corpse turds. How nice."

This guy looks intense. Not angry, yet, but he gives the impression that he could go from zero to complete self-control failure in the blink of an eye, and probably does so regularly.

"Here's the long and short of it. The long is, you all have been drafted to serve in a holy army fighting a war against an unknown number of ancient, godlike vampires who should be waking up any day now and will want to devour us all. The short is, we only want one of you."

In the cage with you are five other people: a Teenage Boy, a Middle-Aged Man, a Professional-Looking Woman, a Muscular, Tattooed Man, and a Girl in a Sorority Shirt.

Also in the cage are also five coffins.

"Oh, those" the Speaker says, as though in response to a question that you were thinking about asking but didn't. "Like I said, sunlight'll kill ya. Those aren't for the losers. They're for the survivors."

The Speaker looks around, taking stock of the situation thus far before moving forward. Apparently satisfied that everything is in order, he nods.

"Alright, let's get this party started. First thing's first: I need-"

"Man, what the FUCK is going on here?" It's the Muscular, Tattooed Man.

The Speaker regards him politely. He doesn't seem mad, only because he doesn't seem to feel threatened.

"Weren't you listening earlier? You're going to kill each other until only one of you is left, and THAT lucky leech will get to join a holy crusade against the really super-evil bad guys."

"You let me out of here RIGHT NOW, MOTHERFUCKER!" You instinctively recoil in fear. The Muscular, Tattooed Man suddenly looks scary. His fangs are bared (oh God he has fangs), his fists clenched (get away from him), shoulders square towards the Speaker.

You and everyone else in the cage, save the Muscular, Tattooed Man are as far away from the confrontation as possible. The Speaker looks mildly impressed.

"What's your name?"

"I said, you let-"

"TELL ME YOUR NAME, BITCH."

"Brandon," the Muscular, Tattooed Man answers without hesitation.

"SIT DOWN, BRANDON."

Brandon does so.

"Now then," continues the Speaker, clapping his hands together. "I need a volunteer."

Do you:

• Volunteer
• Don't Volunteer

Current Status

• Confused
• Afraid
• Hungry/Thirsty-ish

Inside the Cage

• You
• Brandon (Scary dude)
• Teenage Boy
• Middle Aged Man
• Professional-Looking Woman
• Girl in Sorority Shirt
• Five Coffins

Outside the Cage

• The Speaker