The ??? CYOA (Update 12/27/13)

        A myriad of voices intertwined with one another fill the school yard. Students of various color, height, and appearance walk by, each of them going about the duties they need to attend to on this day. In the midst of this hustle and bustle stands a lone boy. He stands with his head held high, looking at the stone horse that stood gallantly above the moving crowd. A grimace was present on his face, making him seem to be in deep thought.

 

        Something… doesn’t seem quite right.

 

        He isn’t sure what that “something” is exactly. It could be anything for all he knew. Maybe his friend, Brad, was talking shit about him behind his back, maybe his other friend, Twilight, might cause yet another magical mishap to occur later that day. No matter what inane, yet definitely possible, ideas filled his head, he can’t pinpoint what it is that makes him feel… unease. All he knew at this point was that the feeling has been there since the day began.

 

        A sigh escapes his lips; he’ll figure it out by the end of the day. What he needs to do right now is not sit and ponder, there’s a class he needs to attend.

 

        With not much to do, he began his trek. A variety of thoughts decided to bring themselves to his attention in the midst his travel. He wonders what his assignments from the previous night were, if there was something that he had forgotten to do. There was a test coming up in Algebra Two, maybe he should study on that some more when he got the chance. He remembers that the Physics teacher was going to bring out a working hovercraft today. Twilight’s reaction to hearing that was one that he definitely wouldn’t be forgetting anytime soon.

 

        As his mind wandered and he became lost within his thoughts, the people that once rummaged through their lockers or talked with their friends were beginning to thin in number. He walks down an empty hallway, unaware of everything that surrounded him. A dull yet forceful throb in the back of his head caused him to stumble in his step. He looks back, thinking that the source would be behind him. A sight, one that he had once called familiar, lay foreign before him. There was a hallway, one ending at a branching path leading to the left and right. Multiple lockers, posters, doors, and decorations adorn the artichoke colored walls.

 

        The hand on his head, once fervent with its duty to soothe the aching head, began to slow. The young boy blinks once, twice, three times for good measure. He begins to look around, curiosity and bewilderment lay evident in his expression. A quick examination of the lockers revealed no numbers to identify them, but speckled black markings instead. Realizing something was definitely amiss, he makes his way to one of the nearby doors to ask for help. His hands make an effort to firmly grasp the knob, ready to open the door upon demand. Yet, there as a moment of hesitation, and in the moment, he had become aware of something he wished he hadn't. Behind the door was an unfamiliar sound, one that he had never heard throughout his time at this school. There was not the sound of lectures, of scolding rambunctious teenagers as they pulled pranks on unsuspecting victims, or even of the occasional snoring he’s heard some teachers make! Behind the door was the sound of complete and total silence.

 

...Should he really open the door?

 

        He really shouldn’t intrude. If it’s quiet enough to be completely silent, something serious must be going on inside, right? Even then, as his mind came to a solid conclusion, his body thought otherwise. A click is heard, the boy looks down to see himself already pushing the door open. A bright, white light pours out from the inside, becoming increasingly more blinding the farther the door goes. The boy makes no effort to scream, yell, or even be surprised, the most that he does is cover his eyes with his free hand. A light, amused cackle is heard from within.

 

        “Step inside, child, there is no need to be afraid.”

 

        That simple statement was enough to convince the boy otherwise. If he could, he would close the door completely and “’nope’ on out of there”. That being said, he couldn’t, for as the voice had finished, the boy was already closing the door to the halls he had just occupied… from the inside.

 

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        A blink.

 

        The boy stands on the top of a red ladder, holding a screwdriver to what seems to be a partially unscrewed air vent on the ceiling. He feels as if… he just got back? It’s an odd feeling to be sure, but one that doesn’t go away. He looks around, taking note of his surroundings and making an attempt to gauge his current situation.

 

        He was in a classroom, which isn’t that unusual considering he remembered entering the school. Yet even so, a single glance at the room’s only other occupant told him all he needed to know about his situation. Standing tall, a satisfied smirk on his face, is a teen just about the boy’s age. His ocean blue hair stands up, as if it feels the need to imitate tall grass. The black jacket he wore was open, carrying a red and white stripe on the upper portion.

 

        “Brad,” the boy said, confusion evident in his voice, “What have I been doing?”

 

        That smug smirk began to waver, slowly turning into an expression that mimicked his own.

 

        “…What- dude, I told you the plan five different times. How could you have forgotten at this point?!”

 

        To be fair, Brad’s plans tended to be just as, if not more, complex than Twilight’s. The boy usually needed to get Brad to repeat himself a couple of times JUST so he could understand the basic concept. Thinking back, they may not be as “complex” as they are “inane and having no realistic sense”.

 

        “…Okay,” the boy nodded, understanding that he was in yet another one of Brad’s “Schemes”,  “but what is it exactly that you wanted me to do?”

 

        He let out a long groan, his hand pinching the bridge of his nose as he recounted the plan once more.

“Okay, Norman, listen closely- for real this time. We, as in “you and I”, are going to fill the air vent with water balloons,” He makes a gesture to the door, “Snips and Snails already brought a cart of them, they’re right outside the door and waiting to help fill the vent.”

 

        “You got them in on this?”

 

        “Of course I did, they failed last week’s test too. Having extra help isn’t a bad thing you know!”

With that line of logic, he should’ve just gotten a tutor. Regardless, Norman began to wonder why he agreed to this, a C wasn’t that bad of a grade. Not only that, but he actually liked this teacher, she’s one of the few that isn’t boring to listen to.

 

        “Why don’t you just… you know, take some papers from her desk or something?” Norman asked, hoping to convince Brad of a less humiliating approach.

 

        “…Why would I go through a teacher’s stuff? That’s like invading someone’s personal property, you know I wouldn’t do that!”

 

        “…That’s bullshit, you and I both-“

 

        “OH GOD IT’S EVERYWHERE!!!” yelled a third, shrill voice from the outside. Both the beanie wearing protagonist and the blue-haired guitarist turned towards the sound

Water was seeping from under the doorway.

 

        As Brad dashed to the door, slamming it open and demanding answers, Norman carefully made his way down the ladder. Maybe he could use this time to escape? …Then again, how could he? This room is on the second floor, and Brad is in front of the door. A part of him felt guilty for even considering leaving, Brad trusts him, and would it really be right to go against that trust? He could probably do something else while he’s in here, there's certainly enough stuff for him to.

 

        Brad gives a sigh from the doorway, telling Norman not to go anywhere before leaving, presumably to beat the living shit out of the idiotic duo. Norman waves back halfheartedly in return, showing signs of acknowledgement but not necessarily caring. His mind was currently elsewhere, gazing upon the entirety of the classroom has a plan began to mesh together.

 

        Forget Brad, and forget his plans, this is genius at its purest.

 

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        “Hey Norman, we’re going to need… to… “

 

        “…make a backup plan?”

 

        With the way that the classroom looked now, Norman was glad that the school doesn’t have cameras. At least, he’s pretty sure it doesn’t. In the center of the room was not a group of desks, sorted in a 3x4 formation, but a pyramid. No, the desks weren’t just stacked atop one another, they were tilted and positioned in ways that would make the structure seem taller, larger overall. A number of them were held together by rope, some of which was pinned down to the ground as if he the intention was to pitch a tent. On the inside of the structure were a number of posters, hung on the sides in order to imitate ancient tapestry, as well as the folding ladder that was used to access the air vent. Said folding ladder was almost entirely covered with rope as well, mostly being used as support and a base to shape the triangle. Underneath that ladder was Norman, both dazed and stunned by his achievement. His body rested atop of the once disheveled teacher’s desk, which now seemed oddly clean and much more polished than before.

 

        Now that the deed had been done, you think he would be happy, right? If anything, Norman felt regret. Sure, he made multitudes of awesome with his bare hands, and sure he did it in the small amount of time that Brad was gone, but… it couldn’t exactly be taken apart now.  Fuck, he just knew that he was going to get in trouble for this, and he really didn’t want to have to deal with it later.

 

        “...Dude, what the actual heck.” The spikey haired guitarist said, taking a step forward as he marveled the newest wonder of the world.

 

        “Yeah, I know, I should’ve asked befo-“

 

        “No, shut up,” Brad said, walking towards the pyramid with a look of in-progress comprehension. He took a hold of a loose bit of rope, raising it up as he looked to Norman for an answer. “Where did you get the rope?”

 

        “I…”

 

        The average teen found it hard to actually finish what he said, trying to recall where exactly the rope came from. It took him a moment to remember, and instead of answering verbally, opened one of the larger desk drawers, one which was filled to the brim with papers.

 

        “I have no idea why she filled it with rope, honestly none.”

 

        Brad didn’t say a word, opting to take in the entirety of the structure instead. Norman got up, from his resting spot, groaning as his sore muscles moved about. As he walked by Brad, a hand was placed on his shoulder in an effort to stop him.

 

        “I like it,” he points to the ladder, “but when am I going to get that back?” Norman shrugged, he didn’t know, nor did he actually care at the moment. Rest was on the top of his priority list.

 

        “…Right, anyway, goodjob, buddy!” he gives our protagonist a slap on the back. “Now come on, I’ll treat you to dinner for making you come so late at the school.”

 

        “I’m not one of your waifus Brad.”

 

        “Yeah, but you deserve it.”

 

        “It’s 1:00 in the morning, no one’s going to be open.”

 

        He laughed, “Then you’re in for a surprise later, I know of this one place…”

 

        As the two walked down the flooded halls, going past the cart that held two unconscious bodies and plenty of colorful latex, completely unaware of the true consequences that their actions held.

 

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Despite the events of the previous day, the rest of the weekend lacked any excitement. Norman usually cherished the weekends for the brief period of peace they held. It was during those days that he sat around and played on his Xbox 360, maybe watch a couple of funny videos on the internet if he felt like it. Of course, weekends weren’t always that peaceful, sometimes one of his school friends came over unexpectedly, only to drag him into yet ANOTHER thing that he personally thought he would be better off without.

 

http://youtu.be/Uc9S9qfL7Ts

 

…Unfortunately for him, Sunday was not one of those peaceful days. An arm removed itself from the warm shelter of covers that adorned his bed. It knew its job and its destination, slinking its way over to the bedside table. A hand met the source of the sound, and bringing it towards the owner as a finger glided over the source’s surface.

 

Click. The music stopped

 

“Brad, what is your freaking problem?” a tired, droning voice demanded from the bed, “It’s… I wanna say six in the morning. What do you want?”

 

“Woah, dude, take a chill pill, I’m not trying to steal “Aryan Beauty” from you,” came the reply, not exactly thrilled by Norman’s response, “I just want to talk-“

 

“Well I don’t, later.”

 

“No. Norman, you don’t understand. This is-“

 

Just like that, Brad’s voice was cut-off. Whatever it is, it could be dealt with later. Setting his phone on Silent, he set it aside once more, opting to enter the world of dreams once more.

 

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It is midafternoon, with no clouds to obscure the bright and shining sun. Norman Normal is standing right outside of the school, a mortified expression being the only one he could muster.

 

When he checked the texts that Brad had sent him after none of the other calls were picked up, he didn’t care for their contents. Brad had sent various different pictures, each of them detailing the same thing, just at a different angle than the other photos. The photos were pictures of a group of the school’s windows, specifically the windows of the classroom he built the pyramid in. Last time he had seen them, they were clean as a whistle, not a speck of dirt to be found! This time, small amounts of foliage and other, various kinds of plant life were coming out from the inside. Truth be told, it wasn’t all that noticeable. Most people would probably walk by without a second glance to it.

 

That is not what mortified Norman, however. Not even close.

 

Brad had sent a message along with the pictures, saying that he was going to go check things out and tell Norman of his adventure later. It’s been around six hours since then, and not a single thing had been heard of from Brad. Norman, being worried for his friend even if he wasn’t willing to admit it, went to check things.

 

What HE saw was drastically different from the pictures. Large vines, cracks in the walls, an entire portion of the school looking completely unstable and out of commission, whereas the other parts of it looked fine, purple ooze seeping from the windows, fungi littered about the ground in front of the building… What the hell happened to his school?!

 

Norman had thought to get help, really he had, but after looking around, noticing that people who walked by didn’t give the school a second glance…

 

Could… could this be the…

 

He really hopes it isn’t, if it is somehow related to that… he doesn’t want to think about what might end up happening.

 

A rumble in his pocket kicks him out of his thoughts. Picking up his phone in hopes of a distraction, of ANYTHING to get his thoughts away from the school, he checks it.

 

It was a text from Brad, and in that text was something Norman almost shit himself seeing.

 

hlp

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