Father of Beelzebub (Choose Your Own Adventure)

Path 3

Staying put is the only sensible thing to do. You're no good in a fight. There's no guarantee your grandma is dead, maybe they just knocked her out before looting the place. No one is going to find you in the walls. Just remain calm and let the robbers steal what they want.

What about the police? Should you call 9-1-1? What if the cops find you and kick you out of your home? On second thought, that's a selfish line of thinking, your grandma's safety is more important than a place to stay.

You don't have a phone, but maybe you can contact the police over the internet. You quickly search: can you call 911 by computer? After some reading you discover that you in fact cannot. Not even phone apps can connect to emergency service lines. You can email your local police precinct, but that's basically it. What the hell society?

You've done all that you can. Now you just have to wait for the intruders to leave. Seconds turn to minutes, minutes feel like hours. The anxiety of known unknowns gnaws at your consciousness. Part of you begins to feel a bit excited. You're in shark infested waters tucked safely behind shark proof bars. The thrill of danger without the risk harm is a curiously light feeling.

You begin to hear subtle footsteps through the walls. They're soft and quiet. Then you hear a heavy step, followed by a rasping drag. There are definitely at least two people out there. You listen closely.  Estinto taps traipse from room to room pursued by a rhythmic stomp and slide. They back track, twist, and turn seemingly at random. They're looking for something.

Movement stops. Moments later your heart sinks when you hear knocking on the walls. It's not the same wall between you and them, but it still rattles you. Are they looking for a safe? Maybe a hidden cache? You twitch when you hear knocking once more, this time closer than before. They can't be searching for you can they? Why would they? How would they even know you live in this house? The knocking gets louder, it's only one room away from you.

You hold your breath and dread the worst. Dust sprinkles from the ceiling as the knocking pierces your sanctuary. You freeze in fear. The knock upgrades to a relentless pounding. Silence. Smoke begins to permeate from the wall. A red blaze shines through, it forms a flaming circle. Are they using a laser cutter? A puff of fire engulfs the center of the burning ring. A veil of smoke clouds the new opening.

Through the curtain of smog a pale white leg steps into your hideaway. Blonde in hair, black in garb she exudes an aura of despair.

"Finally." She exclaims while adjusting her pointed ebony hat. "I have been looking for you all night." She begins to pat the dust from her short raven colored dress. She swats the smoke from the air and takes a look around your sty. "What a shit hole. What are you doing in a place like this?"

"W-who are you?" You manage to squeeze out.

"Gindail of the black spire, lord..." She leans forwards with her hand open palmed towards you.

"Uh. I'm not a lord."

"Not a lord? Don't tell me you're not aware of your situation."

"What are you talking about?"

"What am I talking about? Have you been living under a rock your whole life?" She scans your hole in the wall again. She becomes especially fixated on a partially filled bottle of lemonade. "By the Night Mother's hooves you have been living under a rock all your life." She looks at the floor in contemplation for a moment before turning to you. "Your soul is black, you have been tainted by the crimson coals of hell. If you had been out in public you undoubtedly would have come in contact with one of my sisters by now, or fire's forbid, a Templar. By wand or sword they would have revealed the truth to you."

"Are you insane? What do you want?"

"Insane? I have heard the witch god's song, the scarring of his voice were but a bruise in the presence of my strength. I'm here by the call of the blood moon to find the sire of Satan's child." You stare in disbelief at this woman draped in black. Rose flickers from the cinders of her entrance scintillate her garments. You spot a ruby orb in her left hand, swirls of red and black churn in the glowing sphere. Disbelief melts into doubt.

Grotesque coughing echos from the newly formed hole. It's your grandma. She's hunched over with eyes rolled into the back of her head. Her silver blood shot glare makes you shudder. She coughs again, foul fetid gore splashes to the floor. She's dead. Or more accurately, no longer alive. Doubt dissolves into plausibility.

"What did you do to her?" You question the witch.

"Killed her. Brought her back. Had questions for her." A tinge of grief blankets you. "Now let's talk business, the blood moon is tomorrow night, we must get ready." You hear the piercing sound of cracking glass coming from inside the house. The witch jumps to attention. She peeks through the breach in the wall, you glance from behind her shoulder. Three figures dressed in white robes approach you.

Your grandmother lets out a gurgled scream and lunges towards them. One of the robed men holds up a pearl crucifix. Light illuminates the building, the luminescent beam burns your skin, the witch lets out a grunt of pain, your grandma bursts into flames and quickly turns to ash.

"Templars. We need to get out of here right now." Another robed man chants into an object clasped in his hands. The witches' orb glows bright white. The woman quickly turns away from you clutching the ball tightly. Shards of glass explode from the orb and spear into the wall, a single large fragment pierces your monitor. She turns back. Jagged splinters protrude from her stomach, her hand is mangled beyond recognition, her blood drenches the floor. "Follow me, I know how to escape." She steps through the scorched exit.

*Follow Gindail through the hole in the wall.  Proceed to Path 8

*Remove the board from the corner of the room, move to the utility room, and escape through the back door. Proceed to Path 9