<<if $Clone eq 2>> You blink. The blood feels warm as it trickles down your arm and seeps into your clothes. The little girl-monster blinked too.\n\nThen it stopped blinking.<<else>><<set $Life = $Life - 1>>The girl scrabbles for a few, painful moments. You feel the skin on your arms being torn apart, but all of it seemed... Distant. Your blood and her blood mixes together, trickling onto the floor.\n<<endif>>\n[[Congratulations!]]

The key is sucked into the door with a wet schulp, and you draw your hand back. You are simply too tired to put up any more of a reaction than an exhausted sigh.\n\nNo, it is too early for sleep.\n\nThe door opens. A warm light flushes past the frames of the door. You do not see beyond the outline of the door. The light seemed to beckon to you with memories of fragrant teas and quiet afternoons. You feel a certain anxiety.\n\nYou step through the opening.\n\n//Good morning!//\n\n~THE END: ALTERNATE~\n\n[[Restart?]]\n{Hint: See if you can kill the monster with the knife?}

<<set $Pocket_Knife = "yes">>\nYou dive down at the rusty blade, barely skimming the the outstretched claws of the monster-girl as she lunges for you. The pocket knife clatters to the ground as you fumble for it, trying to open its stubborn maw.\n\nThe pain comes in pinpricks at first, then all at once. It was as if someone had stabbed you in the back of the legs, which literally happened.\n\nLike, you literally just got stabbed in the back of the legs. <<set $Life = $Life - 2>>\n\nThe little girl tightens her grip, and you feel the warm stickiness of your blood oozing onto your pants.\n\nYou fall to your knees, resisting the urge to cry out.\n\n[[StabItStabItStabIt]]

No. It's a trap. You leave the key behind, neatly placed on the chest of the little corpse.\n\nYou stand in front of the mirrored door. Blood stained your shirt, your pants, your face.\n\n//Well look at you now, all grown up!//\n\nThe voice bode a fiendish glee. You wanted to throw up.\n\n//So you guessed it, huh?//\n\nYes. The other doors are just lies.\n\n//Good! Then do you know how to open this one?//\n\nNo.\n\n//Your little finger.//\n\nYou look down at your little finger, then back at the mirrored door. There is no keyhole, you think.\n\n//Yeah there's no keyhole. The point is you have to amputate it yourself! Isn't it great?//\n\nNo.\n\n//Use your teeth.//\n\nNO\n\n//God I love this part. Hurry on then! You want to go home and see your mummy, don't you?//\n\nNO SHUT UP I DON'T NEED TO HEAR THIS\n\n//Well. I'm a patient person.//\n\nNO\n\n//Tick~ Tock//\n\n"SHUT UP!" You shout.\n\nYou open your mouth and put your little finger in. You apply pressure, and the pain causes your eyes to water.\n\n//Hurry up!//\n\nYou clamp down, the soft tissue tearing and sending the warm metallic blood down your throat. You bellow, like a beast. The severed finger falls to the ground. The blood chokes you, the saltiness stinging your hoarse windpipe. For a moment, you feel as if this is never going to end. You feel as if you are going to be forever trapped, holding your pinky-less hand and choking on your own blood.\n\nThen the door opens, retreating into a slot on the side.\n\nCold air rushes in.\n\n[[The End?]]

<<silently>>\n<<set $Pocket_Knife = "no">>\n<<set $Black_Key = "no">>\n<<set $White_Key = "no">>\n<<set $Life = 5>>\n<<set $Clone = 5>>\n<<endsilently>>\n\n-Note-\nYou are not immortal, if that weren't obvious to you before. Keep that in mind.\n-EndNote-\n\n//Life is only a dance\nBreathing is just a rythme//\nA robotic, saccharine voice sends a chill down your spine. Your eyes snap open as if you had been electrocuted. Your pupils contract and dilate in the darkness.\n\n//Good day, dear.//\nThe wet, blue-green notes of the mechanical voice echoed in your ears. You pull yourself up, the floor slippery with spots of dampness. \n\n//You woke up a little earlier than I expected.//\n\n[[Where am I?]]\n[[Who am I?]]\n[[What.]]

//Hooray!//\n\nA small puff of confetti flutters in the brisk air and drifts between you and what remains of the little girl. Your blood drips onto the ground and mingles with hers. You feel weak, but you refuse to collapse to your knees.\n\n//You did it!//\n\nI killed someone, you thought. \n\n//Just pick up the key and you'll be ready to go!//\n\nThe voice was cheery still. Was that a hint of static or was that just your imagination? You could hardly tell.\n\n[[Where's the key?]]

Oh come on. That's obviously going to get you killed... Unless that's what you want? Get a hold of yourself already!\n\n[[Pick the Girl-Monster Up]]

There's something wrong about this, but you can't quite put your finger on what. The doors seemed... Too easy.\n\n[[Look Around For Another Exit]]\n[[Ask the Stupid Robot]]

Although you haven't been in that many fights other than that one scuffle you had with another kid in grade six, you have a vague idea of how to throw a decent punch. <<set $Clone = $Clone - 1>>\n\nYou throw your fist into the little girl-monster, feeling the soft tissue of her nose collapse under your knuckles. The tiny beast flies backwards, red blood dripping onto her lips.\n\n[[Make For the Pocket Knife]]\n[[Lie Down and Cry]]\n\n

OH FRICKING ASS WAFFLES YOU ARE IN SO MUCH CRAP\n\nYou make a run for the exact opposite direction of the girl, hoping its small size would be outpaced by your longer legs.\n\nGod, how wrong you were.\n\nThe fabric covering your calves tear with a loud screech. She's almost upon you now - sharpened, bleeding fingers and all. The little girl swipes at you, expressionless.\n<<set $Life = $Life - 1>>\n//Running doesn't help!//\n\nThe voice cheers, as if it were watching a shoddy movie with a dumb protagonist.\n\n[[Pick the Girl-Monster Up]]\n[[Punch It Like You Mean It]]\n[[Make For the Pocket Knife]]

You shiver, and your tears blur your vision.\n\n"Well! That was a wonderful performance!" You hear someone's voice from inside the door. You do not bother to recognize the familiarity of it.\n\n"Now, you get to take a little break."\n\n"Are you still going to dismiss everything I say as irrelevant?" You wheeze, a strangled gargle in the silence of it all.\n\n"Yes."\n\nYou had never heard a gun fire before. It felt as if someone had stuck a pin through your ears. Then you feel it - a slow, spreading warmth in your chest. It's as if someone was holding you and leaning their head against your ribs. \n\nYet, even if someone was doing so now, they would not hear a single thing.\n\n{THE END: TRUE END}\n//Thank you for participating in the experiment.//

You squint and scrutinize the remainder of the room. It does not appear to have any exits other than the three doors standing ominously behind you. Interestingly enough, the splotches of blood seemed to be gathered around the three doors, as if the whole room was the canvas of some broken artist.\n\n[[Ask the Stupid Robot]]

Brilliant lights from above bloom into life, carving blue spots into your vision. You suddenly have a much better understanding of what it feels like to be a deer in headlights. It's not a very pleasant feeling.\n\n//This is an experiment.//\n\nYou decide not to ask any questions, instead rubbing your eyes silently in hope that you would be able to see a little more than blue and red blotches.\n\n//Your objective is very simple.//\n\n//Leave this place.//\n\nThat's it? You think to yourself. This is probably some twisted dungeon that someone came up with to screw with people. \n\nHow did I even get here? You blink away the last of the blue blotches, the thought dark in your mind. You search for an answer and find nothing.\n\n//You may begin.//\n\nYou look around. The sickening realization sinks in. The red blotches were not illusions of your brain. The white floor underneath your feet is splattered with blood - dried and fresh. Flakes of crusted fluids cling to your shirt stubbornly even when you cringe and attempt to dust them off.\n\nYou see three doors at around five metres in front of you - one white on the left, one black on the right and one in the middle. You look a little closer at the middle one. You contain the reflex to jump when you see your own face staring back at you inside it.\n\nIt's a mirror? You think to yourself. Weird material for a door.\n\nThis is turning out to be awfully simple, you note as you walk closer to the doors. It's a square room with three doors. What puzzle could possibly be easier?\n\nYet the blood on the ground seems to indicate otherwise. You push the thought away, nauseated.\n\n[[Examine the Doors]]\n[[Search For Another Exit]]

You aim a well-directed kick at her stomach, wishing fervently that it would somehow knock her out. You've seen it done in movies, so it must work, right?\n\nHint: Fiction does not equate to reality.\n\nNot only do you miss, sending yourself on a less-than-graceful pirouette, you also manage to catch a last glimpse of the little girl-monster's claws before they sink into your retinas.\n\n[[Restart?]]

Three Doors Two Keys

You are yourself, obviously.\n\n[[What.]]\n[[Where am I?]]

The little girl's spittle stains your fingers. Wisps of blood stain it a weak red, like that of watered wine.\n\nI did it. You think. I can go now.\n\n[[Open the Black Door]]\n<<if $Life gte 2>>[[No]]<<endif>>

You clasp your hands around its neck, trying your very best not to let go as you watched it scrabble at your wrists with pointed aggression. Thankfully, your adrenaline keeps you from feeling too much pain. <<set $Life = $Life - 2>>\n\n<<if $Clone eq 2>> Slowly, the scrabbling stops, and your burst of adrenaline fades. The pain sears the exposed nerves and you collapse the the ground, hissing and clutching your arm. The girl fell alongside you, her eyes bulging out of their sockets. She gives a twitch, and for a moment you swear she would start moving again. \n\nShe doesn't. \n\n[[Congratulations!]]<<else>>Slowly, the scrabbling stops, and your burst of adrenaline fades. The pain sears the exposed nerves and you collapse the the ground, hissing and clutching your arm. The girl fell alongside you, her eyes bulging out of their sockets. You give a sigh of relief.<<set $Clone = $Clone - 3>>\n\nThen she gets up, teetering.\n[[Last Ditch Effort]]<<endif>>

"Will you stop that?" You yell upwards, hoping that verbal abuse might be the correct way to vent your frustrations for once.\n\n//Stop what? My helpful advice?//\n\n"You're NOT HELPFUL."\n\n//Would you like me to stop talking?//\n\nYou hesitated. Sure, the robot irritated you, but you'll probably be a lot worse off it you told it to screw off.\n\n"I would LIKE you to tell me how to open these doors!" You call through gritted teeth. \n\n//There are two keys.//\n\n"There are three doors..." You mutter.\n\n//I know that.//\n\nGreat. Now it's mimicking my voice. You sigh, willing your patience to stretch just a little more. The blood beneath your feet reminded you of its importance.\n\n//I have the two keys.//\n\n"Well how dO YOU EXPECT ME TO GET THEM?" You snarl.\n\n//Simple.//\n\n[[Turn Around]]

You make a decent effort to pick up the snarling girl, even steeling yourself as her claws carved angry red streaks in your arms. <<set $Life = $Life - 1>>\n\nNow what?\n\n[[Throw It]]\n[[Strangle It]]

Before the impulse is fully registered in your conscious mind, you hear a loud crack and a wet gurgle beneath your feet. You look down.\n\nYou have planted your foot across the little girl's throat. Deep red liquids leak from her equally crimson lips. You struggle to stop yourself from throwing up.\n\n[[Congratulations!]]

Your question comes out as a weak groan. You can already see spots dancing in front of your eyes.\n\n//Oh right. Almost forgot to activate it.//\n\nThe little girl gives a phlegm-coated gurgle. You flinch. You have no strength to fend off another attack. Was this a trap?\n\nShe coughs, and a small key is ejected from her mouth. A trail of spittle follows it, but the colour of the key is clear.\n\n<<if $Pocket_Knife eq "yes">>[[Pick Up the Black Key]]<<else>>[[Pick Up the White Key]]<<endif>>\n<<if $Life gte 2>>[[No]]<<endif>>

Let's see if I have anything useful, you think to yourself. You dig through your pockets, fumbling for anything familiar to cling onto, to reassure yourself of your existence.\n\n//Your personal belongings will be available for you once you leave.//\n\nYou stop fumbling through your pockets.\n\nIt is genuinely taking quite a bit of effort to not yell at that omniscient voice.\n\n[[Examine the Doors]]\n[[Yell At the Omniscient Voice]]

You yell.\n\n//4//\n\nWell, it was worth a try. \n\n//3//\n\n"Can you at least tell me what's going on?"\n\n//2//\n\nValiant efforts were made, you thought.\n\n//1//\n\nHere goes, whatever it is.\n\n[[0]]

That's a real meaningful question to ask when you're in a dark room with what seems to be nothing more than a vague, yet menacing robot. Real meaningful.\n\n[[Where am I?]]

Before the girl monster could do any more damage to your mangled wrists, you fling her as far as you possible could. She lands with a dull thump, her neck bending against the ground in an odd angle. You hear a hissing noise coming from her lips as she pulls herself up, quivering. <<set $Clone = $Clone - 1>>\n\n[[Finish Her Off]]\n[[Last Ditch Effort]]

<<silently>>\n<<set $Pocket_Knife = "no">>\n<<set $Black_Key = "no">>\n<<set $White_Key = "no">>\n<<set $Life = 5>>\n<<set $Clone = 5>>\n<<endsilently>>\n\n-Note-\nYou are not immortal, if that weren't obvious to you before. Keep that in mind.\n-EndNote-\n\n//Life is only a dance\nBreathing is just a rythme//\nA robotic, saccharine voice sends a chill down your spine. Your eyes snap open as if you had been electrocuted. Your pupils contract and dilate in the darkness.\n\n//Good morning, dear.//\nThe wet, blue-green notes of the mechanical voice echoed in your ears. You pull yourself up, the floor slippery with spots of dampness. \n\n//You woke up a little earlier than I expected.//\n\n[[Where am I?]]\n[[Who am I?]]\n[[What.]]

You call out your question, not sure which direction to face.\n\n//Irrelevant.//\n\n"Who are you?"\n\n//Irrelevant.//\n\n"Where are you?"\n\n//Irrelevant.//\n\n"Are you just going to dismiss everything I say as irrelevant?"\n\n//Irrel... Yes.//\n\nYou fall silent, a sickly cocktail of frustration and agitation brewing in your chest.\n\n//Any more questions?//\n\nGod, that voice is starting to get on your nerves.\n\n"No." You reply, rolling your eyes.\n\n//Good. You should be able to start in five seconds.//\n\n//5//\n\n[[Wait!]]

The key is sucked into the door with a wet schulp, and you draw your hand back. You are simply too tired to put up any more of a reaction than an exhausted sigh.\n\nYes, some sleep would do you good.\n\nThe door opens. It is dark. You do not see beyond the outline of the door. The dark no longer frightens you. It used to, but now it does not. The dark smelled of warmth and the memory of coffee. \n\nYou step through the opening.\n\n//Goodnight!//\n\n~THE END: ALTERNATE~\n\n[[Restart?]]\n{Hint: See if you can kill the monster without the knife?}

//Pfffffft.//\n\nWhat? Is that voice... Laughing? You look up, not sure what to make of these circumstances.\n\n//HahahaHAHAHAHAHAHA!//\n\nThe laugh was shrill, a noise that scratched at your ears. You look around for the source of the voice, but the white walls seem to glare at you, their pale faces bland and silent.\n\n//I can't believe you actually fell for that!//\n\nYou shiver and hug yourself. What kind of a sick joke was that? Cut someone open?\n\n//I mean, it'd be awfully entertaining to see you actually do it. It's a shame you're such a coward.//\n\n"I'm not a coward!" You shout, your fingers digging into your arm.\n\n//Of course, that is not actually the experiment. The guy before you actually tried that, y'know.//\n\nThe voice continued on with glee. You want to scream at it to stop, but no sound comes from your throat.\n\n//He took the knife and rammed it right in her neck! That's not even the funniest thing. He didn't even get to kill her!//\n\nGod please shut up. You screech internally, feeling as if your head was about to burst.\n\n//So. Here comes my favourite part of the experiment.//\n\nThe voice echoed faintly. You look at the girl again. She stands motionless, like one of those medieval suits of armour that guards the opening to some foreboding fortress. It felt as if you were staring into the opening of some great hole.\n\nEmpty.\n\nThe girl's hand jerked.\n\nA gutteral noise ripped itself from her mouth. You could swear that noise was not human. The little girl's fingertips begin to redden, as if she had touched a hot iron. The inflamed whorls begin to pale, and the skin burst to reveal sharp claws in place of bones. The little girl lunged for you, a small animal with nothing to lose.\n\n[[Run]]\n[[Make For the Pocket Knife]]\n[[Kick That Motherfricker]]

"Hey! Are there any other exits?"\n\n//There are three.//\n\n"Yes, I know that." You reply, almost snapping. "Are there any other exits OTHER than those three."\n\n//No.//\n\nYou fall silent, wondering if there was some way to find the source of the voice and inflict a horribly painful death upon it.\n\n[[Examine the Doors]]\n[[Search Your Pockets]]\n[[Yell At the Omniscient Voice]]

The little girl's spittle stains your fingers. Wisps of blood stain it a weak red, like that of watered wine.\n\nI did it. You think. I can go now.\n\n[[Open the White Door]]\n<<if $Life gte 2>>[[No]]<<endif>>

The black door felt slightly grainy, cool to the touch. There was a small keyhole, but no handle. \n\nDammit. Where am I supposed to find the key? You sigh and move on to the white door.\n\nThe white door is similar in texture to the black door, but somehow a little... Warmer. It also had the same small keyhole under the absence of a handle.\n\nYou hesitated to approach the mirrored door. It's not that you are particularly unattractive. It's just... There is something cold about it, almost...\n\nMechanic?\n\nThere is no keyhole on this one, you thought to yourself.\n\n//Are you done staring at the exits?//\n\n[[Yell At the Omniscient Voice]]

A small girl in a white dress stood behind you. Truth be told, you could not quite tell if she/he was actually a girl. It was just your first instinct. She had no hair, and she was too young to be identified by her physique. You are an honourable person and therefore will not use invasive methods of checking. \n\nHer presence chilled you, as if someone had brushed an ice cube down the nape of your neck. She appeared to be a normal girl except for her eyes. They were twin pits of black, with no sclera to be found. Her skin was deathly white, like that of paper.\n\n//Reach down her throat and pull it out.//\n\n"NO." You screech, feeling your stomach somersault in place. "I'm not going to reach down some girl's throat and fish out a goddamned key! That is biologically impossible!"\n\n//There is another way, if you want.//\n\nWell, whatever it is, it will be better than THAT. You think to yourself, the queasy feeling growing in your chest.\n\n//Cut her open.//\n\nAnd you were wrong.\n\nA small pocketknife dropped from the ceiling and landed in between you and the girl. You looked up only to see the last glimpse of a trap door closing.\n\n//Don't worry. She's just a clone.//\n\nThe little girl continued to stare at you... No, stare PAST you. It was as if her gaze pinned you to the opposing wall.\n\n"N-No... I can't do this." You stutter to yourself.\n\n[[There Is Always a Third Option]]

You extend your leg awkwardly, but the force of your body manages to leave a red print on the little girl's face as she falls backwards. Any trace of remorse disappeared when you looked to her claws, dripping with her own blood and adorned by stray pieces of ripped skin. <<set $Clone = $Clone - 2>>\n\n//That's more like it!//\n\nGod, will that thing shut up already?\n\n[[Make For the Pocket Knife]]\n[[Punch It Like You Mean It]]