It is an old book, as most adventure-prompting books are, bound in leather and brass, pages worn at their edges and tarnished tan. It is held, however, in young hands; soft and supple where the book was tough and tired, vibrant and vivacious to the opposite's dull demeanour.

What is it?

A book, you dolt.

The thoughts pass effortlessly between the two minds. They do, after all, share a body. Well, not really, but the two minds do belong to twins, who look enough alike to be considered either or.

I know that, eejit, but what kind of book?

"An old one," came a young boy's voice. "That's all I can tell from the looks. Now open it, or I will."

Pushy-pushy.

Agreed.

So the book was opened. Rather unceremoniously, I must say, without the pomp that such an occasion would, in other places, merit. The book was simply knocked against the wood floor until the old hinges of brass gave way, then laid out and leafed through.

"The pages are blank," the boy's voice cutting the silence.

How cliché.

But while all three faces were fixed on the unfolded pages before them, shadows crept behind them, empty as the book. They dance upon the walls, like the castings of a candle, bending where they meet the ceiling, the floor. But they go unnoticed, the emptiness of the book instead enchanting the children.

It must do something.

Again, the boy, the only voice in the otherwise silent room, saying, "We'll just have to wait it out, out-wit it."

It isn't alive, you loon. Not like a magic book-

"A grimoire," came the verbal interjection.

-a grimoire or anything.

A pity, as the dance of the shadows is so much more mind-filling than the plain pages.

Until, of course, a wayward shadow limb reaches across the book, causing the quick contortion of the three bodies; three heads atop three necks twisting to view the scene as three pairs of eyes widen at the spectacle.

A pity, too, that not one saw the word that stitched itself across one such blank page after the shadow crossed it.

RATE THIS BRANCH!

Author Guidance for This Story

Prepare yourself for an exploration in vocabulary! And beside you in this exploration are Josua, Kate, and Lynne: the discoverers of a dusty old book filled with pages upon pages of nothing.

For the time being, at least.

Each branch is given a title of a peculiar or interesting word, with the ensuing branch making use of that word (in any form so long as it is still recognizable as the original word). However, the story must still continue, albeit in a somewhat spontaneous fashion.

The trio is in their house, having found the curious book in the attic, where you always find curious things. Where else would they be?

Have at it!

Footnote: Yes, his name is Josua. No H. I fully intended this, it is not a glorified typo. And have fun with Kate and Lynne's names being said together.

PS. I am completely aware of the fact that some branches are in a different tense than the first one. To avoid further confusion, please stick to the tense that the author previous to you used. That means you may be writing in the present tense or the past tense. I've yet to see a future tense story pop up. Let's hope one doesn't, 'aight?

updated Aug 13, 2009 by JackRubashevskiy