You waddle as fast as your feathery limbs can take you, but the beast's powerful claws dig deep into the ground, pushing him further, faster. Your chest tightens unable to take in clean oxygen through the creature's toxic stench. Your head feels light. The oak tree, your singular and unexplained promise of safety, begins to fade away, as your vision turns to bright whiteness...

A memory returns to you. When or where it came from, you don't know, but it feels real. A frail, aged man rests in a worn and heavily patched chair with his hands clasped in his lap. A tear traces a deep wrinkle down his kind face, as his sad eyes delve deep into your own.

"The sordid vulpes is coming for you. To survive you must return to me when the chance is provided. But now, it's time for me to go." He slowly bows his head as if to pray and dies.

A violent pain in the back knocks you to the ground. This is no memory. A black claw rips into your arm and throws you over. Now you see him, a huge fiery red monster nashing sharp teeth.

Back behind you, you hear someone yell, "Get up! Run!"

A lazor beem catches the beast in the shoulder, and it falls back. It throws its back and gives an eerie wail. Now's your chance!

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This, along with "Wheeeeel ooooof pooouuultry!" and "You wake up with a throbbing headache", was one of the three (!) stories I had on my original CYOA site back in 1999. It's here for nostalgia's sake, but it turned out pretty funny the first time around, so why not give it another go? :) (Note: The root branch was written before our 140-character minimum came in. Just so you know. :)

updated Sep 9 '08 by nickb