By the Pond
Pick Your Peril: The Hero of Mudtown
(This is part of a series of choose-your-own-adventure articles. If you want to start from the beginning, click here.)
The weather has been too pleasant to pass up, and the fish are biting. You’ve had such an enjoyable morning, it couldn’t hurt to stay a little longer.
You decide to stay at the pond and catch a few more fish. The trout tugging at the end of your line is reeled in quickly, and you’re able to catch another before you slowly drift into a tranquil sleep on the banks of the pond. You are completely oblivious to the rod slipping from your fingers and the hours passing by as you lay in peaceful slumber.
You awake with a start, taking notice of the fading daylight as you rub the sleep out of your eyes. Something in the middle of the lake catches your attention as you sit up.
A beautiful sword, emerging from the water. It rises into the air and hovers just above the surface. You stare, awe-struck, at the glimmering sword. It seems to be calling your name, begging you to take it. You are completely enchanted by it.
There is a splash, and you suddenly realize that you’re already standing ankle-deep in the water near the shore. You take a step forward, and then another, steadily wading out into the pond. Your feet soon leave the bottom and you are swimming towards the weapon. It is the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. It must be made of the purest silver, the rubies on its hilt gleam and twinkle as they catch the last light of the setting sun. The blade itself seems to glow from within.
The sun dips behind the hills as you near the center of the pond. In the dwindling light, you suddenly notice how cold the water is, and look to see how much farther you have to swim. In the absence of sunshine, the sword is rusty, dull, and dingy. A far cry from the blade that lured you out here. As the darkness grows, you can see the sword is not actually hovering, but held in the air by a spectral woman. She drops the decrepit weapon with a small splash, and flies towards you, hands outstretched, malevolent grin on her ghastly face.
The specter passes through you with a scream and a chill, plunging deep into the water. You turn and attempt to swim back to shore, but are grabbed by the ankles and yanked under the water. You attempt to fight off your attacker, despite knowing it is pointless. You kick and scream and try to break free as the ghost drags you deeper and deeper, but the only sign of your distress are a few bubbles breaking the surface.
YOU ARE DEAD
