text: [Themes: horror, serious, horror]
  
  Shit, ouch. Another sharp pain as your left leg meets the ground.. However, this is no ordinary left leg. Oh, no. No, good sir, it's the left leg. The left leg with the bad ankle. Which you've realized more and more, which is really just step-by-step, as you work your way back toward the cabin, re-tracing your steps through the forest. Though the footprints heading away from civilization are a little more evenly spaced, a little less staggered, than those headed back. Though, you would hesitate to really call it 'civilization'.
  
  Mike insisted you come with him, all the way to a place called Dripping Springs; Which just happens to not be on any map, anywhere, and has a population of less than two dozen crazed survivalists, tree-huggin' hippies, and your regular, run-of-the-mill, plain old rednecks. This place is nothing like the city, and you can't stand it. Mostly because you don't fit in, which is obvious considering that you couldn't go for a quick jog without rolling your ankle over a large tree root.
  
  And, about that rolled ankle.. Yeah, it rolled. A lot.. You were only a mile from the campers, and it's still hell to get back there.
  
  Mike.. Yeah, your buddy from work. The same buddy that said camping would be, you believe he said, "Good for the soul." and that it would, "Take away some of that big-city stress." Well, he was right; Work is the last thing on my mind. The first thing on my mind, of course, is the mosquito nibbling my scalp.. Ouch.. Actually, ankle just took first-place. Mosquitos are gonna have to be number two on the list.
  
  You can see the side of the camper through the trees, mostly tinted green and brown from years of sitting in the woods, but still showing enough white to remind you of it's original color. You're a hundred feet from the camp site, where you can finally sit down and g-
  
  *Wham*
  
  *Thud*
  
  "You son-of-a-bitch, fuck you!"
  
  That sounded like Mike.
  
  [Author's Note: As a necrotic disease with paranoid, schizophrenic, violence-oriented side effects sweeps across the Fairmont City and Barnes Bennett River area, survival is the only option other than infection. This is my first story-game. Comments, criticism, etc. will be appreciated.]
  
  > forget the ankle, you should see what's up
  You work up to a slow jog, and cover fifty of the last ninety feet to Mike's. He's sitting on a log outside the camper, holding his arm. You can see another figure running, almost sprinting, in the opposite direction of you. This can't be good, you pick up your pace, quickly reaching your friend.. er.. work-friend?
  
  > look at Mike's arm
  "Hey, you're back!" He stands up, and peels the sticky, blood soaked washcloth from his forearm.
  
  "Mike, what in the-", you start to ask, but he cuts you off, "Some crazy fuck, he comes running from the woods, and he fuckin' bites me!"
  
  He takes a moment, breathes deeply, and continues, "I grabbed a rock and beat the hell out of him, then he ran.. You prob'ly saw him, right?" He looks down and notices a small slug on his arm. He flicks it away, and sits back down.
  
  "Yeah, he ran down toward the town," You take another look at his bite-wound. It looks bad. You take a step toward the car.
  
  > say "Mike, we gotta get you to a doctor.. That thing'll get infected out here."
  You both get in the car, buckle your seatbelts, and prepare for the thirty-minute, bumpy, winding drive from Dripping Springs to the nearest town big enough to have any sort of doctor: Spearville.
  
  Mike, the only one of you two that knows the way back to real civilization from this hellhole, points you in the right direction, and the two of you head down the twisting dirt trail in his 2001 Subaru.
  
  "Take this next left.. Hey, why don't we turn on the radio?" Mike reaches for the dial..
  
  > say "No, leave the thing off. Nothing but that 'modern' pop, dance shit anyway."
  You leave the radio turned off and continue on the way into town.
  
  Eventually, you reach a 'Welcome to Spearville' sign.
  
  Mike looks agitated, "Yeah, yeah. This is good. The doctor is up ahead. Lots of medicine.."
  
  You notice his wound is now surrounded by a purple rash and blisters.
  
  > He needs medical attention. Quickly.
  There's a stop sign coming up, you lightly press the brakes, getting ready for a gradual stop.
  
  "What the fuck? Move, com'on, we need to go!" Mike is sweating, and starts looking around. Maybe a little paranoid? The infection getting to him?
  
  "Mike, it's a stop sign. I'm not gonna go barreling down the goddamn road, passing stops as I please. I'll try to hurry up, just calm down."
  
  His face shifts again. He isn't happy. You start to put pressure on the gas pedal, but-
  
  "Pull over! Fuck! I can walk faster than you're driving," He opens the door, and steps outside. His motion is sloppy, yet robotic. Cool, controlled movements that are overwhelmed by a spastic, anxious fear of death or zombification, as if it were a real thing.
  
  Behind him, maybe 50 feet away, you see a figure dart across a parking lot. Mike whips his body around, "That's the fucker that bit me!" He charges after the unknown figure. You couldn't tell if it was the right man, only Mike saw him close up. But, Mike wasn't thinking clearly.
  
  > Have to go catch Mike and get him some medical treatment.. Crap..
  You climb out of the car, being careful about your ankle, then walk toward the parking lot Mike dashed into. "Mike! Hey, Mike!" The parking is for a small convenience store. To your left, a half dozen homes. Right, the same thing, plus a small playground. Spearville is small, so small that with the exception of Dripping Springs, you've never been anyplace so quiet. Then,
  
  *Wham*
  
  *Thud*
  
  A familiar sound.. Mike got ahold of whoever that was.
  
  You speed up, jogging with a very slight limp. The ankle almost feels normal again. The *thud*s continue, meaning that someone's taking a decent beating. Then, you hear a different noise. A tearing? No, a squelching? Mike is just around the corner.
  
  > Need to investigate.
  Peeking around the corner, you can see Mike crouched over someone. Blood is leaking from the body underneath him, covering the rough, uneven texture of the concrete with a thick, smooth maroon pool. No ripples. No streams. Just a single, circular body of liquid expanding until the body is entirely bled out. Mike stands, and rapidly spins around to face you, losing his balance, but quickly recovering it.
  
  The corpse was a woman. The woman had a stomach. The corpse has a crater. A gaping pit of coiled intestine. It's almost as if there was never a life here. The image of a woman fades. All you see is a mangled pile of flesh.
  
  Mike opens his mouth, dripping blood and shouts, "I fucking killed that bastard! He bit me, and I killed him!" Then he went silent. You remained silent, in shock. The *plip* *plop* of the blood and saliva from his mouth hitting the pool below us alone broke the dead silence around us.
  
  This can't be the person that bit him.. Mike is wrong.. He went crazy. What the fuck?
  
  "Mike.. Mike, you.. uh.."
  
  "I found him! I did, I did, I killed the fuck. Killed the bastard fuck."
  
  > Have to run. He killed a woman. He'll kill you.
  You turn and run. You can hear him behind you, "Hey! Come back, I got him, we're safe! I killed, and killed him."
  
  You reach your car, and fumble around with the keys, searching for the right one.
  
  In the midst of the key's jingle, you can hear heavy footsteps.
  
  The door opens, and you rush to get out of here. Mike is a good work-friend. He's always been a cool guy, but murder? And sickness? Or insanity?
  
  > start driving. This is too much to handle.
  If you can get out of this town, Route 71 is five minutes away. From there, you can drive to Fairmont. Reach your apartment. Be free of this country-side bullshit.
  
  Still, the speed limit is 35mph, and a speeding ticket doesn't look so good. You get to a school zone, and slow to 15mph.. Now that you're slowed down, you're almost forced to observe the small, quiet town. It's 8am. It's a Wednesday. The school is empty. The streets are empty. The only signs of life are you, Mike (who isn't even in your rearview mirror anymore), and the crows.
  
  The gas gauge is almost at 'E'. You need to fill up the Subaru.
  
  > stop at the nearest gas station.
  You pull into a gas station, up alongside a gasoline pump. It's pump three, there are four pumps total. A large green sign reads 'Gas. Food. Beer.', a quick, easy summary. The parking area has five cars, not including yours, but there doesn't seem to be anyone inside, or outside the building.
  
  Maybe you should just leave. It's a little creepy, and looks abandoned anyway.. On the other hand, you've already made the mental commitment to get gas.
  
  > quit being paranoid and walk in. What do you expect from a gas station? A comforting atmosphere?
  The door opens when you pull it.. That's a start..
  
  You step inside, and look side to side. There isn't a single employee, yet the door is unlocked?
  
  > check the Employee bathroom?
  You step carefully toward the bathroom, remembering every movie you've seen with desolate convenience stores and gas stations. Occasionally stopping to listen, you press forward.
  
  *Clack clack*
  
  It came from the bathroom. Maybe someone's shoe meeting tile?
  
  The bathroom door swings open, and a man stumbles into an aisle from inside the restroom. He's on his hands and knees, struggling to stand all the way up. His black hoodie is faded and has drops and splashes of paint, bleach and mud on it. The hood conceals most of his face; however you can see that he's in his mid 40's, maybe early 50's, indicated by his weathered face and the grey streaks in his otherwise brown hair and goatee.
  
  When he finally stands, he lifts the hood away from his head.
  
  What was revealed made you sick.
  
  > What the hell is that?
  The left side of his face is covered by a slug-like creature the size of both your fists. It's latched onto, and partially embedded in the man's skull, perhaps feeding on his brain, or controlling him like a puppet. The purple discoloration, blisters, and open wounds on his skin looked similar to Mike's arm, but much, much worse. Half the skin on his jaw was gone, rotting away as the man still lives and breathes. The 8 inch long, pale skinned, purple veined, pulsing organism suddenly dug deeper into his head.
  
  "Arrgh," He collapses, grasping toward his head, but falling short with each clutch. The slug stops wriggling long enough for him to get to his feet..
  
  "I'll kill you.. You government fuck... Puttin' goddamn worms in my ears!" He takes two large steps toward you.
  
  You only have a moment to think. To your right, there's a metal rack with candy and snacks on it..
  
  > It's a weapon. Pick up the rack.
  The metal rack is held out in front of you, as the parasite's victim stomps forward. He closes in, and you jab outward, aiming the tip of the rack at his head. The rack collides with his face, including the slug-creature attached to him.
  
  He falls backward, and the parasite contracts, almost cringing at the pain (assuming it can feel pain) that you've caused it. It's host lands on his back, and you thrust the metal snack-rack down onto his face, hoping to kill the parasite and host in one blow.
  
  It works.
  
  The creature's rhythmic pulsing slows, eventually stopping. You can see where the rack penetrated it's pale, purple tinted flesh; which has begun to leak with a white and yellow pus. It separates from the man's body, allowing you to see it's 'face', which looks like a suction cup with teeth, and a thin, pointed tongue hanging out. Almost like a lamprey eel, but somehow more..disgusting?
  
  The eel's host stopped moving as well, apparently dead. His nose was collapsed by the two strikes, and you can see marks on his face from the metal grates on the rack, thin parallel red lines, breaking the skin in some spots. You can also see were the creature attached itself, a circular opening about 4 inches in diameter, and reaching deep into the host's head. Within the deepest portion of the cavernous hole that was drilled into his skull, you can see his brain. There is a small hole cut into the brain, just large enough to fit the slug's tongue-like appendage, maybe 1/16th of an inch wide.
  
  You're thankful to be alive, but still need to get gas. This encounter has only given you more reasons to leave Spearville.
  
  > go behind the counter and activate pump #2
  You walk out to your car, and realize you're parked at pump three, not two.
  
  You get inside the Subaru, turn the key, and drive around to the correct pump.
  
  After filling your tank, you get ready to leave this town. You need to get back to Fairmont.
  
  You get in, and buckle your seat belt.
  
  > Drive.
  You finally reach the highway, and head toward Fairmont. As you move along Route 71, you notice little pale, purple and red tinted worm-like creatures slowly slithering around on the road. As you move forward, weaving around the monsters, they increase in number.
  
  Cars are everywhere, abandoned by their owners.
  
  And their owners are scattered across the pavement.
  
  The only things walking are shells. Empty, dead people. Hosts.
  
  > The End
  This is the best possible ending. You've escaped Spearville, and reached Route 71.
  
  If a second game is created, it will most likely continue from this point.
  
  Any comments, questions, or criticism will be appreciated.
  
  Thank you for playing.
  
  -DMnv