text: > Look around
  The stars above are still whizzing by wildly.
  
  The couch has been torn apart: Slimy chunks of foam litter the floor. The TV and microwave have been smashed and tossed across the room.
  
  Passages through the rock lead east, west, and south.
  
  The professor's heavy breathing—or whatever that noise is—filters
  in
  through the west tunnel.
  
  > go east
  It should be safe in here; the professor can't fit through the narrow passages.
  
  On your bed is a pile of clothes and trash. Your lenticular poster is glued to the ceiling.
  
  Tunnels lead east, west, and south.
  
  "If you stop being such a coward right now, I promise I'll bite your head off first."
  
  > Search clothes
  You can't think of anything in there that would be any use.
  
  "Come here!"
  
  The clicking of claws or fangs echoes through the east tunnel.
  
  > get the trash
  Nothing in there is worth taking.
  
  You hear the professor cough something up, then swallow it.
  
  > go south
  The telescope seems to be intact, but you can't see much of it from in here.
  
  Tunnels lead north, east, and west.
  
  "I can hear you. What are you doing out there?"
  
  > Go east
  Everything seems to be more or less where it should be, but all the interfaces are blinking with different warnings.
  
  There are ways out to the north, east, and west.
  
  "Do you think if you'll wait long enough, someone will come rescue you?"
  
  > Go north
  Professor Thezh is just down that tunnel. You can hear it rubbing against the walls. And you don't want to meet it face to face.
  
  > search the amphisbaena
  You find nothing of interest.
  
  "I'm so hungry... Please take pity on your poor old professor."
  
  > go east
  The telescope seems to be intact, but you can't see much of it from in here.
  
  Tunnels lead north, east, and west.
  
  > go north
  It should be safe in here; the professor can't fit through the narrow passages.
  
  On your bed is a pile of clothes and trash. Your lenticular poster is glued to the ceiling.
  
  Tunnels lead east, west, and south.
  
  > Go south
  The telescope seems to be intact, but you can't see much of it from in here.
  
  Tunnels lead north, east, and west.
  
  "I'm getting tired of waiting..."
  
  > look in the dish
  You find nothing of interest.
  
  "Come here!"
  
  > look under the dish
  You find nothing of interest.
  
  "If you stop being such a coward right now, I promise I'll bite your head off first."
  
  > Climb dish
  Little is to be achieved by that.
  
  "Do you think if you'll wait long enough, someone will come rescue you?"
  
  > take the dish
  That's not something you can carry around.
  
  "Come here!"
  
  > look at the telescope
  If the accident had been a little worse, the dish might have been flung off of the side of the asteroid, and this room would have its own skylight (and you'd be violently sucked into space).
  
  > go to the west
  The professor's amphisbaena is upended, tossed into a corner. The floor is wet.
  
  Passages lead north, east, south, and west.
  
  > look at the board
  Something large must have scraped against the chalkboard, erasing several of Thezh's notes.
  
  "If you stop being such a coward right now, I promise I'll bite your head off first."
  
  > go south
  The tank is empty. None of the monitors are active.
  
  A trail of slime wends its way around the tank, up to your feet.
  
  > look at the tank
  Numerous pumps and monitors are hooked up to the professor's pod. They seem to have stopped working.
  
  > go north
  The professor's amphisbaena is upended, tossed into a corner. The floor is wet.
  
  Passages lead north, east, south, and west.
  
  "Come here!"
  
  > go to the north
  The stars above are still whizzing by wildly.
  
  The couch has been torn apart: Slimy chunks of foam litter the floor. The TV and microwave have been smashed and tossed across the room.
  
  Passages through the rock lead east, west, and south.
  
  "I'm getting tired of waiting..."
  
  > examine the microwave
  It looks like the professor threw this around a few times before moving on.
  
  You can hear the professor's bulk slithering through the tunnels to the west.
  
  > take it
  That's not something you can carry around.
  
  The clicking of claws or fangs echoes through the west tunnel.
  
  > examine the alarm
  The alarm clock is no longer set to anything.
  
  You hear the professor cough something up, then swallow it.
  
  > Go east
  It should be safe in here; the professor can't fit through the narrow passages.
  
  On your bed is a pile of clothes and trash. Your lenticular poster is glued to the ceiling.
  
  Tunnels lead east, west, and south.
  
  "Do you think if you'll wait long enough, someone will come rescue you?"
  
  > turn on the alarm
  A plan is forming in your head—but for it to work, you'll have to
  take
  the alarm to a place where Thezh can reach it.
  
  The clicking of claws or fangs echoes through the east tunnel.
  
  > Go west
  The stars above are still whizzing by wildly.
  
  The couch has been torn apart: Slimy chunks of foam litter the floor. The TV and microwave have been smashed and tossed across the room.
  
  Passages through the rock lead east, west, and south.
  
  > Go south
  The professor's amphisbaena is upended, tossed into a corner. The floor is wet.
  
  Passages lead north, east, south, and west.
  
  "I'm so hungry... Please take pity on your poor old professor."
  
  > go south
  The tank is empty. None of the monitors are active.
  
  A trail of slime wends its way around the tank, up to your feet.
  
  > drop the alarm
  Dropped.
  
  "Do you think if you'll wait long enough, someone will come rescue you?"
  
  > turn on the alarm
  You fumble with the alarm clock's screen, and set it for some random number of seconds. Then you toss into the the far corner of the room.
  
  "I'm so hungry... Please take pity on your poor old professor."
  
  You'd better get a move on.
  
  > go north
  The professor's amphisbaena is upended, tossed into a corner. The floor is wet.
  
  Passages lead north, east, south, and west.
  
  > Go east
  The telescope seems to be intact, but you can't see much of it from in here.
  
  Tunnels lead north, east, and west.
  
  "If you stop being such a coward right now, I promise I'll bite your head off first."
  
  > Go north
  It should be safe in here; the professor can't fit through the narrow passages.
  
  On your bed is a pile of clothes and trash. Your lenticular poster is glued to the ceiling.
  
  Tunnels lead east, west, and south.
  
  Thezh sniffs: "Back in your hidey-hole? I wish you'd come out of there. Your uncooperativeness is tremendously frustrating."
  
  > wait
  A second ticks by.
  
  > Wait
  "Would you stop that?" Thezh whines. You realize you've been
  biting your fingernail.
  
  > wait for a while
  Another second ticks by.
  
  The alarm goes off. It beeps incredibly loudly.
  
  "Will you please turn off that insufferable machine?" Thezh groans.
  
  > wait for a while
  The noise is unbearable.
  
  "Turn that off right now, or you will live to regret it," Thezh whines. The alarm keeps beeping, seemingly more shrill than before.
  
  > Wait
  The noise is unbearable.
  
  "Is this a trick? Are you trying to trick me?" Thezh hisses through the tunnels, struggling to be heard over the pings of the alarm clock. "You really are a stupid brat. And desperate. And cruel."
  
  > go to the east
  Professor Thezh is just down that tunnel. You can hear it rubbing against the walls. And you don't want to meet it face to face.
  
  "This isn't—" Thezh wails in pain. "This isn't going to work. I'm going to outlast you. You'll turn off that alarm, and then I will find you, and then—" It howls again.
  
  > Wait
  The noise is unbearable.
  
  Its rage boiling over, the professor screams even louder than the alarm—and you hear it stampeding through the tunnels.
  
  You strain your ears: The alarm goes on ringing, muffled by the limbs of something trying to rip it to pieces.
  
  > go to the east
  The web of tunnels extends in all directions—but the shuttle bay is just north from here.
  
  > Go north
  Professor Thezh's skiff is parked here, beneath the gigantic pressure gate.
  
  > enter the skiff
  You jump into the driver's seat.
  
  The key is in the ignition. The garage door opener is just above the windshield.
  
  > turn key
  You turn the key. The engines fire up—and then they sputter out. What's wrong?
  
  Oh, the parking brake is engaged.
  
  > disengage brake
  You push the lever down, and the skiff shifts slightly.
  
  Then the whole asteroid shakes.
  
  Something has collided with the shutter between the garage and the tunnels.
  
  > 7
  Okay. Noted.
  Okay. Noted.Now it is time for the next author to step forward and share the next of the evening's unbearable entertainments. It is Victor Atencio—and he looks great!
  
  While he's approaching the podium I try to explain, quietly: Victor Atencio is an absolute genius of gruesomeness. They call him "the van Gogh of Gore." But he suffered from debilitating weight problems, to the point that he had to stop writing while he pursued various treatments and underwent various surgeries. I also heard—Why is someone shushing me? Oh, he's starting.
  
  "It's been a while since I visited Castle Balderstone," Victor says, and people start applauding him, but he waves it away. "I'm excited to get back in the game, and I hope you'll forgive me if I'm a little rusty."
  
  Everybody chuckles. I try to whisper to you the juicy rumor that I heard, but Victor goes on:
  
  "What I've brought tonight is a new piece, in a classic format. I don't aim to surprise—Only to terrify."
  
  We all chuckle again, now a little nervously, and Victor begins to read...
  
  Wayne and Yvette are a little bit late, but that just means more quality time for you and little Rowan.
  
  The walls are painted with mountains and pines. The wide window fills the room with sunlight.
  
  Rowan is asleep in his crib, his brow furrowed by the itty-bitty concerns that trouble babies.
  
  Your oxygen concentrator hums away. It's not bothering the baby at all. He probably finds it very soothing.
  
  > examine Rowan
  He's beautiful. He looks more like his mother than his father, but you won't tell Wayne that.
  
  > About yourself
  You're through accomplishing things of your own-you kept yourself busy for long enough. These years are for resting, and enjoying the accomplishments of others: Of your children, and your grandchildren and your beautiful great-grandson.
  
  > look at the window
  Outside the nursery is a lovely April day. It's no wonder Wayne and Yvette are taking so long.
  
  Wayne and Yvette's cat strolls into the room.
  
  > examine the cat
  Yvette loves this cat, and the loves her—and it hates everything
  else.
  
  > look at the crib
  Rowan's little kingdom.
  
  > look at the oxygen
  Wherever you go, your oxygen follows, and every minute of the day, you have a tube stuck in your nose. You tell the kids you've gotten used to it.
  
  > look at Rowan
  He's beautiful. He looks more like his mother than his father, but you won't tell Wayne that.
  
  The cat darts between your legs, hisses furiously, and digs its fangs into your calf. Then it disappears.
  
  > examine the calf
  Four little pinpricks on your calf. It looks like you're starting to bleed.
  
  There's a dark shape in the crib: The cat is sitting on Rowan.
  
  > take the cat
  As you lean over the crib, the cat leaps away.
  
  You place a hand on Rowan's forehead. He seems to be fine.
  
  Then a horrible hissing noise fills the nursery, and Rowan starts squirming.
  
  You turn and see the cat, toying with your oxygen concentrator: The tube connected to your nose has been knocked loose.
  
  > take the tube
  That cat is between you and your machine.
  
  The cat arches its back, puffs out its fur, and seems to grow several inches. It hisses at you, almost screaming.
  
  > open the window
  The cat rushes around you to block the window.
  
  The cat continues to grow, its screeches getting louder, its claws and teeth becoming longer. You stagger to the floor; your chest feels tight.
  
  > take the tube
  The cat jumps back in front of the oxygen concentrator.
  
  The cat towers over you, growing larger and larger. You can't get up. You can't breathe.
  
  > wake rowan
  The cat leaps between you and the crib.
  
  The cat is huge. It fills the room.
  
  Your vision swims. Your heart is going so fast—Your throat is so tight.
  
  You die of fright.
  
  > About you
  The cat steps over your body, over the crib, toward the window.
  
  > examine the cat
  It bats at the window, and shatters it effortlessly.
  
  > ask the cat about the cat
  The cat squeezes out of the window, destroying the surrounding nursery wall.
  
  > look at Rowan
  You can't get any closer to the crib.
  
  The cat steps outside. As it walks across the lawn, it goes on growing until it's as tall as the house.
  
  > About yourself
  The cat walks into the street, trampling Wayne's car. A child screams.
  
  > Exit
  Rowan stirs, but does not wake.
  
  You are dead.
  
  The cat continues along the street, heading downtown.
  
  "
  
  Naturally the author sitting right next to us has to raise her hand. "Is Mittens the name of the cat?" she asks. Of course it's the
  name of the cat you ridiculous woman.
  
  "Uh, I guess it must be!" Victor answers. Everyone laughs, ha ha ha. Anyway, what I was gonna say was—"How did you find your way into the character of the protagonist, a great-grandparent?" asks an incredibly loud author sitting behind us.
  
  "Ah. Well, that's kind of personal," says Victor, and everything gets quiet.
  
  The silence is so complete that I can't whisper anything to you.
  
  "How about another round of applause for Victor Atencio?" asks the moderator, and everybody claps, and Victor bows again, and now I can finally tell you: There was a rumor that Victor got his nose done while he was having all those other surgeries, and now that I see him in person he definitely did get his nose done.
  
  So, how much, on a scale of 1 to 10, did you like that story? The one Victor told, not the one about his medical history.
  
  > 4
  Okay. Noted.
  Okay. Noted.Now it is time for the next author to step forward and share the next of the evening's insidious entertainments. It is Eddie Carlyle! I gasp, and grab your wrist. You tug at your hand until I let go. I am too anxious to apologize.
  
  None of these authors scare me like Eddie Carlyle does. No avenue of horror is off-limits to Carlyle. He sniffs at taboo; he rolls his eyes at the critics every time they say he's gone too far. I've only read the Wikipedia synopses of his works, and they still give me nightmares.
  
  Ed looks down at the lectern and coughs.
  
  "I heard that at this year's meeting, we could share stories that weren't, you know, Halloween-spooky." Wait, what?
  
  "And, well, the invitation said that one of the themes we could pick instead was Día de Muertos, or, Mexican folklore and
  mythology in general. So I chose to write something along those lines. And, it's based on one of my favorite Bob Dylan songs."
  
  The other authors are glancing around the room. You and I are glancing at each other.
  
  Ed swallows loudly, still looking down at the lectern. "So, I guess, for a Castle Balderstone story this is kind of... experimental, but I hope you'll enjoy it." Well, it's an Eddie Carlyle story. It's probably at least a little scary.
  
  He coughs again, and then he begins to read...
  
  Adapted by Eddie Carlyle
  from a song by Bob Dylan
  
  The horse paces slowly across the sands, worn out from a long day of riding. You clutch Roberto's cape and screw your eyes shut. You are weary for sleep, but sleep is impossible under this bright sun, atop this staggering horse.
  
  > About yourself
  Your eyes are red from sleeplessness, and strained from so much squinting. Your face and your dress are coated in dust. You feel lucky that Roberto cannot see you.
  
  > examine roberto
  Roberto is a handsome man, with gentle eyes and a curly beard. But, sitting behind him, all you can see are his hat and his cape.
  
  You don't remember him wearing that cape before.
  
  > look at the cape
  The cape Roberto wears is covered in dust.
  
  But why isn't his guitar strapped to his back?
  
  > examine the horse
  This horse appeared with Roberto last night, when he woke you up and begged you to leave with him. The animal seemed just as surprised as you were to be rushing out of town in the middle of the night. Now, it seems just as tired as you are.
  
  > ask Roberto about the guitar
  You ask Roberto what happened to his guitar.
  
  "Ah! I sold that guitarra to Pablo, the son of the
  panadero—for this!"
  
  With a triumphant flourish, he produces from his cape a fist-sized loaf of bread. "I was saving it for la noche, but you have
  had such a long viaje. Here you go, mi amor." He
  presses the bread into your hand.
  
  > examine the bread
  How much was Roberto's guitar worth? How much food will the two of you need to reach Durango before you starve to death? You can't focus on these questions. You're starving.
  
  > eat the bread
  You gobble it down. You feel a little less exhausted—but even sleepier.
  
  And now the sun, which had seemed to hang just overhead for so long, finally seems to be descending.
  
  > examine sun
  Roberto chides you: "Don't look directly into el sol,
  Magdalena. It will hurt your ojos." How did he know what you
  were looking at?
  
  > Clean dress
  The blue dress is fine.
  
  > check your inventory
  You are carrying:
  a blue dress (being worn)
  
  > ask Roberto about the horse
  Roberto clicks his tongue nervously. "A friend lent this fine
  caballo to me. I don't know when I will be able to repay him,
  after we reach Durango. But he already owed me un favor,
  so..."
  
  > ask Roberto about the durango
  Roberto sighs blissfully. "When we reach Durango, we'll—First, we'll go to the corrida, and sit in the shade drinking
  tequila, and we'll watch the young torero at his
  violent work. And the very next day, we will find the padre
  at his little church, and we'll finally be married."
  
  You hold Roberto tightly around his waist, and he pets your delicate hand.
  
  > ask Roberto about the marriage
  Roberto cocks his head. "What was that, my little one? I'm not sure I heard you correctamente." (Usually this means Roberto doesn't
  want to talk about something.)
  
  You lurch to a halt. "Magdalena!" whispers Roberto, pointing across the brush: A few crumbling walls sit in the shadow of a hillside. "We can make campamento there."
  
  He urges the horse toward the ruins.
  
  The sun is very low, casting long purple shadows over the dust. There was a city here, centuries ago.
  
  Roberto ties the horse to a withered tree, eyeing the hills above warily.
  
  One nearby building seems more or less intact.
  
  > examine the building
  Nothing about the building gives any clue as to what it might be.
  
  > look at the tree
  The tree would snap easily if the horse decided to run off.
  
  > ask Roberto about the building
  As you're wondering how to bring up the subject, Roberto speaks.
  
  "Querida, you must find a place where we will be
  escondidos. Take this linterna, and I will keep
  watch." He hands you a dented lantern and resumes scanning the horizon.
  
  > enter the building
  The sagging walls lean over an altar. There is no roof, and the stone glows indigo under the stars.
  
  In the back wall is a narrow archway.
  
  > examine the altar
  A slab of mottled stone, carved with pagan icons. The only shape you recognize is a snarling, wide-eyed jaguar.
  
  > turn on the lantern
  It takes a few tries, but you manage to light the lantern.
  
  Maybe this was the apartment of the temple priest.
  
  In the center of the room is a stone stairway, descending into darkness.
  
  Your lantern's light catches on something in the corner: A black shard.
  
  > examine the shard
  The flat side seems polished, like a mirror, but the material is completely black. Even in the darkness you can see that the fractured edge is deadly sharp.
  
  > take it
  You lean down and reach for the shard, as carefully as you can—but it slices your fingertip just the same. A drop of blood splashes on the mottled floor.