text: [Themes: horror]
  
  I see the boat from far away in the fading twilight.
  
  The waves are heaving as I draw closer. It's a big yacht—one of those hundred footers that rich businessmen can rent just to have a party.
  
  I pull alongside and look up at the bulk of it. The Sable Rose, the boat's called. The sea rolls and tosses me like a lost lover.
  
  There's a ladder here.
  
  > investigate more
  I sail in a slow, lazy circle around the yacht. Other than a single open porthole, there is nothing interesting.
  
  I wonder if here's anyone home.
  
  > go back around
  The waves are heaving as I pull alongside and look up at the bulk of it. The Sable Rose, the boat's called. The sea rolls and tosses me like a lost lover.
  
  There's a ladder here.
  
  > The Sun Deck
  The place I'm at is called the Sun Deck. There's a group of deck chairs here, and a Jacuzzi that is green and gunky. This place looks dead.
  
  I turn left. There is an open door, leading to a downward staircase.[Themes: edutainment]
  
  Choose the protagonist whom you would like to guide.
  
  > Winston
  The man's eyes felt grainy, like he'd been asleep for a long time.
  
  He opened them slowly, prepared to be blinded by bright, white light, but was only met with darkness. Befuddled by this development, he gingerly moved his hands up to wipe at his face, cringing at the pain in his varicose ulcer.
  
  And that was how he realized that he was unshackled.
  
  Winston sat up, a mixture of shock and fear flashing through his mind. What was happening?
  
  He couldn't see much in the darkness... but he could barely make out the outline of the door. It seemed to be open.
  
  > look around the cell.
  Every bone in his body wanted to escape the room. But he knew it was a test. He knew O'Brien was watching him and by bolting he would go through more misery. He stayed put, looking around the repulsive room. His vision was hazy but he could make out the outline of another human being somewhere in the darkness. He blinked a few times, rapidly, trying to hone in on the figure, only to realize with a start that it was a skeleton.
  
  His varicose ulcer throbbed.
  
  > What's that thing on the ground?
  The stench of death was overpowering. His eyes were fixed upon a skeleton lying on the floor. The red sash of the Anti-Sex League was still hanging from the brittle bones. This was Julia's sash. Falling to his knees, he had never felt sympathy for another human until now. A small part of him wanted to mourn, but a larger part of him was relieved that it wasn't his own skeleton on the floor.
  
  > leave the room.
  It was a split second decision. Though weary, Winston with all his might, ignored the throbbing varicose ulcer as he dashed out the door and into a long, dark hallway. Although the hallway was extremely dark (he could barely tell the it apart from the room), and extremely frigid, he journeyed on, pumped with determination.
  
  > Is that a jail cell?
  The hallway had a public jail cell, looking slightly familiar. Inside was a small boy and an older man. They began howling once they saw Winston escape.
  
  Winston rushed over to them, pressing his finger to his lips. "SHHH!!!! Don't yell! Who are you?"
  
  A handsome man with dark eyes and a perpetual frown drew his knees to his chest, chastened. "I am Torvald of the House of Helmer, unjustly captured by the sinister and malevolent men who--"
  
  The little boy shot him a disgusted look, wiping at his crusty nose with a filthy fist. "Aw, shut up old man!" and then turned his gaze to Winston. "I'm Huck, Huck Finn. Can ya get us outta here? I've got appointments, ya know..."
  
  Winston paused, staring at them for a moment, and then shook his head. "N... No." and quickly walked away.
  
  "Hey!" Huck hollers after you, "But I gotta go fishing! Tom's waitin' for me!"
  
  > keep moving.
  Winston moved on forward, ignoring the other people in the jail cells. The shadow surrounding the hall seemed to grow, giving him a sense of claustrophobia. The faces of the prisoners were still at the front of his mind, but Winston knew that he could not dwell on the thought. What was important was to get out of this place alive and survive through this ordeal. He had no plan, only that of survival.. Suddenly, Winston heard the sound of footsteps approaching.
  
  tap, tap, tap
  
  It probably belonged to a guard on patrol and doing his rounds. Winton looked around frantically. The hall was narrow and there was no place to hide or run without alerting the guard of his presence. His heart filled with dread, and he could only wait in fear as the guard rounded the corner.
  
  tap, tap, tap... tap.
  
  As the guard turned, he spotted Winston and stopped. Surprise flitted through his eyes but he quickly schooled his face into a mask of indifference. Slowly and cautiously, the guard approached Winston.
  
  > talk to him.
  Winston faltered, his shoulder slouching in fear. What should he do? He could barely stand to talk to another person of authority, especially after his encounter with O'Brien and Big Brother. Heart palpitating violently, he emitted a weak croak as the guard drew closer.
  
  "H-Hello."
  
  "What are you doing out here?" he had something tucked in the crook of his shoulder. A weapon?
  
  "I-I... I-I just..."
  
  "Go back to your room, prisoner!"
  
  "B-But I--"
  
  "I said," he stepped a little closer, eyes black and devoid of humanity. "Go back to your room."
  
  Winston cowered, dropping his gaze to the ground and scuttling back into the shadows.
  
  His varicose ulcer throbbed.
  
  > Well. That worked well.
  Winston's actions lead him to another room. He realized that he had returned back to the original cell, but now, the door was closed tightly and locked.
  
  > There's a tapping noise around here...
  Winston suddenly heard a knocking sound towards the left corner of the dark room. He slowly and cautiously approached it and rifled around
  
  There was nothing here... but then, where was that draft coming from?
  
  After a bit more flailing, he discovered an old, secret door hidden behind black drapes. After a moment of self-motivation, he decided to open it and investigate.
  
  > Open doors lead to new possibilities!
  To his horror, the room was filled with rats. They were tightly compact against each other, clawing and pushing at the walls. Their chitters filled the air. Winston was reminded of his previous torture at the hands of O' Brien. The shrill noise of the rats in the cage and their yellowed teeth in his face brought back terrible memories. Winston quickly drew his mind away and focused on the current predicament. The rats had not yet noticed him but Winston could feel the fear slowly consuming him from the inside. He was at loss on what to do. He wanted to scream, but he was afraid that the rats may notice him. But if he tried to run away, the commotion would also alert the rats of his presence. He could only stand there and wait for help... or hope for the best and scream.
  
  > quiver in fear.
  Winston could only stand in fear as he watched the rats swarm around the room. Suddenly, one rat froze and slowly turned to look directly at him. Winston's heart stopped. As if they were sharing a telepathic link, the rest of the rats immediately stopped in their tracks and turned their heads to look at him, the room becoming eerily silent as their chittering ceased.
  
  > Oh, no...
  The rats started moving towards him, slowly at first, but their speed eventually increasing.
  
  "No, No!" Winston whimpered and tried to turn around back the the way he came, his little legs nearly breaking from the effort. Perhaps there was a guard in the hallway that could save him. Winston didn't care, anything to get him away from the rats; he was even ready to go back to Room 101. Anything to escape, please, please. His mind frantically worked ways to run from the rats, but they were gaining on him. He noticed that he was back at his original cell, but the door was locked this time. Winston banged desperately against the door and hollered for help. There was no reaction. Winston turned around, his back pushed up against the wall and his eyes filled with dread as he saw the oncoming horde of rats.
  
  The rats were chattering viciously, as if in excited for a new meal. The first rat that reached him bit his ankle. Winston screamed as his ulcer instantly began to throb in pain. The next rat latched its teeth into his hand as he tried to swat it away. All around him, he could feel small teeth sinking into his flesh. The excruciating pain filled Winston's mind, and he welcomed the darkness that enveloped him.