Statue's Choice
Content Warning: This text adventure contains themes of horror, psychological distress, and mature content. Each article may include vivid descriptions and elements that could evoke strong emotional responses. Reader discretion is advised.
You've been wandering around for what feels like hours. Time though... is slippery in this place, stretching, compressing, bending. You've been alone, lost in the bizarre mists of the circus, for a very long time. The whole world seems to have been disappeared behind the thick veil of the fog. The weight of silence presses against your ears. What alerts you the most though is the absence of performers- or anyone else. The carnival feels alive but there is no one around to give proof of that.
Suddenly, the booming chime of a clock echoes through all around. Four chimes. You freeze in your tracks, stomach lurching. Dawn is approaching, and with it, the promise that if you don’t escape by sunrise, you’ll be trapped here forever. The realization sinks in like a knife.
Just as panic grabs you, overwhelming all of your senses, the mist ahead parts. Through the haze, you see something; rows of stands filled with people. At least, they look like people. Their skin is grey. Their expressions; masks of agony. They are cold. None of them is moving. They all face a stage before them. In the center of it, stands a figure.
And then... the music starts.
Your Host
The lights flicker to life, casting a cold glow over the stage, revealing a statue that stands in the center. Its form is elegant but unnerving, a humanoid head carved from an unknown, dark stone. Its face, a mask of exaggerated cheerfulness, holds an unsettling grin and its eyes are wide and hollow, as if peering into the very essence of your soul. The glow of the lights catches the fine cracks in its surface, and for a moment, it feels as if the statue might shatter under the weight of its own malevolence.
“Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, welcome to "Statue's Choice!", where every choice can lead either to triumph or tragedy!” The voice is echoing and drips out of the statue's half-open stone mouth with a saccharine sweetness that chills your very core. Motionless and with his gaze piercing the void and your eyes at the same time, the host of this mysterious game show continues, “Tonight, we have a very special contestant! Give a chilling welcome to our brave adventurer, who has wandered through the mists, seeking to escape the grasp of our wretched circus!”
You step closer, your gaze turns to the audience, and panic coils your guts almost immediately. At first glance, the stands appear to be occupied by strange statues; still, silent and unblinking. It is an eerie sight, but as your eyes adjust and you get closer, you realize it's even worse. Each of these statues is unique, as if made by a different sculptor. You catch the unmistakable traces of panic etched into their faces. Their mouths hang open, breaths forever caught in their throats. Eyes wide, hands gripping the edges of their seats in a frozen, desperate grasp.
As much as you want to discard the thought, the truth before you is inevitable. These aren't statues. They're people; at least they once were. Paralyzed by fear in their final moments, frozen in place, forever locked in silent panic. You can almost feel the echoes of their racing hearts, the suffocating terror that seized them just before they were turned to stone. An audience, petrified by their own dread, forced to witness this strange game for eternity.
"Come on, come on! Don’t be shy! This is not the time to hesitate, dear contestant!" The voice from the stage rings out suddenly, making you flinch. It’s a spectacularly upbeat voice, the kind that could pull cheers from a crowd, if this crowd weren’t lifeless. The sound is so out of place, clashing with the grim reality surrounding you. The statue on the stage remains unmoving, yet the booming voice unmistakably belongs to it.
The cheerful music continues, twisting the scene into something surreal, almost dreamlike. "After all, this is your lucky day!", the voice chimes with infectious enthusiasm. "Not many who venture into this carnival get a chance to rethink their steps. Even fewer receive the choice I’m about to present to you! But… oh my, haven’t you already made some very interesting decisions? Wrong… but interesting."
There’s a chilling pause, a moment where the voice seems to weigh its words, reveling in your uncertainty.
The statue’s voice takes on a mockingly inquisitive tone. "Tell me, dear contestant," it muses, its booming voice dripping with feigned curiosity, "what possessed you to choose the Beastman? Did you think his feral instincts would lead you to freedom? Or was it simply an act of desperation? Or even worse... an act of randomness. I wonder…" The statue's rhetorical questions hang in the air, each one prodding at your choices, eroding your confidence. "Did you have a plan? A clever strategy to escape the carnival’s endless maze? Because from where I’m standing you seem quite... lost."
The lights on the stage brighten, as if the show is gaining momentum. The voice continues, sharp but still carrying the gleeful cadence of a game show host. "Oh, but there were other choices, weren’t there? You could have followed the Knight. Ah, what a choice that would have been! You’d be walking in the haunting beauty of Verelle’s song by now. Her voice... a siren’s call, her presence unforgettable. What wonders- what escape- might have awaited you had you taken that path?"
The statue’s tone shifts, almost wistful for a moment, before snapping back into that eerie, cheerful façade. "Or perhaps you fancied yourself stronger? You might’ve chosen to face the Strongman! Ah, yes, through sheer might, you’d have fought your way out of the arena. And there, waiting for you in the distance, the carnival’s magnificent clown; a beacon of comfort, rest, maybe even a moment of peace."
It pauses, letting the tension build, before laughing, a sound that is somehow both jubilant and terrifying. "Either of these paths, could have brought you closer to freedom. Other doors, other possibilities that slipped through your fingers. But you chose the Beastman. And here you are now... wandering in circles. Lost."
There’s a biting edge in the final word, and it seems to echo through the fog, amplifying its hollow truth. "But!" The statue’s voice regains its twisted excitement. "As I said, you’re in luck! I’m offering you a chance to rethink everything. I’ll even give you three doors to choose from. Perhaps now you’ll make a smarter decision? A better decision, if you’re fast enough, that is. After all, the clock is ticking… tick-tock, tick-tock… Time is unforgiving, contestant. And when dawn comes? Well… if dawn comes, I’m afraid you’ll be trapped here. Forever."
The Game
The statue's head moves for the first time, slowly tilting towards the three doors behind it. Spotlights- bright, almost blinding in the dim haze- swing to each one in turn. The game is about to begin.
"Behind each of these doors lies a path... but which one will you take?" The statue's voice deepens. "To your left, Door One! Why not follow the Vanishing Knight now, and uncover what could have been with Verelle's haunting melody? Surely, you’ll find peace there... or perhaps something much darker awaits in the shadows of that choice. But it’s your second chance, nonetheless."
It lets the tension sink in for a heartbeat before gesturing with a rigid, stone hand toward the second door. "Ah! Door Two- to your right! The Strongman beckons you to try your strength again. You might still find rest in the Clown’s embrace. Maybe there, you can truly escape. Unless, of course, the carnival devours you first."
The third door’s spotlight flickers, casting an ominous purple glow. "And in the middle, Door Three... well, I wouldn’t recommend that one. But who am I to stop you? This is the door that leads into the unknown, contestant. It will lead you out of my game; that, I promise you. But where you'll be after you step through? Oh, that... that is a path where you may wish you'd never walked."
The doors loom large before you, each one painted with symbols you can’t decipher. The mist swirls closer now, creeping over your feet, and your pulse quickens with every breath you take. Behind you, the clock ticks echoes steadily, its sound blending with the music. Your heart races as the weight of your past choices crushes you, knowing that you might have missed your only shot at escape.
Each passing second amplifies your hesitation, and a chilling sensation begins to spread beneath your skin. You glance down, horror rising within you as you notice your hands turning a gray, as if life is seeping away from your very being. The warmth of your blood feels distant, slowly replaced by an icy stillness that creeps up your arms and legs, hardening your joints and dulling your senses. You see yourself getting petrified faced with the burden of choice. Panic constricts your throat; your breaths come in shallow gasps, and the weight of your impending choice crushes your chest. The thought of selecting a door that could seal your fate gnaws at your sanity. What if you choose wrong? Each option looms ominously, a potential path to your doom or a desperate grasp at freedom. The audience of statues watches with their frozen expressions, mirroring the mounting fear that paralyzes you. Time slips away like sand through your fingers, and with each tick of the clock, you feel the curse of the carnival tightening its grip, threatening to render you into another statue, trapped in agony and doubt like all the others.
"You need to hurry, contestant." the statue’s voice lowers into a taunting whisper, "You must decide now!
Which door will it be?"
As you stand before the doors, dread washes over you in waves. The statue's mocking laughter rings in your ears, twisting your thoughts into a tangle of doubt. You can feel the icy grip of petrification creeping further up your limbs. Panic ignites within you; the realization of your fading humanity drives you crazy. In a desperate bid to escape this fate, you clutch the doorknob, your heart racing as you second-guess the path you chose. The words of the statue echo in your mind, fueling your fear that staying true to your original choice could doom you to a life of silence and despair. With no other option left, you throw open the door, hoping against hope to evade the transformation that threatens to consume you. Your choice leads you to
As the doors loom before you, panic surges through your veins, each heartbeat amplifying the uncertainty that grips your mind. The statue’s earlier taunts echo in your thoughts, planting seeds of doubt that blossom into a haunting fear. You can feel your skin growing cold and grey, as if the very act of hesitating could seal your fate in stone.
But amidst the chaos, a flicker of clarity pierces through the fog of despair. Memories of your journey flood your mind, the courage it took to follow this thread, how it has led you to this very moment. The statue observes, its stony gaze fixated on you, an unyielding challenge lurking beneath its polished surface.
Finally, you step forward, ignoring the doors that whisper of "what ifs" that are lost in your past. Instead, you trust the path that has led you through the carnival’s darkness, embracing your decision to forge ahead.
The statue’s expression shifts subtly, a flicker of surprise flashing across its marble features. A low, rumbling acknowledgment resonates from deep within its form, a begrudging respect for your defiance. “Ah, how intriguing!” it seems to convey, its presence no longer a mere obstacle but a witness to your resilience.
As you are about to pass the threshold of the middle door, the statue watches. Its voice is now a mere echo of what it was. "How unfortunate... You were meant to falter, to remain lost in my game! But here you are, defying the very essence of my design."
A flicker of panic dances in its stone eyes as you move past, and for a fleeting moment, you catch a glimpse of the statue's own desperation; its hunger for despair, its longing to see another soul trapped in eternal torment. The last thing you hear before closing the door behind you is a whisper; a chilling reminder of the stakes at play. "This is not the end, contestant. The game here is never truly over...". With that, you find yourself alone again and the statue, his game and the door you chose, have disappeared. You are standing before a magnificent, eerie garden and you forge your path to reach the
As you stand before the doors, dread washes over you in waves. The statue's mocking laughter rings in your ears, twisting your thoughts into a tangle of doubt. You can feel the icy grip of petrification creeping further up your limbs. Panic ignites within you; the realization of your fading humanity drives you crazy. In a desperate bid to escape this fate, you clutch the doorknob, your heart racing as you second-guess the path you chose. The words of the statue echo in your mind, fueling your fear that staying true to your original choice could doom you to a life of silence and despair. With no other option left, you throw open the door, hoping against hope to evade the transformation that threatens to consume you. Your choice leads you to
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