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Werewolves: The Apocalypse — The Book of Hungry Names
(Now with 98% more ecological guilt and 100% less graphics)

You and your band of traumatized werewolves (read: a group of poorly resolved furry therapists) must save the Living Earth using two infallible ingredients: homicidal rage and questionable spirituality.

In this interactive novel with hundreds of choices (most leading to inevitable doom), you'll have the chance to face a Wyrm Spirit that manifests itself as... a lie you really want to believe. Like that voice that says "I'll start my diet tomorrow." Only with more cosmic destruction.

 Written by Kyle Marquis and set in the wonderful (cough) universe of World of Darkness, this epic without a single image (but with 1.6 million words, in other words, an abusive relationship with reading) is fueled solely by the most powerful thing in the world: your imagination that has already failed three college entrance exams.

You are a werewolf. And like all good werewolf, you are a mix of:

Shaman who thinks meditation cures demonic migraines,

Hero that nobody asked for,

Monster with existential crises,

And sustainability consultant for Mother Gaia (bankrupt, of course).

Created by the goddess of the Earth, you were gifted with the ability to turn into a wolf (in other words, walk around naked with style), and tasked with the noble mission of preventing humanity from turning the planet into a cosmic McTrash.

But guess what? You failed. Congratulations.

 Three years ago, your pack was part of the Sept of Broad Brook, Massachusetts (land of maple syrup and spiritual doom), where werewolves still pretended they had a chance against the Wyrm — the spirit of destruction, chaos, and people who comment “first” on YouTube.

While other Septs fell like dominoes at a satanic rave, yours was there, firm, strong, and deluded. Some said you would prevent the Apocalypse. Others just thought it was funny to watch the circus burn.

Now, all that’s left is for you to pick up the pieces (literally), avoid becoming an evil spirit’s kibble, and, who knows, write your name in the Book of Hungry Names — the one that eats hopes, New Year’s promises, and happy endings.

Do you want me to adapt this to become the introduction to chapter 1 as well?

Of course! Here's a Desciclopédia-style warning, with a touch of acid and humor, that you can put at the beginning of your story on Wattpad to make everything clear:

WARNING BEFORE SOME LITIGIOUS SPIRIT COMES TO BARK

This work is a humorous reinterpretation (read: full of irony, sarcasm, dark humor and some inconvenient truths) based on the style of interactive stories like those from Choice of Games. But, before anyone calls the lawyers or invokes the spirit of copyright, let's make something VERY clear:

This is not plagiarism. It's parody. It's a joke. It's entertainment.

(And, let's be honest, not even Mother Gaia would bother to sue.)

The writing adopted follows the Desciclopédia style, that is:

Nothing is sacred.

Everything can be a joke.

If you get offended, congratulations, the system worked.

 This is a tongue-in-cheek homage to the classics of the genre, using the interactive format to tell stories that are bizarre, tragic, hilarious, and incredibly stupid (sometimes all at the same time). None of the original Choice of Games content was copied directly—only the structure was inspired, because let’s face it, reinventing the wheel is a lot of work.

If you want an epic journey with deep moral dilemmas, go play the original.

If you want to laugh at your own misfortune while turning into a werewolf and punching mystical capitalism with your paws, go ahead. It’s your house.

Zerk World) Zombo Stars

White-hot agony spears through your ribs as a man dressed head to toe in white-and-gray camo drives a knife into your chest and twists it ruthlessly. You kick him away, sending him flying into a snowdrift while Bly deals with a second man in a similar manner. Blood surges in your ears as your body attempts to heal the wound, but the knife is in deep, snarled between your ribs with a serrated edge. Somehow your attacker knew just where to strike, as if he's had insider training on werewolf anatomy and healing.

"Hold still," Bly says as she wraps her claws around the hilt of the knife. "You ready?" She doesn't wait for a response before twisting it just enough for it to slide out from between your ribs. The blade comes free with a crackle and a wet sucking sound that you wish you could unhear. "You okay, APEX PREDATORI?" she asks.

You grit your teeth to keep from crying out in pain. "I'll be okay," you manage to say through your clenched jaw. You stumble over to check the body. Looks like your powerful kick caved in his chest—he was probably dead before he hit the ground.

"These guys know what they're doing," Bly whispers. "They're trying to take us out without alerting the other wolves. We're lucky we spotted them before they saw us. We should get back and warn—" Her eyes go wide and she gasps as something hits her in the neck. She reaches a trembling paw up and pulls it free. "Fucking…dart…" she slurs. "Down!" She throws herself into the snowbank, narrowly avoiding two more darts as they whistle out of the darkness. She bursts free of the snow and lands on all fours, already running toward the source of the attack. "Come on!" she howls. "Come get some, you cowardly shits!"

You're about to join her when you notice a second man aiming a rifle in Bly's direction, lining up a shot. He's a fair distance away from you and nearly invisible against the snow in his camo. If you don't do something, he'll surely take Bly down while she's distracted.

There's no time for subtlety. I drop to all fours and run right for the sniper, hoping to take him out with my claws.

I stalk toward the sniper, letting loose a terrifying war howl. Even the most well-trained soldiers are subject to fear of the supernatural, and even the slightest tremble will cause him to miss his shot.

I can't risk the sniper getting off a shot before I reach him. I jump between him and Bly, taking the dart and hoping that my body is strong enough to weather its effects.