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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

You never wanted to come back to Tucson. It's been a black spot on your personal map for years. But here you are.

You have to avoid the good neighborhoods—the big stucco houses on their little plots of land, with their raked-out front yards and blue recycling bins. For a few minutes, a black-and-white Mustang with a thin blue line Punisher decal on the hood creeps behind you in first gear. You can't tell if it's an actual police car or some kind of patriot group, but you cut through a park where they can't follow. There's a public bathroom there where you might be able to clean up a little. The mirror is cracked and someone shit in the urinal, but the water works.

You spend a few minutes scraping trash off, then look around for either threats or opportunities. Your Hunger is a gnawing distraction in the back of your mind, but you can still think. And you find yourself thinking, where are all the junkies? It's not like this is a nice park. You lurk in the shadows for a few minutes, just to remember what it's like, but you don't see anyone.

That's when you recognize where you are. This abandoned building was the lair of Lampago—a thing of legend that was probably one of the Kindred, though no one knows for sure. A shapeshifting monstrosity, destroyed by hunters as the Second Inquisition rose to power and began their dreadful crusade against all vampires. Some of the Sabbat worshiped it like a god, though your sire didn't approve of that kind of thing.

A lesson in keeping your head down and not bucking the Traditions if ever there was one.

She might have been a monster, but there aren't many creatures left like her. Just obedient little Kindred without imagination. I wish I could have seen her.

A cannibal corpse wallowing in a sewer; vampires are worth more than that. They were right to destroy her.