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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

Chapter 1 – Tomumy, Saz's Last Emo

Tomumy, 17 years old, with a face that is eternally sleepy and a heart that is as closed as a Swiss bank vault, was going to school. A new school, by the way, because the family's old house was burned down by a pyromaniac criminal who clearly didn't like properties with unpaid property taxes.

But don't worry, that's not the worst part.

The real fire in Tomumy's life was emotional: his father disappeared, probably running away to live off Uber in Paraguay; his mother loves her nerdy 19-year-old daughter more; his sister loves the house dog more than her own brother; and the dog probably hates Tomumy too — which is worrying, because not even Scooby-Doo judged anyone.

Tomumy is the kind of person who thinks that people who vent on social media should be canceled in real life.

According to him, anyone who writes long texts on Instagram is weak. Anyone who posts a little crying dance on TikTok deserves a reality check and a lesson on "silence wins".

Tomumy doesn't vent: he keeps everything inside until it turns into nervous gastritis and a playlist of depressive rock from the 2000s.

His new school, called Saz (because "High School Hell" was already registered), was the stage for his new silent suffering. He arrived early — not out of responsibility, but because he was homeless, fatherless, hopeless and mortally hated the anonymous arsonist who almost burned his family to the ground.

He entered the classroom, looked around and — surprise! — no one paid attention to him.

The world turns, the Earth trembles and teenagers continue to ignore each other as if they were in a headphone commercial.

Tomumy sat in the corner, put his head on the table and decided to take an existential nap.

But then the teacher, the great motivator of youth, came shouting:

Tomumy jumped up in shock, looking like a cross between an owl and a sleepy zombie.

The whole class laughed at him, as if he were a lost episode of Everybody Hates Tomumy.

The teacher, with his age-old wisdom of public education, issued the classic pedagogical threat:

— Fall asleep again and go to the principal's office!

Tomumy, with shame dripping from his pores, lowered his head and said the iconic:

The class was still laughing. They called him "the sleepy weirdo from class C", which, let's face it, is already an improvement. It could have been worse. They could have called him "the frustrated pyromaniac".

Tomumy, of course, pretended he didn't care. But deep down, deep down, between his liver and his broken heart, he wanted to be noticed.

But maybe... by someone who also hates TikTok.

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