Current Events > CYOA: You've been raised from the dead by a necromancer.

(+) Yeah! (+)

You are awake. You find yourself in total darkness, unable to open your eyes. You try to shout for help, but with your mouth glued shut too, all you can manage is a muffled, "Hhhmmmnngggg." This isn't heaven anymore.

"What a pickle," you think to yourself. You're surprised how calm you are about this. Having your eyes and mouth glued shut sounds like a nightmare, but for some reason it's okay. It's no heaven by any stretch of the imagination, but hey let's just see where this goes.

You hear fanatical yips and cheers from up above you. "Yes! Yes! Yeeeeeees! I did it, IdiditIdiditIdidt!"

Awww, he sounds so excited. You really wish you could see how elated he is. You try to force your eyes as hard as you can, eventually feeling some of your skin peel away from the tops of your eyelids as your sight finally returns. Huh, you expected the skin ripping to hurt, but it didn't. Nothing hurts. You take a peek at your surroundings. You're in an open box in a hole. It's a nice box though. Decent hole too. You wish you learned more about woodworking while you were alive so you could identify what kind of wood your coffin was made of. You didn't learn anything about wood while you were in heaven either, but you did learn about holes a little bit. This is a... this hole is a... Hm. The whole hole lesson seems to have slipped your mind. You look up and see a figure in black robes jumping from one foot to the other pointing his fingers to the sky.

As the skin tears from your lips, you call out, "What kind of hole is this?"
"Ahhh!" the startled necromancer jumps in place then turns down to look at you. "Ex-excuse me?"
"This hole that I'm in. What's it called?" you clarify.
"It's... uh... a grave," he answers.
Oh, that was it. A grave! "Thanks."
The necromancer seems a little caught off guard by your opening remarks, but takes a quick breath and composes himself. "Hello! I am your new m-"
"Hi," you greet him back.
"...I am your new master!" he continues. "And I need you to-"
"How long have I been dead for?" you ask him.
The necromancer exhales in frustration, but tries not to show it. "Like a month and a half or so."
"Wow, the embalmers did a pretty good job on me, huh? I'm not nearly as decayed as I thought I would be," you admire your hands, which have only shriveled an inch or so. Your hands are really all you can see of your body, since the rest of you is dressed in a fine three piece suit. "Where'd they get this suit? This ain't my suit. I ain't never wore a suit this nice in my entire life."
"Men's Wearhouse, maybe? Hell if I know," he replies.
"Why would they buy this for me if they were just gonna bury it after? Shoulda buried me in my bathing suit and saved four hundred bucks," you protest your family's decisions to the necromancer.
"Silence!" he shouts at you. "You will speak when you are spoken to."
You shift awkwardly in your coffin and look around the perimeter of the grave. "Were you not talking to me this whole time? Is there someone else here?"
"No, I was talking to you, but.. like," the necromancer thinks for a moment. "You are only to speak when I allow it."
"That's not how friendship works," you argue.
"We are not friends, slave! I am your master and you are my servant!" he bellows.
"Did you just call me slave?" you ask incredulously. "My name's literally right on the headstone. Digging up this hole must have taken a while, you must have looked at the headstone at least once."
---

"I have granted you life," he seethes. "And you owe that life to me as a token of your gratitude."
"I don't know, I was having a good time in heaven. Now I'm back here in this hole. And that's fine, that's all fine," you shrug. "But if I'm being honest I gotta say I'm a little bit peeved. A teensy bit miffed. I'm just a tad cheesed about the whole thing."
"Well what was-"
"A tiny bit sauced, if you will."
"What was heaven like?" the necromancer asks.
"All good," you nod. "All good things, I think... It was um... you know when you have a really good dream, then you wake up and can't really remember much about it, but you know it was great? That's kinda where I'm at with heaven at the moment."
"Do you want to go back there?"
"Yeah, I think I would, thanks," you smile. "Hey, it was nice meeting you and all. Glad you dug me up for this conversation, hopefully we can chill again when you die-"
"I'm not sending you back now!" he corrects you.
"Oh," you frown.
"I need you to help me with something. Once you do that, then I'll send you back to heaven," the necromancer explains.
"What's the something?" you ask.

What does the necromancer want you to do?

A) Incite fear and panic inside a local church.
B) Topple the city government.
C) Hunt down an ancient scroll from the land of the dead.
D) Steal a yacht from the marina.
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D
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B
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@WafflehouseJK
@Eevee-Trainer
@teepan95
@CM_Ponch
@NeonOctopus
@nikko004
@WaterLink
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A

Come on guys, literal reanimated corpse walking into a church? Practically writes itself.
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C
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B that somehow transitions into A
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A
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A and tell churchgoers C.
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CM_Ponch posted...

B that somehow transitions into A

This

Also, thanks for the tag!
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I kinda wanna be a zombie sailor. >_>

D.
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teepan95 posted...

CM_Ponch posted...

B that somehow transitions into A

This

Also, thanks for the tag!

This

WafflehouseJK posted...

I kinda wanna be a zombie sailor. >_>

D.

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B -> A

Thanks for the tag
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A

B
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D

Agree on the zombie sailor
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D

yaaaaaaaaar
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D to do C
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I somehow get the feeling that our new necromancer master is an abject loser. We should eat his brains at the earliest possible chance then wander off for someone better to attach ourselves to.

Anyway, D
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E) jerk it with luigi
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But really, this is one of the better written CYOAs I've seen recently and it's got my interest.

I vote A
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DavidWong posted...

But really, this is one of the better written CYOAs I've seen recently and it's got my interest.

I vote A

https://gamefaqs.gamespot.com/boards/586631-aerial-assault/48372668

Enjoy that and any other Assmuff CYOA's on that board.
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D!
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D has it right now, but BA and A are closr behind. I'll update tonight when I'm home from work.
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Thanks for the tag.

BA
---

D) Steal a yacht from the marina.

"I need you to go down the mairna and acquire a yacht for me," the necromancer demands.
"A yacht? I don't have any money to buy a yacht," you tell him.
He chuckles. "I guess you're going to have to steal one then."
"I've never stolen anything before," you admit. "Well, successfully at least. Once in sixth grade, I got two pieces of pizza at lunch, but I put the bigger slice on top of the smaller slice to make it look like I only had one. The cashier noticed immediately and made me put the big slice back. So embarrassing."
"Well don't try stacking one yacht on top of another and you should be fine."
You brush some dirt off your suit pants. "I couldn't even commit pizza crime. Nautical crime is a lot harder. Why do you even need the yacht anyways?"
"Don't worry about it," he scowls as he lowers a ladder into the grave. "Besides, once you get the yacht I'll send you back to heaven."
"Okie dokie," you say as you ascend from the grave. Now standing next to the necromancer, he's a lot shorter than he looks from below. Even after you've shriveled a bit, he only comes up to your shoulder, though his face is still hidden by the robes.
In a voice like a little songbird, he instructs, "Now, once you obtain the-"
"Wow! You're voice sounded a lot lower when I was well... lower," you tell him. Wait a minute... You point behind him and gasp, "Someone's coming!"
The boy shrieks and turns around as you quickly pull down the hood of his robes. Your bespectacled master has red hair, freckles, and a pimple in the crease of his nose. He sharply turns back around and whips his hood back on. "YOU DO NOT TOUCH YOUR MASTER!"
He tried to sound intimidating, but his voice cracked badly in the middle of his wail. "My master? What are you like twelve?"
"I'm thirteen!" he protests.
"That's... that's actually worse I think. You're a child."
"Look, I'm mature for my age. I have a GameFAQs account," he brags.
"That site stunts your emotional development by at least three years. Now you're ten," you inform him.
"Ugh!" the necromancer growls in frustration. "You are my s-"
"You are ten years old. What does a ten year old need with a yacht?" you ask.
"I'm not telling you!" he shouts. "And stop saying I'm ten."
"You have lite-up Sketchers on!"
"So what?"
"So nothing. That part was a compliment, I actually really like those," you say excitedly.
The necromancer seems wary to accept your compliment. "Are you-"
"Do you even know how to sail a yacht?" you butt in. "You're not even allowed to drive a car."
"Why don't you let me worry about all that?" he advises. "I have a plan, okay?"
"Fine. Can I know the plan?" you ask.
"Well the current step is to obtain a yacht and the next step is to send my servant back to heaven," he informs you. "But I suppose we could always change the next step."

You put your hands on your hips and think for a moment. "Alright. But if we're gonna do this, can I at least know your name? Calling you Master was weird when I thought you were an adult, but it's shifted into very creepy now that I know your real age."
---

The necromancer clutches the hem of his sleeve nervously. "...You can call me Mills."
You nod. "Okay." You hold your arms out and notice how loosely this suit is hanging off you. "I've lost quite a bit of weight since I died. You can call me Slim I guess."
"Slim? That's not what your headstone says-"
"So you did read it!" you interrupt him.
Mills let out a short laugh before stifling it. "Follow me, Slim."

Mills begins leading you into the forest behind the cemetery.
"How'd you get into necromancy?" you ask as you stroll through the woods.
"It's a long story," he tries to dismiss the question.
"Is it a long walk?"
"It's a shorter walk than story," Mills shuts you down, the lights of his sneakers guiding you through the darkness.
"Hmm," you swing your arms by your side as you walk. "Still, it's pretty cool you were able to resurrect me at such a young age. When I thirteen I..." you think back to all the masturbating you did when you were thirteen. "... I played a lot of video games."
"Yeah, so do I," Mills mutters as he gazes around for a moment then continues down a path to the right.
"Well hey, you're kinda living a video game now. Thirteen year old me would think this is rad."
Mills stops in the path for a moment. "Thanks."
You look around searching for the reason Mills stopped moving. Seeing nothing, you try to lean over to see his face while saying, "I would like to point out that thirteen year old Slim had no idea how to drive a yacht either."
"Shut up," Mills starts moving again before you can see under his hood.

The sun starts to peek over the horizon as the two of you trek through the woods.
"I missed sunrises," you smile as you gaze at the sheets of orange and red beyond the trees.
"They didn't have sunrises in heaven?" Mills asks.
"I... I'm not sure. I can't remember," you scratch your head. "I'm sure they were nothing like this though."
Mills scoffs. "Not much of a paradise without a sunrise."
"Hm," you mumble as you pick up a stone and toss it gently to yourself. "Hey, aren't necromancers not supposed to like sunrises? Don't you guys like to live in darkness, and the sun is the enemy?"
"You might be thinking of vampires."
"I bet it would still apply though. You can't be raising corpses in broad daylight while someone is putting roses on their mother's grave a couple plots away," you skip the stone across the forest floor. "Hey! Did I have any roses on my grave before you dug it up?"
"You had a nice wreath actually," Mills replies.
"Ooo! A wreath, I like that!" you giggle. How nice of your family to leave a wreath even a month and a half after you died. Just the thought of it warms your cold, dead heart.
Mills stops at the mouth of a cave opening and looks through the trees at the fiery watercolor on the horizon. "No matter what happens in the night, if you're staring at that sun it means you've made it. And everything will be fine for a little while."
"Unless you're a vampire," you whisper under your breath.

Mills lowers his hood and puts hand to the wall of the cave. "Alright, we're here."
"Where's here?" you ask.
"This is where I'll be until you get the yacht," he instructs you.
"You're gonna be in this cave?" you ask. "You don't have a house?"
"Nope, no house. Just gonna stay in this cave," he confirms.
"What if there's a bear in there?"
"There's no bear in there, I checked," Mills tries to dissuade your concern.
---

You nod. "Okay but what if there's no bear in there now, but one comes later? Then you're in a bit of a Goldilocks situation."
"Well Goldilocks was fine at the end of the story, I will be too," he reassures you.
"Well Goldilocks had stairs to run down before she went out the front door. Bears aren't good with stairs," you point out. "No stairs in a cave."
"Then I guess it's really not a Goldilocks situation, is it?" Mills snaps.
"Well, it is a bit. Just y'know... sans stairs."
"I'll be fine, Slim."
"Do you want me to bring you some supplies?" you offer. "Like a tent and a flashlight maybe? Beef jerky to throw in the other direction for when the bears come?"
"No thanks. Just-"
You cut him off by putting your hand on his shoulder. "I'd really feel better if I just brought you some bear mace."
"Just go get the yacht!" he yells.
"And then what? Sail it to this cave?"
He exhales a long, slow breath. "Once you have the yacht, come and get me. Okay?"
"Alright," you agree.
"I know you want to get back to heaven and all, so I'll try my best not to die," Mills says as he retreats into the cave.
Truthfully, you kinda forgot about getting back to heaven for a second there. You just wanted Mills to be safe. Is it so hard to believe that you don't want a kid to get eaten by bears without an ulterior motive?

You voyage back through the woods to the cemetery. The sun has risen, it's early morning now. You can hear birds sing greetings to one another. You whistle a tune with them as you walk towards the marina. You suppose you should come up with a plan.

How are you going to steal a yacht?

A) Through bargaining.
B) Through intimidation.
C) Through violence.
D) Don't steal one at all, just ask a yacht captain if he'll give Mills a ride.
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D, but do it by using C.
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tag
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D, then C if he refuses
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DC
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WafflehouseJK posted...

D, but do it by using C.

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C

Straight violence is always the answer :3
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Dc
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BC
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HotLap posted...

"Look, I'm mature for my age. I have a GameFAQs account," he brags.
"That site stunts your emotional development by at least three years. Now you're ten," you inform him.

lmao

Also, B
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DB
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WafflehouseJK posted...

D, but do it by using C.

HotLap posted...

"Look, I'm mature for my age. I have a GameFAQs account," he brags.
"That site stunts your emotional development by at least three years. Now you're ten," you inform him.

Lmao
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Gonna have to go with D

Oh look, another assmuff cyoa to go unfinished.

D with C
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A. We know a frigging Necromancer!
We can bring the dead back!
Best bargaining ever! Bring back a pet or loved one! If we bring him to cave, and Mills can't do it...we cross that bridge later.
Negotiate to use it for a while.

Should be easy to prove we're dead. Stab ourselves in the arms.
---

D
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DC with a pretty commanding lead, but the voting will be open for another couple hours.

Captain_CE posted...

Oh look, another assmuff cyoa to go unfinished.

D with C

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WafflehouseJK posted...

D, but do it by using C.

---

C) Through violence.
D) Don't steal one at all, just ask a yacht captain if he'll give Mills a ride.

Your pace quickens toward the marina as you start to skip gleefully. You never thought you would miss this town, but after spending a month in heaven you never thought it would feel this good to be back. As you pass a morning jogger, you greet her with a friendly, "What a beautiful morning!"
She takes one look at you and immediately cries out, "Aaaaaaah! Oh my god!" She sprints past you as fast as she can and never looks back.
Huh. That was a little rude, but you are probably pretty terrifying looking. You try to smooth your rotting flesh back onto your bones in the same way a Wall Street banker tries to grease his hair down. Once people get over your appearance, they'll come to accept you as just another ordinary member of society who is trying to commit grand larceny.
A man checking his phone as his dog leads him down the sidewalk is approaching. As you get closer, the dog reacts poorly to the smell of death, baring his teeth and snarling at your presence. The man shoves his phone in his pocket as he shouts "Oh sweet Mary mother of JE-SUS!" while crossing the street to get away from you.

As you come to the next bench on your path you collapse onto it. You weren't expecting everyone to be so afraid of you. Granted, you're still riding pretty high from the bird songs and the skipping, but you're a little offended. You see a young blonde woman walking down the street in a short black dress holding her high heels.

"Hey!" you call out to her as she gets closer. "Can you sit down for a minute?"
You see her inhale through her nose then instinctively lean away from the stench. "Why?" she asks.
"Everyone's been running away from me," you respond. "I just want to have a normal conversation."
Pinching her nose, she says, "Well you stink like shit, dude. They're probably running away from the smell."
"That's not my fault. I've been underground for six weeks," you cross your arms and lean against the back of the bench.
The woman slowly takes a seat on the bench a few feet away from you before glancing around. "Am I still drunk? Or are you a zombie?"
You shrug. "You might still be drunk, but I don't think I'm a zombie. I don't want to eat brains or anything, but some thirteen year old kid did bring me back to life in a cemetery."
"What? That's innnnsane," she places her shoes on the ground. "How long have you been re-alive for?"
"Like a couple hours, probably," you tell her. "How long have-"
"Hey!" a shout comes from across the street. A man wearing a long sleeve plaid shirt and a hunting hat is staring at the two of you. "Are you alright?" he calls to the girl.
"I'm fine, thank you," she waves him off.
"Are you sure?" he confirms. "What is that thing?"
You stare at the ground as she shouts, "He's my fucking friend! Will you fuck off already?"
The man shakes his head and retreats into his car. The harsh language sent a shiver down your spine, but you're willing to forgive her since she stuck up for you. "Thanks." You hold out your hand. "I'm Slim by the way."
The girl pauses a moment to stare at your rotting fingers before firmly grasping your hand and saying, "Nice to meet you. I'm Jenna."
The man in plaid rolls up next to you two with the window down. "Are you suuuure-"
Jenna grabs one of her heels and hurls it at the car. "Get out of here! Go away!" Jenna's heel smacks slightly to the left of his gas cap, surely leaving a dent.
The driver looks bewildered at her. "Bitch!" he shouts as he speeds away.
---

"God, what an asshole," she mutters as she collects her heel and sits back down next to you.
You slide further down on the bench and rub your temples. "Why does everyone hate me? Is this what prejudice is?"
Jenna swings around to face you and sits Indian style. "I don't know. I'm a white girl in college. Guys still buy me drinks and assume I need protecting like that good Samaritan. I'm coasting on good prejudice for the time being. I won't face bad prejudice til I get to the workforce."
You furrow your brow. "That seems inaccurate to me, but I guess you would know better than I would."
"Well, it's not like I'm not facing some bad prejudice now," Jenna clarifies. "I just feel like I'm better equipped to deal with this college bullshit than that real world bullshit."
"Gosh. Sorry you have to deal with all that sexist BS, Jenna."
"Well, thanks Slim," she responds. "Sorry you have to deal with all this dead drama."
"Thanks." You point to Jenna's heels. "Where are you walking to so early?"
"Back to my sorority house. It's not quite a walk of shame because I'm not really ashamed. Dude had a," Jenna cups her hand around her mouth before singing, "big ol' dick."
You cringe again at her language.
She notices. "What? Come on, Slim. You're telling me that you died and came back to life, but you're uncomfortable talking about sex?"
"It's not the sex necessarily. It's just that we didn't really curse in heaven," you admit.
"You're not allowed to swear in heaven?" Jenna asks.
You wriggle around on the bench in uncertainty. "I don't know if we weren't allowed. It's just no one ever did it. No one wanted to find out what happened if you did."
"Well you're not in heaven anymore, babe," Jenna says. "You can cuss all you want, motherfucker."
"I don't know," you put your head in your hands.
Jenna quickly pulls your hands away from your face and says, "Hey, it's okay. You don't have to if you don't want to."
"No, I should," you object. "It's part of being alive. I used to do it before I died, it shouldn't be a big deal."
Jenna laughs as she grips your hands. "Alright lay it on me."
You take several deep breaths. In and out. In and out. Your hands would be shaking if Jenna weren't holding them still. It's time. "Cr-crap," you whisper.
"Uh-uh," Jenna shakes her head. "Crap isn't a swear, you can say crap on Nickelodeon."
You take another deep breath. "Bastard."
Jenna, surprised by your savagery, gives you a wide smile with the right side of her mouth. "Hey! Look at that."
"Pl-plenty more where that came from," you stutter.
"How did that feel?" she asks you.
"It felt good," you grin. "Well truth be told everything feels good. Even when those people ran from me, I never really felt bad. I just didn't feel super great. Only regular great, know what I'm saying?"
"Not at all," Jenna admits happily.
You take a moment to try to figure out what it is you're trying to explain. "You know how your brain releases endorphins as you die to make you feel peaceful and happy? Well in heaven, I kept feeling those endorphins. And I think I'm still feeling them now, only they're not being counteracted with the pain of dying."
---

"So you're just on a constant endorphin high?"
"I... I guess so?"
"Not gonna lie, death sounds kinda great," Jenna sighs. "Better than finals at least."
"You have all the time in the world to die, Jenna. There's no rush." You rise from the bench. As you turn to walk away, you say, "Thanks for stopping instead of y'know, screaming."
"Please, I'm in a sorority," Jenna chortles. "It's not like I haven't seen my share of dead bodies before."
You promptly turn back around. "Umm, what?"
"Sorority life gets tough, Slim," Jenna stretches her arms out against the back of the bench. "It's kill or be killed nowadays. Last spring we caught another sorority trying to steal our pledges. So we went down to their house and we fucked those Beta Alpha Delta bitches up!"
"Have you killed people, Jenna?" you ask bewildered.
"Me? Maybe. Who's to say it was my knife that finally ended her life instead of one of the other Gamma Epsilon Thetas?" Jenna raises one of her eyebrows. "See, us Gamma Epsilon Thetas, we get money, we get dick, but most of all we get respect. And if those BAD bitches can't see that, then I guess they're gonna feel that endorphin high you've been talking about, Slim."
"When did sororities get so competitive?" you ask.
"You got a problem with our practices, Slim?" Jenna demands.
"I think if I were still alive I'd find this whole thing deeply disturbing," you confess. "But now that I'm dead, I find the whole thing deeply neat."
Jenna chuckles. "You're pretty neat yourself. Where are you off to anyway?"
"I gotta go steal a yacht for the kid who resurrected me or he won't send me back to heaven," you tell her.
"Bummer. How are you gonna do it?"
"I don't know yet. I don't really want to steal one, since I don't know how to sail it and neither does my master," you say.
"Ew, don't say master when talking about a child," Jenna scolds you.
"I know! I think it's creepy too, but the little motherfunner got in my head," you concede shamefully.
"Motherfunner? You can cuss now, Slim."
You shift uncomfortably. "Bastard was a big deal for me, I need to work my way up to the big MF."
"Fair enough," Jenna admits. "How are you gonna convince someone to sail a yacht for you and the boy wonder?"
"I'm hoping the relentless positivity death has granted me will be enough to persuade someone," you smirk.
"Well, if it doesn't," Jenna licks her bottom lip and glances around. "Don't be afraid to get your hands dirty."
"What are you saying?"
"I'm saying now that you have constant endorphin high, you have the luxury of conscious-free decision making," Jenna explains. "You could kill someone and not feel a bit of guilt about it. Those brain chemicals will just pick you back up and tell you what a great job you're doing. God, you'd be such a great pledge. You're a bonafide sociopath."
"Huh, I guess I am a sociopath," you mumble. "Only if I choose to kill though!"
"Pfft," Jenna scoffs. "If you want to get back to heaven, you may have to kill some people."
"I guess you could be right," you tell Jenna.
Jenna nods. "Damn right I'm right. So, what are you going to do if you can't convince the captain to give you a ride?"

What form of violence are you prepared to carry out?

A) Biting. You're kind of a zombie, maybe you can kill through bites.
B) Be prepared to kill with your bare hands.
C) Find a blunt object for bashing.
D) Find a gun.
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