A Deadly Vacation
“If you don’t believe me, fine. You and your partner can die for all I care.”
This is a collaborative choose your own adventure story. Click here for the chapter guide. Go back to chapter 1 by Linden Schneider here. Return to the previous chapter here.
The mysterious messenger warns you that if you go on Vacation Roulette, you will die. But how can you believe them if they can’t give you any evidence?
You tap out another message to them:
If you don’t give me convincing evidence, my partner and I will go on Vacation Roulette anyway.
At this point, your partner yawns loudly from the bed. “Hey, who are you texting? Some paramour I don’t know about?”
You sulk and want to tell them that you don’t appreciate such jokes, especially as past partners have cheated on you before. But instead, you shove your phone in their face. Their eyes widen dramatically as they rapidly consume the back-and-forth messages between you and the person.
“Holy geez,” they mutter. “Is this serious? We’re going to die on vacation? What the hell?”
You meet your partner’s gaze and you frown. “Presumably, but I can’t tell whether they’re just pranking or not.”
“That must be a pretty elaborate prank,” your partner answers with a flat tone. Their eyebrows furrow. “Oh!” The phone vibrates again. Their jaw drops and they shove your phone back at you.
These words fill your screen:
If you don’t believe me, fine. You and your partner can die for all I care. I’m disconnecting from you now before the organisers can track me down.
In the next instant, an error message pops up on your phone. The slew of messages disappears, as if your messenger had never existed. Your blood runs cold at the implications.
In a whisper, you ask, “So should we go on Vacation Roulette or not?”
Your partner ruffles their unruly but smooth hair. Their eyelids grow hooded, and they say, “Yes, let’s go.”
You can’t believe what you heard. “Really?” you exclaim. “You’d risk our lives?”
But your partner pouts and puts their hands on their hips. “I’ve been through a ton of shit in my life and this low-grade threat isn’t going to scare me. It’s been quite a while since we’ve had a vacation, or anything close to an adventure. And we’re both pretty resourceful and good at fighting. We can protect ourselves and each other.” They turn up their nose. “And I don’t think the warning is valid. Who the hell warns you without a shred of evidence?”
“Well, they can’t get evidence if they didn’t record anything before escaping,” you argue.
Your partner shakes their head. “No, no, no. That’s not an excuse. They can’t just make big claims without backing them up. They can say anything. Some people get off on terrorising others. If you have anti-vaxxers saying vaccines have microchips in them, then you’ll have people saying that our vacation organizers will kill us.” They put their hands on your shoulders and give you a long, hard look. “Come on. Let’s go and have fun.”
Reluctantly, you nod. Maybe your partner is right. Only a scammer would have absolutely no proof to back up their statements, right?
A few days later, Vacation Roulette sends you the air tickets via email, and you beam in spite of yourself. Your partner pecks you on the lips. “Let’s make the most of this. They got us first-class seats, too. Sweet!”
It’s odd how generous the organizers are, but you’re not going to complain. You’ve only flown on first-class once, and it was during a much sadder time in your life.
On the morning of the vacation, you drag your partner out of bed, and before you know it, you’re at the airport. You’re piled onto a fancy jet and put into luxurious seats. Even the flight attendants look amazing. You thank whatever deity out there that your partner isn’t too interested in them, and is more interested in the food. You never expected to enjoy such a gourmet lunch!
You suddenly think of how a convict gets a grand feast before their execution. But you refuse to indulge such dark thoughts, not now that you’re stuck on a plane. You might as well just enjoy the meal, the movies, and your partner’s presence.
Afterwards, you doze off, only to wake up moments later. Your partner grumbles. “What the hell? Turbulence?”
The pilot announces just what your partner said, but he sounds cool and collected, as if this were an everyday occurrence for him.
Indeed, you feel the uneasy sensation of riding on an unstable plane. Idly, you wonder if you’ll die before the vacation. The organisers won’t even have time to kill you!
But your partner doesn’t seem daunted. They curse and mutter, but they gradually grow absorbed into the movie they picked — Oppenheimer, out of all movies.
You’re not in the mood for bleak flicks right now, so you choose Barbie, even though you’ve watched it already. At least it’s fairly lighthearted and entertaining, with more or less a happy ending.
The plane lands with a jolt, but otherwise, you, your partner, and the other passengers are fine. You clutch tightly onto your partner’s hand. Your original excitement for the trip, has already dissolved into a puddle of nerves. What if that mysterious messenger was right, after all? What have you done to yourselves?
In the waiting area of the airport, you huddle on the couch chairs, while your partner repeatedly tells you not to worry. “It’ll be fun, you’ll see,” they say. “We’ll have the time of our lives!”
Hopefully you’ll still have a life after this. And maybe this was Karma’s way of paying you back for all that you’ve done, regardless of your repentance.
A few minutes later, a lady with shoulder-length, wavy chestnut blonde hair shows up. She smiles widely when she sees you two and stretches out her hand. “Hi, you must be here for Vacation Roulette. I am Sandra, one of the organizers. We’re excited to see you here!”
