A Great Disappointment

“I knew there was something off about the ad.”

A gorgeous brunette twirling her long hair, with her laptop in front of her.
AI image generated by author via Nightcafe
Click here for the previous chapter. Or go to the chapter guide.

This is an alternative chapter of ‘Vacation Roulette,’ a choose your own adventure story. The original chapter was written by Linden Schneider here. See the bottom of this story for more details.

On this dark survey for Vacation Roulette, the last question asks:

Would you kill your partner to save ten lives?

Holy, of course not! That’s crazy. What kind of question is this? From experience, when someone claims you can “save ten lives” by killing someone, they actually mean that all eleven people will die.

You’re not falling for that crap.

So you click No.

At this point, your partner returns, a mug of hot chocolate in their hands.

You’re relieved that the question disappeared, but now you see a circle spinning as the system processes your response.

Your partner glances at the screen and then at you. “What’s with that?”

You shrug. At long last, the screen reappears. It says:

Thank you for completing the quiz. Click Next for your partner to complete the questionnaire.

You do a double take at how they knew about your partner.

Then you recall that in the intake form, you had to answer how many others were coming on vacation with you, and what your relationship was with them.

Your partner hops into the chair you vacated.

With some anxiety, you leave for the kitchen, and you call out, “Tell me when you’re done!”

“I’ll be quick,” your partner replies.

Somehow, you doubt that they’d be quick.

After what feels like a long time, your partner calls your name. When you reach them, they have a deep frown on their face. “What a weird and disturbing questionnaire.”

You nod in vehement agreement. But you are nervous wondering what your partner answered for the last question.

The new screen takes a while to load. To your astonishment, a big sad emoji pops up on the page. Underneath, it says:

We are sorry but you are not a good fit for Vacation Roulette. Thank you for your interest and have a great day.

You exchange a glance with your partner. They furrow their brow. “That really sucks. I knew there was something off about the ad. It was too good to be true. With the deranged questions they asked us, it might be better to stay away from them anyway.”

You nod but deep down, you haven’t quite given up.

That night, as you’re preparing for bed, your phone vibrates with a message.

It’s from an unknown number and it reads:

We’re sorry that you could not sign up for our vacation. However, we’d like to offer you another opportunity! If you complete another task, you’ll be able to come on vacation with us. Would you like to find out more? Text YES to receive more info.

Hmm, there’s no harm in learning what the task is. You felt bummed about not qualifying, so here’s your chance. So you text YES.

After a short moment, you see this text message:

Thank you for your interest! You have 24 hours to complete the following task. If it remains incomplete in 24 hours, we will be forced to follow up.

What? You thought you just agreed to get more information. You never agreed to anything.

The message continues:

You must go to 613 Maple Ave between 1:00 am and 3:00 am, break into the house, make your way to the main bedroom, and retrieve the gold locket from the jewelry box on the dresser. The residents may or may not be armed.

You must then take the locket to the coffee shop on the corner of Main Street and Church Street at 9:00 am and give it to the person in the red hoodie reading a Jim Butcher novel.

Wow, you can’t believe your eyes. They just asked you to rob someone’s house.

It’s not that you’ve never done it before, but you haven’t in a while, and you vowed to never go back to that old life.

But it would be a happy surprise if you got to go on vacation, after all. And who knows what the messenger meant about being “forced to follow up” after 24 hours?

You can also consult your partner, since they’ve always had a better sense of right and wrong.

What do you do?

  1. Consult your partner.
  2. Just do the task without telling them.

Note: As mentioned in the blurb above, Linden Schneider wrote the original chapter. I wanted to cross post Vacation Roulette to my Ghost website, so that non-Medium member readers can access the game without a paywall.

However, I was unable to reach Linden, as she has left Medium and has not responded to my messages or emails. Hence, I will write new beginning chapters (alternative beginnings), which I will cross-post to my Ghost site. The basic plot will be the same, but many of the details will be different.