Dementa
From Create Your Own Story
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Were you dreaming? | Were you dreaming? | ||
| - | The crash of thunder pulls you from your deep sleep, as you lean foward with a gasp. Slowly, your eyes take a minute to adjust while | + | The crash of thunder pulls you from your deep sleep, as you lean foward with a gasp. Slowly, your eyes take a minute to adjust while the ringing in your ears keeps you wide awake. Your headache slowly abides. ''This'' is nowhere familiar. You take sharp, frightened breaths in panic until you finally regain your senses. |
| - | The stone floor is cold beneath your bare skin, with nothing but a thin, white sheet draped across your young, womanly frame. The light blonde hair you normally pull back into a ponytail falls down across your freckled shoulders. You clench the sheet around you in nervousness, both to keep warm and attempt to hide your nakedness. It wraps around you closely, leaving little to the imagination. | + | The stone floor is cold beneath your bare skin, with nothing but a thin, white sheet draped across your young, womanly frame. The light blonde hair you normally pull back into a ponytail falls down across your freckled shoulders. You clench the sheet around you in nervousness, both to keep warm and attempt to hide your nakedness. It wraps around you closely around your full breasts and hips, leaving little to the imagination. |
You wonder in pained desperation not only where you are... but ''who'' you are as well. | You wonder in pained desperation not only where you are... but ''who'' you are as well. | ||
Revision as of 12:25, 10 July 2010
Dementa is a sexualized survival horror story. It is a new work in progress - please do not edit.
Dementa Begins
Were you dreaming?
The crash of thunder pulls you from your deep sleep, as you lean foward with a gasp. Slowly, your eyes take a minute to adjust while the ringing in your ears keeps you wide awake. Your headache slowly abides. This is nowhere familiar. You take sharp, frightened breaths in panic until you finally regain your senses.
The stone floor is cold beneath your bare skin, with nothing but a thin, white sheet draped across your young, womanly frame. The light blonde hair you normally pull back into a ponytail falls down across your freckled shoulders. You clench the sheet around you in nervousness, both to keep warm and attempt to hide your nakedness. It wraps around you closely around your full breasts and hips, leaving little to the imagination.
You wonder in pained desperation not only where you are... but who you are as well.
Do you:
