EotWI Interactive Pilot: [PT2] Closet Voice Choice
Continue the EotWI CYOA pilot. A strange voice answers from the closet. Open the door or walk away? Sci-fi horror choice.
“Hello?”
You say it soft. Like maybe the thing on the other side of the door is shy. Maybe it’s a stray cat. Maybe it’s a joke.
It echoes weird. Like the room itself doesn’t like how it sounds.
Nothing answers.
For a second, you think that’s it. A pipe. An echo. Your own knee hitting something.
Then—
Thump.
But not from the closet. From inside your head.
Your vision stutters. Just for a second. Enough for the walls to almost move. Enough for the air to feel closer. Like something just pressed its mouth against the back of your brain and exhaled.
And then:
“You’re early,” a voice says.
It’s coming from the closet, but it’s also not. It’s got that multi-directional quality that shouldn’t be possible unless you’re on shrooms or in a cathedral.
It doesn’t sound aggressive. It sounds… disappointed. Like someone opened a present too soon.
You’re not scared. You’re insulted.
You haven’t touched the door. You just asked a question and something decided it knows you.
What do you do?
Throw the closet door open.
Because screw it—if something’s coming for you, you might as well see its face. (Scroll Down)
Walk away.
Because you’re not built for whatever kind of conversation this is. (Continue)
You Chose Open the Closet
You open the closet slowly.
For a second, nothing happens. Dust. Darkness. Your own reflection warped in the full-length mirror on the inside of the door.
Then the mirror moves.
No—what’s behind it moves. A shimmer. A shift. Something too many-legged pushes against the surface like it’s a thin sheet of liquid membrane.
You don’t scream. You freeze.
And just when it starts to breach—
BAM!
The door slams shut, hard. But you didn’t do it.
You spin around.
Adam and Alex are standing there, watching you. Adam has his hand flat against the now-closed closet door. He doesn't look surprised, maybe just slightly annoyed. Alex stands beside him, arms crossed, looking similarly unfazed but observant.
"Space spiders," Adam mutters, mostly to himself, finally lowering his hand from the door. He glances at you. "They really aren't supposed to be active at this hour. Guess they’re hungry." He eyes the closet door again.
You open your mouth, trying to reconcile the impossible thing in the mirror with their disturbingly calm reaction. Nothing comes out.
Adam finally looks at you properly, assessing. "You okay?" he asks, a little more seriously. “No signs of psychic residue? You don’t look like a meat puppet, but they’re getting sneaky.”
You ignore the check-up and ask the only question that comes to mind. Is it the “who am I?” of your hero day dreams? The “what’s going on?” that would actually be a super fair question to ask? Nope. It’s “what the fuck are you doing in my apartment?”
Adam grins, a flash of his usual sarcastic self. “That,” he says, “is either the right question or….eh. Guess we’ll find out.”
👉 Continue
✅ [Inventory Updated]: “Residual Closet Radiation”