|
| |
| Fahrengeit @ 10 февраля 2019, 17:46 | | Конечно, можно. Ты сейчас по сути половину игры пропустил :) |
Ух ты, серьезно, что ли? Тогда на выборе "сказать адрес или не говорить" должна выть сирена и мигать лампочки, потому что это главный выбор игры. Или нет. Получается, что во вторую половину игры можно попасть только при выполнении обоих условий "Кэрол сказала адрес лаборатории" и "Герой не сказал свой адрес", и если любое из этих условий нарушено, игра отправляет его в ванную ждать полиции/вызывать полицию самому.
Потыкал вторую половину игры. Что-то как-то много хитростей нужно для прохождения - при любом чихе персонажа выкидывают из клиники на улицу,
|
| притом, что он УКУШЕН И ЗАРАЖЕН ЗОМБИ-ВИРУСОМ
и зомби, который его укусил, до обращения был пациентом В ЭТОЙ САМОЙ КЛИНИКЕ
и что у него есть на телефоне железобетонное доказательство - ВИДЕО БЕСНУЮЩЕГОСЯ НА БАЛКОНЕ ЗОМБИ |
|
|
| Patient Zero
You see some strange cloudy dreams about the end of the world as usual when some terrible ringing noise wanders into your dream and drags you back in reality.
After fumbling under pillow you find out it's not your phone that ringing. It's 8 am on the screen, your alarm goes off at 9. And it's Saturday, a day off!
You try to stand up. It isn't an easy task as you learn on the way because of a splitting head and a raging hangover, but you cope. Still, it was only a first step and there were so many. Is it worth it? Just turn off sound in your head and get back to sleep.
But you go the hard way and decide to disable the alarm manually.
You look around. The room is familiar, it's your room after all, though in a huge mess. Bottles of whiskey are on the floor next to the broken kitchen chair, floor is littered with cigarette butts, and, most disturbing, a switched-on TV set shows two words "YOU DIED". Also you note the source of annoying sound is not in this room.
You justly decide that important stuff won't be so easily forgotten and leave the room towards the sound. And sound leads you to the kitchen.
There, near the fridge with a slightly open door, you see sprawled man... wait, it's Danny, Danny Stuart, your college friend. Same fine-looking Danny with blonde hair, a big mustache, and a small shiny earring. How much did you drink to forget he came? Anyway, you notice a ringing phone, that cold-blooded dream killer, in his right hand.
You lean in to your friend and touch his hand to release the phone but feel sudden unusual cold you were not expecting.
You don't have time to think about it as you feel a sharp pain in your left leg.
You scream.
You fall and see, how Danny bites into your leg. It reminds you of insufferable pain.
Without hesitation, you hit your friend in the head. After such impact he lets go of leg, and you instinctively crawl back.
You notice Danny's face, paler than usual, and his soaked in your blood mustache. It is not same Danny after all. You don't want to think "zombie".
Then you examine your wound. It's a small bite, you'll probably live, for now at least.
But a small pause before next attack ended: Danny is already up. He growls and clumsily rushes at you. You notice a kitchen chair nearby.
You quickly stand up and spot a kitchen knife on the table.
Stuart is ready to pounce.
You grab a knife. "Stop, Danny, I'm armed now!" you shout for some reason. He doesn't respond. You don't have much of a choice.
You slice your friend's shoulder but he doesn't react on this in any way and doesn't feel any pain. There is only one way.
You strike Danny with all might in the eye, the easiest way to his brain, and you manage to pierce him. Danny's body immediately goes limp and collapse, leaving you with his blood on your hands. Arisen silence quickly fills with a noise of your thoughts.
You are hoping it's a dream.
You instinctively try to forget the whole thing. You close your eyes. You see Danny's horrible face.
Same strange cloudy dream.
You feel your eyes get wet.
Just snooze these nasty thoughts.
You search for a switch in your head. But there is none.
It's your dream time.
You feel tears run down.
Another terrible ringing noise wanders into your dream.
You hear a phone ringing, similar sound but not the same from before. Someone is probably calling.
You cautiously approach Danny's phone and pick it up with shaking hands. Name "Carol. Lab" shows on the screen. Lab? What lab? Why is it in his contacts? Looks very shady.
You hit green button.
"Hello, Daniel?" woman voice asks.
You don't say a word.
"You didn't forget it's a test today, right?"
"Yes. A test."
"You sound not so enthusiastic. Well, frankly speaking, everyone does not. That's why we are paying money for this."
"It's just the morning," you answer with a sleepy voice. "I'll come, of course."
"Wonderful, that's what I wanted to hear. We wait for you at 1 pm, don't be late."
"What's the address?"
"It's 1983 Moore Avenue. You've been there just yesterday, how could you for-. Daniel, answer me, please, are you sober?" Carol asks with a hint of suspicion.
"No, and you shouldn't be, too."
"What-"
"How can you live like that? This life is so depressing. The only thing is to get drown in alcohol to escape from all this sadness and bitterness."
"Oh my god, you are drunk. It was clearly explained that you can't drink during medical trials. Was it so hard?" Carol is clearly unhappy. "I need to warn Professor Stallman. And you should come to the lab immedi- well, when you'll sober up. We'll decide then what to do with you." Carol hangs up.
You found out there is going to be some test. It should be somehow connected to the lab thing, right? And you know the address, so it is something. You can even call it lucky.
Pain comes back. You need to do something with your wounds. Bite on the leg is not critical but it's better to do something with it.
You go to the bathroom. There are all your medicaments: bandages, medical alcohol. But then you remember. This is a zombie bite.
"But it's only an ankle!" you think. You've watched a lot of zombie horrors to know that sometimes you can save your life by amputating a part of body. Infection just won't go through. But you need something sharp.
You finally come to a think that this is a terrible idea and go back to tending your wounds. You open the bottle of medical alcohol and pour it onto the wound. It's a hell of a pain. You squeeze eyes because of it.
And then you apply bandages. A lot of bandages. After that it's still hard to walk but it is something.
You return to your room. It's still a mess. You start to think that this is almost a reflection of your own situation right now. What to do next? What is better to do next?
You fall into thoughts again.
"Will I turn to zombie too?" you think. "How long do I have? Two days? Two hours?"
"And what do I know? It's not movies, after all."
"Will this Carol help?" you think. "She and her lab could be the reason of this happening. How she could even help?"
"But what if she doesn't know about anything?" you reason with yourself. "She should be a doctor, maybe, she can think of something!"
You decide to stick with Carol. It's your only lead, and it can be very promising. But first you need to gather all information you have.
You return to that call.
Main thing: you have the address and ready to go. If you are ready, of course.
It is very hard to search your dead friend's body. Especially when you did it to him. You close eyes and search pockets blindly but bloody image gets in your head and almost make you puke. And still, you don't find anything of value on him.
You search the pockets of Danny's coat. Firstly, you find your keys. (Why are they even there?) But in another pocket you find a wallet. It has some money and, most importantly, it has some passcard from Fairview Medical Center. With a little googling you match this clinic name with the address you got from a call .
Even a thought disgusts you, but a photo of Danny's body can serve a proof, so you make one with your phone. It looks like dead body.
Now, when you have everything, you dress, take Danny's phone just in case and leave the apartment.
You arrive at clinic fifteen minutes to appointed time. You see a usual lobby with registration desk in the center. At right you notice some doctor passes through a turnstile. You have Daniel's passcard.
You come closer to registration desk and find a free receptionist. He smiles at you and speak:
"Hello, sir. How can I help you?"
"I have an appointment."
"Great. What's your name?"
"Daniel Stuart," you say in hope they don't store photos of patients and guests.
"Da-ni-el Stu-art," he murmured while typing. "Yep, you have an appointment at 1 pm, right? Though, I guess, you should have our passcard."
And you have.
"Oh, right, I have it," you make a surprised face.
"Thanks."
"Glad to help you."
You move away from the desk.
You are still in a lobby with registration desk in the center. At right there is a turnstile. You have Daniel's passcard.
You move towards a turnstail. There is a panel for passcards on the left. To the right there is a security stand where a security guard, presumably, checks all incoming visitors.
You swipe the card over the panel and it shows a green circle. Good to go.
You go through the turnstail. Danny's phone shortly rings. It's a message from Carol: "Where are you? Room 305, in case you forgot again.
"Ok, room 305 it is," you think. "Let's see if you have some answers, Carol."
While waiting for the elevator you notice that your morning headache got only worse, it got to that level when you can't easily ignore it. It's hard to say the hangover is still a fault with a zombie's bite in a picture.
"Everything will be ok," you think, though there is no confidence in these thoughts.
Elevator doors open in front of you. You enter and press "3" on panel, sending the elevator to the third floor.
You examine the surroundings. There are not so many people on a floor, probably Saturday is not the busiest day in the clinic. You walk past two doors and get the destination.
You enter the room and see a typical medical room: cabinets with equipment, a patient bed next to the right wall and a doctor's desk with the monitor on it and a lot of files next to a keyboard. Behind the desk, you see a woman with auburn hair, thick glasses and in a lab coat, busy signing some papers.
"You are right on time, Daniel," she says not looking up. You are sure it's Carol, the one you spoke to on the phone. "Let's talk about your situation-" she stops when she raises head and sees you. "Sorry, I've taken you for someone else. Do you have an appointment?"
"Daniel won't come."
"Oh my- it's you. You, from the call. " Carol in swift move picks up a phone from the desk. "For your knowledge, I am calling the security. To leave would be the best idea for you."
You need to choose your words carefully.
"Daniel-"
"Hello, security?"
"Daniel needs-"
"It's Carol Lang."
"Daniel needs help!" you quickly say.
Carol looks into your eyes and says to the phone: "Sorry, false alarm." — and hangs up. "I won't regret this, right?"
You tell her about the morning and finding Daniel in the kitchen, cold. Carol asks you what happened next.
You colorfully describe your fight with a Daniel you came out as a winner. Carol says it's unnecessary details.
You take your phone and show Carol a picture you've made this morning.
"Ok, stop, please. That's gross and looks too realistic. Tell me. What did you try to achieve? I'm very intrigued. Is it some sort of prank? Or did you and Daniel really try to build a case with this? I knew there was something with Daniel, his nature spoke to me. But I haven't imagined he would go that far. Well, every day you learn something new."
"Daniel is dead!"
Her words are really getting you out of the balance.
"Come on. I get fun. I love fun too. Some other person would have thrown you out in the beginning, but I think it is not fair. I mean, you've tried. It's worth something, at least some attention."
"Daniel almost killed me!" you shout.
"Don't shout at me. This is not so fun anymore. Please. Leave the room. Or it won't end like a harmless joke."
"Come to-"
And then you feel a sudden headache. Pain is so strong that you lose orientation in space, putting hands forward in search of support. You feel vomit coming to a throat and find the closest bin with medical wastes, good thing it really was nearby.
Though pain isn't going to disappear, it fills your whole body, clouds your mind and gradually leads you to unconsciousness.
Mind finally goes blank.
You slowly open your eyes. You don't know how much time has passed while you were out. Echoes of previous pain are still here but it doesn't turn you inside out at least.
You find yourself in an unknown room on the medical bed. There is a woman behind the desk, writing something down.
"Carol?" you ask.
"Oh, you're awake. Sorry, Carol isn't here, she has some other patients. But I don't really think she'll want to see you."
"Why am I here?"
"Did you forget? You fell unconscious, we've hospitalized you and made some blood tests. We should wait for results, though."
"I don't have time."
"I understand. But I will need some info, so we can call if something goes up with tests.
"Okay."
"Great. Hope everything will be ok with results."
"But they wouldn't be," you think and get up from the bed.
You leave the lab building and finally look at your phone: it's 5 pm and there is a missed call from your mother. You slowly move to the bus stop and notice that everything became blurry.
Maybe that is the wrong move — go away from the place that can help you. But, probably, you don't think they can. Or someone really can. At the end of the day, you are alone with your story tales about zombies, unstopping headache, and a dead friend on the floor.
You sit on a bench.
You were so sure about that phone call. It was so obvious. But it still led you to a dead end.
You gained nothing, though you realize now that you wouldn't get a thing in any other way. Something as extreme as a lethal virus wouldn't leave such a big trail.
Bus stops near you.
And what with Carol? She doesn't know anything and her reaction was sincere? It comes as a revelation to you that every sane person will escape from the truth like this. No one wants a reality where dead come to life. And everyone will want to keep it a secret.
You find a far corner and sit there.
You're looking at city's streets fleeing away. But all you see is Danny's face. You can't get it out of your head. Would be a death from his hands better than death from unknown infection?
Your head is almost exploding, and everything is and blurry and shaking now.
You're getting off the bus and slowly waddling towards your house. Every step is hard to make and you're doing everything in your power not to collapse.
You enter your building, go to the tenth floor and open the door with the second attempt.
Everything is in the same condition you left it. Danny's body included.
You are trying to find something in the fridge to satisfy your hunger. Combining with your condition, food doesn't bring any pleasure. And no human brains there too.
You watch your favourite film of Edgar Wright. "Hot Fuzz".
You watch your favourite film of Danny (ha!) Boyle. "Trainspotting".
You watch your favourite film of Ruben Fleischer. "Venom".
It's morning again.
You play your favourite game from Capcom. "Devil May Cry".
You play your favourite game from Telltale. "Wolf Among Us".
You call your mom. She is very surprised by your call, though she can't help but notice you troubled with something. You say it's nothing to worry about and that it's nice to hear her voice.
You call all your friends – Danny's not the only one. You tell some stories and jokes, having some fun you've lacked. And you're agreeing to meet up sometime, next Saturday, for example. You won't be there, though.
You find a lost bottle of whiskey and drink it. Nice addition to your "morning hangover".
Suddenly you hear a ringbell.
You open the door and see lab workers in doctor coats. Two of them take you in their armslab: and you can't really doing anything with it. Several others enter your apartments and find Danny's body. They don't say anything and give order to leave to a pair that holds you.
You leave your apartment behind, knowing very well that the last time.
Epilogue
You see some strange cloudy dreams about the end of the world as usual when some terrible ringing noise wanders into your dream and drags you back in reality.
After fumbling under pillow you find out there is no pillow. And it's not a phone that rings — it's your head. Everything is fuzzy, your body is shaking, you never felt so terrible. Though you knew it was coming.
You focus your sight and notice a woman with auburn hair, thick glasses and in a lab coat. You know it's Carol.
"Hi. How are you?"
You try to say something but you don't have any strength to it. You feel that you are breaking apart.
"I've heard you called for me back in the lab. Sorry I couldn't get to you earlier."
She doesn't sound sincere.
"You know, I really didn't believe you. It was a nonsence. You can't believe such stories, I'm a doctor, after all, I've thought I've seen everything," she pauses. "But I was wrong."
You mumble something back.
"Now. We do everything that's in our powers. Daniel's blood and your blood helps us a lot in this research. I can't say for sure, but I think we found an origin of cause. Did you know Danny had other trials? He was specifically asked if he had, but he lied."
You have a glance of a smile on your face.
"Not one another. Several. And everything combined created an unprecedented reaction. Created a zombie virus. Fascinating."
You don't find it so fascinating.
"And with your help, with your samples, we can underline the compound and think of a vaccine. If something will happen next time, we can prevent it."
"I'm glad I could visit you again before it's over. It was important for me to say this. Thank you."
"I was happy to know you. Have a good sleep. And goodbye."
Go back to cloudy dreams?
Ending 7 of 7 |
|
| Fahrengeit @ 10 февраля 2019, 17:46 | | Для того, чтобы ввести Дэнни чуть пораньше, и дать оправдание похмелью и частичной амнезии. |
Ну это все, включая упоминание Дэнни, можно было упихать в пару вводных абзацев без всякого ветвления.
| Fahrengeit @ 10 февраля 2019, 17:46 | | это сразу же триггернуло вызов полиции (ты только что сказал, что у тебя дома мёртвый чувак). |
И-и-и он обязательно должен сидеть в ванной и ждать полиции? А если герой вообще не отвечал на звонок Кэрол, а просто ушел в ванную и депрессует там, у него остается только один выбор Call the police и все.
| Fahrengeit @ 10 февраля 2019, 17:46 | | Но и в том куске, куда ты попал, можно обойтись без ожидания полиции — фишка там в том, чтобы оставаться на позитиве, иначе почему у героя вообще может появиться желание что-то делать, если он считает, что всё напрасно. Правда, этот кусок я добавил вот только недавно из-за того, что мне понравилась игра в мысли, но если она так часто блокирует игрока от продолжения, то это означает, что баланс не самый правильный. |
Надо же, неочевидная механика.
| Fahrengeit @ 10 февраля 2019, 17:46 | | Естественно, сделано это было всё для подчёркивания мысли "да кто вообще поверит в такую чушь" |
Ты осознаешь, что это уголовка для оператора? Звонки в 911 (02, 112 и прочие) регистрируются и записываются, в том числе и розыгрыши и заказы пиццы. Если кто-нибудь позвонит с криком "Помогите, меня зомби убивают", оператор бросит трубку, а потом окажется, что кого-то реально убили (даже если это были и не зомби), оператор вместе с парой вышестоящих начальников пойдет под суд.
Персонаж сообщил об убийстве - звонок был зарегистрирован, и хоть кто-нибудь должен выехать на эти наркоманские разборки.
| Fahrengeit @ 10 февраля 2019, 17:46 | | С твоих слов это очень даже приятно слышать :) |
Уделяй больше внимания артиклям (turn into A zombie, it looks like A dead body, reach for THE phone, think about THE lab, THE police arrives). Русскоязычные люди часто не могут в артикли и хронически не ставят их там, где они нужны.
Исправлено: Dangaard, 10 февраля 2019, 17:54 |
|
