Beneath the Catacombs of Madness! A Choose Your Own Adventure Story.
This excerpt from a Lovecraftian “Choose Your Own Adventure” story, unpublished and partially complete, was submitted to The Correctness anonymously.
You are an intrepid adventurer! You are Dr. Louise Klimt, Professor of Antiquities at the Miskatonic University near Arkham. You are well respected, and you have an impressive knowledge of arcane matters and the occult. You are also a sincere looking brunette woman with knowing doe-eyes. Maybe you are a red head, but most likely you are a brunette. Whatever the case, you are an implausible knockout babe. Just to be really clear, you are not a blonde. Oh, and you paid your way through grad school by being a dancer- a legitimate one- maybe not- no, definitely not. Yeah, actually, you were a stripper, but in a self- actualized kind of way, you know, like you were really comfortable with your sexuality, so you could strip and still not get caught up in the awful culture of that trade. Only once or twice did you seduce one of your fellow strippers, and it was all in good fun.
Today a letter arrived at your door. It was an urgent missive from a friend who had journeyed to the deepest heart of the Amazon. It contained a dire warning.
“Dear Dr. Klimt:
I fear things here have gone horribly awry. Half of the archaeological team is missing, and Jenkins seems possessed by some ancient spirit- it’s hard to say if he stumbled upon some jungle hallucinogen or not, but he keeps repeating “h’nglui mglw’nafh Cthulhu R’lyeh wgah’nagl fhtagn,” and I fear that means our team is in great peril. Please send assistance as soon as humanly possible, we will need your expertise most urgently!
Sincerely,
Jonothan Buckmueller”
What do you do?
If you would like to hastily arrange travel to the Amazon, flip to page 17.
If you would like to reminisce about your lesbian experiences in college, flip to page 29.
Page 29:
Terrified for your Friend Jonothan Buckmueller, you arrive at your home in the historic Klimt Manor and make your way to the library. There, you will have the privacy to think and consider your options.
To take your mind off things, you slip into something more comfortable than your fitted academic garb, opting instead to change into your favourite costume piece from your days at the club, and elaborate and lacy French maid ensemble.
Able to relax for a moment, you find yourself in a meditative state, able to recall in precise detail the night you delicately seduced a new young dancer with your wiles, wanting, in a way, to both punish and sensually reward her for the charm of her naivete. She was fresh from a small town, and had no idea how to cope with the overwhelming sexual authority you exuded. So easily you unlaced her corset and ran your other silk gloved hand up the soft skin of her inner thigh, kissing the side of her neck.
If you want to rush to the amazon now, flip to page 27.
If you want to become visibly aroused, and be interrupted by the milk maid who, alarmed by your saucy attire, spills cold, fresh milk all over herself, flip to page 18.
