Werewolves: The Apocalypse — The Book of Hungry Names
(Now with 98% more ecological guilt and 100% less graphics)

You and your band of traumatized werewolves (read: a group of poorly resolved furry therapists) must save the Living Earth using two infallible ingredients: homicidal rage and questionable spirituality.

In this interactive novel with hundreds of choices (most leading to inevitable doom), you'll have the chance to face a Wyrm Spirit that manifests itself as... a lie you really want to believe. Like that voice that says "I'll start my diet tomorrow." Only with more cosmic destruction.

 Written by Kyle Marquis and set in the wonderful (cough) universe of World of Darkness, this epic without a single image (but with 1.6 million words, in other words, an abusive relationship with reading) is fueled solely by the most powerful thing in the world: your imagination that has already failed three college entrance exams.

You are a werewolf. And like all good werewolf, you are a mix of:

Shaman who thinks meditation cures demonic migraines,

Hero that nobody asked for,

Monster with existential crises,

And sustainability consultant for Mother Gaia (bankrupt, of course).

Created by the goddess of the Earth, you were gifted with the ability to turn into a wolf (in other words, walk around naked with style), and tasked with the noble mission of preventing humanity from turning the planet into a cosmic McTrash.

But guess what? You failed. Congratulations.

 Three years ago, your pack was part of the Sept of Broad Brook, Massachusetts (land of maple syrup and spiritual doom), where werewolves still pretended they had a chance against the Wyrm — the spirit of destruction, chaos, and people who comment “first” on YouTube.

While other Septs fell like dominoes at a satanic rave, yours was there, firm, strong, and deluded. Some said you would prevent the Apocalypse. Others just thought it was funny to watch the circus burn.

Now, all that’s left is for you to pick up the pieces (literally), avoid becoming an evil spirit’s kibble, and, who knows, write your name in the Book of Hungry Names — the one that eats hopes, New Year’s promises, and happy endings.

Do you want me to adapt this to become the introduction to chapter 1 as well?

Of course! Here's a Desciclopédia-style warning, with a touch of acid and humor, that you can put at the beginning of your story on Wattpad to make everything clear:

WARNING BEFORE SOME LITIGIOUS SPIRIT COMES TO BARK

This work is a humorous reinterpretation (read: full of irony, sarcasm, dark humor and some inconvenient truths) based on the style of interactive stories like those from Choice of Games. But, before anyone calls the lawyers or invokes the spirit of copyright, let's make something VERY clear:

This is not plagiarism. It's parody. It's a joke. It's entertainment.

(And, let's be honest, not even Mother Gaia would bother to sue.)

The writing adopted follows the Desciclopédia style, that is:

Nothing is sacred.

Everything can be a joke.

If you get offended, congratulations, the system worked.

 This is a tongue-in-cheek homage to the classics of the genre, using the interactive format to tell stories that are bizarre, tragic, hilarious, and incredibly stupid (sometimes all at the same time). None of the original Choice of Games content was copied directly—only the structure was inspired, because let’s face it, reinventing the wheel is a lot of work.

If you want an epic journey with deep moral dilemmas, go play the original.

If you want to laugh at your own misfortune while turning into a werewolf and punching mystical capitalism with your paws, go ahead. It’s your house.

Of course! Here is the rewritten version in Desciclopédia's humorous style, with sarcasm, exaggeration and a hint of wolfish chaos:


The crowd moves forward at the pace of a tortoise with a cold, while you, the smart one, stays at the back pretending you're just a tourist at the protest. Suddenly, you feel a tap on your shoulder — already preparing to become a ninja or a victim — and come face to face with Jolon, the skinny wolf with the most ninja-like appearance in the pack, who seems to have learned the technique of camouflage from the shadows and the squirrels of the forest.


"Great day for a basic little rebellion," he whispers, looking seriously as if he were analyzing the menu of an all-you-can-eat buffet. "Avoid the trouble up ahead and use the crowd as a human shield. Keep an eye on the edges, watch out for the ninjas and never, ever trust anything. Not even your own tail."


And before you can say "huh?", the wolf has evaporated into thin air like Wi-Fi in a subway.  If you stop staring, he literally disappears from your eyes' RAM memory.


The line of peacekeepers on duty (a cute name for soldiers armed to the teeth) stops a good 20 steps away from the pack, with a synchronization of boots that would make any military boy band cry with envy.


Ahote, the wolf influencer and leader of the group, raises his paw as if he were going to request a song on Fantástico, and the crowd brakes so that he almost throws you face-first into the butt of an overweight wolf.


You, the curious officer in the story, act like a sideways ninja and sneak to the edge to watch the mess from the box.


A lone human stands out from the mass of soldiers as if he had stepped straight out of a laundry detergent commercial: uniform starched to the core, too many medals for someone who has never even played paintball, and a hairstyle so common that if it were ice cream it would be "forgotten vanilla" flavor.


 But the winning detail is in his eyes: two green emeralds of pure hatred, staring at the werewolves like someone who hates noise from a neighbor or a spoiler from a series. And he even holds the gun like someone holding an umbrella on a sunny day, just to humiliate them.


If you want the sequel in the same style, I can change the next part too! Do you want me to continue?


Chapter 344 - 5