Carl stepped through the Western door. He was getting tired of this bullshit now. Always back and forth...back and forth. Can't use the staff here, must do this here, blah blah blah. Whatever.
The room he stepped into was large and full of computers that were bleeping and blooping strangely. Something smelled rank in here too. He looked down to see a rotting body. Taylor was it? Glad that wasn't him! Carl smirked proudly to himself as he heard a howling noise to the South.
The door opened and the howl got louder. Standing there was an enormous hound. It had three bloodthirsty heads that were snarling. They had bloodshot red eyes and they were each foaming at the mouth. Specks of blood appeared all over their coat as what looked like arteries pumped fluid around a translucent body.
Carl backed away as it howled once more, almost deafening him in the process. It flung him back towards the Northern door. Limping away, Carl grabbed the staff from his bag and raised it in the air. In doing so the beast charged him down and made him drop it on the floor. Carl glanced down at the stick and got a crafty idea.
"Fetch!" He said as he waved the staff at the hound's three faces. They glared at the stick, their eyes following it carefully. Carl flung it across the room. The hound turned around to glance at the stick and then straight back to Carl.
There was a leap, a lot of pain and the sensation of his insides being turned into outsides. That was the final thing Carl "two-face" Cliffton felt.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
In the darkness you realise that you're going down. No chance of you going up really was there? Oh you put on a nice front for the church folks but deep down you were a ruthless bastard. Being ruthless had cost you everything for the last time. Maybe you could've done things differently but...to hell with that. And to hell with yourself. The devil probably has a seat waiting for you at the captain's table. That was a warming thought.
Still, you feel nervous.
"I can undo all that has been done..."
Man, undo? That might be good. You wouldn't have faltered back in that first hallway. You would've taken McCoy out there and then. You would've been sure that his empire had toppled. But you'd been jostled along somehow and you decided to go onto an adventure. You met some Greek bitches and they were mostly a pain in your ass.
All that's left is one final moment of joyful reflection. You took the staff. You can still see their miserable faces when you teleported away. That moment will live on in your heart for an eternity.
And if there are any ancient Greeks in hell, they're getting the boot.
You have been killed. This is a sad event that no player wants, but it's part and parcel of the game. It may not be the end though as there are revives from death in this game.
Please ensure you still follow the game rules. You may post in your journal but do not attempt to contact any players outside of the game.