Mumbai. A bustling, jam-packed city filled to the brim with over five million people. The prime location for those who intend to disappear for good. Where the laws are forged, bent, and reworked by the highest bidders. A land of opportunity in the city of dreams for those who wish to take it. You're an ordinary face amongst these millions trying to eke out a living as any struggling college student does. Little do you know that your monotonous life is soon going to take a turn...for the better or worse.

Journey through life-changing events of a part-time college student as she walks through the seedy underbelly of organized crime which slowly shreds away every inch of her being until she doesn't recognize herself anymore.

Yep, the frame of reference got mixed up, thank you for pointing that out. I will change the name of that choice to avoid confusion too.

Oh yes, that paragraph can simply go on the first page to avoid repetition. Thanks for pointing that out.

Hi, so I've been working on my story idea a bit today and wanted to give a little teaser...

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Your ears are ringing with a high-pitched whistle forcing you to close your eyes and regain your senses.  

The rubber grip of your revolver feels firm in your hand, yet your hand shakes terribly. Your mind runs on pure adrenaline combined with panic and fear, as you open your eyes and see the flickering tube light overhead. Your body feels as cold and numb as the metal surface of the receptionist's desk that your back is propped against. Your legs and hips lie flat, but your back is propped up against the desk trying to keep your head and body as low as possible to not expose yourself. Bullet holes riddle the logo of a swan in front of you just above your head; the logo of the company you work at. Loud gunshots in this closed-off room aren't doing your ears any favour.  

"Come out you stupid little bitch," says a deep male voice followed by a loud, annoying laugh. "You were warned by him, you didn't listen. You got yourself to blame for getting into biz you didn't belong, you stubborn idiot. Should've just stayed in the kitchen!" He shouts again and assaults your ears with his laugh at first, followed by automatic gunfire at the desk that makes you go prone on the ground. Bullets whiz over you as they break through the desk, your former workbench not offering you much protection. By sheer luck, you aren't shot, but it's just a matter of time.  

You need to do something, and you need to do it fast, or you're as good as dead. Should you try and peek out and aim? No, no he already has his gun aimed at you that would be a death sentence. Maybe just a hand then? You could cock the hammer and fire blindly hoping for a lucky shot, or to at least force him into cover. Just beside your leg, you see a snow globe that probably fell from the desk. Maybe you could try to throw it and make a distraction and get an opening to shoot? Finally, you see the glass windowpane just beside the desk not very far away from where you are. You can run for it and hopefully go through the window, but will you be fast enough? Maybe if you distract him first? 

You have only got seconds to decide, and you need to act now! 

Choice 1: Sneak shot! 

You clutch the rubber grip of your revolver tightly. Even though you have basic training with firearms, it feels heavy in your hands, and you're very nervous. You have never been in such a situation and the stress of it aches and sweats your whole body. Yet, acting on pure instinct and sheer will, you decide what you have to do. 

Already prone on the marble floor, you quickly lie down and peek your head and gun out from the desk close to the floor at the bottom. For a moment you feel time slow down to a pause, the chill breeze whips strands of your hair in your eye from your loose bun, but you ignore it as the man in front of you turns nothing more than a blob. A mere object, just like the target at the shooting range.  You aim down the sights, your head and revolver at a ninety-degree angle from your target. You look between the iron bars, the middle one pointing straight at his torso, and with a squeeze of your finger, you feel your hand lurch back with tremendous force as your wrist stings from the recoil. Your ears ring harshly making you partially deaf for a moment and the whole world turns hazy from the piercing sound. The smell of burnt gunpowder assaults your nose, but as you come back to your senses you feel a sharp stinging burning pain in your left shoulder. It makes you shout and clutch it as blood spurts out all over your work dress.  

You see the man lying on the floor with a huge pool of blood under him. As you struggle to get up while clutching your injured shoulder you hold your gun in the next hand and walk towards him, aiming at him, ready for anything. The site you see when you reach him will haunt your dreams for the rest of your life. A finger is clutched at his gun which looks like a compact Mac-11. He must have pressed the trigger when you shot him, emptying his whole magazine of bullets as he fell, drilling the once immaculate floors and freshly painted walls of the company you worked at. A stray bullet must have hit your shoulder, you're lucky it didn't hit your head. His hand, covered in blood, lies clutched at his heart which has a gaping hole through it. His face, clothes, body, everything covered in blood, and a look of pain and shock was plastered on his face. You feel his dead eyes stare at you, into your very soul, judging you, for the woman you have turned into.  

But you don't have time to feel guilt or remorse, as the massive blood loss from your wound makes you feel faint, and you drop down with bleary eyes that soon close. All memories of the past month flood through your mind and in your subconscious. Every moment, face, emotion, and conversation is recalled by your mind... 

Choice 2: Use the snow globe 

You clutch the rubber grip of your revolver tightly. Even though you have basic training with firearms, it feels heavy in your hands, and you're very nervous. You have never been in such a situation and the stress of it aches and sweats your whole body. Yet, acting on pure instinct and sheer will, you decide what you have to do. 

Prone on the marble floor, you use your leg to drag the snow globe on the floor close to you, praying that the lunatic doesn’t open fire and hit you.  

“What’s wrong little lady? Scared?” He says in a mocking voice and once again begins to laugh in his annoyingly loud maniacal laughter. You clutch the glass globe in your off-hand tightly and swing it at the glass pane. It makes a loud crashing noise as the glass breaks and splinters into a million pieces.  

“Huh? What the...” he says, and you assume he’s distracted so you act on sheer instinct. You stand up and take up the textbook shooting stance you learned. For a moment you feel time slow down to a pause, the chill breeze whips strands of your hair in your eye but you ignore it as the man in front of you turns nothing more than a blob. A mere object, just like the target at the shooting range.  You aim down the sights, your head and revolver aimed directly at your target. You look between the iron bars, the middle one pointing straight at his torso, and with a squeeze of your finger, you feel your hand lurch back with tremendous force as your wrist stings from the recoil. Your ears ring harshly making you partially deaf for a moment and the whole world turns hazy from the piercing sound. The smell of burnt gunpowder assaults your nose, but as you come back to your senses you feel a sharp stinging burning pain at the side of your neck. You instinctively clutch it and feel blood seeping out of your cut all over your fingers. The bullet just grazed you, you’re incredibly lucky. You shudder as a chill runs up your spine at the thought of being so close to death. Just a bit higher and you’d be... 

You wave the thoughts out of your mind and focus on the imminent threat and see the man lying on the floor with a huge pool of blood under him. As you struggle to get up while clutching your injured shoulder you hold your gun in the next hand and walk towards him, aiming at him, ready for anything. The site you see when you reach him will haunt your dreams for the rest of your life. A finger is clutched at his gun which looks like a compact Mac-11. He must have pressed the trigger when you shot him, emptying his whole magazine of bullets as he fell, drilling the once immaculate floors and freshly painted walls of the company you worked at. A stray bullet must have grazed your neck. 

His hand, covered in blood, lies clutched at his heart which has a gaping hole through it. His face, clothes, body, everything covered in blood, and a look of pain and shock was plastered on his face. You feel his dead eyes stare at you, into your very soul, judging you, for the woman you have turned into.  

You can’t stand to look at his dead eyes, so you look away, but you stare at your hands and the weapon you hold. Your vision turns blurry, your head spins as you realize what you have just done. You killed him You shot him. You did this. Taking another look at the bloody disgusting mess of a human that you made you feel nauseous and drop on your knees to let out all the contents you had for breakfast today on the floor. Your mind recalls all the events that led to this, all the events that lead to the situation you’re in right now. Every moment, face, emotion, and conversation is recalled by your mind... 

Choice 3: Shoot Blind 

You clutch the rubber grip of your revolver tightly. Even though you have basic training with firearms, it feels heavy in your hands, and you're very nervous. You have never been in such a situation and the stress of it aches and sweats your whole body. Yet, acting on pure instinct and sheer will, you decide what you have to do. 

Prone on the ground you cock the hammer of your revolver, place just your wrist holding the gun right beside the desk, and fire a shot that makes your wrist lurch back in pain, and the revolver almost flies out of your hand. You planned to repeatedly fire but you underestimated just how strong of a recoil this revolver has and silently curse yourself for not taking an easier-to-use firearm.  

However, it had the effect you were hoping for, as the crazed man lets out a yell and dives behind a pillar in shock. Using this opportunity, you now aim your gun at the pillar. Confident that you can still hit him through it. He is foolish to stand behind something that barely conceals him you think remembering your basic training.  

You take the textbook shooting stance you learned. For a moment you feel time slow down to a pause, the chill breeze whips strands of your hair in your eye but you ignore it as you imagine a target on the wall of the pillar, roughly where the man’s torso is, just like the target at the shooting range.  You aim down the sights, your head and revolver aimed directly at your target. You look between the iron bars, the middle one pointing straight at the pillar behind his torso, and with a squeeze of your finger, you feel your hand lurch back with tremendous force as your wrist stings from the recoil. Your ears ring harshly making you partially deaf for a moment and the whole world turns hazy from the piercing sound. The smell of burnt gunpowder assaults your nose, as you come back to your senses. The pillar has a hole through it which did not offer the man much protection since it was made of cardboard. You silently thank your boss for cutting corners and not getting a real marble pillar for the reception area. 

You wave the distractions out of your mind and focus on the imminent threat and see the man lying on the floor, in front of the pillar, with a huge pool of blood under him. Holding your gun you walk towards him, aiming at him, ready for anything. The site you see when you reach him will haunt your dreams for the rest of your life. A finger is clutched at his gun which looks like a compact Mac-11. He must have pressed the trigger when you shot him, emptying his whole magazine of bullets as he fell, drilling the once immaculate floors and freshly painted walls of the company you worked at.  

His hand, covered in blood, lies clutched at his heart which has a gaping hole through it. His face, clothes, body, everything covered in blood, and a look of pain and shock was plastered on his face. You feel his dead eyes stare at you, into your very soul, judging you, for the woman you have turned into.  

You can’t stand to look at his dead eyes, so you look away, but you stare at your hands and the weapon you hold. Your vision turns blurry, your head spins as you realize what you have just done. You killed him You shot him. You did this. Taking another look at the bloody disgusting mess of a human that you made you feel nauseous and drop on your knees to let out all the contents you had for breakfast today on the floor. Your mind recalls all the events that led to this, all the events that lead to the situation you’re in right now. Every moment, face, emotion, and conversation is recalled by your mind... 

Choice 4: Run for it 

You clutch the rubber grip of your revolver tightly. Even though you have basic training with firearms, it feels heavy in your hands, and you're very nervous. You have never been in such a situation and the stress of it aches and sweats your whole body. Yet, acting on pure instinct and sheer will, you decide what you have to do. 

Prone on the ground you cock the hammer of your revolver, place just your wrist holding the gun right beside the desk, and fire a shot that makes your wrist lurch back in pain, and the revolver almost flies out of your hand. You planned to repeatedly fire but you underestimated just how strong of a recoil this revolver has and silently curse yourself for not taking an easier-to-use firearm.  

However, it had the effect you were hoping for, as the crazed man lets out a yell and dives behind a pillar in shock. Using the opening you created, you bolt for the window as fast as you can, barefoot, leaving your uncomfortable stilettos behind, and leap for the window crashing through it with your body, shielding your head with your arms. Luckily, you have a soft landing in the grass, but you feel the sharp stinging pain of glass shards piercing your arms and legs. Some are probably lodged into it but being high on adrenaline and fear you ignore the pain and run for your life.  

The man shouts a “Come back here you little rat!” as loud as he can and fires in your general direction through the window, bullets whizzing past you. You ignore it and run towards the main road where you see police gathering. They approach you, but seeing your revolver, point their guns at you and demand you to drop the gun. You follow all of their commands and soon you’re in the back of a police cruiser where a paramedic tends to your wounds, locked in while the police go to deal with the maniac shooter. For a moment you stare out the window towards your former workplace still in shock that you’re alive and recall all the events that led to this, all the events that lead to the situation you’re in right now. Every moment, face, emotion, and conversation is recalled by your mind... 

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

That's it for now! Let me know what you think of it so far. I was also wondering if I need to repeat the initial common introduction for each choice, or if there's some scripting trick I can use to not unnecessarily increase the word count? I'm not sure so would love some help with that.

Hi

Thank you :)

Hi! Thank you.

Hey, glad to be here, and thanks haha.

This is the first time I am attempting to write a branching story, so I will definitely ask for help with the editor. I do work part-time as a freelance writer for linear creative writing in advertising mostly, but I've never worked on an IF before; I hope it turns out well too.

Hi! So, the story I have planned is a modern adventure that involves crime and drug cartel politics. Loosely inspired by the writing style of BerkaZerka's "Dead Man Walking" (my all-time favourite) and by the Netflix series "Breaking Bad." I intend to show how an average person can lose their morality completely when they get embroiled in crime.

I loved your gladiator story by the way! It was one of the games that got me addicted to CYOA's.

Hi, glad to be here.