“That sucked,” sighs Maddie Merlot. That sums up the situation quite nicely, you think. Earlier, you neglected to consider that bodies don’t sink unless they’re weighed down, so you had to fish the poor guy out, tie a hunk of stone to his leg, and chuck him back in. You know there are others on this island, and an extra body might scare them off. Not that they wouldn’t be scared to death already. They are Werewolf players.

Oh, hey, that’s right. They’re Werewolf players. 

Dororo’s the first to suggest it: “Do you think we should talk to them and see if anyone’s been trying to destroy their game, too? We might be able to plan something with them to fight back!”

Blandrew nods thoughtfully. “Peaceful discussion is boring enough for me. I’d say we go for it, but I’m not one to make a stand.”

You toss seawater onto the campfire you made just in case, and start to make your way across to the other players.

*crackle* “Things are getting loud over there.”

He’s right. They must be pretty far into the game, because you can hear them talking now:

“My death sequence will be confusing.”

“EVERY TIME I THINK I’M GETTING NEAR THE END, THERE’S MORE”

“Oh boy, let’s kill random people!”

“I HAVE 130 EMAILS”

Maybe you can get them to stop? It is pretty difficult to stop a train once it’s started…

Just as you’re having that thought, you feel the earth rumble beneath you.

Running jokes started here lasted for years beyond this game. We need to stop this now.

The world goes white for a split second. Oh God. The flicker is back. The arguing doesn’t stop, but it gets more frantic. You don’t want to go any further in case you affect anything in their game. You compose yourselves, and decide you might want to give up on them– you’re the ones Disqus is after, not the Lost players. The speedier of you turn on your heel and begin to walk away.

And then, the ground begins to crack.

At first, you think it’s Owen trying to save you again. But when the sand flows into the abyss underneath, it’s glowing solid white. That doesn’t seem good. “Uh, teenager!! Help!!” the Constellation Twins shout towards the sky. For a second, there’s no answer as the otherwise pristine tropical island flashes white. 

“Guys!” shouts the familiar disembodied teen voice, “Stop yelling! You’re going to upset Disqus!”

“That’s not us!” some of you reply, gesturing vaguely towards the other players on the island.

The flicker continues, and whenever your vision goes white, Owen cuts out. It’s like you’re on the phone with him and he’s driving under a bridge. “I r-really shouldn’t be sending you people to crowded games– Can you get the-em to be quiet?”

You have to watch where you step to avoid the cracks forming in the earth, but you manage to run to the players from Lost. They turn to you in shock, the new arrivals stopping the conversation in its tracks.

“Who are you people?” asks Kevin Arzt. 

“Long story. Mostly, we need you guys to be chill and listen for a hot minute,” says Howeird. Several people nod in acceptance.

As the Lost players listen, the cracks in the ground start to reform, the sand that fell into the cracks flowing back up and settling onto the ground. You swear the flickers lessen a little bit.

And then, in one smooth strike, someone chops Howeird’s hands off.

“AAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!” several of you yell.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!” Howeird replies, similarly panicked. He reaches for his hands, but (reasonably) can’t pick them up. He’s fumbling for them when a knife is thrown from the trees, quick as an arrow, towards him. It lands squarely in his back, and he falls to the ground.

Hoho (Howeird) has died. He was a Union Rep hailing from Avocado Studios (Investigator).

“Shit! She’s here! Change of plans, everyone, I’m sending you somewhere new. Hold on–”

As the Lost players look on, horrified, the ground opens up below you. The rainbow abyss swallows you, closing up after you fall in.

“We’re never talking about this again.”

“Agreed.”

“…did those hands fall in?”

The lot of you tumble out into yet another forest, but this one seems more friendly. The birds are chirping, the deer watch you cautiously– oh god, how many eyes did that deer have? Christ. Maybe you could ask that teen where you are? That teen is five gnomes in a sweatshirt. Fuck. Fuck. 

At least you know where you are now. You’re in Gravity Falls, Oregon. This realization does not comfort you when a yellow triangle-shaped entity rises from the ground in front of you.

“Hi! You must be new here. Here, you dropped this!” Bill Cipher levitates Blandrew’s dead body in front of you.

Gramps (Blandrew Blanderson) has died. He was He was a normal citizen of the Werewolf Cinematic Universe (Vanilla Town)

This can’t be good.

Welcome to Werewolf 97: Werewolf Falls.

Bill Cipher has recruited one or two more wolves. 

If a Jailer or Investigator was recruited, their role has been canceled, and they have become another wolf. Recruited Lovers stay in the Lovers chat.

If an SK was recruited, the role of SK is passed onto another random town member. 

Additionally, we have a FUN CODE! THE WINNER GETS A PRIZE

Lsfxzu Wspni veh Kgefhspwh Rlbj

 

Twilight is at 9 PM EST on Sunday, September 8th.

(It’s only long because it’s the weekend, and y’all love to go outside.)