Main Nightshift: Choose your path and face the consequence

Nightshift: Choose your path and face the consequence

story gamecock quite shocking
Year: 2019
Language: english
File: PDF, 20.84 MB
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Il Bernini.

Year: 1900
Language: italian
File: PDF, 33.97 MB
Victoria Hancox



Text Copyright © Victoria Hancox 2019
All Rights Reserved
ISBN: 9781089485285
Cover illustration Copyright © Svenja Wolter 2019
Other illustration courtesy of Owensart

Welcome to the Nightshift - an interactive story….with a difference.
Normally, you turn up at the hospital at 9PM and prepare to face whatever comes through the door. You’ve
patched up gunshot wounds, plated broken bones and drained abscesses. Sometimes, you’ve spent the entire
night watching TV, feeling bored and just willing the phone to ring. Waiting for something to happen.
But what if something did happen?
In this adventure, you are not a hero. You’re just a hospital worker who’s plunged into an interactive battle
with demons, witches and time itself! You’re caught in the middle of a nightmare but will you be able to use
your wits and survive?
You don't have to choose your character's attributes. You're just a normal human doing a normal job who
finds themselves in a strange and dangerous place.
Oh, did I not mention the danger? Yes, you're being hunted and if they catch you…well, let’s just say, there
are many ways to skin a cat and many ways to die.
There's no dice to throw and let's face it - if there were, you'd only cheat. Oh no, you won't get through by
winning battles, being lucky and you definitely have no spells, potions or swords.
What's will get you through to the end of the nightshift is what you already have—knowledge, skills,
memory and a pencil—the best advice is that you make notes of all the evidence and hints you find!
You just might make it out if you can piece together the clues and figure out the puzzles.
If you're ready, we can start. Turn to paragraph 1.

You wake up with a start. The darkness confuses you at first. Where are you? With your heart thudding in
your chest, you grope aimlessly around, trying to get your bearings. You’re lying across functional and slightly
sticky faux-leather chairs. Oh, that’s right. You give a relieved sigh as your eyes adjust to the gloominess and
you can now make out the furniture in the small break room. How long had you been asleep?
It’d been an intense nightshift in the operating department so far. You hurtled straight into an emergency
aortic aneurysm, who despite everyone’s best efforts, died on the table. And once you’d cleaned that up, the
phone rang, telling you that an urgent neuro case was on its way. At least, it’d gone better with that one—clot
removed and patched up, but it was hard to say just how much brain damage was already done. That was
You and Nancy had trudged off the break rooms, where Nancy settled down with a Netflix programme and
you’d gone off to catch some much-needed sleep. You always suffered from insomnia when you were working
the nightshift.
You gradually notice the silence. Maybe Nancy fell asleep too. But there’s something else…. And, for that
matter, what woke you up? You pull yourself off the chairs and crack your spine as you stand and stretch. You
go to the door and as you open it, realise that something is definitely wrong. The corridor is dark. Who’s
turned the lights off? The lights are never turned off. And then you hear it: a lazy, heavy drip-drip. You think
about calling out to Nancy, but your throat is constricted and refuses. You inch closer to the large break room
entrance, fingertips walking over the wall. You draw closer and closer and can now see a flickering light in
the darkness. No sound but the light from the screen illuminates the scene.
You gasp. An involuntary intake of shock and your hand automatically covers your mouth. You stare – you
can’t stop staring – and you know that Nancy is beyond helping. She is slumped over on her side, throat
slashed from ear to ear, stab wounds all over her body, everywhere. An ever-widening pool of blood is
collecting on the floor as, between the chairs, it drips down from her neck in slowly coagulating drops.
And then you notice them. The footprints. The bloodied footprints walking away from the corpse and into
the corridor. It breaks your paralysis and you moan. He’s still here. The murderer’s still here. For a second,
you feel an overwhelming urge to slump on the floor and wait till he finds you. But then, no. You don’t want to
die. You have to get out.
You think quickly now. The Intensive Care Unit. Plenty of people. Plenty of help. That’s the best place.
You take off your theatre clogs and pad almost silently down the small corridor. You pause at a door and then
decisively open it, slipping into the main operating department thoroughfare. You freeze, holding your breath.
Listening. The door closes behind you with a gentle whoosh. It’s a giveaway. If he’s heard that, he knows
exactly where you are. You stand there like a statue for an eternity, although it’s probably only seconds. Then
you set off again. Turning right and running steadily towards the locked door at the far end of the corridor. The
door that connects the theatres to ICU. Only a few more steps, just a few more steps. You slide into the alcove,
trying to breathe without making a sound. You feel sick. But you’re nearly there. All you have to do now is put
in the code to unlock the door.
And then you hear it. A distinct cough and then a door opening. The footsteps of someone heavy. Someone
confident. And…..someone heading this way.
Your brain explodes in a blaze of panic, all neurones firing at once. Get out! You turn to the keypad,
remembering only that the code is the first 4 prime numbers. He’s getting closer. You can hear his breath. You
can smell him. You’ve only got one chance.
With your sweating, slippery fingers, what number do you type in?

2357​Turn to 230
1235​Turn to 97
1357​Turn to 351
You are padding softly down the corridor, deep in thought, when a screech cuts through the stillness. You
gasp and spin around but there’s nothing in the passageway. It sounded like it came from your left, but unless a
stray animal has got into a room there, you’ve got no idea what the screech came from or why. The sign says
that it is the neuro-surgical unit and if you want to enter, turn to 268. Opposite, on your right, is the prayer
room. You’ve never been in there before, but if you want to see it now, turn to 11. Or you could ignore the
rooms and carry on along the passageway (turn to 113).
You need to finish your spell before the demon comes up with something new. You pick up your
concoction from the counter and prepare to add the final ingredient—the dying breath. If you know how to do
this, you should have received the code words. Turn the words into a number by using the code: A=1, B=2,
C=3 ….. Z=26. Add this number to the current paragraph and then turn to the paragraph with that new, bigger
number. If you don’t know the words, you cannot finish the spell and you can rest assured that Jezebeth has
plenty of tricks up her sleeve to get the better of you. Your journey ends here.
You speak the words aloud: An atrium or an epitaph, Gain access through the fourth paragraph. A soft
click disturbs the silence and when you try the handle, the door swings open. You step into a golden room. It’s
a rich shade that manages to be both opulent and tacky and is lit only by a multitude of candles. On the wall
opposite is an oil painting—a portrait of a woman wearing a lab coat. To your left, is a table with a dissecting
dish on it and it isn’t empty! You edge closer and recognise the organ lying in it—a uterus. The door closes
behind you and when you turn to check whether you’re locked in, you see a heart nailed to it. The number ‘6’
is scrawled in blood underneath. Just as you’re wondering how many more body parts does Jezebeth have in
her secret room, a voice beckons you.
Looking in the direction it came from, you see the woman in the portrait adjust her glasses and peer
myopically at you.
‘Yes, you. Come here. We don’t have all day, you know.’ You go over to the painting, completely at a
loss about what to ask it. Luckily, the woman doesn’t have time for your hesitancy and she continues in a rapid
monologue with a New England accent. ‘Number 6 was Elizabeth. An intimidating witch with impressive
powers of crafting spells. It’s a dangerous ability that Jezebeth craved but also feared. That’s why she keeps it
trapped in here but if you plan to concoct your own mixture to destroy the demon, this is where you need to do
it. You must be prepared before you face her. Now I can’t help you much more but first, you must choose the
vessel in which you will blend the ingredients.’ With that, the portrait becomes silent and still—you’re on
your own now. You look through your bag at all the items you’ve gathered so far.
Which item do you pick to craft your own spell in?
A wooden bowl​​Turn to 150
A golden goblet​​Turn to 379
A silver chalice​​Turn to 229
She looks at you with confusion and slight annoyance.
‘How am I supposed to know that? I’ve just told you, I’m not a witch. It’s been over 400 years and
people still think I’m a witch!’ With that, she gives a little stamp of her foot and walks out of the door. You’ve
had enough of the damp stench in this room, so you decide to hobble out too. Turn to 368.

You open the door, dreading what lies beyond. You had a day with a pathologist when you were training
and that was enough to last a lifetime. It’s not as bad as you expected though. There is a body on the postmortem table, but it’s shrouded by a white sheet. Otherwise, it looks as clean and sterile as your operating
theatres. To your left is the floor-to-ceiling bank of individual fridges for the corpses, numbered 1 to 24 and to
your right is the washing and storage areas. You think you might be in the right place to find the exit but you’re
never going to get out of here if that’s all you know. If you’ve been told a clue, you might able to piece it
together. Do you:
Open fridge 1?​​Turn to 141
Open fridge 12?​​Turn to 63
Open fridge 23?​​Turn to 225
Open fridge 24?​​Turn to 327
At the end of the ivy tunnel is a door with five-petalled, blue flowers painted over it. You brush away
some strands of ivy to reveal a sign: Welcome to Periwinkle Ward – Paediatrics. You try to open the door, but
it doesn’t budge. Locked? You’re about to retrace your steps back, when the foliage shifts and reveals a large
iron key in the lock. Maybe that’s just heightened security for the Children’s Ward, you think. You turn the key
and step through into a warm, blush-pink painted corridor which leads straight on until it reaches another door
at the end. There are doors on either side and halfway along, the corridor splits and heads right. The ward is
silent other than a persistent draught whistling in, but then you hear footsteps in the distance. It sounds like
someone approaching the ward from the opposite entrance. If you want to stand your ground and see who this
is, turn to 346. If you think it would be wiser to hide, turn to 161.
You walk swiftly towards the exit, turning left into a short corridor and towards the operating department
doors. You turn the latch to unlock them and step out into the main thoroughfare. You feel your heart sink and
realise that you were hoping it would look normal; that you’d finally woken up from a nightmare but no. If
anything, it looks even worse. Ceiling tiles are hanging down from the twisted metal struts and there are deep,
long gouges in the few vestiges of plaster on the walls. If you didn’t know better, you’d say that it was claw
marks, but it couldn’t be, could it? You take a deep breath and try to plan which way you should go now. What
do you decide?
Left​Turn to 106
Right​Turn to 166
Back at the junction, you can either decide to turn left and go along the other corridor (turn to 50) or you
could investigate the room where you heard the children’s voices, if you haven’t done so already (turn to
Success! You step back onto the Persian rug in the foyer and, with shaking legs, collapse down. The skin
over your spine is still stinging, but once you’ve calmed down, you put the box on the floor in front of you and
open the lid. Nestled in purple velvet, is a black-handled, double-bladed knife – the inscription on the inside
of the lid declares this to be the Athame knife. You place it carefully in your bag and stand up.
What now? Look at the statue (turn to 244) or head for the double doors (turn to 41)?

You step in, let the door gently close behind you and stand there agog. It’s a small room with no windows
and it’s brown. The carpet, the walls, the ceiling – all a deep, rich brown. It’s almost like you’re in a vat of
warm chocolate…or a grave, your inner voice unhelpfully chips in with. There are a few cheap wooden
chairs with brown velvet upholstery that have seen better days and at the far end, there is a full-length stainedglass mural. It’s depicting a forest scene with lush greens leaves on the trees and a deer, a badger and a crow
lurking in the undergrowth. It’s backlit, which is the room’s only source of illumination. On the one hand, it
seems sensible to have a nature scene as a focal point, seeing as you couldn’t have objects associated with
any particular religion, but this seems gloomy; disturbing. You’re not sure about it – there’s something
distinctly creepy about it. If you want to follow your instincts, you could use one of the chairs to try and smash
the mural (turn to 48) or you could leave and head across the corridor to the neuro-surgical ward, if you
haven’t done so already (turn to 268).
If these options don’t appeal, you should just carry on along the passageway—go left (turn to 338) or go
right, heading back towards the operating theatre department (turn to 113).
The pool is like an antiquated Victorian spa but it’s clean, peaceful and the water does look inviting. You
edge closer and suddenly hear a laugh behind you. You spin round and see a green-skinned woman just feet
away from you. She smiles – an unpleasant grin – and you see sharpened, tiny, shark-like teeth.
​‘Who are you?’ you ask but she doesn’t answer. She just smiles, then abruptly feints forward. You shift
backwards and lose your balance. For a second, you teeter, then gravity takes you and you fall with a splash
into the water. The green-skinned woman laughs again. After a few seconds of flapping around, you realise
that you’re in the shallow end and stand up.
​‘Ha ha. Very funny’ you say and start wading towards the pool edge. Just as you grab the side and prepare
to heave yourself up, she puts her hand on the top of your head and pushes down. She has more force than
you’d have thought possible. Your feet slip out from underneath and you plunge under the surface. You rise
back up but instead of emerging from the water, you hit a barrier. It’s like the pool’s surface has frozen over.
Instantly, panic overwhelms you and you hit the barrier, trying to break through, but it is solid. Already your
lungs are on fire. You have to breathe. You can’t breathe. You can see her crouched at the side, simply
watching you. Observing your struggles with a detached curiosity. You plead with your eyes, but she just
smiles. Finally, you take in a huge breath of water and feel absolute agony as it burns your lungs. But it doesn’t
last long. The darkness quickly closes in.
The green-skinned woman watches your body bobbing about in the water, then grows bored and walks
As the lid comes off, you’re expecting the strong smell of formaldehyde but there’s nothing. You give a
brief shrug of the shoulders then insert your hand in. Your fingers close around the tongue but it’s a slippery
organ and you can’t quite grab onto it. You’re so focused on the task that you don’t realise that the jar is getting
smaller and smaller, until you finally try to withdraw and find that your hand is stuck tight. Trying not to panic,
you pull at the glass and almost dislocate your thumb. But it won’t shift. You have no option but to smash the
jar against the edge of the bench. Turn to 33.
There is a long pause, then finally the demon slumps back on her tail and shakes her head at you. ‘Do you
have any idea what you’ve just done?’ You look down at the fractured amulet with crumbs of lapis lazuli
strewn around and shake your head.
​‘You may have won a battle. After all, I can’t kill you or take you over now. But you haven’t won the war.
We are now trapped here, in this realm, together, for all eternity.’ You open your mouth to protest but one look
at Jezebeth’s face tells you that she’s not joking or, for once, not lying. You’re never going home now.

You give the keys an impatient jiggle but either they’re old and rusty or you chose the wrong order.
Erichtho spits in disgust at you and gobs of bloodied saliva spray you in the face. You presume that means it
was the wrong order. You begin pleading to try again but the crone has already scrambled to her feet, taking
the chest with her. She crouches back down over the corpse and resumes her meal. You blew it. You have no
option but to leave the room. Turn to 227.
You have to stand on tiptoes in order to reach down into the bowels of this machine. Sweat is trickling
down over your forehead, stinging your eyes. Your heart is pumping furiously but you started so you’ll finish.
You finally get a fingertip on it, only for it to swivel around, out of reach again. You give a final desperate
lunge and…. Got it! With ragged breaths, you pull the object out and see that it’s a fancy-looking, whitehandled knife. On closer inspection, it has a green substance smeared along the blade, which seems to be…
With an ear-drum bursting shriek, the machine starts up, blades whirring, and the rag doll is pushing your arms
back in. Deeper and deeper. You fight and yell but it’s just too strong. And then, a pain like you couldn’t ever
imagine, as the blades macerate your fingers, your hands, your arms, into a pulp. And all you can hear now, is
a heavy, repetitive thud, thud, thud. Are you dying? Turn to 271.
As you approach the junction in the x-ray department, you see the figure in blue scrubs again. It darts out
from a door on your right and runs quickly up the corridor towards the children’s ward. You shout out and rush
forward but by the time you get there, the figure has gone. You stand there frustrated with your hands on your
hips and in the window of the exit doors ahead, you catch a glimpse of your reflection – standing there, hands
on hips, in blue scrubs! You gasp. It can’t be! You try to recall the figure’s face, but it was hidden. If you want
to track down the figure, take this corridor on your left and head towards the children’s ward (turn to 115).
If you’d rather continue straight ahead and back down the corridor, turn to 354.
With your answer, it gives a satisfied nod and says decisively: ‘The Crow knows about the exit; you will
have to ask the Crow’.
​‘Where do I find the Crow?’ although there’s a part of you that can’t quite believe you’re having this
conversation. But as you suspected, it simply smiles and shakes its head. Damn. Only one question allowed.
But then it waves its wrinkled and calloused hand over the desk counter and, as if a finger is wiping through
the dirt, the following words appear: ROAM OR PYRE. You look quizzically at it, one eyebrow raised.
‘The choice faced by all witches’ it sighs. ‘That’s your clue to find the Crow’
‘Clue? Like a crossword puzzle? Or an anagram?’ With this last suggestion, it lowers its head once
more but says nothing. You look down at the letters ROAMORPYRE and have an inkling of an idea. When you
next look up, the person has gone and you’re alone again. If you haven’t done so already and you want to
explore the cafeteria, turn to 180. If you’d rather head now to the swampy corridor, turn to 70.
Once you’ve asked your question, the Crow regards you with flinty eyes. Slowly, it deliberately shakes it
head from side to side. ‘I had high hopes for you, but you choose to waste your opportunities because you
simply can’t focus. Well, you get all you deserve.’ And with that, it struts off. You try to follow but your hands
and legs won’t move. They’re all too heavy. You can’t even move your eyes now and you have no choice but
to stare fixedly at the mural.
Just before it all goes black forever, you see a stained-glass version of yourself appear in the mural,
peering out from behind the truck of an oak tree, trapped forever.

You look tentatively at the bottles—laudanum, elixir of opium and tincture of morphine—and are
considering taking a sniff, when a thought occurs to you. Could Jezebeth’s secret room be close by? If you
know how to search for it, you should do that now. If not, you decide that it’s probably not a good idea to sniff
potent narcotics and go to search either the hallucinogens (turn to 118) or the sleeping potions (turn to 263).
For a second, you panic, thinking that you’ve lost it, but it’s just tucked into the folds of the bag. The tiny
key slides in and the clasp unlocks with a ‘ping’. You open the lid and gaze inside the box. The book must be
either very valuable or very important to have been locked up and it looks it. The cover is a dark burgundy
embossed leather with the intricate wording: Book of Shadows. You can feel a strange vibration in your
hands; a thrumming that seems to be coming from the book itself. Is this tome resisting you? Well, let’s see,
you think, and you open the cover to see what the contents are. Turn to 196.
Despite the dark blue hue of the walls, the brightness of the operating lights exposes everything in stark
detail. Especially the corpse lying on the operating table. A young woman with her dark, long hair hanging
over the side and dull, glazed eyes staring beyond you. And a huge gaping incision in her abdomen. Did
something happen that interrupted the surgery and they had to leave her here? You creep closer and your expert
eyes take in the stomach and intestines but…hang on. Where’s her liver? This looks less like the sort of
surgery you know and more like a harvesting. Suddenly, the operating light starts shifting, moving steadily
from the dead woman to the other side of the room. Eventually it stops, the beam of light aimed directly at the
operations register and you wonder if any details of this so-called surgery were recorded. If you want to
examine the register, turn to 37. If you think that it may be more prudent to find a weapon here, turn to 246.
As you approach the doorway, you can see an eerie green light emanating. You peer into a small office and
see a computer monitor with its green, standby light on. You gasp. Electricity? Internet? Rushing to the desk
though, you quickly realise that there is no actual computer and when you duck under the desk, you see that the
monitor is not even plugged in. You can’t bring yourself to ask how it’s lit up if it has no power. As you stand
up to leave, you notice the cursor flashing on the screen, then suddenly a stream of letters appears. It says:
‘When I’m small, I’m the longest and when I’m large, I’m the shortest. What part of the body am I?’
Seriously? A riddle? You shake your head, disbelievingly.
If you find yourself in a location which might be connected to the riddle’s answer, add 50 to the paragraph
number you find yourself at and turn to that paragraph.
There’s nothing else here for you in this room, so you head back towards the exit but before you leave,
something catches your eye—a notice board on the wall to your left. You’re not sure why but you feel drawn
to two items pinned up there—the off-duty roster and a postcard. If you wish to examine the roster, turn to
292. If you’d prefer to study the postcard, turn to 179. If you’d rather ignore this strange compulsion and
leave the unit, turn to 311.
You cup your hands into the water and raise them up, but just before you wash your face, something makes
you open your eyes. You scream and cast the cupped water away. The pool is swarming with millions of tiny
centipedes. You wipe your hands desperately against your legs and back away. You were about to rub all
those centipedes against your skin; into your eyes…. You gag at the thought. On shaky legs, you leave the room
and head for the exit (turn to 171).
It’s a relief to be in this passageway. It’s wide and airy with skylights in the vaulted roof and the bright
sunshine warms your bones after the gloom of the asylum. As you approach the geriatric ward, you see another

corridor shooting off on the right. You’re not sure where this leads to – there are no signs. Do you go straight
on into the geriatric ward (turn to 355) or go right, taking this new corridor (turn to 333).
Charpentier heads straight on without hesitation. You watch him go, then shout: ‘What about going right?’
The cat’s fur bristles up and he gives a sharp shake. ‘No, no, no. That’s a very bad idea. Jinny the Witch
lives down there. You’d never make it out alive. If you go there, you’re by yourself.’
Turn back to 126 and decide where to go.
It’s quite a sight and for a few seconds, you simply stare at this medieval figure, until finally it speaks:
‘What do you want? I’m busy’ it barks at you, the voice muffled by the beak.
​‘I want to get out of here’ you eventually stutter. It sighs impatiently then: ‘Well?’ It’s left hand is
outstretched waiting for you to put something in it. ‘I haven’t got all day.’
You have to make a quick decision. Which item do you put into its hand?
Obsidian amulet​ ​Turn to 57
Dried bluebell​
​Turn to 282
Crushed sea eagle talons​Turn to 169
As you inch towards the voice, you can see the refrigerators more clearly and realise that they are packed
with blood transfusion bags. You’re in the blood bank! Just as you’re taking this in, you sense a movement and
then you see her—sat on a plain wooden chair with only one leg. Her, that is; not the chair!
​‘My name is Empusa’ she states, delicately wiping a smear of blood from her lips. You cannot hide the
look of disdain that crosses your face—she was drinking the blood—so Empusa says: ‘Well, you’d consider
me a monster if I were to just sup it directly from the neck.’ You have no answer to that and after a few
seconds of silence, the one-legged woman asks: ‘I know a lot about this place and what’s happening. What
would you like to know?’
What is your answer to this question?
How did Jezebeth get Carmichael?​ Turn to 393
Am I actually a witch with a power? ​Turn to 129
You sit down on the grass next to her and she takes your hands in hers. She smiles gently, as she studies
your palms. You panic, thinking she wants to chop your hands off like Carmichael did, but before you can
jump up, she lets go, leans back and looks at you. In a soft voice, she says: ‘I’m pleased to see that you’re
intact. You have done well to survive so far. I have hope for you, although your battle is not over yet. Did my
dogs scare you? They always get so excited whenever I arrive.’
​‘Who are you?’ You surreptitiously check her out but as far as you can see, there seems to be no body parts
​‘I am Hecate. You are wearing my ring. I look after my babies.’
The sudden change of subject confuses you, but then you realise that she means the gravestones. Now you
understand. These are where the new-borns and stillborns were buried. Hecate looks fondly over the small
cemetery and continues: ‘The yew tree was planted in graveyards because they thought that the roots grew
through the skeletons of the dead and kept them from roaming the Earth.’
Well, that was an image that you didn’t need to have in your head! Was this all she could offer you?
Visions of nightmares! But Hecate hasn’t noticed your discomfort and is still talking: ‘Jezebeth will not let you
go so easily – she will try once more to confound you, but I will give you this.’ She hands you a small piece of

folded paper and as you start to unfold it, she gasps and clutches your hand.
​‘What you hold there is a powder. Aconite. Otherwise known as Carmichael’s Monkshood.’ She smirks
and you get the feeling that, as gentle as she seems, you really wouldn’t want to cross her.
​‘Is it poison?’ you ask, placing the paper packet carefully into your pocket. Hecate nods. ‘Yes, but only on
the mannequins she sends. Beware false friends. This has no effect on a demon.’
With that, she closes her eyes, leans back and melts into the tree. Her outstretched legs become the
protruding roots; her face, the knots in the bark. You go back inside now, heading further along the corridor
(turn to 301).
You are standing back in the corridor going over what you’ve just seen but as you’re trying to make your
mind up about what to do next, you realise with mounting horror that the black, wispy cocoon has vanished.
You look left and right but there’s no sign of it. And then the thought occurs to you and with utter dread, you
look up.
You let out a whoosh of air and a softly muttered curse. It’s not above you either, although there are black
streaks along the ceiling, tracing its path away to who knows where. Still, you have to decide where you
should go now—you can’t wait around here. You could continue along the passageway by going right (turn to
159) or left (turn to 299). Alternatively, you could investigate the general ward opposite, if you haven’t done
so already (turn to 45).
You reach out, grasping blindly for the door handle. You don’t know anymore where you are or even who
you are! You hear a noise behind you but all you can focus on is getting out. Somehow you know that this fog
will lift if you can just get out! Finally, you pull open the door but before you can take a step, there is a streak
of movement and then a sharp pain in your wrist. You cry out and clutch the bleeding hand to your chest,
watching as a small brown snake slithers off under the gurney. The child has gone. You stumble out of the
room and lean against the wall. When you eventually pluck up the courage to examine the wound, you’re
surprised to see two small scabs where the fangs of the snake bit you. No swelling or redness. It looks almost
healed. You can’t imagine that’s a good thing but there’s nothing you can do about it now. You can either head
right and go back to the junction (turn to 9) or head left and go through the door, leaving the ward (turn to
The sheets tumble onto the floor in a tangled, blood-stained heap. The writhing becomes more frantic and
you take a step back. Is it a rat? You see a small leg emerge from underneath the linen. A baby? But wait…
Something doesn’t look right… It doesn’t look like skin or flesh; it looks like wood. And now you can see the
smooth joints and the strings. As it is finally revealed, you realise with a sinking heart, that it is a marionette.
A puppet. Its carved face is angry, with a long protruding nose and rose-painted lips. It is also covered in
blood, almost like it’s just been born, then thrown away…
You slam the door, leaving the Delivery Room and that abomination as fast as you can and head further
along the corridor (turn to 119).
The jar smashes, splintering into thousands of pieces onto the floor and making the mist ripple away. The
preservative fluid splashes your scrubs and as you jump back, you catch a glimpse of the tongue lying
motionless like a lump of meat before the mist returns and closes over it. And then, nothing. You wait but still
nothing. Finally, you decide that this is a waste of time and you should leave. You turn to head for the door.
Stood directly behind you is a woman. You scream, step away from her but skid in the fluid. You fall,
feeling tiny shards pierce your skin. The woman looks surprised then smiles. ‘I have little time but thank you
from the bottom of my heart. Tongues are how we communicate and mine has the power to talk to animals. You

have freed me and now this power is yours. Whenever you need to use the power, speak the word: GLOSSAL’
​‘Wait!’ You cry, ‘What does this murderer want from me? I have no powers.’
​‘All women have the power to create and nurture life. Men don’t. Robert Carmichael envied this and,
thanks to his mother, hated women – it was a dangerous combination. Many fell under his knife, as he tried to
understand the power. At first, he was shunned from his profession, then eventually hunted for his crimes. He
disappeared without a trace in 1898. But of course, he didn’t disappear. Somehow, he had learnt about the
real powers of witches and he made this world. He’s continued his deadly search ever since and grows
stronger with each power. Maybe you do have a power, maybe you don’t. It doesn’t matter. He will rip you
apart anyway, looking for it.’
And then, before your eyes, she fades away, her pale skin becoming transparent, while her white mane of
hair falls and merges with the mist. Well, at least you have some answers now, although not quite what you
were hoping for. You’ve had enough of this place now, so you head for the exit. Turn to 233.
The narrow internal laboratory corridor has no windows, so you’re relying on your pen torch. You hope
its batteries will last… But you don’t need a torch to realise that there’s no swamp here. The smell has gone
and there’s no splashing sound as you walk, although your feet are still soaked and green with algae. You’re
not going to waste time trying to make sense of that though. You go past offices and small labs, but the doors
are locked. Still, you feel compelled only by the large room at the end. That’s where you want to go. But that
door is locked too. You push your face up against the frosted glass in the door, trying to peer through but no
luck, although you’re sure you can see something with a pink glow in there. After considering then dismissing
a notion of breaking in, you head back out into the thoroughfare and continue heading towards the hospital
entrance. Turn to 256.
You carry on along the cold, empty passageway and as you take the right turn, you see that it ends at a
doorway and the door is ajar. If you want to see what lies beyond the door, turn to 257, but if you’ve changed
your mind and want to head back to the junction, turn to 197.
You push open the door and walk into the apothecary. Along three of the four walls are oaken shelves
filled with brown glass bottles of tinctures and below, hundreds of tiny wooden drawers concealing all
manner of powders. In the middle of the room is a counter with delicate balancing scales and mortars. You
knew from the sign of the serpent encircling the chalice that this was the pharmacy but it’s none like you’ve
ever known.
You should explore this place, but which drugs will you inspect first?
Sleeping potions and ethers​Turn to 263
Opium and pain killers​ ​Turn to 20
​Turn to 118
Instead of a patient name, it just says ‘8’. The part where the surgery is described is totally blank and the
surgeon’s name is Lister. Well, that was useful, you think sarcastically. But maybe it was. Who knows? You’ve
had enough of this abattoir though, so you head over to the scrub up area with the exit door. Turn to 306.
You have to lean in to reach the back of the furnace and suddenly, you have visions of the Witch in Hansel
and Gretel trying to bundle you into an oven. You concentrate on rummaging around in the fine ash as a way to
keep a lid on your rising hysteria. Your perseverance is rewarded when your fingers clip something solid;

something metallic. Your first thought is: Great! An artificial hip! But you quickly realise that it’s something
more refined. Especially when it gives a delicate tinkle. You lift it up and withdraw out of the furnace, looking
at your prize. A pewter hand bell. You give a nod of satisfaction and put it in one of your pockets. You’re
thinking of checking out the other furnace when a noise from behind startles you. Turn to 121.
Although you’re not normally a violent person, you feel a burst of anger and determination to end this. You
didn’t ask for any of this and you’re not going to end up with parts of you hacked off! Without thinking, your
hands grip her sinewy throat and all your rage tightens your fingers. She gazes at you with bulging but calm
eyes, her toothless, stinking mouth gaping open. She doesn’t resist or fight you, but you still don’t stop. You
can’t stop squeezing. Eventually you realise that you can’t hold her up anymore; she has become a dead
weight. You let go, finally shocked by what you’ve just done. Her bony body crumples to the floor. You mutter
‘I had to do it’ over and over again but you’re not convincing yourself of that. You feel like you’re a stranger.
You stagger backwards on weak legs until you’re back in the corridor. Only then can you drag your eyes off
the crone you’ve just killed and close the door. You sit on the floor, flipping between blaming this Hellish
place for putting you in this intolerable position and self-loathing at what you’ve become. After some time,
you wipe your eyes and get up. What’s done is done. You need to keep moving.
Turn to 227.
You’re not sure how it works but you pluck the Scarlet Pimpernel from behind your ear and with a
flourish, ask: ‘Who is telling the truth?’ The red petals start to fall off, which doesn’t seem promising, but as
they reach the floor, a vortex pulls them round and round until there is a scarlet twister between you and the
children. With a flurry, it whirls towards one of them, then collapses, cascading the petals like rain. They both
giggle and the child underneath the petals says: ‘That’s right! I always tell the truth—it is the banishing
colour!’ The other child nods happily in agreement and then they both go back to the bridge-building game. If
you still have The Book of Shadows, you could go to the chapter entitled ‘The Powers of Colour’ and remind
yourself which colour is associated with ‘banishing’. You decide there is nothing else to be gained from
staying here, so you get up and leave (turn to 398).
You push open the double doors and stride through without a clue of where you’re heading. Down a short
oak-panelled passageway, you emerge into a large chamber with a semi-circle of tiered seating – a lecture
theatre? No, wait. Instead of a podium for the lecturer, there’s an operating table. Suddenly, it’s clear. This is a
Victorian operating theatre with its spectators’ gallery. You gently touch the table, imagining the abject fear
and pain suffered by the countless people held down and hacked at. Just as the thought crystallises in your
mind – a Victorian surgeon – you hear a step behind you.
Do you possess the Athame knife?
Yes​Turn to 101
No​Turn to 254
It’s almost a relief when your feet sink back into the green mud. There was something about that place that
just didn’t feel right. Something catches your eye, on the right-hand wall, and you move curiously over to it. A
portrait. A traditional oil painting of a group of very serious looking, Victorian men. Doctors, you presume.
You study the accompanying notice and one name stands out: Dr Robert Carmichael. You look back at the man,
third from the left. He’s stocky with thick dark sideburns and moustache and his expression is a scowl. You
look at the painting a little longer then carry on walking down the corridor until you go past the shop on your
right-hand side. There’s no sign of anyone there now and you decide to keep going. You reach the end of the

corridor where it takes a sharp left, turning towards the A&E department. If you want to head there, turn to
146. If you haven’t done so already and you’d like to take a right into the hospital entrance foyer, turn to 343.
You turn what you think is 180° and stagger forward with arms outstretched, but your desperate fingers
clutch nothing but cold air. Hysteria is building to a breaking point when finally, you touch something solid.
Something flat and vertical. Please be the door, you plead. You have never been more relieved when you
eventually find the handle and step back into the light of the x-ray department. Turn to 189.
You turn the corner and step out onto the grass. The scent of jasmine in the fresh air is beguiling, but the
storm must be getting closer—dark, bruised clouds are filling the sky. And the dogs have fallen silent now. Is
that a good sign…?
Despite your misgivings, it is a beautiful place, but then you notice the gravestones. A cluster of them
underneath an old and gnarly yew tree. You venture forward and see the worn and lichen-covered words and
dates. Some were only a day old; some never even breathed but they were all here, as if someone was caring
for them. And then you see one stone off to the side, away from the rest and, brushing the moss away, you read:
Who lies here, nobody knows. No-one cries except the Crows. Beware of lies within the rose. A shiver goes
through you and you stand up. You’ve had enough of this place, so you leave the garden and go back into the
corridor (turn to 301).
The door opens with only the faintest wheeze, but slams shut with a crash. Instantly there is an exodus – a
mass of sharp claws skittering across the floor – and you picture a flood of rats streaming away. At least
they’re not streaming in your direction, but now you’re dreading finding out why they were here in the first
place. After all, vermin usually only go where there’s easy access to food and in this place, that can only mean
one thing. As you walk through the deserted ward, you look at each bed but there’s no corpses. Nothing and
yet you can smell something really bad. What is it? And where is it? And then you realise that you’re looking
too low. Arranged decoratively around the curtain rails surrounding one of the beds, like a Christmas garland,
is a complete set of intestines. The purple coils swell then contract in a hypnotic wave and out of one torn end,
comes an occasional drip of putrid thick liquid. You stare mesmerised for a while—does this mean anything?
—then shake yourself out of it. You notice that the bed number that the gut is draped around is 5 but otherwise,
you don’t think there’s anything else here. You leave the ward and head back out into the thoroughfare. Turn to
At first, you can’t believe what you’re seeing. It’s the adjacent Renal Unit and it looks normal! You pull
back, ready to yell through the small hole, but at the last second, you see something and you pause, squinting
again. It looks normal, doesn’t it? Nurses walking back and forth, patients in beds, clean, no murders—just
what you’d expect—but there it is again. A slight shimmer in the atmosphere. It’s as if what you’re seeing isn’t
really what you’re seeing; as if there’s two images superimposed over each other. But that doesn’t make sense,
does it? And then it starts—a loud humming noise; the buzz of millions of insects. It fills your brain and
finally, you step back from the notice board. Like a switch going off, the droning stops and all you can hear is
the gurgling sound still coming from the second bay. You wish you knew what was going on, but something
tells you that you’re not going to find out any answers here. You head for the exit. Turn to 162.
Charpentier raises lazy eyelids at you, then flips onto his back to give a huge, spine-breaking stretch. He
then effortlessly jumps onto his paws and pads across to you.
​‘Go left first to the x-ray department and then come back on yourself and go down there.’ He has no fingers

to point with but gestures with a flick of his ear down the right-hand corridor.
​‘Why?’ you ask, ‘What’s there?’ But the cat ignores you and starts strolling down the glass corridor.
​‘Where are you going?’ But Charpentier merely leaps up onto the windowsill and slinks out through the
narrowest of gaps. You didn’t even know the window was open but, in a heartbeat, the cat is gone. There’s
nothing else to do but return to 147 and choose the direction to head in.
The chair lurches through the air towards the sturdy mural glass. You envisage the chair bouncing straight
off or, at best, breaking into wooden pieces, but there is a deafening sound of shattered glass as the entire floor
to ceiling pane collapses into thousands of shards. After a stunned pause, when the glass remnants have all
fallen, you face the door, fully expecting the man to come bursting in. But nothing happens. Now that the
gloomy forest scene is no more, you feel lighter somehow—make a note of the codeword: SHARDS and leave
the prayer room. You could now head across the corridor to the neuro-surgical ward, if you haven’t done so
already (turn to 268) or you could just carry on along the passageway—go left (turn to 338) or go right (turn
to 113).
You get to your feet, wincing with every movement. Every part of your body feels injured and each step
now is agony, but still, you persevere on, hoping to get to the end of this black cave. It feels like an eternity but
in reality, it’s only 5 minutes later that your outstretched fingers touch the wooden surface of a door. You’ve
reached the exit. Turn to 203.
After a short distance, you reach the doors and leave the ward, stepping over the blue flowers which have
been strewn there. Just ahead of you is a T-junction, but when you arrive there, you see that the right corridor
is a thin, cold, concrete tunnel that seems to be sloping downwards and looks very unappealing. Looking left,
you see that the passageway continues to a plain white door with the Bowl of Hygieia – a serpent encircling a
chalice - printed on it. You decide to head for this door (turn to 36).
Trying to quash the rising sense of panic, you desperately think of how to summon Jezebeth. You call out
her name. Nothing. You start pulling out drawers. Nothing. You upend your bag, spilling the contents onto the
floor and just when you are rifling through them, searching for a clue, you hear the pharmacy door open. You
look up, breathing rapidly and very, very scared. It is the assassin. Still dressed in black. Still carrying a knife
and still obviously planning to kill you. He takes a step towards you. If you earlier accidently inhaled furnace
ash, turn to 390. If you avoided breathing in the cremains, turn to 266.
You inch silently into the windowless Intensive Care Unit, your eyes gradually adjusting to the darkness
and in this first bay, you can see that it is clearly empty. The beds have rusted frames – some with torn
mattresses, others with brown-stained sheets still on them. But no patients. And no nurses. There are drip
stands strewn over the floor and cobwebs draping from the curtain rails. At first, you can only hear your own
heart thudding but then, you hear another noise. It’s coming from the second bay. A gurgling, choking sound. A
patient? You peer around the corner but can’t make anything out, although you do notice an open door in the far
wall. You’re not sure what this room is but if you decide to head over to it, turn to 23. On the other hand, if
you think you should do your duty and try to find the choking patient, turn to 186.
You pull the door fully open, catching the mop as it slides to the floor. The room is small and dark and you
can just make out some linen bags in the corner. They are crammed full with stained sheets. You are looking

around the room from the safety of the doorway, when a movement catches your eye. It’s one of the laundry
bags. It looks as though something is wriggling around in there. If you want to find out what it is, turn to 316.
Alternatively, you could just leave this room and head further along the corridor into the unit (turn to 119) or
if you haven’t done so already, you could pull back the curtains at the other side of the room (turn to 252).
The jet-black smoke spirals up to the ceiling and both you and Jezebeth watch it in stunned silence. And
then you hear that mocking laughter again. The demon leers at you, licking a spindly tongue over one of the
fangs and you realise that, although black is the correct colour, you must have made a wrong decision in an
earlier part of the spell. You start to feel a strange sensation through your body, as Jezebeth begins to take
control. The end can’t be too far away but before that happens, you quickly think about all the items you’ve
collected. Maybe one of these could be useful. Which amulet do you select?
The one made of Lapis lazuli​Turn to 384
The one made of obsidian​ Turn to 168
There seems to be nothing else of interest here, so you look around, wondering what to do next. Out of the
corner of your eye, you sense a movement; a flash of colours and when you look back, there’s someone sat at
the Information Desk. You gasp in shock, but the person merely smiles benignly with an incline of the head.
You’re not sure if it’s male or female – it’s thickened coarse skin has white whiskers sprouting and has a
crumpled appearance – or indeed, if it’s even human.
​‘How may I help you?’ It asks, gesturing at the ‘Information’ sign, as if that explained anything.
You have a sudden worry that you have only one chance to ask a question, so you think rapidly: What’s the
best question to ask?
​‘How do I get out of here?’ you eventually say. It regards you thoughtfully, then says, almost to itself:
‘Mmm, I remember that. Was it in the basement or the attic? It was one or the other, I’m sure.’ It peters out, as
it muses on the whereabouts of the exit, then squints fixedly at you. Have you recorded the word ‘SHARDS’
since this whole thing started?
Yes ​Turn to 145
No​Turn to 18
Back into the x-ray department, you arrive at the junction and can either turn left which will take you back
past the glass corridor or turn right, which leads you to the rest of the x-ray department, if you haven’t been
there already. Where do you want to go?
Left​Turn to 391
Right​Turn to 204
The figure gives a frustrated shake of its head, the beak of the mask hitting the side of the door frame. It
grabs the amulet from you and throws it far down the corridor. You turn to look where it lands and when you
turn back, the door is already closing. You cry ‘No! Wait’ but it’s too late. You’ve lost your chance to find your
way out and now it’s only a matter of time before he finds you.
You push open the door and are almost blinded. For a second, you think it’s just sunlight, but when your
eyes finally adjust, you can see that the walls are painted a vivid yellow. Is this just to be cheery or is there

another reason? You’re not alone in this room, although it’s not what you’d call ‘lively’. There is a young
nurse sat in one of the chairs and opposite her are three elderly men. You approach the nurse but before you
can ask her anything, she simply wags her finger at you. ‘You may speak with one but only one of these fine
gentlemen. Make your choice. There is Samael, Nathanael and Daniel.’
There’s not much to tempt you with any of them. Samael seems to be concertedly rolling a small piece of
excrement between his fingers; Nathanael is wearing urine-soaked pyjamas and Daniel has an impressively
long string of drool hanging from his mouth onto his chest. You consider your options.
Talk with Samael​ Turn to 158
Talk with Nathanael​Turn to 240
Talk with Daniel​​ Turn to 356
Leave the day room​Turn to 315
The nearest thing is an empty jar. You snatch it up and raise your arm.
​‘What on Earth do you think you’re doing?’ a haughty voice asks. You freeze, arm still in the air. ‘What am
I doing? What are you doing? That’s disgusting!’
​‘Disgusting? Adjusting the position of an electrode is disgusting, is it? What? Because I’m using my
mouth? I’m a cat! How am I supposed to move it? You idiot!’
You slowly lower your arm and glare at the feline, who, being a feline, glares right back at you. There is
an awkward silence until you put the vase back onto the bedside locker and ask: ‘Who are you? And who is
​‘My name is Charpentier and that, as you so rudely put it, is my patient. I’m a chemist by profession but
one could go absolutely insane in this place through boredom, so I decided to tinker with a bit of neurology.
Fascinating stuff!’
You regard the cat for a few more seconds – could he be an ally or is this a ruse to trick you?
​‘Do you know anything about Carmichael or Jezebeth?’ you ask. Charpentier rolls his eyes and gives a
sharp flick of the tail.
​‘I do know that Jezebeth has a secret room in which certain objects are kept safe. Things that could do
harm if they fall into the wrong hands. I don’t know where it is though – hence it being a secret room, I
suppose – although I do know a lot about this place. Cats can prowl around anywhere, you know. There are
some advantages which make up for not having opposable thumbs. Are you planning to do harm to Carmichael
and Jezebeth?’ Charpentier casually licks a paw while he waits for your answer. What do you say?
Yes, I’m going to kill them​Turn to 309
No, I just want to go home​Turn to 96
You walk away from the greenhouse and to the stairwell. You stand in front of the door with the pentacle
painted on it. The 5-pointed star. No. 5. The intestines. You wonder for a second if the door is still locked but
the bee kept her word and the door swings open easily and silently. You head down the stairs. And down. And
down. Until finally, you reach the bottom and another door. You exit the stairwell and realise that you are in
the basement. A basement that you never knew even existed. You step out of the stairwell into a small foyer
that’s dimly lit by an ancient lightbulb, swinging from the low ceiling. There are two doors directly ahead of
you—one labelled ‘storeroom’; the other ‘toilet’. A door on the left leads to the ‘furnace’ and the one on the
right ‘mortuary’. None of them sound particularly tempting but you can’t stay standing there. Which do you
Storeroom​Turn to 164
Toilet​ ​Turn to 195

Furnace​​ Turn to 219
Mortuary​Turn to 6
Further on, you see something attached halfway up the wall. That certainly doesn’t look normal! You edge
closer to find out what it is but all you can conclude is that it’s a black wispy mass. It’s only the size of a
watermelon but it looks suspiciously like a cocoon and you’re sure you can see it writhing. You have a vision
of it exploding with a scurry of thousands of spiders, so you decide to give it a wide berth, while you consider
your next move. To the left is the door to the general surgery ward. You can hear a faint yet frenetic squeaking
from inside, but if you want to enter, turn to 45. To the right, lies the orthopaedic ward (turn to 65) or you
could continue along the passageway (turn to 159).
The door swings open and you stride through into the darkened corridor. Do you have any crushed sea
eagle talons in your possession?
Yes​Turn to 375
No​Turn to 98
And you call yourself a healthcare professional. What were you thinking? There might be 12 pairs of ribs
but that’s not the number of ribs, is it? You close the fridge door and head to the prep room, not at all in
control of your body. You are simply a puppet now and can only watch as your hands insert the cannula into a
vein and then start a formaldehyde infusion. With wide, staring eyes, you watch the embalming fluid enter your
body, feeling an incredible pain wrack your insides. You die with the most gruesome expression on your face.
You aim towards the faint green glow and realise that you’ve gone through an archway in the cave wall.
The humming is louder and gradually, your eyes adjust to the dim light. You are surrounded by refrigerators.
All of them have the green LEDs indicating the temperature but one of them has a flashing red light. Before
you can even wonder what the problem is though, your thought-process is interrupted.
​‘Did my mother send you?’ A gentle voice emerges from the side of the room and, jolted, you turn to face
​‘Who’s there?’
​‘Come closer, so we can talk’ the voice commands.
If you think this could be a mistake, you can leave and head back to the passageway (turn to 270) or you
could do as you’ve been told and go closer (turn to 28).
Expecting an ominous creak, you’re surprised when the door opens silently and are half-blinded by the
bright moonlight. It looks like a ward that’s been abandoned for a decade and suddenly, you’re reminded of
the ghost town created by Chernobyl. Is that what’s happened? You rush to the windows and look out. And
wish you hadn’t. All you can see is a thick, dense forest, encircling and encroaching on the hospital as if it
regretted previously giving up that space and now wanted it back. Where was the carpark? The high-rise
tower block? The dual carriageway?
​‘It’s always like that. Wherever we go.’
You scream and whirl around, clutching your chest. The voice came from the far end of the ward, but you
can’t see anyone.
​‘You’ll have to come closer. I can’t move.’
As you go further into the ward, past the rusting bed frames, you can see that a curtain has been drawn

around the last bed space.
​‘Is that you behind the curtain?’
​‘Yes, they shut me away from prying eyes. It’s not pretty.’
Those last words freeze your hand, which was posed ready to pull back the fabric. You take a second to
breathe and gather some strength, then step through the parted curtains. Your first thought is that it isn’t so bad.
An ordinary looking woman lying prostate on the crumpled and blood-stained sheet, albeit with long scars
over each limb. She smiles reassuringly at you and as you return the smile, you start to see how flattened she
looks. Your smile becomes a grimace, as you circle the bottom of the bed and realise exactly what happened
to the woman.
​‘They’re all mine’ she says, pointing with her eyes at the pile of bones on the floor. ‘He took them all,
even the skull, but they weren’t the right ones.’
You are stood now with your fist pressed into your mouth, trying to suppress the cry or vomit which both
threaten to make an appearance.
Eventually, you realise that you can’t stand like that all day, so should you help to reinsert the bones into
her body (turn to 105) or fetch her a glass of water (turn to 358).
You duck and squeeze through the narrow doorway. From what you can see – white tiles and an ornate
mahogany towel rail – it must be the bathroom. Since when did trainee nurses get en suites? You look up at the
large mirror above the sink and see a scene from a nightmare reflected in it. You scream and clamp a hand
over your mouth. Is that Nancy? A woman with a slit throat is stood behind you. The wound is her neck gapes
horrifically, exposing the ridged windpipe. The front of her nightgown is deep red, but now you can tell that it
isn’t Nancy. It’s just another victim. How many have there been?
​‘Are you here to finish this?’ she asks, the jaw movement tugging obscenely at the wound. It’s a good
question. The truth is that you just want to get out, but it’s looking more and more likely that finishing this is
what you have to do first. You nod.
​‘Good. I suppose it’s not very charitable of me to want someone dead, but I was only 19. 19 and training
to be a nurse. I just wanted to make my father proud but look at me. Dr Carmichael took my virtue then took
my life.’
​‘Can you help me?’
​‘All I know is that the right place to find him, is the obvious place to find a surgeon.’
You absorb her words but frown. That doesn’t make sense! You started off in the operating theatres – that
wasn’t the right place, was it?
​‘Do I have to go back there?’ you ask, feeling overwhelmed with desperation. After trying so hard to get
out of there, did you now have to go back?
​‘Stop thinking about where you are and consider when you are. Now take this and go. Stay in one place
too long and he’ll find you.’ She pushes you towards another door and shoves you back out into the corridor.
You stand there stunned, and it takes a few seconds before you
look at the object that the murdered nurse pushed into your hand. A tiny brass key with the number 21
engraved on it. It must be important, so you put it into the bag and carry on along the corridor. Turn to 81.
‘No, I’m not here to take your blood. I’m here to give you your medicine’ you say reassuringly, as you
fetch a glass from the cupboard next to the desk, put some water into it and stir in the aconite powder. It
dissolves easily and you smile as you turn and offer it to the child. There is a moment’s hesitation, but the girl
takes the glass and swigs the entire contents. She wipes a hand across her mouth, winces as a sudden pain
grips her stomach, then smiles at you. ‘Jezebeth says that you are proving your worth. Well done.’ Before you
can reply though, the child grimaces in agony and a thick white foam issues from her mouth. Her eyes roll back
and she collapses back onto the gurney, contorting with spasms. In less than a minute, she is dead and as you
watch, the body morphs into a Plasticine-like mass. No limbs or hair or even freckles—just putty waiting to

be moulded. And half-buried within this, lies something. It is a deep and dazzling blue colour and you gingerly
prise it out of the ooze. It is a snake made up of articulated segments of Lapis Lazuli. It’s beautiful but you also
think it could be useful, so you wipe it as clean as possible on your scrubs then place it in the bag. You leave
this room but where should you go now?
Right, heading back to the junction ​Turn to 9
Left, leaving the ward via the door ​Turn to 62
With your words, the crone smiles excitedly, looking almost like a child. From who knows where, she
gathers a small ornately designed wooden chest and throws it to the floor in front of you. She squats down,
cross-legged and facing you, so the box is between you both. From a pocket, she pulls three keys and throws
these next to the chest. Finally, she speaks. ‘I am apparently No.1 but I will always be Erichtho. No-one can
take my name from me. This chest holds the answers you need but three keys need to be inserted in the right
order. Which two of my sisters have you met? Which numbers were they given when their powers were taken?
If you know, you will prove yourself worthy.’ She gives a small jerk of her head towards the keys. You
examine them and realise that they have different numbers engraved in the bow. There is a key labelled 3;
another labelled 1 and the last one is 2. The crone waits until you’ve looked at the keys, then says:
​‘The correct order from left to right is the number of the pineal gland, then the tongue and finally, teeth.’
She leans back and closes her eyes. It’s up to you now. What order do you put the keys in?
When you’ve decided, turn to the paragraph with the same number as your chosen order.
Standing in the middle of the room, you can see two doors—one ahead and one in the right-hand wall. The
three figures are in the surrounding corners and are, unsurprising, swathed in grey cloaks. You can see now
that they are old women—their hair is long and grey, and their eyes are tightly shut. You open your mouth, but
before you can speak, you hear:
​‘Come closer, stranger. I don’t see so well although it’s better than my sisters.’ She gives a callous cackle
and you see the woman in the left-hand corner beckoning to you. You go closer and see that she has only one
eye, which is peering at you with a bloodshot intensity. You realise now that the two other women are not
sleeping, but their eyelids are sunken into the empty sockets underneath. Are they more victims?
​‘You are in a perilous place, my dear, but my friend tells me that I should give you a chance to escape.’
She gestures to the fourth corner and you turn and see a large frog sitting placidly there. You notice too, that
the door you came in through has disappeared. There is no way back. The frog makes a strange throaty gurgle
and you turn back to the one-eyed woman. What do you do?
Attack the frog​
​Turn to 148
Hear the chance being offered​ ​Turn to 361
Tear down the tapestry to find an exit​Turn to 279
You step back into the green, sludgy water and think about where to go now. You can either go back

towards the A&E unit (turn to 146) or left, following the corridor to the other sections of the hospital (turn to
You carry on, step by step, except…. Shouldn’t you be at the bottom by now? You carry on, counting each
step. At 100, you have to accept that this is not normal. In the pitch-black, you turn around and start climbing
again, desperation mounting. Where’s the door out of here? At 200, your thighs are aching, and the stairs don’t
end. Maybe you shouldn’t have given up, when you were going down? Maybe the ground floor exit was just a
few steps away? You turn around and start heading back down. At least that’s easier on the legs. At 500, you
slump onto the step and sob gently. There is no way out. You realise that now. Perhaps the next person that’s
brought into this chaos will find your skeleton, curled up in the foetal position, and will wonder - whatever
happened to them?
Despite what you’re about to do, you feel a real sense of peace. This means you’re getting closer to going
home. Carmichael continues to gasp and choke and you recognise that the end is near, but you want to make
sure. You grab his hair with your left hand and draw the knife swiftly through his throat. You keep on sawing
until the head is free and you raise it up, staring into the dead eyes. Showing more respect than he ever did to
his victims, you place the head on his chest then go towards the narrow stairs between the gallery pews. Turn
to 394.
You’re a bit jarred but nothing’s broken. Still, that’s not much comfort as the pit is far too deep for you to
get out of. The sides are smooth concrete – no foot holds, no ladders, nothing. Just over the rim, you can see
the door leading to the Children’s Ward. Through the tiny window, you see a blush-pink light inside the ward.
You crouch down on your haunches, trying not to cry but feeling so helpless. In the midst of this though, there’s
a nagging thought. Eventually, you get it. The pink light! Have you encountered anything that also had a pink
glow? There may be a connection, you never know. After all, if the alternative is staying in the pit, it’s got to
be worth a try, hasn’t it? What do you fetch from your bag?
White handled knife​​Turn to 104
Crushed sea eagle talons​Turn to 325
You think this is where the Crow told you to go but it spoke so quickly, you’re not really sure. After a
couple more steps, you spot a heap of dried leaves on the floor and have an overwhelming compulsion to pick
them up. Almost as if you are watching someone else, you see your own hand raise the debris and stuff it
down your own throat. You start to cough but you’ve already picked up more and are using both hands to pack
it all in. Your fingers are probing deep at the back of mouth, making sure that every available space is
blocked. You can’t breathe, your lungs are burning, your vision is going black and blurry at the edges, but you
can’t stop. It’s as though someone else is controlling your body. Luckily, Death will come soon, giving you
little time to wonder what went wrong.
You hesitantly open the door, fully expecting to hear alarms and shouting. Instead, there is silence and the
overwhelming perfume of flowers. For a second, your airways tighten with the rush of pollen, but then you
relax and take in the sight. There are some machines and lead gowns hung up on the wall, but it’s difficult to
see them beyond the thick carpet of lilacs that covers the floor and somehow, drapes up the walls and over the
furniture. The air is heavy with their scent but it’s a peaceful, dreamlike atmosphere. Suddenly, there is a
slight movement; a shifting of the pale purple petals and then the woman sits up. The flowers tumble off her

and she looks around herself, although you can see that she has no eyes. The eyelids are sunken inwards and
there is just a darkness where the orbits should be. You guess that this is another of Carmichael’s victims.
​‘I’m here’ you say, trying to be helpful. She smiles gently; indulgently.
​‘I know. I see things. I divine. I know where you’ve been, and I know where you might go. My eyes may
be gone but thanks to the lilacs, I still have my power. My humble gratitude is yours though. I was no.11 but as
you bested the tyrant, my name is restored. I am Magda and my sisters and I will be forever grateful.’
For a few seconds, you don’t know what to say. It’s been the longest nightshift and you’re in danger of
succumbing to your weariness, but from somewhere, you find fresh strength.
​‘You know where I might go in the future?’ you query. She smiles again.
​‘There are so many different choices that you can take. I cannot predict where your free will takes you,
even though my vision penetrates over distance and through time.’
You realise now why the red light was lit up! As you’re thinking of what else you need to learn from her,
your eyes roam around the room and in the corner, on top of what looks to be a filing cabinet, is a scarlet
flower. Just one single, solitary scarlet flower in the sea of lilacs.
​‘So you’ve noticed the Pimpernel? Take it’ she instructs. This means ploughing through the flowers. If
you’re willing to do this, turn to 142. If you would rather not, you can try to steer the conversation in a
different direction (turn to 102).
You say the name, but the lab technician simply rubs a hand over his blue-grey chin and shakes his head.
He stares fixedly downwards for a long time then turns and starts going back up the stairs.
​‘Stop. Please’ you cry but he ignores you. He doesn’t even look back at you, just says: ‘You know nothing.
No-one can help you here.’ It seems pointless to follow him, so instead, you decide to carry on down the
stairs. Turn to 222.
You grab the parchment from your sock and re-read it. You thought that Pendle must be a man and you
were looking for his wife but no! It was referring to Pendle Hill, so this must be one of the Lancashire
​‘Allow me to introduce myself,’ she says politely. ‘My name is Alice and I can tell you that the Athame
knife is hidden within a mirror. You must be wise to be able to reach it, but Nathanael can guide you. Ask him
for advice and you will take the knife.’ With that, she gives a slight bow of the head and leaves the room. You
think about following her, but you can tell from the silence that she has disappeared. You’ve had enough of the
damp stench in this room, so you hobble out too. Turn to 368.
You nervously open the door and peer around. It’s just a corridor with oak-panelling, a faded burgundy
carpet and a few oil lamps to light the way. So far, so good. You reach the end and panic for a second, as you
realise that there’s no exit. Suddenly, there’s a ratcheting noise as cogs turn and the panel in front of you is
raised like a portcullis. You look behind you and see that the other door has now vanished. Mmm. Nothing
else for it then. You duck down and go into the next room. Turn to 308.
As you walk to the other end of the laundry, you remember the photograph in your hand. It's a small, oldfashioned and yellowing print but when you turn it over, you're shocked to see the image. It's you! What?
How? When? As you examine it, you realise that it was probably taken last night - was that really just last
night? - when you were asleep in the break room. You stare uncomprehendingly at it and wonder if the
washerwoman could help again, but she seems to have vanished. Oh well, nothing to be gained from standing
here all day. You try to put the photo in your pocket, but they are getting quite full now and you don't want to
crumple it. You're standing amongst the piles of freshly laundered sheets and notice a spare cotton bag.

Perfect. You grab it and swing it over your shoulder, then transfer all the things that you've collected so far
into it. That's better. You carry on to the far end and leave the laundry room, finding yourself in a long corridor
adorned on each side by oil paintings. Landscapes, portraits of Victorian dignitaries and abstracts and amidst
these, a gothic rendition of a dark demon crouched on the chest of a sleeping child. If this reminds you of a
name, turn to 160; if not, continue until you reach a crossroads (turn to 216).
‘Correct!’ they say jubilantly and beckon you over to them. You sit down cross-legged and smile
reassuring at the children. They look at you, then at each other and then back to you. After an eternity, one of
them says: ‘We were arguing about the colour of smoke needed to destroy a demon. I say it should be the
banishing colour.’
​‘But I say it should be the purifying colour,’ interjects the other. You look at both their serious expressions
and say: ‘Well, both of you can’t be right, so one of you must be wrong.’ The children shake their heads in
unison and say: ‘Not wrong. Just falsehoods. The question is: do you know who’s lying?’
If you know of a way to test whether someone is telling the truth, now would be a good time to practice it.
If not, you may have to guess but at least 50:50 odds aren’t too bad. The children go back to bickering over
their bridge-building, having lost all interest in you. You get up and leave them to it (turn to 398).
At the end of the corridor, there is a sharp turn to the left and you decide to follow it round. After a short
distance there is yet another left turn, but before you take it, you hear voices and the unmistakable sound of
footsteps climbing up a staircase. They’re coming towards you. If you decide to go around the corner and take
whoever they are by surprise, turn to 344. If you’d rather stay hidden, turn to 154.
Before it even happens, you know it’s gone wrong. You can just sense the shifting in the atmosphere.
You’ll never know though, that you should’ve used a silver chalice and the blood had to be from the puppet
master, which meant you should’ve drained the uterus. You’ll never know because the finest stretched wire
whips across the room and slices through your neck. For a few seconds, your head rests there with a stunned
expression, before toppling off onto the floor. You were so close, yet so far.
You vaguely remember that Joseph Lister was famous in medical history but what for? Maybe if you knew
that, it could lead you to some other answers. You look desperately around the Recovery area, hoping for
inspiration but there’s not a lot here. Eventually you think you’ve remembered what Lister was best known for,
so you go to look at:
The bottle of antiseptic soap​Turn to 307
The box of face masks​ ​Turn to 264
The ECG monitor and leads​Turn to 175
You crouch down next to Samael’s chair, keeping a close eye on that hand – he’d better not smear shit over
​‘Hello sir’ you say, thinking politeness may help. ‘Have you anything you can tell me?’ The old man’s
eyes don’t even focus or shift but he mutters with a smile: ‘Make sure you visit the physiotherapy room. You
will learn something from Jinny there.’ With that effort, his face collapses again into an inanimate state, so you
stand and leave the day room (turn to 201).

You say the word ‘Glossal’ and wait for a thunderclap or something equally dramatic.
​‘What are you doing?’ The Crow asks, head tilted to one side. Feeling slightly stupid, you sit down, crosslegged on the floor in front of it.
​‘I was told that you know the way to get out of here’
​‘Indeed I do. Well, out of this part, anyhow. When you leave this part, you’ll be in another part and that
part is a very different kettle of fish, I assure you’
​‘Do you know how to get out of that part?’ you ask, tentatively.
​‘Oh no. That part is his part. Or is it her part? I’m not party to that part. All I’ve heard is that Jezebeth is
important in that part.’
You pause and think about what to ask next. The Crow seems to be quite tetchy and you get the feeling that
if you upset it, that’ll be that! You decide to ask:
Can Jezebeth help me?​​Turn to 19
Where is the exit?​ ​Turn to 250
You stride around the operating table, keeping one eye on this man/demon. You raise the knife and prepare
to obliterate the name. Which name do you scratch out?
Carmichael​Turn to 360
Jezebeth​Turn to 290
Being on the floor, you are disadvantaged, and he knows it. He smirks, then bolts forward. You try to leap
away, but stumble. You fall inches away from him and know that you can’t escape. He raises the blade and
then you cough. It comes from nowhere, with no warning but you cough and a cloud of grey ash is ejected from
your mouth. It engulfs him and instantly, he starts clawing at his throat. The cremains pour into his mouth,
choking and suffocating him, as the burnt witches finally take their revenge. After a few minutes, he lies dead
in front of you, a ghastly grimace fixed on his face, but before you can start to process what’s just happened,
you sense another presence in the room.
Jezebeth has arrived. Turn to 313.
You fetch the candle from the bag and then realise that you have no way of lighting it. After all, if you had
matches, you wouldn’t have been stumbling round this cave in the pitch-blackness. But maybe there is a way
of creating a flame—have you been told of a Goddess to call upon if you ever found yourself in this very
situation? Now would be a good time to follow the advice but who do you call?
Amphitrite​Turn to 111
Gaea​ ​Turn to 275
Hestia​ ​Turn to 221
There is a moment of pure fear as you swing onto the ladder, but it holds your weight and seems secure.
Feeling reassured, you start a steady descent. The ladder seems to be made of sticks and branches knotted into
the rope but sometimes, you’re positive that you’re stepping on femurs. You blank that out and carry on. Surely
you’ll get to the bottom soon. After twelve minutes, you see a dull light and realise that you’re about to go
through a ceiling, into a room. But which room? Oh great, you think, as you start to see familiar looking items.
The mortuary. Turn to 253.

You are shocked by what you see, because a young girl with red plaited hair and freckles is sat on the
gurney, legs swinging.
‘You look confused. Have you come to take my blood?’ asks the child but you don’t answer. You can
clearly see that there’s nowhere for the doppelganger to hide in here, which can only mean one thing.
Whatever it is, it has the power to mimic forms and now, it’s pretending to be a child. And there’s only one
thing you know about so far that would want to trick you! This has to be Jezebeth’s work. You take a step back
and consider your options. You could try to get away before anything bad can happen (turn to 285) or if
Hecate gave you a powder, you could use that. She said that it had two names: one was Carmichael’s
Monkshood and the other was…? If you know what the powder was called, turn the name into a number by
using the code: A=1, B=2, C=3 ….. Z=26. Add the numbers together and turn to the paragraph with the same
You pluck your trusty biro out of the scrubs pocket and scribble in the missing letters P and R. As you turn
the page, an advert catches your eye. It’s a Victorian man complete with stovepipe hat and extravagant
moustache, but his entire body is a carrot. Apparently, this is meant to entice you to buy seeds. You raise your
eyebrows at how bizarre it is. The rest of the newspaper is just more adverts, obituaries and local stories, and
you can’t escape the fact that you’re now prevaricating. With a sigh, you put the newspaper down and instantly
it becomes engulfed in a golden flame. You gasp, leaping onto your feet, away from the burning mass. Soon,
all that remains are the black wisps of paper, which float slowly down like snowflakes. You can now either
go back the way you came from (turn to 17) or go in the opposite direction, out of the x-ray department (turn
to 208).
You rattle the small pewter bell and its delicate tinkling sound can barely be heard in the pharmacy.
Feeling stupid, you put it down on the counter with a tinny clatter and contemplate giving a bellow of
‘Jezebeth’—maybe just shouting the demon’s name will work—but then you sense a shifting in the
atmosphere. You turn around to face this presence.
Jezebeth has arrived. Turn to 313.
A few steps further on the left is the entrance to stairwell B, but the fire door has got something daubed on
it. It’s gloomy here, with no opportunity for moonlight to shine in, so you’re relying on the weak glow of the
emergency lighting and your trusty pen-torch. Still, there’s no hiding what this symbol is. You curse and feel
tears spring to your eyes. Not that you believe all that superstitious nonsense but really? A five-pointed star!
What’s it called? A pentacle! That’s never a sign that something good’s going to happen. You try the door but
surprisingly, it won’t shift. It’s locked. You walk on to the end of the corridor, which turns sharply to the right.
If you choose to follow the corridor around, turn to 2. Straight in front of you though, are the doors to the
Renal Unit and if you want to see if there’s anything worth investigating there, turn to 215.
‘The answer is WILLOW.’ At first, you think that you were wrong because nothing seems to happen but
as you study the mirror, you realise that the reflected image is not quite as it should be. You can see a small
box by your feet, so you crouch down and feel around for it, keeping your eyes glued to the image. Although
you can see your hand touching the box, you can’t feel it. There’s no explanation other than the box is only on
the other side of the mirror. Do you want to try to go through the mirror to retrieve the box? If so, turn to 331.
If not, you can either go and look at the statue on the right-hand side of the foyer (turn to 244) or go through
the double doors (turn to 41).

As you stare, half-mesmerised by the intestines, a flash of inspiration hits and you shout: ‘When I’m small,
I’m the longest. When I’m large, I’m the shortest. What am I? THE SMALL AND LARGE INTESTINES!’ But
your moment of triumph doesn’t last long. You’re rewarded by a flurry of scrambling from underneath the bed,
which makes you instantly regret being so loud, but it’s not an avalanche of rodents. The floor itself is starting
to crumble. A tiny patch to start with but the hole grows and spreads wider, the particles of floor now seeping
down like sand grains in an egg-timer. You shuffle back away from the edge but, as quickly as it began, it
stops. You edge forward cautiously and look down the hole. What the…? It’s a spiral staircase. If you want to
descend the stairs, turn to 397. If you wish to just leave this ward and go back to the thoroughfare, turn to
Charpentier gives an upward nod of his head, then starts wiping the paw over his cheek.
​‘Then I wish you good luck. I have told you all I know and can be of no further help to you. If you could
close the door on your way out, I’d be very grateful.’ He continues with his grooming, making it clear that the
conversation is over. You leave the room, closing the door, as instructed. Turn to 126.
You yank the door handle down and pull desperately but it’s locked fast. His shadow looms over and you
turn, screaming. You put your hands up, but he is too strong and the knife is too sharp. Mercifully, darkness
takes you and your end is over quickly.
In the gloom, you can just about see that the corridor soon takes a turn to the left but there are no signs
saying where it leads to. Oh well, you’ll just have to……
Without warning, the floor disappears from under your feet and you hurtle straight down. After a few
seconds of shocked and stunned immobility, you examine yourself for injury. You conclude that it could’ve
been worse—a bruise or two but luckily, nothing broken. You turn your attention on the pit and feel a dread
settle in your stomach. It’s deep and looks like smooth concrete with no footholds and definitely no ladders!
You shake your head in disbelief. It can’t end like this, in this pit. But sometimes, that’s just the way things are.
No going out in a blaze of glory for you—just a slow and thirsty demise.
Back in the small dingy foyer, you look around and weigh up your options. Where do you go now?
Toilet​ ​Turn to 195
Furnace ​Turn to 219
Mortuary​Turn to 6
‘You are kind,’ she replies, ‘but it is long gone now. And it wasn’t a child as you know it.’ You look
quizzical but dread to find out what she means by that. She pats your hand, as if sensing your unease. ‘I am the
puppet master’ she states. ‘With my marionettes, I could control a person. Pull their strings, you could say. I
was trying to take hold of that monster Carmichael, but he ripped the puppet out before it was ready. And then
he took my power to ever try again. You killed him?’ You nod. ‘You need to destroy Jezebeth too. You know
that?’ You nod again. ‘You will need access to her secret room. When you find yourself in the apothecary,
examine the laudanum.’ With that, she gives a painful cough, which disturbs the contents of her abdomen. The
disgruntled and swirling black mass rises up, buzzing in your face. By the time, they have settled back down to
continue their feast, Gretl is no longer with you. When you think you are in the location that Gretl told you of,
multiply that paragraph number by 10 and turn to the new paragraph. For now though, you can either leave the

delivery room and head further along the corridor into the unit (turn to 119) or you could investigate the ajar
door (turn to 53).
You turn around, ready to face whatever is there. A stocky, middle-aged man with dark sideburns and a
moustache is stood between the operating table and a blackboard. Although you know instinctively who this
is, you see ‘Carmichael Jezebeth’ scrawled on the board in chalk. For a few seconds, you stare at each
other but then surprisingly, he smiles.
​‘My final witch’ he claims warmly. ‘I have waited so long for you and your power.’
​‘I’m not a witch’ you stutter, ‘I’m a nurse. I have no power. I just want to go home.’ Your words have no
effect though - he simply shakes his head indulgently.
​‘Exactly. My nurse witch with her healing hands. Soon to be my hands.’
The blood drains from your head as you realise what he’s saying, but a burst of adrenalin courses through
you. ‘Not bloody likely’ you think.
‘There’s no way you’re cutting my hands off!’ and you draw the Athame knife from your bag. Now, it’s
his turn to look frightened but that only lasts a few seconds, then a scowl settles on his face.
​‘What do you intend to do with that?’ he asks. It’s a good question. What are you going to do with the
Cut his throat from ear to ear​ ​Turn to 378
Scratch his name off the blackboard​Turn to 86
You know that the Scarlet Pimpernel is a character who hid a secret identity—so who knows what this
witch could be hiding? It could be a trap built by Jezebeth! You decide that you should try to get some useful
information out of her, so you ask: ‘Where should I go to from here?’ The witch bows her head slightly then
says: ‘Go to the place of pain and joy. Of new beginnings and sometimes, ends.’
You thank the witch for this advice, but she is already sinking back down under her eiderdown of lilacs.
You almost wish that you could stay longer in this peaceful haven, but you can’t, so you leave the room. Turn
to 248.
You have to lean in to reach the back of the furnace and suddenly, you have visions of the Witch in Hansel
and Gretel trying to bundle you into an oven. You concentrate on rummaging around in the fine ash as a way to
keep a lid on your rising hysteria. Suddenly, there’s a small explosion, which sounds as if something’s sneezed
in the furnace, and before you can react, you inhale a lungful of carbonised flesh and bone. You pull out of the
furnace instantly, but no amount of coughing and spitting can remove the ash. You’re regretting ever having the
idea of checking out the furnaces when a noise from behind startles you. Turn to 121.
You pluck the white-handled knife from the depths of the bag and wield it dramatically in front of you.
Nothing happens. You shake it authoritatively high in the air and think about saying something, but what can
you say? Eventually, you give up, sit down on the floor and examine the knife closely. It has green gunk
pressed into its blade and for a second, you wonder if that could be the key. Hoping beyond hope, you sniff it
and realise that it’s crushed basil. It’s just a kitchen knife and it definitely isn’t going to get you out of the pit.
Still, it might come in handy, if you tire of waiting to die of thirst here.
You quickly assess the situation and think that it would probably be best to start with the long leg bones.
You start looking through the pile, gently placing the pelvis to one side and just when you find the left femur,

there is gut-wrenching scream of anguish. You look up to see the woman in pure agony but unable to move.
You rush to her side.
​‘What’s wrong? What can I do?’
​‘Don’t touch them,’ she manages to cry out. ‘The bones were cursed the second they were removed. I was
cursed to stay like this for ever, or at least, until he is finally dead.’
​‘He? Who’s he?’ but you are interrupted by the realisation that every single bone is now crumbling into a
fine, white powder. The woman weeps, tears rolling down her face, then she closes her eyes and will not, or
cannot, speak any more. You wonder if the pain was too much—have you killed her? But you can see clearly,
without the sternum to conceal what lies beneath, a pumping heart in her chest and you know that she “lives”
on. There’s nothing more you can do here—frankly, you’ve done enough damage—so you leave the ward.
Turn to 30.
The dim light flickers constantly, making the shadows jump and shift. You keep seeing figures out of the
corner of your eye, but when you look for them, there’s nothing there. On the left, you pass the doors that lead
back to the ITU—no point going there, you think—but something else has got your attention. Turn to 93.
The room is dark, smells dank and the dripping noise is coming from a leaky tap in the corner. There is a
small window high in the far wall but bars and dirt prevent any sunlight from penetrating the shadows. A
sturdy, wooden chair faces you, with numerous leather straps attached to it, and you presume that whoever sat
in the chair, was doing so involuntarily. The reason for that becomes clearer as you look at the tall, wooden
barrier with a ladder behind it and two buckets. What was meant to be therapy was, in fact, torture. You can
picture the frightened, naked person struggling against the restraints as bucket after bucket of cold water was
thrown over them, and you shiver in sympathy.
Although it feels a bit gruesome, you are weary and decide to sit in the chair until you regain some
strength. You’re not sure if you’ve fallen asleep but suddenly, you sit bolt upright and are sure that you’ve just
heard a noise behind you; behind the wooden barrier. Do you stand on the chair and peer over the barrier
(turn to 193) or pretend to still be asleep (turn to 283)?
The foyer is carpeted with a huge Persian rug and there are ornately carved oaken double doors ahead but
you’re not sure where they lead to. Somewhere important, maybe? On the left-hand side of the foyer is a huge
mirror in a gilded Baroque frame and on the right, stands a full-size marble statue of a man in Puritan-style
clothing. Do you:
Go through the double doors​Turn to 41
Examine the mirror​​Turn to 386
Inspect the statue​​Turn to 244
You grasp the shiny black amulet and thrust it towards Jezebeth. For a moment, her face is like a mask,
devoid of emotion and you begin to hope that maybe, just maybe, this is the answer. But then she smiles and
you know that all is lost. That was your last throw of the dice and you failed. The creeping sensation continues
throughout your body—it’s almost like someone is putting on a new outfit, stretching themselves into each and
every nook and cranny. Finally, she takes you over and at least now, you stop thinking about all the agonising
things that Jezebeth can do to you. You simply stop thinking.
You say the name, but the lab technician simply rubs a hand over his blue-grey chin and shakes his head.

He stares fixedly downwards for a long time, then turns and starts going back up the stairs.
​‘Stop. Please!’ you cry but he ignores you. He doesn’t even look back at you, just says: ‘You know nothing.
No-one can help you here.’ It seems pointless to follow him, so instead, you decide to carry on down the
stairs. Turn to 222.
Holding the candle high in the air and panicking as the noise from above becomes more agitated, you
whisper the name Amphitrite. Nothing happens. You say it again, a little louder but not too loud, just in
case…. But nothing happens. You wait and then throw the candle back into the bag. Fat load of use that was!
You carry on walking, hoping that whatever is moving around up there, stays up there. Turn to 317.
You push open the door and are almost blinded. For a second, you think it’s just sunlight, but when your
eyes finally adjust, you can see that the walls are painted a vivid yellow. Is this just to be cheery or is there
another reason? You’re not alone in this room, although it’s not what you’d call ‘lively’. There is a young
nurse sat in one of the chairs and opposite her are three elderly men. You approach the nurse but before you
can ask her anything, she simply wags her finger at you. ‘You may speak with one but only one of these fine
gentlemen. Make your choice. There is Samael, Nathanael and Daniel.’
There’s not much to tempt you with any of them. Samael seems to be concertedly rolling a small piece of
excrement between his fingers; Nathanael is wearing urine-soaked pyjamas and Daniel has an impressively
long string of drool hanging from his mouth onto his chest. You consider your options.
Talk with Samael ​Turn to 84
Talk with Nathanael​Turn to 294
Talk with Daniel​ ​Turn to 385
Leave the day room​Turn to 201
A little further on, the corridor branches. Going straight on normally takes you to the medical wards but it
seems to be blocked off with some strange barrier. The right turn should take you to another stairwell and
more surgical wards. Which direction do you want to head in now?
Straight on​Turn to 202
Right​ ​Turn to 125
You walk down this corridor, past a short staircase on your right-hand side. It’s heading down towards the
lower level and you don’t like the look of it—far too dungeon-esque for your liking—so you carry on until you
reach a door. The small functional sign at the side states that you’ve arrived at the Sleep Disorders
Laboratory, but the flamboyant and flowery declaration above the door is ‘Welcome to Poppy Ward’. Poppy?
Really? You push open the door (turn to 223).
You walk along the narrow corridor, exiting the x-ray department and stepping back into daylight. There
are dark clouds gathering now though; maybe a storm is brewing. Ahead of you, the corridor takes a sharp turn
right. You could take it at a quick run and if there’s anyone there, you’d take them by surprise (turn to 214) or
you could take it slowly, in case someone’s laid a trap for you (turn to 300).
You stand on tiptoes and reach into the dusty hole. Your fingers immediately find a roll of paper, which

you grasp and pull out. Do you want to see if there’s anything else in the hole?
Yes​Turn to 259
No​Turn to 367
The silvery moon casts a cold light around the large room. Normally it was full of patients waking up after
their operations but now it’s cluttered with discarded and fallen equipment and everything has a heavy coating
of dust and mould. There’s nothing here, you decide, but just when you start for the exit in the right-hand wall,
the ceiling lights flash on and off. You wait, not breathing, half-hoping, half-dreading that something else
happens. Suddenly, it does. The wall light opposite switches on and then swings round, sweeping an arc of
light across the room. If you’ve seen this happen before, you should remember a name. A name of surgeon or
more accurately—a butcher. Turn the name into a number by using the code: A=1, B=2, C=3 ….. Z=26. Add
the numbers together and turn to the paragraph with the same number.
If you haven’t come across a name, the strange light means nothing to you other than it’s probably time to
get out of the department. You head for the exit. Turn to 8.
You look tentatively at the bottles—mescaline, dried mushrooms and absinthe—and are feeling tempted to
take a sip of the green liquid, when a thought occurs to you. Could Jezebeth’s secret room be close by? Just as
you consider the possibility, the shelves seem to lurch and slide before your eyes. Your attempt to grab onto
something to prevent the fall is futile and by the time you hit the floor, you are already deeply unconscious.
You will never know what happened then or how you ended
up back at the start, but maybe next time, you won’t make the same mistakes. Turn to 1.
You continue down the corridor, although it feels more like a tunnel with the pages plastered all around
and words everywhere you look. At the end, there is a door in front of you. You’re not sure what is beyond the
door, but you can hear the faint sound of dogs barking. Otherwise, the corridor turns left. If you want to go
through the door, turn to 228 but if you’d rather just follow the corridor around to the left, turn to 301.
Before long, you reach the exit door out of the ward but when you try to leave, the door won’t budge. You
push it two, three times and even thump it with your fist in frustration but facts are facts. The door is locked.
You have no choice but to go back to the junction and head right, leaving the ward that way. Turn to 50.
Standing between you and the door is a young girl. She is dripping wet with long strands of pond weed
cascading over her head and shoulders. She has the grey pallor of the dead, but her eyes are bright red with
ruptured blood vessels. You presume this is another victim of Carmichael.
​‘What did he take?’ you ask in a stammering voice. The girl closes her eyes and sighs, as if the memory is
still too painful.
​‘I am number 4 but before that, I was Agnes. He took my adrenal glands. They gave him the power to
create fire and to mock me, he keeps me here, in a fiery red room with the furnaces.’
​‘But why are you wet?’
​‘They drown witches, don’t they? Dunk them again and again until they confess or die. Have you ever been
held under water until your lungs are bursting?’ You shake your head. ‘Can you imagine how terrified I was?’
You nod. ‘The adrenalin was pumping round my veins, the glands ripe, like dripping peaches. The best time to
harvest them, he said. And of course, it meant that any fires I tried to start in defence were extinguished. I had
nothing else to fight with.’ With that, she turns slightly and raises up her soggy linen tunic, showing you the

gaping wounds at the bottom of each side of the rib cage. They look painful and you can’t help but think of her
having to feel that forever more. After all, the dead don’t heal.
​‘I’m going to try and stop this,’ you say. Agnes bows her head with a grateful smile.
​‘You must be careful though. Carmichael is much more than a man now. When he acquired the teeth,
something changed. He changed. I don’t know exactly, I hear talk of a demon, but I think that he has two names
​‘Is the other name Jezebeth?’
​‘That, I do not know but maybe I can help you in another way. If you ever need a flame to light your
journey, call on Hestia’ You give a quizzical tilt of your head, but Agnes merely looks tired and apologetic. ‘I
must go now; it takes up too much energy.’ And with that, the water dripping from her becomes a deluge and
she simply drains away. In twenty seconds, all that is left of her is a puddle on the red floor.
You head for the door, trying to memorise her advice, and leave the furnace room. Turn to 347.
You head down the passageway past more cell-like rooms until you reach a heavy steel door. You try the
handle, but it’s locked. Bored now and feeling oppressed by this gloom, you head back to the junction and this
time, take the left-hand corridor. Turn to 236.
You put the last key into its lock and hold your breath. Turn to 15.
The purest white smoke spirals up to the ceiling and both you and Jezebeth watch it in stunned silence.
And then you hear that mocking laughter again. The demon leers at you, licking a spindly tongue over one of
the fangs and you realise that you made the wrong decision. You start to feel a strange sensation through your
body, as Jezebeth begins to take control. The end can’t be too far away but before that happens, you quickly
think about all the items you’ve collected. Maybe one of these could be useful. Which amulet do you select?
The one made of Lapis lazuli​Turn to 371
The one made of obsidian​Turn to 109
This linking corridor has no doors or rooms—nothing can jump out at you here—but suddenly you hear a
noise from above. A deliberate, creaking sound. And there it was again. And again. You’re in no doubt that
there’s something above you. Something—or someone—walking above you but trying not to be heard. Except..
Except you’re already on the top floor, so what’s hiding in the roof space? You take a deep breath and try not
to think about that. If you start panicking, you’re doomed. You exhale slowly and look around yourself. Where
should you go now? The entrance to stairwell A is just on your left (turn to 323), so you could head
downstairs. Otherwise you can follow the corridor around to the right and investigate more wards (turn to
You step back into the corridor and weigh up your next move. You could take the corridor that goes
straight ahead from the bedroom door (turn to 247) or take the corridor going right (turn to 155).
You walk down the corridor. Far from Intensive Care being the safe option you hoped for, all you can see
is carnage. The sign: ‘INTENSIVE CARE UNIT – Please buzz for entrance’ is lying twisted on the floor. The
security doors that normally barred unauthorised entrance are swinging off their hinges – huge holes punched

through them – and beyond them, who knows? You tread carefully o