"Joint?" You exclaim. "A joint? Now? Are you crazy?! There's a madman on the loose!"

Samantha doesn't seem to be making much sense out of what you're saying. She mostly just sits there, naked, a blank look on her face.

"Now I really need a joint." She finally says.

You don't have time for this. You stand up, head to the door, and look out to where the blood trail leads. You can't just let that killer roam free, but how do you want to go at this?
You can't let him get away! Follow the trail! He's wounded anyway.
End Of Story

Variable Names & Values are required for a choice to show

Up to 350px x 350px, 50,000 byte file size limit
The owner of this story will be reviewing your submission before publication. Please confirm your spelling, punctuation, and adherence to any of the story owner's guidelines before submitting.