This is the third part of The Fantastic Textual Adventure series, I highly suggest reading the other two before reading this, good day :D
#Update: 12/02/2017
Heya newcomers and oldies alike! If they guy below me, well, the me below me, is speaking to you from the future, then I'm speaking to you from the SUPER future! This, ladies and gentlemen and people who don't identify as such is what I like to call a job well done. Many times I've rambled on about rewriting older chapters and such, but I procrastinated like a pro and never got around to finish any worketh. But guess what? I finally put on the big-boy pantaloons and did it, ya critters! This is the only chapter I gave the full "retroactive upgrade" treatment, but rest assure, more are to come. So yeah, please read this and DON'T BE ALARMED when you get to the next chapter and you see a heavy downgrade to the overall quality.
Like, a jumbo-sized downgrade, holy Mc'Shooty if the older chapters rank low for my current standards.
For the newcomers, it gets better, I promise.
ENJOY!
#Update: 10/08/2015
Hello people, I'm talking to you from the fuuuuutureeeeeeeeee! Well not really, but it has been a long time since I started this. Anyway, I went back and re-edited the older chapters to fit into my new writing style and a fixed their ATROCIOUS spelling and tense mistakes. I'll be posting them throughout the day because I don't have Internet all the time...Also, I will post the chapter that I HAD to post on Friday, but my agenda was tight and I couldn't fit "Post chapter" in it. I hope you forgive me.
Hey! Guess who's back! Sorry for my lack of updates, I'm terrible human being (At least with that dweeb shit). Anyways...ENJOY!
PD: I will divide this chapter of the Fantastic Textual Adventure intro several smaller ones, for the lulz.
*A door opens in the distance * *Heavy steps over a wooden floor are caught by a microphone* *They end up before the device, followed by the puff of cushions as someone sits on a chair roughly, letting out a long sigh* *Loud sounds follow as the microphone is moved closer to such person, and as a finger taps gently on its surface to test its response* *Seemingly ready, the user clears its throat before it's lips part, and he speaks with a deep and manly voice*…Hello, everyone, this is your Narrator once again. Today I have a new tale for you, but before we even begin, I need to address something to you, my dear listeners, as it is of utmost importance. I am speaking about the ending of my latest story, "The Stanley Parable: The Fantastic Textual Adventure Reloaded". As you may remember, it strayed vastly from typical unfoldings, relying instead on the concept of reality and fiction merging together as one…Many of you called it "Peculiar", as one of its lighter depictions. For those of you joining just now, I'll take a short time to enlighten you on the matter. As our story ended, one of the characters, Narrator One, emerged into the world of 'The Office', a separate sort of dimension where Stanley resided. Such a drastic action was taken when it became clear that his grasp on the situation was faltering, since he had to resort on murdering Stanley as a restart method. And our story ended there, but a hint of something else still lingered some lines below. It was a glimpse of a future work, something of higher caliber…Something meant to be made true. Yes, my listeners, I know the most cunning of you must have figured my words out already, but let me spell it: Such work is the tale at hand today, a tale that goes by the name of "The Stanley Parable: The Fantastic Textual Adventure Revolutions"
Oh, readers, as I speak these lines I can feel the warm light of the morning sun creeping through my window, painting my office a cozy yellow. It is on such a GEORGEOUS morning that our story will continue…Assistant, move the microphone closer please…*Fast hands reposition the device*…That's better...No, I still hear myself poorly, a little closer please…*It is moved closer* *The voice of the Narrator starts to saturate*…Let's see…Curse it! This won't do, closer please…*The voice of the Narrator shows a hint of annoyance* *The assistant grazes the microphone and moves it only slightly closer* *The Narrator snaps at him, voice completely saturated* COME ON, CLOSER GOD DAMMIT! *Startled hands overextend the device too much and it collides against a hard surface, which was none-other than the Narrator* *He winced in pain as he shouted back at his assistant* For the mother of…NOT SO CLOSE, DIMWIT!*The microphone swiftly retracts until the Narrator issues a stop* THERE! Please, just leave it there… *It ends up exactly where it started*…Okay, good lord, let's get this over with…*The Narrator sighs* Remind me to fire you after this, Kayle…Yeah, game-face, let's begin…
The Stanley Parable: The Fantastic Textual Adventure.
REVOLUTIONS
|There was an explosion in the office. A hole erupted from within a wall; with so much force that debris flew out into the room, searing the plains surfaces of the walls and ceiling. It was in that room where our main protagonist had stood. Had being the key-word, as our hero was standing far too close to the exploding wall as it happened. He was knocked back into the opposite end, where his back connected with the hard concrete and his lungs were left out of air. Moments after he came undone on the ground. Stanley inhaled sharply, and coughed up a mouthful of dust as he thought to himself, he was not a lucky man. He tried to move his arms to steady himself, but he found them unresponsive to his commands, far heavier than what he remembered them. He groaned as he waited for his strength to return to him. It would not be until a shadow appeared over him that his fingers finally started to twitch again. His eyes made out the silhouette of a man looming over him, his face indistinguishable as the ceiling lamp cast a dark shadow over its features. But his voice was an instant giveaway, as he spoke words that made his eyes open widely, threatening to pop out of their sockets|
?:Hello Stanley…Did you miss me?
|As if on cue, his vision cleared out enough to appreciate his traits. He gasped out in shock. His Narrator, the one he loved and hated stood before him, towering over his limp body. Stanley looked at him with an awe-struck expression. And yet, he was not concerned. The situation was supposed to be serious, but the dark shades he was wearing, the confident smolders he was making, and the fact that a dramatic sting sound played inside the laying man's head, could only describe the situation as downright hilarious. His expression began to crumble as he tried not to smile, failing stupendously at that and banishing away and trace of the built-up confidence from the other man. Narrator One, shades-off, quirked an eye-brow at his smile. That was not the reaction he expected. Unable to think of anything better to do or say, he grabbed Stanley by his sides and helped him up, letting him rest against the wall|
S:…
|Stanley gave him a look of appreciation that weighted more than any word he could say. Narrator one felt how an invisible grip closed over his heart. It was not going as planned. Not at all indeed. He turned his face away from him to hide his look of disappointment. Mixed signals were never a good thing. Stanley tilted his head, confused as well. But deep down within his core, the feeling of concern weighted him down like a heavy rock. If the man before him was anything close to his Narrator, he was but a pale shadow of his former self. His charismatic and ever focused attitude always gave him the image of a proud man, who seldom lowered his chin, and faced the world with an ever-daring look, not an awkward mess of hunched shoulders, fidgeting hands and downcast gazes. Stanley crooked his lips to the side as he thought about what to do, deciding to approach the situation with a smile, as he trembled away from the wall and placed his hand on the other man's shoulder for support. Dark green eyes met his brown ones, casting him a look of shame he deflected with a timely smile. It was strange, for Narrator One to look at his partner face to face, after many years of working together in isolation from the other. Stanley was so vibrant, something he never noticed across his monitors. His smile spoke confidence into him: he could have been the shadiest villain in the world, but he had no doubt he'd trust him with his life at the slightest crook of his lips|
S:…
|He gave him a look that urged him to pick himself up, spreading enough warmness through his chest to actually do so. It was rather surreal, how easy he could decipher what he said with a look or a gesture. But he spared that thought aside as he focused on heeding Stanley's words. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, holding the air for the slightest second before letting it out slowly, as if he was cleansing his lungs, his body from any trace of darkness. He smiled. His back straightened and he corrected his posture, finally akin to the image the other man had of him. He spoke|
N1:I…Thank you lad, I guess I was not as ready to meet you as I thought I was…
|Stanley flashed him a smile that could warm the hearts of the dead. He continued|
N1:You see…This may have been my craziest idea yet…Okay, maybe the most 'out-of-character' one, instead, but I have my reasons to be here!
S:…
N1:Yes, I was the one who made the hole in the wall…Um…I beg your pardon for the pains…
|Stanley waved his hand as if to say "No prob, dawn, we cool". Narrator One still couldn't believe his luck with the man. He was being friendly, to him, his Narrator, the man who forced him day after day to work against his will, taunting him and spewing sneers at the man as he progressed. And he, he should be strangling him. He'd never met a person so stubborn in his entire career as a Narrator. In his whole life. And yet, neither of them complied to his image. Stanley was not lunging at his face, and he was not aiming for his neck. They were smiling, almost laughing, sharing words casually as if they were lifetime friends. Something stirred under his heart, just above his belly, a sensation he hadn't felt for a long time now. It was uncomfortable, intense and commanding. He felt guilty. Guilty for treating him as he did, guilty for always putting his needs first. Every fiber in his brain wanted him to apologize to him, and may lighting strike him if he wouldn't, but then was not the time. He shook his head slightly to clear away his thoughts, and forced himself to act professionally. After all, he was seeing him for a reason|
N1:Oh bless you my man, you are being the best sport about this. *He cleared his throat* Okay, now, you see…As I've said before, I'm here for a reason…
S:…
N1:Yes, I know you are confused so let me just jump straight to the point…I…Oh curse it. I'm here because this…You, are my story, Stanley. All of this is my story, a story I wrote and narrated, a story that was almost taken away from me…Stanley; I'm here to take control of my story. Personally.
|Now he had no doubt the other man would lunge at his face. But for a second time now, he was proven wrong. Stanley simply looked at him as if his goal was the most obvious thing in the world, and he could only stare in disbelief at the man. "Stanley you're too good for me, I'll make sure to pull some strings when all of this is done. You deserve better than this…" He thought as he extended his hand to him, a look of happiness on his face|
N1:So, what do you say Stanley? We've had our many clashes in the past, left door, right door, blue, red…But I want to make you an offer now. And yes, I am desperate, I apologize. Let's leave it all behind Stanley, no more constant quarrels, neither endless sessions of 'broom-closeting'. I'm asking you to let me guide you one last time, towards the very ending. The very last ending Stanley, as I have some legal issues to cover later with 'The-Powers-That-Be'. I don't want to get ahead of myself, but I need this now, my man. I swear on my words that I'll move the earth and the heavens to get you out of here, as everything's been rather messy recently…So, Stanley, care to thrown one for the good old times?
|And it only took a second for the other man to shake his hand. Happiness overtook him as he pulled over and embraced Stanley in a hug. Everything was good, but the best part was that he reciprocated. They separated after some much-needed seconds, peering at each other with smiles|
N1:Well now my man…Let's go win my story, shall we?
|Stanley barely had time to nod before something unexpected happened. Not a step was taken towards their mark when their vison was filled with white, a light so pure and sudden that it took them a second to feel the blinding pain searing their eyes. But then, as quickly and suddenly as before, everything turned black. Their sight took minutes to adjust again, and when they finally got to stare at their surroundings once again, something was amiss. Or rather, someone. A newcomer stood before them: A man clad in a bespoke suit, of dark smile and even darker eyes. In fact, his whole face screamed "SHADY" for everyone who looked at him. Stanley swallowed and Narrator One opened his eyes widely. This was not a good omen|
?:My, my. Look who I've stumbled upon! My most-dreaded person in the world...And Stanley. Tell me oldie, how's life treating you?
|His wicked grin lit up when the man didn't answer, too stunned or too…angry, to utter words, perhaps? It was clear the new look he had on his face spelled many bad and angry things towards the man. And Stanley, well, Stanley was simply clueless, but he still gave his partner a nudge to his shoulder, that spoke "Dude looks threatening, better say something". Narrator One growled before opening his mouth. His tone was low and clashing, backed by so much anger and resentment that Stanley felt the hair on his neck straighten|
N1:Oh, you know, the same old thing 'Three', doing my thing, my work…Controlling my story…
|It was then when Stanley made the connection. On a single occasion he had felt his as angry as he was now. The man before them was Narrator Three. He chuckled by the low as he thought about how his voice had changed from when he spoke through a microphone. It must have been a really cheap microphone, pity him|
N3:Oh, how lovely to hear good things from you-
|But he could not continue as the deep voice of Narrator One rumbled over his|
N1:You buffoon, what is this?! I sent a written complaint to our field-manager to pull you out of my story while this instance was loading. Would you care to tell me what are you doing here?
|Narrator Three laughed. It was not a laugh of joy, or a strangled awkward giggle, it was an evil laugh, the one a main villain would break into when everything went according to plan. But no amount of cheesy villains could have prepared them for a real dose of evil laughter. It was deep, and riled up with so much unadulterated evil that they could swear the lights dimmed as it reverberated across the walls. How could a simple sound overwhelm them with such a powerful sense of despair was beyond them, but it sure made them feel helpless, almost compliant to drop to the ground and bow before the other man. But one of them had seen the other being crushed and jumping off a ledge to meet his end enough times to lose all form of sensitivity, and the other was willing to see through the latter action time after time. It was safe to say they were a resilient duo. It took Narrator Three a full minute to run out of air, finally allowing the two before him to visibly relax. Things were looking rough|
N3:Oh, boyo, haven't you heard the news? The Big Man hit the gutter. He's done for, gone, finito. He's dead, a tragic accident really, caught up in an explosion, a piece of concrete cracked his skull and snapped his spine. So sad…Oh, but do you know what the good part is? No, no, the best part? *He let out a short laugh, evil, of course* Listen carefully, I want remember the look on your face…He's dead because of you, oldie! How neat it that?
|His words hit the older man like a ton of bricks. The expression on his face must have been the expected as well, as Narrator Three grinned viciously, basking at his peril. Many emotions and thoughts clashed in his brain then, but one stood out from the rest: Confusion. How? How could he? When? Nothing made sense as he built a mental time-line of every action taken by him that he remembered. He was so lost on his thoughts that he barely noticed when he was in motion all of sudden. He focused he dreamy eyes, and found his partner, his very much concerned and worried partner, rattling his body to snap him back to reality. But he saw something else beneath the worry. He was not taken aghast by the words, not even moved. His eyes spoke fear, of how their grasp on the situation was slipping. There was a fire dancing within him, extending an orange tendril towards him. Narrator One didn't hesitate as he touched it, metaphorically speaking. His body felt warm again, as he was bestowed with courage not from himself, but lent by Stanley. He was the strongest of the two, as he already demonstrated several times. Narrator One stood firmly then, feeling invincible as the other man had is back. He spoke|
N1:Don't speak foolish lies you madman, it is not possible for me to have any tie to his untimely death, if such a thing really took place. Now, I think we are done here, I strongly urge you to get out of my game before I take further actions. I have you know the higher-ups practically eat from my palm.
|Narrator Three quirked an eyebrow at him. He wasn't expecting such an answer. But his confusion lasted for a brief instant, as his dark, evil expression returned to his face, and he answered|
N3:Oh, I'm so sorry, I didn't want to be a bother really. To tell you the truth I came all the way to here to deliver the news to you two…But there's a second part to them. The company has already elected a new director, a rather unanimous voting to be honest. So you wanted to elevate your complaint to your higher up, yes? Well then oldie…I'm listening.
|And of all the outcomes both men could have predicted, the crude reality faced them with the worst one possible. No amount of courage could prevent the cold tingle that spread across their spines. And yet, with his voice lowered to almost a whisper, Narrator One managed to let one last daring response|
N1:This…This is my story, you have no reasons to do anything to it, to me. Please…Boss, leave us be…
|It came out more as a plea than a dare, as his workspace manners inadvertently kicked in, as he was now talking with his superior. But one look at the other man's face was enough to know they wouldn't squeeze out of the situation with ease|
N3:Oldie, oldie, oldie…I would be a shame to tell you everything now, and believe me, there's much more to be said. I'd ruin the surprise! But let me tell you something insect, I have all the reasons to torment you as I will...That said, there's been some rescheduling within your field, floor, whatever. I have new plans for both of you…
|Narrator One and Stanley shared a look of concern, as one of them had to say it, one had to ask the question. And sadly for the first one, one of them was mute|
N1:Wha…What plans, boss?
|Narrator Three almost moaned. A grown man. He barely missed the correct pitch. 'Boss', he liked the sound of that. His impossibly wicked grin twisted and dangled into the field of madness. Nothing good could come out of there|
N3:Oh, nothing much, really. You see, I'm trying to implement these leveling tests for my employees, and what better pilot subject than the guy who should wear the "I'm the biggest bastard in the Earth" T-shit? You'll be partnered up with another employee for it, who in your case in none other than the Mute Douchebag himself! *Stanley groaned at his newly-acquired title* Okay, here's the rundown, I'll be putting both of you through a new story to test your initiative, cooperation, yadda, yadda, yadda, pain resistance and such. It'll be easy I promise.
|Stanley and Narrator One peered at him and then at each other. It wasn't going to be easy|
N3:That's the spirit guys, I can almost taste your enthusiasm, keep it up! Word of advice old-bones, I took some inspiration from your previous works. Dude, like, holy shit, you've written some tight tales. Tell you what, if you survive this, ten-to-one you don't, I'll make you my second in command! Okay, are you ready people? I don't care really, cause HERE WE GO! BUCKLE UP FOR A JUMPY RIDE!
|They were most definitely not ready for the newly-formed blinding portal that sucked them in and threw then against another hard surface, which ended up being the floor of a room both men most certainly knew. They couldn't express more concern when they found themselves inside Stanley's office, room 427, adapter for two co-workers now. Without any delay, Narrator Three began to speak|
Note from the future: These footer lines are rather meaningless now, but I've decided to leave them in just for the nostalgia :D
That was short no? I have some chapters of this story written since 2013, but i wasn't really convinced with their quality, so I kept editing and editing AND MOTHERloving EDITING all this time. This short chapter is the only one that I think is good enough for you to read it. Expect more from me, hopefully.
PD: The reviews, the favorites, the follows and the PM's work you know? It keeps me happy to continue giving you content.
SEE YA!