Heatsick

This game was written in four hours for [ECTOCOMP 2025](https://itch.io/jam/ectocomp-2025). It was made with [Twine](https://twinery.org/) using the [Chapbook](https://klembot.github.io/chapbook/) format. I wrote it in springtime, on a mild and pleasant day, but wrote it with the windows shut and the blinds pulled to induce an authentic summertime malaise. [[Thank you for playing!->Start]]

But inevitably the heatsickness returns, the nausea, the lassitude, your practice faltering. Unfinished artworks scattered around the room in mute appeal. Almost a week into another heatwave, the temperature refusing to drop, cumulonimbus accumulating at the horizon but drawing no closer, the household throws a party. An attempt to shake off the tension that has been steadily developing with every barren day and night. Eskys and punchbowls, the downstairs already a heaving mess of detritus, one group somewhere in the yard drunkenly singing along to *Harvest Moon.* And none of it any relief to you. You are drunk, sweating profusely, nauseous, even the dimness of this place at midnight light up only by fairylights is too much. [[You are a mess!->S5_Well]]

[if final === 'a'] A gives you a doped-out stare as you pass by. "You don't look so great." "Too hot in here. Just need some air," you mumble. No idea what you can throw down there this time, what even remains. Then an idea. "Hey wanna come for a walk? I found this really cool thing out behind the house." [["Come on!"->S5_Plummet]] [if final === 'n'] N raises their eyebrows when they see you. "You look like shit bro." "Too hot in here. Just need some air," you mumble. No idea what you can throw down there this time, what even remains. Then an idea. "Hey wanna come for a walk? I found this really cool thing out behind the house." [["Come on!"->S5_Plummet]] [if final === 'z'] Z looks at you, concerned, "You feeling alright?" "Too hot in here. Just need some air," you mumble. No idea what you can throw down there this time, what even remains. Then an idea. "Hey wanna come for a walk? I found this really cool thing out behind the house." [["Come on!"->S5_Plummet]]

The two of you weave out down the street and into the bush. Neither of you thought to bring along the flashlight so you find your way instead, stumbling and cursing, by your phone and the moonlight. "Um so when, exactly, did you find this place?" they ask. "Just out wandering." "Ha ha. We didn't think you ever left your room." [["Ha ha"->BadEnd]]

You deliberately overshoot the well when you finally make it into the clearing, trying your best not to look that way, just another sedgeclump, until you think you have them positioned at its edge. They don't look very impressed. "So. What was the cool thing you found?" "This." You round on them, and with as much nauseated, shaking strength as you can manage, throw yourself at them. And miss. You miss by a wide margin, not even grazing them as they step cautiously aside, and fall. You halt your own momentum just in time to teeter a second at the edge, then slip and plummet in anyway. It is, as you are well aware by now, very deep, if probably not bottomless. The thin moonlight above shrinks rapidly away. When it finally disappears for good, when you are finally in the dark, silent, cold, it comes as almost a relief. [[Finish->Credits]]

Things... have been going well. Your new artworks show promise, have yet to break down the way they usually do. You found a job, a shitty one at a printworks, but a job all the same. And all the while making the journey out into the bushland to feed the well. Things no longer needed, things left around that no-one will miss, books you will never read again. The weather has remained mild, a clear prospect in which you may pursue your successes. Or at least it was mild for a time. But slowly, the heatwave has been returning, the temperature rising, the smell of incense, the thump of the techno, the sense of stupor and listnessness once again creeping back in from the periphery, threatening to permeate, to ruin your temperate climate. [[Head out->S4_Well]]

Something more is needed. You head out well before dawn. The air is crisp and cool but it will not remain that way for long. You are lugging this time, not just a flashlight, but also: [[A's console->S4_ThrowConsole]], no, [[N's stereo system->S4_ThrowStereo]], no, [[Z's incense burner->S4_ThrowIncense]]

final: 'a' -- Not that A ever did much to offend you, you rarely saw them move from the couch, but lately you cannot help wondering if that is precisely the source of this miasma of failure, of hopelessness, seeping through the house. Just a stupid console anyway, how much can it cost? $50? You throw it in with much more force than you had intended. You hear the usual... nothing. [[Return home->S4_Home]]

final: 'n' -- This thing is a fucking beast to carry. It was truly effective at driving beats into the floor and the walls, throughout open pocket of air. No wonder you could never get any work done, those thumping, monotonous, thumping vibrations seeping through the house. You lean the stereo against the edge of the well and tip it in. It makes some good *bassy* sounds as it richochets off the bricks, then the usual... nothing. [[Return home->S4_Home]]

final: 'z' -- Frankincense, and myrhh, and amber, fine, but then there were all the others too, with opaque names like *full moon,* or *goddess,* or *vampire blood.* Even with the door shut the smell would seep in and almost coalesce in your dark, humid room, to choke and nauseate. You were never sure it did not leave a residue, something that lingered on you even when you left the house and travelled through clean air. You are carrying, not just the burner, but as many sticks as you could find. It disappears down the well in a heteroclite jumble. You hear the usual... nothing. Although some of the smell remains for a time in the predawn air. [[Return home->S4_Home]]

The eastern sky is only just lightening as you return, slipping quietly through the front door, everyone else still fast asleep. In an hour or two, whatever chaos comes from this, you will not be there to see it. You will be comfortably ensconsed back in bed. [[Blissfully asleep->S5_Intro]]

The well lies in an overgrown grove of wattles, at the centre of a ring of sedges, in the bushland near your home. It's not too surprising to find one out here. This whole district is riddled with remnants from before the city was founded: rotten fenceposts, rusty wire coils, eroded gullies and stranded patches of flowers from across the ocean. Dry wells. It is unusual to find one unmarked and unknown. The city tends to cap them or fence them off to stop people falling in, as you yourself almost fell in when you discovered this one, stumbling through the predawn light. [[Examine it->S1_Well]]

If it were not for the crumbling rings of brick that line its walls, descending further than even the sunlight at noon would reach, you might call it a *pit* instead. The well is narrow, though still wide enough for an unwary wanderer to fall into. It has no external structure, no shelf, no pulley system to bring up the water, nothing else in the vicinity except some rusty detritus. You are reminded of decorative wells which, when you were young, you threw loose change into to make a wish. You think you are past wishes now, but you could still: [[Throw something in->S1_Choice]], or no, [[just leave it->S1_GoodEnd]]

As mentioned, you have since aged out of throwing crap into wells and making wishes. You leave it behind and return home in the rapidly heating dawn light. [[Good for you!->Credits]]

You set the flashlight down a moment and forage around in the pockets of your jeans, turning up in one of them some loose change. Certainly not enough to purchase anything with. Well why not? How deep does this well go anyway? [[Throw it in->S1_Throw]]

You make as though to throw the coins, then change your mind, lean over the well and carefully drop them into its centre, listening to hear them ringing as they hit the bottom. Instead hearing... nothing. Deeper than you expected. Or just overgrown and muffling the sound. It is not even sunrise and already it is getting too hot to remain out. You have been sweating the whole time standing here. Can't spend the whole day dropping things down a well in the bush. [[Return home->S1_Home]]

You pass A already in their usual slumped position of the living room couch, controller in hand, cannot see from this angle if they are asleep or not. The thumping music rippling from N's room, which has been rippling out all night, mingles convivially with the weedsmoke and incensesmoke emanating from Z's room down the other end of the hall. The smoke detector has been without batteries for months now. Your own room conveniently in the middle of all this only partly shuts the vibrations, the odour, the heat, the light out. And you had all got along so well when you first moved in. [[Shut the door->S1_Outro]]

Things... ain't going great. Artworks faltering. Unemployed. No prospects. Stuck out here on the edge of the city in this mouldering sharehouse, in a neighbourhood of mouldering sharehouses, seeing the same addled faces at the same parties, going nowhere, doing nothing. And the heatsickness only worsening as summertime moves into its fullness. Even from dawn it is too hot to leave the house, too bright. So you spend your days in here with the windows shut and the blinds drawn, trying and failing, nauseated by the thumping techno and the smoke. Until after dark, usually in the small hours of the morning when you have given up on sleep, when you can at least go wandering, following the stormwater drain as far as it goes, or following by flashlight trails into the bushland that starts beyond the last row of houses. Until it gets light again, and the heatsickness returns, and you are forced back indoors. [[With nothing else to do->S2_Intro]]

To everyone's surprise the heat of that day finally broke in an overnight deluge. The stormwater drain overflowed and inundated lower-lying streets around the neighbourhood. The lightning took out power across most the city. (Moments after the lights went out, you heard, downstairs, incoherent cursing). The rain falling through a downstairs window, left open, took root in the carpet, and blossomed shortly after into a diverse ecosystem of slimes and moulds. [[Head out->S3_Well]]

The trail is littered with fallen branches and leaves left in the wake of the storm. At one point you have to climb over a great, toppled eucalyptus. The sky is overcast, the air a little bracing, the trail muddy. You do not really care how deep the well runs at this point. It just seems right you should throw something more in, as a kind of thank you. Leaving the house, you took: [[Your tarot cards|S3_ThrowCards]], no, [[a pile of failed artworks|S3_ThrowArtworks]]

You carelessly huck your tarot deck towards the well, the cards separating into a descending murmuration, then disappearing into the blackness. Where did any of that Right Hand Path stuff ever get you anyway? You might get better results feeding instead of fighting the irreversible flow of destruction, of entropy, of rot. At least you will never get a bad reading again. You hear the usual... nothing. [[Return home->S3_Home]]

Before you left you rolled up the great scattered pile of your failures into one unwieldy scroll, threatening to come apart at multiple edges, that would only hold together after it was bound with strong rubber bands. You carefully hold this accumulation out over the well, then let go. Hours and hours and hours hunched away at images you never showed anyone. Your endless termite projects. You hear the usual... nothing. [[Return home->S3_Home]]

Things feel a little lighter, a little clearer. You throw open your window to look out over the street, the sweetgum in the front yard, the mountains further beyond the bushland still partly shrouded in mist. The power is still out and may not get resolved until tomorrow at latest estimates. You do not really care. You let the overcast light spill in and set to work. [[Something new->S4_Intro]]

So of course you return to the well. This morning, not even sunrise yet, it is stinking hot. It will another day of perfect blue skies. Cumulonimbus clouds will accumulate on the horizon but draw no closer. Useless. This time you brought more than loose change. You intend to throw something hefty down the well and listen carefully. Leaving the house you took along: [[A metal pipe->S2_ThrowPipe]], no, [[a dislodged brick->S2_ThrowBrick]]

Not lengthy enough for you to have used as a walking pole on the way over, but you did swing it recklessly at overhanging branches as you followed the trail, pretending you were clearing the way through hitherto untouched forest. You lean over, carefully aim, and throw the metal pipe down the well, listening carefully for a clang, a thump, a rustle, anything, and hearing... nothing. At least whatever you throw down next time now has something to collide with. [[Return home->S2_Home]]

It felt thrillingly antisocial to walk down the street carrying one brick, as though you were going to smash in a neighbour's car, or window. You resolve to carry bricks around more often. You lean over, carefully aim, and throw the brick down the well, listening carefully for a cracking, a thump, a rustle, anything, and hearing... nothing. At least whatever you throw down next time has the remnants of something to collide with. [[Return home->S2_Home]]

A is already awake as you come in the front door, and asks if you were at the shops. "No," you say, and hold your palms open as if to ask if they see any groceries. "Oh. We've run out of milk." You only bought new milk yesterday, one of those big fuckoff three litre bottles of the stuff. You say nothing and head upstairs, past the resuming sounds of gaming from the living room, past the thumping techno, through the waves of smoke. No wonder the neighbour keeps ringing in complaints. [[Shut the door->S2_Outro]]

So of course you are back in here, confronted with all these unfinished artworks, with a phone absent any new messages, another day of lassitude and stagnancy, nothing to do, nowhere to go. Already wondering what will get thrown down the well next time. [[Plenty of time to think->S3_Intro]]

**Heatsick** [[Begin->S1_Intro]]