Hairs

<img src="assets/hairs-logo.png" width="100%"> (align:"=><=")[a game by Aaron Fox-Lerner] (align:"=><=")+(color:"#F3DFCE")+(css: "font-size: 200%;")[[[start->A0]]]

“You medieval monk-ass looking motherfucker.” 11 o’clock at night on the C train to Bed Stuy. You thought your date had been going well. [[Until now.->A1]]

“You need to shut the fuck up.” The two of you were sitting there minding your own business – she lives in the neighborhood, you live in the neighborhood, hey maybe you don’t need to go all the way home, I’m only two more stops away, haha. [[And then this crazy looking dude comes in and sits down across from you.->A2]]

First, he eyeballed your date super hard. Still looking at her, he started making some kissy noises with his mouth. She looked over at you. She kept looking over at you. It would be nice to just ignore this nutjob and switch cars at the next stop, wouldn’t it? [[It would.->A3.1]] [[No, I had to say something.->A3.2]]

Sure it would. You tried to ignore him, but he kept looking at you, and you looked back, and then he asked: “Yeah, what?” So what else could you do? You had to tell him off. [[Politely.->A4.1]] [[Bluntly.->A4.2]]

Very chivalrous of you. Or to put it in terms better suited to modern-day Brooklyn: what a good ally you are! So you looked right up at him and told him off. [[Politely.->A4.1]] [[Bluntly.->A4.2]]

It was good of you to be polite about it. Not that this dude cared. Oh no. That was when he jumped up out of his seat and insulted you. With that monk line. Because, you know, you were bald. You suffered from male pattern baldness. A bit off the top, that was all. You were only 33. Still young. Just unlucky in the genetic lottery. But of course, that was the first thing this weirdo, harassing women on the train at 11 at night, zeroed in on. [[Whatever.->A5.1]] [[It pissed you off.->A5.2]]

Really, you could have been a lot ruder than asking what his fucking problem was. Still, perhaps you shouldn’t have been surprised when he jumped up out of his seat and insulted you. With that monk line. Because, you know, you were bald. You suffered from male pattern baldness. A bit off the top, that was all. You were only 33. Still young. Just unlucky in the genetic lottery. But of course, that was the first thing this weirdo, harassing women on the train at 11 at night, zeroed in on. [[Whatever.->A5.1]] [[It pissed you off.->A5.2]]

You’d heard that shit a thousand times before. It didn’t bother you. It was just so obvious, that was all. Stupid. Really stupid. And he wouldn't let up. “Just shut the fuck up and mind your own business.” He said it with a smirk, looking down at you and swaying with each clack of the train through the tunnels. From here, it all boiled down to the two most elemental human reactions. [[Fight.->A6.1]] [[Flight.->A6.2]]

Really. Just tired, stupid shit. You start losing hair and soon it becomes your single defining feature. So sure, he got under your skin. And wouldn't let up. “Just shut the fuck up and mind your own business.” He said it with a smirk, looking down at you and swaying with each clack of the train through the tunnels. From here, it all boiled down to the two most elemental human reactions. [[Fight.->A6.1]] [[Flight.->A6.2]]

Now this was why you did all that BJJ. You'd never used it before, but it wasn't just for exercise, right? You stood up, got into position, and finally put that training to use. Your adrenaline shot up. Your breath became short and ragged. Your heart felt like it was trying to batter its way out of your chest. [[I took him down.->A6.1.2]]

Look, you did the reasonable thing. Broke eye contact, didn’t say anything. You thought you could have taken him – all that BJJ must have some practical use beyond exercise. But really, you were smart enough not to get in a physical fight with a crazy guy on the subway. The guy smirked and sat back down and kept making those weird kissy sounds until the train pulled into the next station and you both got off. She wouldn't look at you after that. [[I tried to laugh it off.->A7.1]] [[I gave a sincere apology.->A7.2]]

You made a joke about the pleasant people you meet on the train. She didn’t laugh. Needless to say, you didn’t hook up with her. (if:(history: where its name contains "A6.1")'s length >= 1)[Maybe if she hadn’t seen you wrestling a crazy dude on the likely piss-stained floors of the C train, things would have been different.](if:(history: where its name contains "A6.2")'s length >= 1)[Maybe if you’d actually stood up to that guy, things would have been different.] But it was too late for that now. She deleted your contact. [[Whatever.->A8.1]] [[Screw her.->A8.2]]

It’s fine, your date insisted. Her expression wavered somewhere between pity and disgust. Needless to say, you didn’t hook up with her. (if:(history: where its name contains "A6.1")'s length >= 1)[Maybe if she hadn’t seen you wrestling a crazy dude on the likely piss-stained floors of the C train, things would have been different.](if:(history: where its name contains "A6.2")'s length >= 1)[Maybe if you’d actually stood up to that guy things would have been different.] But it was too late for that now. She deleted your contact. [[Whatever.->A8.1]] [[Screw her.->A8.2]]

Plenty of fish in the sea. She wasn’t even that hot. Not as hot as she thought she was, anyway. But. [[Your hair.->B1]]

She sucked anyway. Not nearly as hot or interesting as she thought she was. Typical New York dating bullshit. All these girls so full of themselves. Fuck them all, you thought. But. [[Your hair.->B1]]

You’d thought about your hair plenty. How could you not? You’d tried all the products. (link:"Hims.") [Yearslong prescription, for nothing.] (link:"Keeps.") [Didn’t keep the hair in your head, that’s for sure.] (link:"Low-level laser therapy.") [A year of wearing a ridiculously expensive helmet, and your hair only got thinner.] (link:"Hair-thickening shampoo.") [Not much to keep thick anymore.] (more:)[[[Everything.->B2]]]

Nothing could solve it. Still, after all that shit on the train, yet another failed date, yet another frustrated night, you needed to ask yourself: did you really try everything? [[No, not really.->B3.1]] [[Sure.->B3.2]] [[Like a hair transplant?->B3.3]]

You’d done the standard. The expected. So what else could you expect? The same shit every other idiot got. You’re a smart person, you thought. You’re not every other idiot. You graduated from a good school, got good grades. You’ve got a good, high-earning job. You should be able to figure this out, too. [[Although work hadn’t been going too great lately.->B4]]

No, you hadn’t. You’d only tried the obvious. The standard. So what else could you expect? The same shit every other idiot got. You’re a smart person, you thought. You’re not every other idiot. You graduated from a good school, got good grades. You’ve got a good, high-earning job. You should be able to figure this out, too. [[Although work hadn’t been going too great lately.->B4]]

No, it really hadn’t. It felt like you were losing your touch. Only temporarily, of course. You hoped. But it hadn’t been a great year. [[There was no need to dwell on it.->B5.1]] [[It definitely wasn't going well.->B5.2]]

Of course, why should you? Really, everyone at the agency being all enamored with Mackenzie as the magical Gen Z TikTok whisperer had just freed up more time for you. Why waste time ghostwriting brand tweets and corporate identity stuff when you could be doing something better with your time, right? You just… you just needed something to get you back into gear. [[Like my hair.->B8]]

It could be worse. You hadn’t been fired or anything. [[Not yet, anyway.->B6.1]] [[That’s true. There was still time to turn things around.->B6.2]]

Nothing. You went to bed. To wait. These things take time. [[One day.->C4]]

Hey, there was no need to be so pessimistic. Sure, everyone at the agency was all enamored with Mackenzie because she was the TikTok Gen Z whisperer, but you were the one with actual experience. [[Not that I had anything against Mackenzie.->B6.3]]

Now that was the spirit! You’d just let yourself get into a funk. Sure, everyone at the agency was all enamored with Mackenzie because she was the TikTok Gen Z whisperer, but you were the one with actual experience. [[Not that I had anything against Mackenzie.->B6.3]]

So what? Then you’d find something better to do with your time than ghostwriting brand tweets and giving corporations new identities, right? You just needed something to get you back into gear. [[Like my hair.->B8]]

Maybe they’d come around eventually. In the meantime, you could do something better with your time than ghostwriting brand tweets and giving corporations new identities. You just needed something to get you back into gear. [[Like my hair.->B8]]

Exactly. If you could just regain your hair, things might finally turn around. You’d be regaining your vitality, your virility, your energy. Everything. [[But how?->B9]]

You were resourceful. How did you get good grades, get into a good university, get a good job afterward? [[Just putting in the time and doing the research.->B10]]

And that’s how you decided you’d solve this problem. You tried the obvious. It didn’t work. Everyone did the obvious. And they still lost their hair, didn’t they? So you decided to dig deeper. [[Way deeper.->B12]]

HAIRS by [<a href="https://www.aaronfoxlerner.com/" target="_blank">(color:#794426)[Aaron Fox-Lerner]</a>] Visuals by Sasha Fominskaya (css: "font-size: 75%;")[This game has nine possible endings. None of them are good.]

Online at work, when you were normally killing time, watching the minutes drain away from the hours drain away from the day in a slow drip, now you were poring through whatever you could find. It was fine. Work from home. Nobody to peer over your shoulder. Nobody did it at the office anyway. [[I looked everywhere I could.->B13]]

(link:"Reddit.") [Posts touting bullshit homeopathic remedies, long threads with in-jokes and jargon all their own, beat-by-beat recountings of trips to Turkey for plugs, anecdotal stories, deleted posts.] (link:"Discord.") [Dedicated body-hacking servers, transhumanist servers, simmering PUA-adjacent misogynist servers spun off from shitcoin servers, trolls, flame wars, vague ideas of future progress, in-depth updates on failed attempts.] (link:"Archived blog posts.") [From the rigorous to the pseudoscientific to the conspiratorial, detailed charts and long-term fixations, rationalist autistic number crunchers and racist comment section kulturkampf.] (link:"Bodybuilder forums.") [Bravado and boasting and bullshit, constant call-outs, you’re-not-so-tough threats, tired “do u even lift bro” jokes, petty insecurities and deep fears throbbing under the bluster.] [[All of them.->B14]]

Horror stories, urban legends, cautionary tales, lies, men sprouting tits and women mustaches, body hair burning up, skin breaking out, testosterone overdoses, bootleg transplants, oozing rashes, alopecia, vomiting, nausea, graft rejection, infected PRP injections, exosome allergies, impotence, incompetence, incontinence, shrunken balls, brittle nails, failed pregnancies, Turkish frauds, dead relatives. [[But also.->B15]]

The same name appearing again and again. Some kind of solution. [[Hydroxosporodine.->B16]]

“Surprisingly effective.” [[Hydroxosporodine.->B17]]

“No bullshit, bro.” [[Hydroxosporodine.->B18]]

“Initially dubious, but I can’t deny the results.” [[Hydroxosporodine.->B19]]

A cocktail of chemical solutions whose names were familiar from those deep research rabbit holes, ingested orally, employed in some confidential experimental trials by one of the big pharmaceuticals, no results found, mentioned at the bottom of long comment threads and Reddit replies to replies to replies like some kind of secret, sacred spell. [[Rare.->B20]]

Untested. But not unused. Bodyhackers and number crunchers whose work seemed rigorous, reporting amazing results before falling silent. Of course they’d fall silent. What else did they need to post if it worked? And maybe it would work for you. [[I kept digging.->B22]]

A Telegram channel for addy and percs which led you to a Telegram channel for more niche off-label medication which led you to a Tor-only illicit marketplace where you finally found a guy, boasting a long list of drugs. And towards the bottom, there it was. [[At last. Hydroxosporodine.->B23]]

If it was real. If he was for real. 1,600 dollars. But if it was real, if it worked… [[I had to try.->B24.1]] [[I decided to sleep on it.->B24.2]]

You rented a PO box, messaged the dealer, sent him the address, transferred over 1,600 bucks worth of Bitcoin, and waited. Eight days later, you checked the PO box and saw it had arrived. A single pill inside a plain envelope. [[I took the pill.->C1]]

And you woke up wondering if it could really work, if you’d just get ripped off, if you weren’t passing up an opportunity to finally set yourself right, if this whole thing was crazy, if it wasn’t just a placebo. If only to put a stop to this, you decided to take a chance and order it. You rented a PO box, messaged the dealer, sent him the address, transferred over 1,600 bucks worth of Bitcoin, and waited. Eight days later, you checked the PO box and saw it had arrived. A single pill inside a plain envelope. [[I took the pill.->C1]]

A glass of water, a quick swallow. [[And then?->C2]]

Nothing. [[Two days.->C5]]

Nothing. [[Three days.->C6]]

Nothing. [[I was getting impatient.->C7.1]] [[It was fine, I could wait.->C7.2]]

You just needed to remind yourself, this couldn’t fix itself overnight. Every day you’d pat the top of your head, finding it disappointingly smooth, and have to tell yourself again, these things take time. Not that it stopped you from eagerly, irritatedly checking your head again when you woke up the next day. [[One week.->C8]]

Right. These things took time. When you woke up each morning and checked the top of your head, finding it disappointingly smooth, that was fine. Silly, even. You knew you didn’t need to be patting your head like that. Force of habit, really. No big deal. Not that it stopped you from doing it again the same day, every day. [[One week.->C8]]

You thought there was something. A sprout. An extra hair you could have sworn wasn’t there before, at the edge of your bald patch. A short, spindly one, but a hair nonetheless. [[Ten days.->C9]]

It felt rough. The top of your head. Like little bristles were finding their way up out through your skin. Nothing was certain yet. It could have been anything. Dry skin. A rash on the top of your pate. Or, maybe, the coarse beginnings of a head of hair. [[It could be…->C10.1]] [[There was no way.->C10.2]]

No! You needed to keep your hopes realistic, remember? It could be all in your head, a psychosomatic imagining. [[15 days.->C11]]

That’s right, you needed to keep your hopes realistic. It was probably all in your head, some psychosomatic symptom of your overactive imagination. [[15 days.->C11]]

You could see them. The little dark lines, minuscule, almost invisible still, poking out in uneven, trepidatious patches. Barely breaking through from your skin, standing stiff and brittle, still so short. But there was no question. They were real. [[I let out a whoop, ran around the room.->C12.1]] [[I smiled quietly to myself in satisfaction.->C12.2]]

It worked! It actually worked! You jumped up and down, hooted and hollered until your downstairs neighbor began banging on the floor with a broom. Elated, you collapsed on your couch, poured yourself a glass of bourbon. The good stuff. You were a fucking genius. You did it. It fucking worked. [[I opened up my laptop.->C13.1]] [[I pulled out my phone.->C13.1]] [[I stepped outside, head held high.->C13.2]]

You scrolled through some of the most useful Discord servers for this stuff. You could have posted and bragged, but… why give up your secrets to strangers? What had they done to deserve this knowledge? So you just sat there and kept scrolling for a while, killing time. [[I figured I should tell someone.->C14]]

Look at me! You wanted to shout. I made my fucking hair grow back! Now I don’t need to go to Turkey or get a toupee or anything! It looked weird as hell right now, but that was fine. When it was grown enough, you’d buzz down the sides to even it out, then get a proper haircut. You made a lap around the block. No one out there looked at you twice. Whatever. You went back home. [[I figured I should tell someone.->C14]]

(unless: (visited: "C14.3"))[[[Liz and Alden.->C14.3]]] (unless: (visited: "C14.1"))[[[My parents?->C14.1]]] (unless: (visited: "C14.4"))[[[Gareth and Tyler.->C14.4]]] (unless: (visited: "C14.2"))[[[Jared.->C14.2]]] (unless: (visited: "C14.5"))[[[Rajesh.->C14.5]]] (unless: (visited: "C14.6"))[[[Some of the guys from the gym?->C14.6]]] (if:visits >= 4)[[[I just had to wait for it to grow in more, then they'd all see.->C15]]]

Just the idea of having that conversation was excruciating. Maybe you'd put it off until you had to go back and see them for Christmas. [[I could come up with a good lie by then.->C14.1.1]]

Sure, like you started eating healthier or something. Maybe you could wear a hat the whole time you were there? No, that was dumb. [[Whatever, plenty of time before then.->C14]]

You messaged in the group. You waited a while. Finally a response from Alden. They were busy. Maybe hang sometime next month? They were always busy now. Maybe Liz was really starting to influence Alden. She never liked you much, you thought. [[Well, fuck it.->C14]]

You paused, about to hit send to the group chat. No, they’d just make fun of you. They always fucking made fun of you. [[Fuck that.->C14]]

Never replied. You realized it had been over a year since you’d seen him. Actually, it had been over a year since you even messaged him. [[Oh well.->C14]]

He’d finally slowed down after years of sending you a barrage of cringe memes and whatever weird theories he’d half-seen a video about on YouTube that day. You scrolled back up the chat and realized that no, no you didn’t want to restart all of that. [[Better to leave it be.->C14]]

Nah, you know what, that would be weird. [[Nevermind.->C14]]

So you waited. And slowly, the hair started to grow in further. Soon enough, it looked like you’d never been bald at all. [[I'd done it.->C16]]

Right away, you noticed a confidence boost. At work, out in the street, at some bar, wherever. It was like being 25 again. And if anything, your hair seemed to be growing even faster. Within a couple of weeks, it had reached normal length. Not even a week after that, it began to get unruly. [[I decided to let it grow.->C17.1]] [[I got it cut.->C17.2]]

After all, it would be a shame to cut it off so soon. You wanted to show it off for the world. [[The hair kept coming.->C18]]

It felt good to get your standard haircut again after so many years. You looked just like you did before. [[But the hair kept coming.->C18]]

Not just on top of your head, either. You’d noticed more body hair since you’d taken the pill. Your stubble was growing in nice and thick, too. Any time you tried to grow a beard before, it grew in way too patchy. But now, you realized you could have one if you wanted. [[Hell yeah I wanted a beard!->C19.1]] [[Why? There was no need for it now.->C19.2]] [[Really, I wanted a mustache.->C19.3]]

Now that you could, why wouldn’t you? Hair, a beard: it was a whole new you. If you ran into anyone, you thought, they probably wouldn’t even recognize you now. [[Well, I at least kept it neatly trimmed.->C19.1.1]] [[I let it grow out all wild too, nice and bushy.->C19.1.2]]

That was right, you already had a full head of hair. Although you were surprised by how often you had to shave. Hardly a day went by before your stubble started getting intense again. [[Still, I liked how I looked.->C20]]

Damn right you did! And it grew in nice and bushy too, the kind of thing you could never have pulled off before, when the sparse hairs on your upper lip gave off a very pubescent vibe. You had to shave the rest of your face more often, though. After a couple of days unchecked, your stubble would start to overpower the mustache, growing in way faster than ever before. [[Still, I liked how I looked.->C20]]

You couldn’t have it hanging down to your chest, after all. It took work to maintain, though: this thing grew fast. [[Still, I liked how I looked.->C20]]

Why not? You could. It felt right. Natural. [[I liked how I looked.->C20]]

Whenever you went out, you wanted to pull every passerby aside and shout in their faces: “Can’t you see what a miracle this is?! I look fucking amazing and you don’t even realize it!” You really did, though: you looked great with your (if:(history: where its name contains "C17.1")'s length >= 1)[wild head of hair](if:(history: where its name contains "C17.2")'s length >= 1)[fresh, sharp haircut] and (if:(history: where its name contains "C19.2")'s length >= 1)[clean face](if:(history: where its name contains "C19.1.2")'s length >= 1)[fulsome beard](if:(history: where its name contains "C19.1.1")'s length >= 1)[well-manicured beard](if:(history: where its name contains "C19.3")'s length >= 1)[sweet mustache]. [[It would have been nice if more people noticed, though.->C21.1]] [[Yeah and fuck everyone who didn’t notice.->C21.2]]

The best you got was a passing comment from Mackenzie about your new haircut at the start of a Zoom strategy sesh.(if:(history: where its name contains "C19.1")'s length >= 1)[ And a bit about your new beard, of course, but that wasn’t even the main point of what you’d done.](if:(history: where its name contains "C19.3")'s length is 1)[ And a bit about your new mustache, of course, but that wasn’t even the main point of what you’d done.] [[Things didn’t improve on the dating front either.->C22]]

Right, AKA everyone. The best you got was a passing comment from Mackenzie about your new haircut at the start of a Zoom strategy sesh.(if:(history: where its name contains "C19.1")'s length >= 1)[ And a bit about your new beard, of course, but that wasn’t even the main point of what you’d done.](if:(history: where its name contains "C19.3")'s length is 1)[ And a bit about your new mustache, of course, but that wasn’t even the main point of what you’d done.] [[Things didn’t improve on the dating front either.->C22]]

The couple of times you met up with girls, they didn’t respond any differently. Shying away when you tried to make physical contact, “I had fun! I’ll let you know when I’m free,” and then ghosting. The same play and the same role, a repeat performance with a slight change of costume. [[It didn’t make any sense.->C23.1]] [[I should have known. Women were still fucking shallow.->C23.2]]

It didn’t make sense at all! Here you were, a nice, stable man in his 30s with a good job. Everything women said they wanted. You were even smart enough to grow your own hair! [[Well, whatever.->C24.1]] [[Fuck all of them.->C24.2]] [[Maybe it's because I was too short?->C24.3]]

They were. You had a good, stable job. You were a nice, stable guy. That was always what they claimed they wanted. You were even smart enough to grow your own hair! They should have been gagging for you. But it was never actually enough for them, was it? [[Well, whatever.->C24.1]] [[Fuck all of them.->C24.2]] [[Maybe it's because I was too short?->C24.3]]

Yeah, the right girl would come along. Eventually. You just had to optimize yourself more, keep improving. And then when things did turn around, you could be pulling a girl in the next league up. Someone you really deserved. [[But first, you had bigger problems to solve.->C25]]

Seriously. They didn’t even realize that they were the ones who didn’t deserve you. Well, you'd show them. You just had to optimize yourself more, get to a high enough level where you could pull the kind of girl you really deserved. Someone sexy enough to turn heads on the street. Someone who’d actually give you something to show for your goddamn time. [[But for now, you had bigger problems to solve.->C25]]

Every girl did say they only wanted guys who were six feet tall. You were basically average height, more or less, but average was still shorter than six feet, wasn’t it? And somehow that wasn’t enough for these girls who all seemed pretty average themselves. Perhaps you could make yourself taller too. There had to be a way. [[But I had bigger problems to solve first.->C25]]

It was probably a good thing you hadn't told anyone about the hair, because it was coming in a little too fast. The hairs were different, too. Rougher somehow? Scrappier. They were wiry, curled, almost hard things. They resisted combing and grooming as if they had a mind of their own. (if:(history: where its name contains "C17.2")'s length >= 1)[[[They were getting harder to cut.->D1]]](if:(history: where its name contains "C17.1")'s length >= 1)[[[They weren’t growing out how I expected.->K1]]]

Soon, you were going to the barber every week, and it was taking him longer each time. “Man,” he told you after your third or fourth visit. “I don’t know what’s going on with your hair. I've never seen nothing like this.” [[“Yeah, I guess I just have strong genes.”->D2.1]] [[“Oh, uh, weird. I didn’t notice anything.”->D2.2]] [[“Actually, I tried this special treatment to help it regrow.”->D2.3]]

“Huh.” He didn’t sound convinced. “Okay. I dunno, maybe you wanna see like a hair doctor? It wasn’t like this before, right? Gotta be some way to get it back to normal.” [[He had a point.->D3]]

“Really?” He sounded incredulous. “I dunno, maybe you wanna see a hair doctor or something? Cause this ain’t normal." [[He had a point.->D3]]

“Oh.” He sounded weirded out, as if all his other customers weren’t slathering on Hims or taking steroids or doing some other shit to their bodies. “I dunno man, whatever it is, I don’t think it’s good for you. Maybe stop taking it?” [[He had a point.->D3]]

You didn’t like to admit it, but your hair was getting out of control. You hadn’t planned on this.(if:(history: where its name contains "C19.3")'s length >= 1)[ It wasn’t just the hair on top of your head, either. It had become basically impossible to maintain the mustache. The stubble around it wouldn’t stop ruining your look, while the mustache itself kept creeping into your mouth like a thief through the back window.](if:(history: where its name contains "C19.1")'s length >= 1)[ It wasn’t just the hair on top of your head, either. Your beard had quickly become unmanageable, shooting off in every possible direction. And the hairs on the top of your lip kept creeping into your mouth like a thief through the back window.] [[I had to double down, keep cutting and shaving while I figured this out.->D4.1]] [[I decided to give up on cutting it. It could grow as much as it wanted.->D4.2]]

Fine, you thought. You’d chosen to grow the hair, so let it grow. All this shaving and cutting was a waste of time. [[It was time for a new look.->K2]]

You got yourself a new electric razor, with a supply of extra heads. Plus some grooming scissors. You started shaving right on the dot when you woke up every morning, and trimming your own hair every week. [[But it wasn’t enough.->D5]]

The hair still kept growing. By five in the afternoon, you had way more than a five o’clock shadow. [[So I recommitted.->D6]]

You shaved twice a day now, morning and evening. You started buzzing your hair as well. It was easier than trying to manage weekly trims. [[Then there was the body hair.->D7]]

There certainly was. Where you already had body hair, it grew in even thicker. Just about everywhere else, speculative shoots were making their way up from your skin, seeking unclaimed land. Soon, you committed to handling your body as frequently as your face and crown. [[“Manscaping.”->D10]]

Not that you liked thinking of in those terms. This wasn't vanity, this was an essential act of maintenance, one that you had to carry out every morning. Get up, piss, splash your face with cold water, and then: [[Razor time.->D11]]

Over the top of your head and then down to the nape of your neck, behind your ears, then over to the front and across your face. Tilting up your head so you could get the full underside of your neck, then stretching to catch as much of your back as you could before switching to the front again and running down to your navel, taking care to avoid the nipples, before moving down for the pubes, the legs, the top of the feet. And then again, in the evening. [[It took so long.->D12.1]] [[It had to be done.->D12.2]]

It did. But what other choice did you have? [[And it worked, for a while.->D13]]

No matter how much of a pain it was, you knew you had no other option. [[And it worked, for a while.->D13]]

You figured the hassle was worth it. You’d get up, spend half an hour shaving your entire body, go about your day, shave in the evening, and then repeat the next day. There were worse prices to pay for having a full head of hair, you figured. [[Except it grew longer.->D14]]

Your half-hour morning shave routine started to take closer to forty-five minutes, then nearly an hour. The hair kept growing across your body, never reaching an end. [[But it wasn’t only that.->D15]]

The hair itself was becoming more resistant. You’d shave a spot and somehow immediately after, you’d notice hairs that you’d missed. You couldn’t believe how quickly your razor blades were getting worn out. [[I began replacing the blades every week.->D16]]

They kept breaking, kept getting dulled against the hairs, so you kept replacing them, more and more often, in your endless war against the growth. [[But they kept growing.->D17]]

No question about it now, the hairs were coming in with ever greater force and speed. You’d wake up in the morning, and your hair would be longer than the day before, your stubble thicker, your pubes bushier. No matter what you did, they just kept growing, more and more and more. [[Fuck it. If the hairs wanted to grow, then let them grow.->D4.2]] [[I couldn’t let them win. I kept shaving.->D18]]

And cutting, and tweezing, and plucking. If the hairs were stubborn, then hell, so were you. It was starting to consume more of your life, this need to keep the hairs from taking over your body. But it wasn’t enough. It just wasn’t enough. You had a three times a day shave routine now, regular maintenance with tweezers, a constant supply of razor heads. And you were still falling behind. [[This wasn’t working. I needed to find some kind of cure.->D19]]

At this rate, you’d be spending your entire life shaving. Clearly there had to be a better way. So you began your search again, going in reverse this time. If you could find Hydroxosporodine and get it to restore your hair, surely you could find a way to reverse the worst of its effects. [[I went back through all the places that led me to the cure in the first place.->D20]]

(link:"Subreddits and Discord servers.")[Some guy who posted in the HAIR JORDAN VERY COOL YUNG BODYHACKERS Discord about Hydroxosporodine seemed to have had a mental breakdown, but nothing about out-of-control hair growth.] (link:"Archived blogs.")[They just cut off at a certain point. Anyone who got obsessed enough with the question eventually stopped posting.] (link:"Pirated research papers.")[A few on possible hair regeneration that you’d already seen. Nothing on long-term usage, nothing on side effects or excessive growth.] [[My dealer on the “dark web.”->D21]]

“no sorry I don’t know anything about that” he replied when you messaged him about the growth. You stared at his non-answer for a moment before responding: [[“You mean no one else has had this problem?”->D22.1]] [[“Well do you have anything that can stop it?”->D22.2]] [[“Bullshit. What the fuck did your pills do to me?”->D22.3]]

“we don’t really do customer service you got the pill, whatever it does isn’t on us.” After that, he stopped replying to you. [[There was nothing.->D23]]

“like something to make you lose hair? no sorry. maybe see a doctor?” And that was it. [[There was nothing.->D23]]

He never replied to your message. [[There was nothing.->D23]]

After all the research you did, you still hadn’t turned up anything useful. [[I needed to find some kind of outside help.->E1]] [[I had to solve this myself.->G1]]

You started with a general physician. “Huh.” He said when he examined you. “Hm. This is really outside my area of expertise. I’ve never seen anything like this. Anything that prompted the growth?” [[I was too embarrassed to tell him about the Hydroxosporodine.->E2.1]] [[If I wanted help, I figured I had to tell him the truth.->E2.2]]

“No,” you said, “it just started growing like this.” “A couple months ago now? With no change in your lifestyle? Huh.” He rubbed his (bald) head as he pondered this. “Well, I’ll need to send you to a specialist.” [[One specialist wasn’t enough.->E3]]

“There’s, uh, this pill I found on the internet. To make my hair grow back. Because I was going bald. Just a little bald. Just starting to. But still. And, uh, now my hair won’t stop growing.” “Huh!” He exclaimed. “Well, you know you can find all kinds of nonsense online; it’s never a good idea to try something like that. I’ll need to send you to a specialist.” [[One specialist wasn’t enough.->E3]]

The first doctor turned into two, then three, then a whole crowd of them coming to gawk at you and the hairs that were slowly, unavoidably starting to take over your body. (if:(history: where its name contains "E2.2")'s length >= 1)[[[They had a lot of questions about Hydroxosporodine.->E4.1]]](if:(history: where its name contains "E2.1")'s length >= 1)[[[They were suspicious of my story.->E4.2]]]

The doctors would crowd around and ask you unnervingly specific questions. At this point, you weren’t even sure who most of them were. But they were all so eager to poke at you and draw your blood and pluck your hair and ask into every part of your physical existence. Still, it always came back to the drug. It was as if you were nothing more than a vessel to them. A novel testing ground. The hungry gleam in their eyes whenever they saw you made you uncomfortable. [[They treated me like a freak.->E5]]

They kept asking you if you’d taken some kind of substance, if anything had precipitated this. Multiple times, some of them straight up asked you if you’d taken Hydroxosporodine. You insisted you hadn’t. At this point, you weren’t even sure who most of the doctors were. But they were all so eager to poke at you and draw your blood and pluck your hair and ask into every part of your physical existence. You were a novel testing ground for them. The hungry gleam in their eyes whenever they saw you made you uncomfortable. [[They treated me like a freak.->E5]]

Worse than that. You were their personal toy, a doll they could examine, even take apart if they wanted. And you got the feeling that they did want to. All the while, nothing improved. Your hair kept growing, no matter how many doctors prodded at you and tested you and asked you questions. And then one of them suggested they take you to a facility. [[I didn’t say anything.->E6]] [[“What?” I asked.->E6]] [[“I don’t think so,” I said.->E6]]

He gave you some smooth line about how it would be more comfortable for you. Like going to a spa. He said you’d be taken care of there. Your whole treatment would be covered, so you wouldn’t have to worry about anything. It was a top-notch facility, very secure. [[I must have looked dubious.->E7]]

After taking a look at your face, he suddenly switched from chummy to very, very grave. “I didn’t want to tell you this,” he said. “But your life could be in danger. If the condition keeps spreading, we fear it will start interfering with your bodily functions. Dangerously soon.” [[I drew in a sharp breath.->E8]] [[I looked down at my hands, covered in hairs.->E8]]

“So you see,” the doctor continued, “we need you to stay there for your own good. If we can’t monitor you more continuously, your health could deteriorate without us knowing. It’s your only chance for survival. We can take you right now.” “So!” The doctor smiled. “What do you say?” [[“If it can help free me from this, then fine.”->F1]] [["No, I don't want to go anywhere.”->F11]]

The doctor’s smile grew, looking like one of relief. Or victory. “That’s good. That’s very good, son. We’re going to get you the help you need.” He put an awkward hand on your shoulder. [[They had a van waiting for me.->F2]]

It was surprisingly sleek and well-appointed. During the ride, they had you sign an endless procession of forms. After that, you sat in silence as you were driven somewhere upstate. [[They never told me exactly where it was.->F3]]

There were lots of things they didn’t tell you. When you arrived, you were given orders, not explanations. All for your own good, they assured you. They gave you a strict schedule, a regulated diet, a series of routines that had to be followed, and a battery of even more tests, each more obscure than the rest. [[I never saw another patient there.->F4]]

Your access to the grounds was restricted. The staff only spoke to you when necessary. For all you knew, there could have been plenty of other patients, but you felt very alone. It was like being in a luxury prison built for one. [[I never tried to leave.->F5.1]] [[I asked them to let me go.->F5.2]] [[I tried to escape, again and again.->F5.3]]

You were too beaten down, too desperate for a cure. You’d failed to find one for yourself, so what other choice did you have? You gave up control. All the while, the tests continued. [[And my hair kept growing.->F6]]

The staff explained to you, with very patronizing smiles and short sentences, that you’d signed away your right to do that. They would be keeping you until they had decided you were ready to leave. After that, they kept a security guard outside your door. All the while, the tests continued. [[And my hair kept growing.->F6]]

There was too much security. You never even made it over the wall. After the first attempt, they kept a guard outside your room. After the third try, a mad dash down the hall, they revoked your right to go outside. After the fourth, you realized how fruitless it was. All the while, the tests continued. [[And my hair kept growing.->F6]]

Nothing they did could stop its growth. Even when they scoured your body with some sort of chemical mixture that burned off all the hair and turned your skin a raw red, it would be back within hours. It began to grow in places you’d never seen hair grow before. Straight off your nose, your lips, the skin around your eyes. From under your fingernails, from in between your toes. From any soft surface you had, the hair would come out and never stop coming. [[That was just as well for them.->F7]]

After all, that was your purpose here, wasn’t it? The more it grew, the more use there was for you. The more they could observe and sample and test. [[They’d let it grow for weeks.->F8]]

The hair would flow out of you, around you, over you. From your nostrils and ears and anus, anywhere it could, anywhere imaginable, it would lock into solidified clumps weighing you down, dragging behind you on the floor, entombing you. When the hair began growing in your throat, they shoved in a tube to provide you with food and water. They didn’t want you to die, not when you were still producing hair for them to study. It became impossible to see yourself as anything other than a seedbed for the hair. The hair was all you saw, all you smelled, all you heard. [[Occasionally they would shave it all away.->F9]]

They never told you why. They didn’t bother talking to you at all anymore, and you could no longer speak. You just knew that sometimes, you'd suddenly feel something through the layers of your hair, feel them slathering on their chemical agent or going at you with clippers and razors. Slowly, the world outside the hairs would reappear. But there was nothing to see or smell or hear or feel, just the sterile, bright white confines of the room that held you. [[Inevitably, the hair would grow back.->F10]]

The cycle repeated endlessly. You knew it would repeat like this until they lost interest in you and finally allowed you to die, whenever that would be. At least when the hairs grew back to cover you up again, you could find a kind of comfort in it. As long as you were trapped in a prison, you preferred it to be the one you made for yourself. [[The End->END1]]

Thank you for playing. (link: "Return to Start")[(reload:)]

“Are you sure?” he asked. “You won’t have to pay for it, if that’s what you’re worried about.” You told him you were sure. “Oh. Okay, well, think it over. I’m just going to step outside and let the team know.” The doctor gave you a weak smile, eyes betraying what he really felt: //great, now there’s a problem.// He left the room, closing the door behind him. [[I could hear faint voices from the other side.->F12]]

You stepped closer to the door and listened, catching stray bits of the conversation: “...Doesn’t want to go…told him…Get security.” You realized if you wanted your freedom, you would need to get out, right now. [[There was no use. I’d just stay here and wait.->F13.2]] [[I decided to make a run for it.->F13.1]]

After a few minutes, the doctor came back into the room. You looked up from the hairy hands you’d been picking at. “So,” the doctor said, smile still there but increasingly nervous-looking, “we need to take you with us. For your own safety. I’m afraid this is involuntary. You’re a danger to yourself and potentially others if you remain untreated and out in the world. I really hope you understand.” [[“Others?” I asked, confused.->F14.1]] [[I stayed silent.->F14.2]]

The doctor nodded. “Of course. What if this condition is contagious? What if it spreads?” He looked back toward the door and sighed before speaking again: “Anyway, I’ve asked security to accompany you, just to make sure. We have a van waiting for you downstairs. The facility you’ll be staying at is top notch, really. You’ll be better in no time.” [[“Fine,” I said. “What choice do I have, anyway?”->F15.1]] [[I made a run for the door.->F15.2]]

The doctor looked back toward the door and sighed before continuing: “Anyway, I’ve asked security to accompany you, just to make sure. We have a van waiting for you downstairs. The facility you’ll be staying at is top notch, really. You’ll be better in no time.” [[“Fine,” I said. “What choice do I have, anyway?”->F15.1]] [[I made a run for the door.->F15.2]]

The doctor gave a very relieved looking smile and showed you out the door. There were two burly security guards waiting there who marched you downstairs to the waiting van, each of them staying close to your side. They showed you into the van, a surprisingly modern and spacious one, and locked the doors after you. It was a long ride to the facility, somewhere upstate far outside the city. [[They never told me exactly where it was.->F3]]

The doctor hadn’t been bluffing. There were two burly men in uniforms outside. You’d barely managed to step into the hallway before they grabbed you. Keeping a tight grip on your arms, they marched you out to a waiting van as everyone in the hospital stared. The two of them handcuffed you to a handle inside the van and left you there. Without a word, the van’s driver pulled away. No matter how much you thrashed or screamed, he ignored you. It was a long, uncomfortable ride to the facility, somewhere upstate far outside the city. [[They never told me exactly where it was.->F3]]

You waited for the sound of the voices to recede, and then you shot for the door, pulling it open and stepping out. You turned left and started running. Behind you somewhere down the hallway, you could hear a shout. [[I didn’t look back.->F16]]

You kept running, taking every turn that you could, until you spotted an exit sign and followed its arrow, never allowing yourself to slow down, even as your breathing grew heavier. You came to a pair of doors leading onto a stairwell, marked emergency exit only. [[I shoved through them.->F17]]

You bounded down the stairs, the alarm resounding throughout the wide stairwell. You ignored it, kept going until you got to the ground floor, and then kept pushing through each gasping breath until you were out an automatic glass door into the sunshine again. [[I counted two blocks from the hospital before I let myself stop.->F18.1]] [[I kept running until I collapsed, totally out of breath.->F18.2]]

You looked around. You were alone. You’d gotten away. You let yourself catch your breath for a moment before you kept walking, putting some more distance between yourself and the hospital. [[I got on the A train and went back home.->F19]]

It took a couple of minutes for you to regain your breath and get up off the ground. You looked around. You were alone. You’d gotten away. You took another few beats to compose yourself and started to walk further off, away from the hospital. [[I got on the A train and went back home.->F19]]

You collapsed onto the couch and stared at your phone. Messages and calls were popping up from the hospital, from the doctors, from unknown numbers. You blocked them all, then threw your phone into the corner. You’d tried getting help. And what happened? They tried to lock you up like some kind of animal. It was clear now, you were on your own. [[I would go to war on the hair myself.->G1]] [[I gave up. It was time to stop fighting the hair.->D4.2]]

Shaving wasn’t enough. Cutting wasn’t enough. You needed to do more. But what?(if:(history: where its name contains "E1")'s length >= 1)[ The doctors hadn’t been able to fix it, but they were limited in what they could do. Maybe you could figure out something they didn’t have the stomach for.] [[I was open to anything.->G3]]

Surgery was a promising avenue, but you decided you couldn’t put this in anyone else’s hands. (if:(history: where its name contains "E1")'s length >= 1)[Not after what happened when you sought help before. They could still be looking for you. For all you knew, the minute you went in for a skin graft or whatever, they could show up and take you away.](if:(history: where its name contains "E1")'s length is 0)[You knew nobody else could be trusted. They’d start asking questions about Hydroxosporodine, where you’d gotten it, all kinds of things. You didn’t want that kind of trouble.] [[I had to figure something else out.->G4]]

You kept shaving, kept buzzing, kept plucking, kept cutting, kept looking. The hairs kept growing, kept needing to be removed, kept piling up around you, kept clogging drains and toilets, kept colonizing all the space around you. Managing all of it, while looking for a more permanent solution, consumed you. The most surprising thing about losing your job was how long it took them. It was fine. You had some savings. Enough to last you a couple months, while you found some kind of solution. [[That was the most important thing.->G6]]

The solution. You needed something. You decided that your best shot was a chemical burn. Scour your skin, hopefully raze the hairs right out. [[You ordered what you needed online.->G7]]

A basic chemistry kit, some bottled solutions, distilled water, that was it. You didn’t bother with safety equipment. It was all going on your skin anyway. You spent some time working it out, mixing what you needed to the specifications you’d found online. [[And then you got to work.->G8]]

You started with a few small drops on your arm. The solution sizzled as it hit, and for a moment you smelled what uncomfortably reminded you of seared meat. Then you felt the pain, a bright burning sensation on your skin that made you wince. [[I'd felt worse.->G9.1]] [[It hurt so much.->G9.2]]

You had. Not many times, but you had. And it seemed to be worth the pain. When you looked down, your skin was raw, red, and hairless. Some strands lay curled on the floor under you, looking singed. Defeated. [[I put on more.->G10]]

It did, but maybe it was worth the pain. When you looked down, your skin was raw, red, and hairless. Some strands lay curled on the floor under you, looking singed. Defeated. [[I put on more.->G10]]

You spread it across your arm and felt the burn spread, saw your skin redden, watched the charred hairs wilt away. (link:"More.")[The other arm now, the smell growing stronger. The pain lessened the more you put on, not because it hurt any less but because the more you spread, the less you could focus on any one part of your body.(show: ?AndMore)] |AndMore)[(link:"And more.")[Your chest. Your back. Painting yourself clean. Consumed by holy fire.(show: ?StillMore)]] |StillMore)[(link:"Still more.")[Your legs now, down to your feet. Your entire body burning, ascendant. Drops of the solution landing on the floor, the hairs floating down from your body all around you. [[I poured it on the rest of my body.->G11]]]]

You let it run down your skin, over the rest of you. It streamed through your butt cheeks, spread over your balls, wetted your dick. When was the last time they had all been so clean? Probably never. Only one part of your body left now. [[I splashed it generously over my head.->G12.2]] [[Maybe the head could wait.->G12.1]]

Some level of caution left in you. And why shouldn’t you wait and see how your body reacted first? [[After that, a cold shower.->G13]]

Let it all go. Things had gone far enough. You closed your eyes, tightened your mouth, and let the burn wash over you. [[After that, a cold shower.->G13]]

Even without any heat, even on low pressure, it felt like the water was piercing into you. Your body felt raw and fragile, but pure. You collapsed into your bed and stayed there for a long time. [[There was nothing to bother me now.->G14]]

No job, no one had been in touch. Your war with the hairs had consumed so much of yourself that you’d barely even ventured outside. All you had to do was lay there and recover. Let yourself heal. [[But then I felt it.->G15]]

Little pricks of pain, pushing up against your tender skin from inside. [[The hairs.->G16]]

They were growing again. Your entire body was so raw, you could feel each and every one of them as they probed your skin poked their way out. The hairs were growing out even more aggressively than before. [[I broke down in tears.->G17.1]] [[I kept my resolve.->G17.2]]

It was too much. After everything you’d tried, you still couldn’t stop them. But all the tears in the world couldn’t help you. The hairs didn’t care. They kept growing. [[They hurt.->G18]]

You wouldn’t give into an emotional tantrum, not after everything you’d already gone through. But the hairs didn’t care. They kept growing with no regard for your stoicism. [[They hurt.->G18]]

Little needles stabbing you from inside your flesh, all over your body, penetrating their way through you in revenge. [[And they were growing in even more places.->G19]]

You’d thought your body had run out of surfaces to host the hairs long ago. You were wrong. Not just from inside the ear, but across the folded skin of it. Your eyelashes didn’t just grow longer; fine hairs curled their ways out from across the surface of your eyelids. When you looked down at your hands, you saw hairs not just growing on them, but slithering their way out from under your fingernails. [[They kept growing.->G20]]

And from more disturbing places. You’d been coughing up hairs for a while. But now, it felt like they were stuck in your throat all the time. You checked in the mirror with the aid of your phone’s flashlight. [[They weren’t stuck there.->G21]]

They were growing. From out of your mouth, in your throat, sprouting from the top of your tongue. [[I plucked one of the hairs out of my tongue.->G22]]

You pulled at it, letting your fingers ride the pain until the hair tensed up and snapped off. You looked at it waving there in your hand and knew that this couldn't continue. [[Fire. Only fire would do.->H1]] [[I’d drown myself in the solution if I needed to.->I1]] [[I couldn’t keep fighting. The hairs had won.->J1]]

You’d avoided it up to this point. It just seemed too dangerous, too painful, too extreme. But that was why it might work. [[As long as the burns went deep enough.->H2]]

You’d looked it up before. A bad enough burn, and hair would never grow there again. But that took a pretty bad burn. And you weren’t sure you could control it so well. [[Sure I could.->H3.1]] [[I probably couldn’t. But there was no other choice.->H3.2]]

You tried to buck yourself up. After all, you’d cured your baldness when that seemed impossible, although that thought proved less and less reassuring as the hairs spread further. [[I prepared what I needed.->H4]]

You’d tried everything else. If it went out of control, it went out of control. It was better to go down fighting than let the hairs destroy you. [[I prepared what I needed.->H4]]

Some butane, oil-soaked rags, a makeshift torch made from a broomstick, a couple of lighters you had kicking around the house. A bucket of water. [[I lit the torch.->H5]]

Standing there in your kitchen, you held the torch in your right hand, watched it burn in front of you, then slowly, shakily brought it toward your left arm. [[I took a deep breath and closed my eyes.->H6]] [[I plunged right ahead.->H6]]

A high shriek erupted from your mouth as you felt your skin fester under the flames. You could hear it sizzling. Could you smell it? [[I could.->H7.1]] [[I wasn't sure.->H7.2]]

Your flesh cooking. You hurt, you hurt terribly. It was time to move the torch. [[I moved it up my arm.->H8]]

Maybe the smell of cooking meat was real, maybe your mind had invented it. But you hurt, you hurt terribly – that you knew was true. It was time to move the torch. [[I moved it up my arm.->H8]]

The pain continued. The sizzling sound, the cooking smell. The hurt, always the hurt. It wasn’t going away. [[That kind of pain was to be expected, though.->H9.1]] [[Why wasn't it going away?->H9.2]]

That’s what you thought at first, but when you moved the torch away, your skin felt the same. As if the fire had never gone out. You looked down. You were still burning all across your arm. The fire really had never gone out. [[I rushed for the bucket of water.->H10]]

Something wasn’t right. Even when you moved the torch away, your skin felt the same. As if the fire had never gone out. You looked down. You were still burning all across your arm. The fire really had never gone out. [[I rushed for the bucket of water.->H10]]

The water steamed angrily into the air as you poured it onto your left arm. [[It wasn’t enough.->H11]]

You felt burning across your left side: your torso, your shoulder, your stomach. And your arm still. It was smoldering, re-catching the blaze. [[Like dry kindling.->H12]]

Each hair was a little wick primed for the flame, refusing to shed itself, carrying and holding the flames onto you. They wouldn’t go, you thought, not alone. They wanted you all to burn down together. You had to put them out. [[The kitchen sink.->H13.1]] [[The shower.->H13.2]]

It was only a couple steps away. You flung yourself as far into it as you could, pushed the tap up, let the water run across your arm. It wasn’t enough, not nearly. Too much of your body was already aflame. [[You'd have to try the shower.->H13.2]]

You ran to the bathroom, turned the handle, let the water cascade down over you. The pain as it hit was somehow even worse. And it still wasn’t enough. It wasn’t enough water. It spat and sizzled and steamed against the fire, but the flames were too strong now, too many, too hot. They kept burning, the shower growing hotter and hotter. [[I stumbled out.->H14]]

You fell out of the shower and caught yourself on the bathroom floor. The flames were rising across your back now. You collapsed there, on your hands and knees, head hung low. [[The flames whipped across my face.->H15]]

You closed your eyes and felt the pain tickle across your lashes. You felt them creep up the back of your neck, to the bundle of kindling you'd grown atop your crown. [[I was primed to burn.->H16]]

In those last moments, smoldering and crackling, you had just enough time to wonder: when they found your corpse, would it be a bald one? [[The End->END2]]

Thank you for playing. (link: "Return to Start")[(reload:)]

You ordered as much of it as you could. It had at least managed to slow the growth. Maybe more would stop it. And if not, well, fuck it. It was either this or get strangled to death by your own hairs. You mixed up vats full of the solution. Still smarting from the hairs that thrust their way through you, you stood in your kitchen, measuring and stirring. [[Finally, I’d made enough.->I2]]

One by one, you lugged big plastic buckets full of the stuff from your kitchen to the bathroom. You’d stopped up the drain and covered the bathtub in plastic sheeting. Each bucket of the solution hissed a little as you poured it in. The solution sat gray and brackish in there, its smell singing your nostrils slightly when you sniffed at the air. You could just step right in. You should step in. [[I plunged into the tub.->I3.1]] [[I slowly dipped a toe in.->I3.2]]

You didn’t quite throw yourself in, but you didn’t hesitate, even as the chemical heat of it crackled across your skin. [[I felt my body clench.->I4]]

You held your foot above the water and lowered it in slowly. From the moment your toe touched the solution, the chemical heat of it crackled and then pierced into your body. The pain was stronger than you expected, catching you off balance, and you half fell, half slid into the solution with a loud splash. [[I felt my body clench.->I4]]

There was that burn again. All over you, all at once. You wanted to cry out, but you couldn’t. You felt so naked in the tub, so vulnerable, an infant dumped into scalding water. You wondered for a moment why anyone would do this to you, then remembered that you had done it to yourself. [[I held myself there.->I5]]

The only thing you wanted to do was leap out of the bathtub, but you forced yourself to stay, still and seething. You needed to give the solution time to seep fully into your skin. You kept holding there. Until you thought you couldn’t take it anymore. [[That’s when I submerged my head.->I6]]

You took a deep breath, clenched your eyes, held your nose with one shaky, raw red hand, and slid downwards into the solution. You let it settle over your head with little waves of motion, the liquid roar of it filling your ears. [[I held myself there.->I8]]

You held your eyes and mouth closed tight as you could. Trying not to breathe in or out, you counted down. (after:3s)[Five.] (after:4.5s)[Four.] (after:6s)[Three.] (after:7.5s)[Two.] (after:9s)[One.] (after:10.5s)[[[Zero.->I9]]]

You emerged gasping for breath. Some of the liquid dripped into your mouth as you fought for air. It tasted corroded. The air hummed around your body. You felt a metallic sort of pain. You spat, shook your head, stood up. [[It all hurt.->I10]]

The pain was constant, consistent, all across your body. You stepped out of the tub. Behind you lay a thick trail of hairs, dead, curled in on themselves. They floated in a layer on the tub, slid their way out onto the top of the rim, formed a dark, damp carpet on the bathroom floor. [[I ran my hands over my body.->I11]]

It wasn’t smooth. Your skin was covered in rough runs of surface, jagged and cracked, maybe open and bleeding, maybe that was just the solution. But there were no hairs. No soft hair or wiry hair or a stubborn few rare hairs, no tender little shoots or bristling shaved pricks of hair. Nothing on your skin. [[I laughed out loud.->I12]]

Despite the difficulty, the fears of a hard recovery, the pain, you couldn’t stop laughing. Once you opened your mouth, out the laughs came, bouncing around your bathroom’s tile walls, echoing across the surface of the tub. And then the laughter caught in your throat. [[A hair.->I13]]

No, hairs. You remembered the ones that had started growing inside your mouth. The solution really had stopped at the skin. They were growing inside you still. Fighting back. Cutting off your throat, choking you in retribution. [[There was nothing else to do. I gave up.->I14.1]] [[I'd drown them if I had to.->I14.2]]

You should have known a topical solution would never be enough. No matter how strong, no matter how painful, no matter how intense. And now there was only one thing left to do. Even if it killed you. You knew it probably would. But at least you'd be showing some kind of resistance. [[I knelt before the tub.->I14.2.2]]

You sat down on the floor and laid your head back against the rim of your tub, listening to the solution shift and burble behind you. If you closed your eyes, you could almost imagine you’d gone somewhere far away, the burn on your skin from a bright sun, the sounds behind you the lapping of ocean waves. [[But I'd explored further than any beach.->I14.1.2]]

You’d summoned the hair to you. You'd brought this upon yourself. But, you told yourself as you drew less and less air and then nothing at all, at least you’d made something grow. You’d created life, of a kind, and in exchange, you were giving your own. [[The End->END3]]

Thank you for playing. (link: "Return to Start")[(reload:)]

There on your knees, you cupped your hands together and brought them into the noxious liquid. You lowered your head to meet them, then dipped the solution into your open, trembling mouth, feeling the dead hairs floating on the surface slip and stick. [[I drank as quickly as I could.->I14.2.3]]

You gulped it down, felt a roar inside your mouth and then nothing. You didn’t think you could move your tongue anymore. You felt the same burn inside your body as out. Deep in your chest, something flowering inside you. You fell back, resting your head against the sink. The room blurred and snapped into focus, then grew blurry once more. [[I reached into my mouth.->I14.2.4]]

You grabbed about desperately and withdrew a sopping hand. Holding it up in front of your face, you weakly opened your fist and narrowed your eyes. Your hand was covered in hairs. You must have finally scoured them out. All of them. [[I’d won.->I14.2.5]]

Death was the price of victory. You’d won the war against your baldness, and then won the war against your own hair. As you slipped down to the bathroom floor and away from the light of life, you at least knew that you were dying on your own terms. [[The End->END4]]

Thank you for playing. (link: "Return to Start")[(reload:)]

You gave up on it all. No more cutting, shaving, plucking, tweezing, burning, waxing, smoothing. No more anything. You had nothing left now. You'd invited the hairs in, and in they had come. You were surprised by how freeing it felt. To no longer be at war with yourself, fighting against your own body. The hairs could have you. [[If only they weren’t growing in my throat.->J2]]

You could have lived with them covering your skin, you thought. But the more they grew across your body, the more you felt them there, inside of you. Stuck to your tongue, running alongside your teeth, sprouting from your gums. You could barely eat or drink or open your mouth. But your throat was the real issue. It seemed that every day – and it hadn’t been many days now – your breathing grew more restricted. [[It only got worse.->J3]]

Each day the rest of you shut down further, your hearing a dull shifting roar as the hairs covered your ear canals, your sight occluded by a thick bramble of lashes and cascading brows. [[And then, one morning, I knew.->J4]]

You woke up to the same blunted ambient noises, the same vague filtering of light passing through to your eyes. And the same labored breathing. [[But this time, more so.->J5]]

Each breath you drew was harder, shorter, something less than what you needed. You could imagine them, the hairs in your throat, growing further, weaving together in the wetness of your body, closing off every opening. [[Why were they doing this?->J6]]

Didn’t they know that they’d won? Didn’t they understand that if they killed their host, they’d die too? Of course, you knew they couldn’t understand that, couldn’t think at all. But it didn’t feel that way. [[We would all perish together.->J7]]

There was no negotiating with what grew from your body, no controlling it. You grew, they grew, and now that would end. And so you lay there on your bed, unable to draw breath, until all that was left was a mass of dead hairs. Maybe someone, at some point, would find what remained of you buried somewhere deep inside of them. [[The End->END5]]

Thank you for playing. (link: "Return to Start")[(reload:)]

The hairs grew in more and more, faster and faster. You’d never given off “big hairy guy” vibes before, but the hair filled in a lot of body volume for you.(if:(history: where its name contains "C19.2")'s length >= 1)[ Your face was no longer clean shaven; the stubble just grew in too fast.](if:(history: where its name contains "C19.3")'s length >= 1)[ Your mustache had slowly been joined by a full beard as shaving the rest of your face got too annoying.] You saw people look at you differently, step out of your way more. [[It felt good. I embraced the hair.->K5]] [[It was too much. I'd do whatever I could to cut it all off.->K2.1.2]]

The hairs made you feel like a man. After all, they were what a real man had. Hair all over the body. Spilling out of armpits, running riot across the chest, rippling across the calves. You’d read that it was all tied to testosterone, the level of body hair people had. And you? Well, you clearly had testosterone in spades now. [[I did before, too!->K6.1]] [[Damn right I did.->K6.2]]

Sure, sure. Of course you did. It wasn’t like you didn’t have any body hair before, didn’t work out or anything. But people might not have known it. Now, though, anybody would know you were a man thanks to all those strong, luscious hairs of yours. [[They could be a problem, sometimes.->K7]]

You were proud of that. Just to look at you, anybody would know you were a man thanks to those strong, luscious hairs of yours. [[They could be a problem, sometimes.->K7]]

The more you grew, the more looks you got. Sometimes, out on the street, in the subway, at the bodega, you could have thought people were disgusted by you. [[Then fuck them for being judgmental.->K8.1]] [[It could feel pretty awkward.->K8.2]]

It was their problem if they didn’t like your hair. But as the hair kept growing and the reactions got so constant, you couldn’t leave the house without feeling angry at everyone you passed. Each person was a potential fight. [[I began going out less.->K9]]

You knew it wasn’t your fault. But as the hair kept growing and the reactions got so constant, you couldn’t help but feel like you were doing something wrong every time you left the house. [[I began going out less.->K9]]

What did you even have to go out for, anyway? You just ordered what you needed online. Otherwise you stayed in, played videogames or scrolled on your phone, not any different from how you spent your time before. [[This way, the hairs could grow further.->K10]]

You liked letting them sprout from you, took pride in their health and density. You were a gardener with prize-winning flora, a shepherd carefully tending his woolly flock. Plus, you felt such strength and energy from the testosterone that fueled them. It was an extra reward for your ingenuity. [[All I had to do was let them grow further.->K12]]

The hair from the top of your head locked and matted together, flowing into and bonding with the hairs on your back. Your eyebrows hung down, your pubes curled outward, your thighs became completely carpeted. More hairs sprang out of every available source: your hands, your ears, your sides. Out from under your fingernails, up from the spaces between your toes. [[I soaked up their energy.->K13]]

All that power surging through you made you feel restless. Now you were again drawn to head out, but only late at night You’d wander the streets alone at two, three, four in the morning, when you could have the city all to yourself. [[I barely saw any other people.->K14]]

When you did encounter them, you got far more than uncomfortable looks. Someone shrieked and ran away once, others hastily crossed the street, a few simply froze in fear, trembling as you passed. [[I enjoyed that.->K15.1]] [[I felt bad for them.->K15.2]]

Seeing what your presence alone could do gave you a thrill. It was a form of power, in a way. You weren’t just different from them. You were better. [[I could have gotten used to this new existence.->K16]]

After all, it wasn’t like you were scaring them on purpose. You didn’t want to hurt anybody. [[But also…->K15.2.1]]

Things had been scary at first, sure, but now you could appreciate the way it made you feel, the power it had bestowed upon you. Like Samson, you’d discovered strengths in your locks. [[If only everyone else saw it that way.->K17]]

It gave you a bit of a thrill, didn’t it? A kind of confirmation of your power, no matter what else you told yourself. You weren’t scared of them. They were scared of //you//. [[I could have gotten used to this new existence.->K16]]

There was one problem. A big one. Work. [[It had started with Mackenzie.->K18]]

Of course it had. She was always too puritan and judgmental, interested in her safe little TikToks over anything else. But since she was cute and young, your manager had always decided she was the future. [[And of course she felt threatened.->K19]]

Threatened by hair! Not hair on her body. Not hair in the workplace. Hair on her screen. She said she “thought she had to say something.” Apparently it was “for the sake of the whole team.” She sat there in her Zoom box and said that your appearance was making a lot of people uncomfortable. Actually, they were worried about you. She didn’t want to bring this up, but she thought it was a matter of safety. [[I told her just where she could get off.->K20.1]] [[I tried to control my anger.->K20.2]]

What fucking business was it of hers how you kept your hair? She was always showing off her bushy armpits with those sleeveless tops in summer, and you didn’t complain even though it looked fucking gross. If she had a problem with your hair, then she could go fuck herself. You told her all that, and plenty more about how typical it was for her to frame this bullshit as a matter of “safety,” delicate, pathetic little flower that she was. [[It didn’t go over well.->K21]]

You told her that all due respect, but your own hair was your own business, and it shouldn’t be a problem for anyone else when you were working from home anyway. You kept a damper on things. Teeth might have been a little gritted, sure. Voice was slightly tense. [[But it wasn’t like I was actually shouting.->K20.2.2]]

Your manager broke in to say that he was canceling the rest of the call while people sorted their feelings out. A couple minutes after it ended, you got booted from all the Slack groups. Within half an hour, there was a call from HR. Two of them in different windows and your boss on a third. [[The firing was no surprise.->K22]]

For a while now, you’d known how special the hair made you, how far it put you outside the pettiness of ordinary humanity. But despite all that, you still did everything they asked of you. You joined the calls and wrote the reports and drafted the tweets. And what did they give you in return for the years you gave them? [[A kick to the curb.->K23]]

Your funds could only last you so long. Your experiments had cost you, rent cost you, just being alive in New York City cost you. And you knew you’d have a hell of a time finding some other job. You had to let it all out somehow, this pent up aggression. The job, the home, these things were all cages, trapping you inside of them. You needed to learn from the hairs. [[Fuck the job. I set out into the night, finally free.->K24]] [[This was Mackenzie’s fault. I had to settle things with her.->P1]]

You didn't go on gentle little late evening walks anymore. Oh no, you’d realized how pointless those were. You were denying what you really wanted to do. That thrill you got when you passed someone late at night and they shied away in fear? That wasn’t incidental. That was the point. You had no job, no ties, soon enough no money. There was nothing to hold you back. You needed food, energy, excitement, however you could get it. [[And I would get it.->K25]]

(unless: (visited: "K25.2"))[[[Robbing stores.->K25.2]]] (unless: (visited: "K25.3"))[[[Getting in fights.->K25.3]]] (unless: (visited: "K25.4"))[[[Eating pets.->K25.4]]] [[I enjoyed all of it.->K26]]

It wound its way around you, tangled together like a suit of armor, trailed behind you onto the ground, so thick and luscious you no longer knew where your body ended and your hair began. [[To the outside world, I //was// the hair.->K28]]

All you needed to do was wait until a quiet moment and burst in through the door. You’d savage the night clerks, leaping counters before they could even clock what you were, ripping the cash out of their registers, making off with everything you could grab from their sandwich stations, whatever you wanted in your hands. [[I could feel the thrill in my follicles.->K25]]

Some jackass out on the streets at 1 am, looking at you and asking “what the fuck?” as you passed, and that would be enough, hands flying, fists in his face, the bigger the guy the better, the more surprised he’d be. There were no rules to this, none of that martial arts shit you’d swallowed before. There was only pure animal aggression, your hairs showing you the way and pushing you on, the testosterone surging through your body. No ordinary person could withstand that. It was proof of what you’d already learned. [[I was superior.->K25]]

It started with a man walking his pomeranian. He was pretty hefty – the guy, not the pomeranian – but he still started running the moment he saw you. The dog was apparently too stupid or too trusting to run after him. It just stood there on the sidewalk, looking up at you with its open mouth and lolling tongue and tiny bright little black eyes gleaming. [[I was so hungry.->K25.4.2]]

It wasn’t that you were cast out of society. You didn’t need society. The hairs had guided you to a path you didn’t know you’d wanted all along. In the days you slept, in the nights you wandered. [[And through it all, the hair kept growing.->K27]]

You always were now. The hairs needed more nutrients to grow, always more. No matter how much you ate, how full you felt, the hunger didn’t go away, there was always that need inside of you, pushing its way out into the world. [[I ate it right there on the street.->K25.4.3]]

It stopped crying out after your third bite, falling limp in your hands. Your beard caught the blood, caught whatever bits of meat fell from your mouth. You felt, if not exactly sated, at least satisfied. Something about the raw meat, the blood pouring into your mouth: this was how man was always meant to eat. Pure, elemental. [[There were more after that.->K25]]

You were starting to get a reputation, although you’d only discovered this by accident. One night stalking through the streets you’d come upon a couple and heard one of them exclaim: “Holy shit, it’s the werewolf!” [[I didn't linger on it.->K29.1]] [[I couldn't stop thinking about it.->K29.2]]

Until a couple nights later, bursting into a Bodega off Nostrand to run out with whatever you could grab, you saw yourself on the front page of the Daily News, sitting right there on the counter. [[I snatched the paper.->K29.1.2]]

You were famous. Or you might be. They called you //the// werewolf, not //a// werewolf. When you returned home, you opened up your computer and ran a Google search for “werewolf” and “Brooklyn.” You realized you hadn’t been online in ages, something that would have been unthinkable until pretty recently. [[The first result was a Daily News article.->K29.2.2]]

THE BEAST OF BROOKLYN Residents say: “Watch out for werewolf!” There was no photo, just a big “artist’s rendition” that looked nothing like you. Still, it gave you a thrill to see. You’d won yourself recognition, just like you’d always deserved. [[There was more.->K29.1.3]]

Pages of Google results about you. Threads on Reddit, jokes on Twitter, more bullshit news stories. For once, there was something worth looking at on your phone again. The Beast of Brooklyn. The werewolf. That was you, alright. One wild animal, like nothing else on this earth. [[But there was a downside.->K30]]

After a few more nights, the cops came knocking. Someone must have seen you coming in or out of the apartment and put two and two together. Without making a sound, you peered at the cops through your peephole. There were two of them, a man and a woman. They looked bored. The man knocked again. Elemental feelings rose inside of you. [[Fight.->K31.1]] [[Flight.->K31.2]]

You waited until he was about to knock once more, then swung the door open. Both the cops froze, stunned either by the sudden movement or your appearance. You threw the policeman to the floor. The woman reached for something. Gun, radio, taser, you didn’t know what. She didn’t have time to get it. You slammed her back against the wall and wrenched her hand away from her side. You felt the bones crack under your grip. [[It was time to go.->K31.1.2]] [[I hit them again and again.->K31.1.3]]

You stepped back from the door and moved toward the window. This was the smarter choice, you thought. If you moved fast, you could get away. You slid open the window, stepped out onto the fire escape, and let the latch fall on the ladder. You scrambled down to the street and started running. [[I ran on.->K31.2.2]]

You threw her to the ground and dashed down the hall. You heard a shout behind you, a crack, maybe a gunshot, no, it must have been a gunshot, but it didn’t matter, it hadn’t hit you, and you were barreling away now. You ran down the stairs and out into the cool air. You began to run, putting as much distance as you could between you and the cops who’d be coming after you. [[I ran on.->K32]]

First the woman, slamming her into the wall, then as you heard the man start to move again you turned to him, beating at him, grinding him into the hallway floor until he stopped. Were they dead? You didn’t wait to find out, heading briskly away and down the stairs, before anyone else came out of their apartment. There was no going back now. You left the building, out into the cold air. You began to run, putting as much distance as you could between you and what you'd left behind. [[I ran on.->K32]]

You carried yourself through the streets, plunging forward until you were far away. You felt energized, wild, like you could run all night. [[But eventually, I’d need somewhere to rest.->K33]]

You carried yourself through the streets, plunging forward until you were hopefully far enough from the cops who would be looking for you now. You felt energized, wild, like you could run all night. [[But eventually, I’d need somewhere to rest.->K33]]

You knew you couldn’t stay outside forever. You needed a place of refuge, somewhere to sleep now that your apartment was off limits. [[There was one place.->K34]]

A big old apartment block near Nostrand, built to look like some kind of red brick castle with turrets and crenellations at the top. It had been gutted in an electrical fire last year. You remembered watching the black smoke rise into the sky from your apartment, hearing the sirens and smelling the char of it for days afterwards. It had never been torn down or fixed up, just left to stand like a half-completed facade, one of its sides blackened and hollow. [[It would be perfect.->K35]]

Breaking in was easy. A wall of flimsy wooden boards painted green, some eternal scaffolding, a barely locked side entrance that came open with a single sharp pull. Inside, it was dark and cool, the lobby decorated like a medieval great hall. From the third story upwards, the floors had burned away. When you stood on the second floor, you could look straight up and see the nighttime sky. [[It was nice.->K36]]

You felt at peace there, in a way you hadn’t for a long time. It was perfect for the one thing you were driven to do now: [[Grow.->K37]]

Severed from your apartment, your job, your old life, you had started thinking of yourself only in terms of the hairs. You existed to grow them, to let them flow, to snake and spread as they wished. You left only to nourish them. But even that became difficult. [[They had grown so much.->K38]]

Your back hurt with the weight of their calcified locks, your feet tangled in their strands, your eyes struggled to see through their matted lashes. Your hearing dulled as they grew through your ears, all sounds becoming a muted roar in your head. Your food had run low. [[Didn’t the hairs know what they were doing?->K39]]

They were impeding their own growth. But there was no way to make them understand that. They grew on regardless. Perhaps you were only their seed. Maybe they’d grow beyond both your consciousness and your corporeal body. [[It was a beautiful thought.->K40]] [[No, I couldn’t accept that.->L1]]

The hairs were not an extension of you. They were not body parts, or offshoots, or physical features. They were you. And you were them. [[We would grow like never before.->K41]]

This body was simply the bed of soil from which you, the true you, every thin, waving strand of you would sprout and bloom. [[I embraced that.->K42]]

What did it matter if your physical body could no longer move? What use did you have of sight, of taste, of touch? What use did you have of thought, when all it had done was bring you angst and resentment and pain? Ultimately, wasn’t it your desire to escape all of that which had brought you here? [[I finally felt at peace.->K44]]

You lay there on the cool stone floor of the faux-medieval lobby. When you opened your eyes and looked up, all you could see were the vague impressions of light that filtered through your lashes and locks. [[All I had to do was grow.->K45]]

Hours, days, weeks, an eternity passed, and felt yourself expand outward. You crept across the floor, up the tile walls, onto the ceiling. You were sure of it, all of you was flowing out of your body and into the hairs. They would grow now, and grow and grow, as much as you could let them. [[It was wondrous.->K46]]

Something new and incredible was being born, something that no longer needed what you had been. You could feel your muscles atrophying, your skin wrinkling, your entire form shrinking, your brain slowing. But in the last depths of your consciousness, there was one thing you were still sure of. [[We would grow on.->K47]]

You and the hairs were one now. The last conscious thought you had was that you, the hairs, would grow on without your old self, a beautiful new being, ready to find its own way in the world. [[The End->END6]]

Thank you for playing. (link: "Return to Start")[(reload:)]

As you contemplated this, killing yourself to feed the hairs, you were struck by a sudden moment of clarity. It was as if their roots had invaded your brain, taking you over. This wasn’t why you’d welcomed them in. This wasn’t what you were meant for. You had to fight back. [[I tried to cut them off.->L2.1]] [[I pulled them out, one by one.->L2.3]]

There were no knives in the gutted building, but you tried pulling the hair against corners of the building and splinters of wood. It wasn’t terribly successful. [[I tried pulling them out, one by one, instead.->L2.3]]

They were so matted together that you could barely locate individual strands. And for the time that it took to yank one from your body, it seemed that another would just grow in. It was a feeble effort. The hairs had you locked within them. [[A cage that kept growing.->L3]]

They wouldn’t stop, no matter how hard you tried. And the more they grew, the more strength they sucked out of you. Soon, you found yourself too weak, too shackled, to leave. [[They spread as I wasted away.->L4]]

Not an opening existed in your body that the hairs didn’t grow out of. Not a single pore, not your mouth, not your anus, not the insides of your eyelids. Everything was hair. It was what you saw, what you smelled, what you felt. [[Only the hair moved.->L5]]

You had collapsed against the smooth tile wall of the faux-medieval lobby, what felt like ages ago but must have only been one or two days before. Since then, you hadn’t gotten up. There was no point. The hair had won. You were merely its vessel. You were sure that from where you sat on the floor, the hair had climbed its way up the walls, branched its way across the floor, expanded further. Locks of it, brambles of it, waves of it, some new organism being born and tasting its first capabilities of life. [[It must have been something to see.->L6]]

But all you could see were dark thrushes of hair, covering everything, burying you inside. The hairs had grown into something strange and powerful and new. In your last moments buried within them, you understood that you were never anything more than a base from which they could spring. You accepted that you had long ago ceased to exist as a person. Only the hairs remained. [[The End->END7]]

Thank you for playing. (link: "Return to Start")[(reload:)]

Her phone number wasn’t the only thing on her resume. You had her address, too. Ridgewood. Queens. Not so far away. Walking distance. So you walked there. Late at night, of course. [[Her house was easy to find.->M5]]

It was a townhouse, only two floors. On her resume, she’d listed her apartment as 2F. The lights there were off. Hopefully, she’d be asleep. At the back of the building was a yard, overgrown with weeds. From there, it was easy enough to climb up to the second floor. You looked inside: a small second bedroom turned into a home office. You’d seen it plenty of times during work calls. You had the right place. [[I checked if the window was unlocked.->M6.1]] [[I broke the window with my elbow.->M6.2]]

The window slid up smoothly, without a catch. Mackenzie should really be more careful. Under your beard, you were smiling as you slipped inside. [[I stopped in the room and listened.->M7]]

You felt it shatter easily with the force of your blow. You looked around behind you, but the noise didn't seem to have drawn any attention. You slipped inside and looked at your elbow. You could see crystals of glass glinting in the light, but they were all stuck in your hairs. You were fine. [[I stopped in the room and listened.->M7]]

There was no sound from the rest of the apartment. You counted down from ten. Still nothing. You crept forward, stepping out of the office into the hall. You were sure the hair on your feet muffled your steps. You felt like an alpha predator, in control, unstoppable. You checked a door to your left. Just the bathroom. Then another door up ahead. You opened it slowly. [[The bedroom.->M8]]

Still pushing the door open as gradually and quietly as you could, you peeked inside. The bed was empty. Moving faster now, you stepped inside and looked around. All empty. Nobody here. [[She must have been out.->M9.1]] [[I checked the rest of the apartment to be sure.->M9.2]]

You turned through the place quickly, seeing if there was anywhere she could hide. [[All the rooms were empty.->M9.1]]

Fine. You could wait in here for as long as you needed. Hide and strike. Show her that her actions have consequences. As you thought about what you’d do to her, your hairs tingled, stiffened, raised with goosebumps all along your skin. You could feel them, each and every one of them, rising through your body, radiating force. They were hungry. [[I couldn't wait to feed them.->M10]] [[No. This… this wasn’t right.->N1]]

It felt so good to let your instincts take control. To not be bottled up any more, not force a fake smile onto your face. To feel your emotions, seize upon your rage, and actually act on them. To fucking do something! Your hair had turned you into a man. [[Now I just needed a place to hide.->M11]]

Somewhere in your head, you could hear a faint voice, telling you that you never would have done this before. But now, all you had was this rage twisting itself around you. You’d lost control of yourself. Of who you were. [[Because I was a fucking loser before.->N2.1]] [[They were taking control.->N2.2]]

You didn’t want to be caught out when Mackenzie returned. You’d find a good place and catch her unawares. There was a large dresser in her bedroom. That would do. [[I crawled inside and shut the doors.->M12]]

You had been. Bald, unfuckable, always frustrated. But at least you could go outside in the daytime, talk to other people. [[I could still fight this.->N3]]

You hadn’t been happy before, but at least you could go outside in the daytime, talk to other people. Now it was as if the hairs had burrowed into your brain, taken over your mind, forcing you into this primitive state. [[I could still fight this.->N3]]

All you had to do was turn around, head back down the hallway, make your way out the window again. You nearly convulsed at the idea, like your body couldn’t stand the thought of it. [[It was too late to run away now.->N4.1]] [[No matter what, I had to get out of here.->N4.2]]

You’d already let the hairs in, let them steer you this far. They’d find some way to destroy you if you tried to back out. You told yourself that again and again: no matter what you might do here, it was the hairs in charge. It would be their fault. [[Now I needed to find a hiding place.->M11]]

You stumbled down the hall. It was as if your brain wanted to think about anything but this, do anything but this. You entered the office and went toward the window. All the hairs in your body felt like they were pulling at you, trying to drag you back inside. Your body felt like it was seizing up. Your throat tightened. [[I couldn’t resist the hairs.->N5.2]] (if:(history: where its name contains "M6.2")'s length >= 1)[[[I fought them with every ounce of my strength.->N5.1]]](if:(history: where its name contains "M6.1")'s length >= 1)[[[I fought them with every ounce of my strength.->N5.3]]]

You’d given them too much control. This couldn’t continue any longer, no matter how hard it was. You wrenched yourself through the broken window. The hairs on your leg caught on jagged remains of glass in the frame. You tumbled down, knocking something over, bouncing against the hard turf of the backyard. [[I gasped for breath.->N6]]

If you kept fighting them, they would kill you. You were sure of it. You stepped back, turned around. And immediately, you felt yourself lighten, felt everything get easier. You’d already let the hairs in, let them steer you this far. You couldn’t get out of it now. The hairs were in charge. You told yourself that again and again: no matter what you might do here, it was the hairs in charge. It would be their fault. [[I needed to find a hiding place.->M11]]

And the breath caught in your throat. Your mouth felt even drier. Like more hairs were growing in by the second, choking you off. Your arm hurt. Horribly. Might have been broken. You gasped again. Less air than you wanted. Less than you needed. [[I pushed myself up.->N7]]

Only with your remaining good arm. It took you longer than you wanted. Once you were on your feet, you found it harder to stay there. You stumbled forward. One step, two, three, four, and you were back down, on your knees. Your arm still hurt so much. You still weren’t drawing enough breath. The grass was taller here, at the edge of the yard. [[Like hairs sprouting up from the earth.->N8]]

Your hairs mingled with the tall grass around you. You imagined them all waving in the wind, weaving together, nearly indistinguishable. You were sure your hair would continue growing out of your body for as long as it could, even after you died. You felt light-headed. [[I’d lost my fight.->N9]]

Couldn’t stay relevant, couldn’t stay handsome, couldn’t stay alive. Couldn’t beat the hairs that grew out of your own body. They’d won, all of them. You knew someone would find you in the backyard soon enough, lying here dead under a broken window. But, you wondered, would it be your body they’d find? Or only the hair? [[The End->END8]]

Thank you for playing. (link: "Return to Start")[(reload:)]

It was cozy inside. Mackenzie must have used a pretty nice detergent, because the clothes smelled good. You leaned back against some dresses and a hanging pair of overalls and began to wait. [[I closed my eyes.->M13.1]] [[I stayed alert.->M13.2]]

A door banging. Voices. You jolted awake with a snort. Where were you? Right. Mackenzie’s house. You weren’t sure what time it was. You had to hope you hadn’t alerted her. But why were there multiple voices? [[Someone was with her.->M14]]

It was boring, but you kept your eyes open, kept listening for any sound, ready at any moment to spring out. You waited for a long time. And then you heard it. A door banging. Voices. Multiple voices. [[Someone was with her.->M14]]

The sounds grew louder. She was talking to someone. Sounded a little drunk, flirtatious. And in response, a male voice. She definitely wasn’t alone. And it was a man. This made things more complicated. The voices were getting louder and clearer. They must have been in the bedroom now. [[I leapt out.->M15]] [[I held my breath and waited.->O1]]

You threw the doors open and jumped out with a yell. Mackenzie was there in the doorway, reaching to turn on the light. Behind her was the guy. Shorter than you expected, actually. Kind of scrawny. You could take him. Mackenzie shrieked and ducked down at the sight of you. “What the fuck?” the guy said. [[I charged at him.->M16.1]] [[I dashed away.->M16.2]]

You went past Mackenzie and backhanded him across the face. He fell to the floor, and you were ready to hit him again when you felt something pulling at your hair. You turned around. It was Mackenzie. You saw the recognition in her eyes and snarled at her, feeling ready to rip her throat out, but then felt someone kick your side. The guy had gotten up. You’d make him regret this. You turned back to him, but now he was running down the hallway. You felt a clump of hair come off as you pulled away from Mackenzie. [[I’d make them both pay.->M17]]

“Call the police while I distract it!” The guy yelled over to Mackenzie. Your first thought was that you weren’t an “it”, you were a man – more of a man than he was. But you had no time to worry about that. [[I ran after the boy.->M18.1]] [[I turned back for Mackenzie.->M18.2]]

You pounded down the hallway after him. He got to the kitchen before you did, and as you entered, he turned around with a knife, waving it in your face. He slashed it toward you and you stepped back into the hallway. He followed after, stabbing it toward you, until you were right back by the bedroom. You’d have to charge him. [[I made my move.->M18.1.2]]

You swatted it out of his hand, heard him shout, heard the thunk as it bounced off the wall and landed on the floor. You felt pain too, it must have cut your hand but it didn’t matter. You could handle that. Except… [[There was something else.->M19.1]]

She was trembling as she tried to dial 911. You smashed the phone out of her hand and felt a certain pleasure ripple through you as she whimpered in fear. You smacked her down to the ground and were ready to hit her again when you felt a sharp pain at the back of your neck. You turned around. The guy was standing there with a kitchen knife in his hand. There was blood dripping from it. Your blood. If it hadn’t been for your hairs, you might have been dead. He swung at you. You took a step back. [[There was something else.->M19]]

You smelled burning. Smoke. Was there a fire somewhere? You couldn’t see it. You turned around quickly, trying not to give the guy an opportunity to hack at you again. Mackenzie had gotten up. She was bleeding from the nose. There was a can of hairspray in her hand. A lighter in the other. [[My head felt hot.->M20]]

You reached up to touch it. It was on fire. And the flames were spreading fast. Mackenzie pointed the hairspray at you again. [[I moved to stop her.->M22]]

A growl escaped your throat as you jumped toward her. She clicked the lighter and sprayed the can right into your face. You threw up your arm and swatted the hairspray away. But even as you did that, you felt another sharp pain in your back. The boyfriend, or whoever he was, hadn’t stopped either.(if:(history: where its name contains "M18.1.2")'s length >= 1)[ He’d found the knife and was slashing it at you again.] [[I turned toward him.->M23.1]] [[I kept my focus on Mackenzie.->M23.2]]

As you did, he swiped the knife at you, and it raked the side of your face. You could see cut hairs floating up with it. Drops of blood too. You hit out at him and heard that familiar dreadful tssss behind you. You felt your back burn. Your head. Everywhere. How high were the flames burning? No matter which way you turned, you’d be hit from the other. You had to find a way out. [[The bedroom window.->M24]]

It was the only route available for you. You moved for it as quickly as you could, bleeding and smoking as you rushed through the bedroom. You could jump through, land in the backyard, and get away, hopefully. Roll on the ground until the fire went out, find a safe place, get home. [[I just had to get to the window.->M25]]

You tried to get at her before she could pick the hairspray up, but you felt an even deeper stabbing pain in your back. Now Mackenzie was back up with her makeshift flamethrower. Even as you were still burning, you felt another stabbing pain from behind you. No matter which way you turned, you’d be hit from the other. You had to find a way out. [[The bedroom window.->M24]]

And you did, more or less. As you moved for the window, your leg hairs caught at the edge of Mackenzie’s bed. You toppled forward, right toward the window you’d been planning to leap out of. You still made it out, in a way. [[Just not the right way.->M26]]

You fell forward, smashing through the glass and tumbling into the yard below. You didn’t land directly on your neck. But it was close enough. [[It hurt.->M27]]

It hurt worse than anything else you’d felt so far. All that remained was the piercing feeling that shot through your entire spine. Your vision swam. At least you weren’t dead yet, you thought. You’d survived the fall. You weren’t sure you could move, but you were still thinking. You ran through your senses. Your vision was unfocused, but you could still see. You clearly felt pain. There was a sharp metallic taste in your mouth. Your ears were ringing. And you could still smell… something. Something familiar. [[Burning.->M28]]

That was it. The scent of your own burning hair. The fire was still burning. You were already on the ground. If only you could roll over, smother the flames. But you couldn’t move, not at all. The smoke filled your nostrils. Gradually, you thought you could hear the flames, see them in the corner of your vision, feel the heat of them start to compete with the shooting pain of whatever crucial part of you broke in the fall. [[I was burning up.->M29]]

You realized this was how you were going to die. Fuck it, then. There was something satisfying about it. Going out in a literal blaze. Fuck it, fuck it, fuck it. [[Fuck all of it.->M30]]

The flames were getting more intense. The heat was so strong it had surpassed the pain in your spine. You imagined yourself burning up endlessly, one giant pile of kindling, the fire catching on to the grass, the house, the entire city, all burned up with your rage and frustration. And you, you would have to burn first. You’d turned yourself into a living torch, built yourself a funeral pyre from your own hairs. [[I was alight.->M31]]

Your entire body was consumed by the kindling you’d grown. For a moment, everything seemed blindingly bright. And then it went dark. As it did, you were struck by the terrible realization that the flames would burn away all your hair. Scoured by circumstance, you were going to leave a bald corpse behind after all. [[The End->END9]]

Thank you for playing. (link: "Return to Start")[(reload:)]

You hurdled over Mackenzie and made for the doorway. You just needed to get past the guy, then you could escape, strike again some other time. But he didn’t move out of the way. Running at full speed, you barreled into him and the two of you fell to the floor. You pushed yourself up as quickly as you could. Just as you were about to keep going, you felt something pulling at your hair. You turned around. [[It was Mackenzie.->M16.2.2]]

You saw the recognition in her eyes and snarled at her, ready to attack, but then felt someone kick your side. The guy had gotten up. You realized he was the more dangerous threat. You'd make him regret this. You turned back to him, but now he was running down the hallway. You felt a clump of hair come off as you pulled away from Mackenzie. [[I’d make them both pay.->M17]]

You could hear them giggling, kissing, getting undressed. He kept asking her at every step of the way if this was okay, if that was okay, totally overdoing the sensitive young man shit. You heard Mackenzie say that normally it wasn’t so cold in here, and the guy asked if she left a window open, he thought he could hear wind. He offered to go check. Shit. The window. [[I gasped.->O2]]

You held your mouth, but it was too late now. Had they heard it? “What was that?” Yes, they’d heard it. [[The doors opened.->O3]]

“What the fuck?” Mackenzie’s lover was standing in front of you. Still crouched down in the wardrobe, you stared up at him, and you felt your heartbeat rise as your instincts kicked in. [[Fight.->O4.1]] [[Flight.->O5]]

Even from below, he wasn’t that big. Around Mackenzie’s age. A full head of curly hair. But kind of short, actually. Scrawny. You didn’t expect him here, but you could take him easily. You’d just be leaving two bodies behind instead of one. [[I jumped out at him.->O4.1.2]]

The guy wasn’t that big. Kind of scrawny, actually. Shorter than you’d expected. But this was more trouble than you’d planned for. The smart thing to do was to get out of here. [[I leapt out of the wardrobe.->O6]]

You rocketed into his stomach headfirst, pushing him back past Mackenzie who stood there shrieking by the bed. You toppled to the ground with him and smacked him across the face, then got up while he was still down. You began to stomp at him when you felt something pulling at your hair. You turned around. [[It was Mackenzie.->O4.1.3]]

You saw the recognition in her eyes and snarled, ready to attack, but then felt someone kick your side. The guy had gotten up. You'd make him regret this. You turned back to him, but now he was running down the hallway. You felt a clump of hair come off as you pulled away from Mackenzie. [[I'd make them both pay.->M17]]

The guy froze in surprise, fell back as you pushed right up past him, only for you to end up nearly colliding with Mackenzie. You stopped short. For a brief moment you two were face to face, and then you were off, through the door, around the corner, to the office, back out the window, falling in the wind, a vertiginous sensation and then the impact of the ground under your feet, you stumbled in the tall weeds of the backyard, recovered and began to run on, over the fence and away as you heard shouts somewhere back above and behind you. [[I kept running.->O7]]

You turned one block after another, that familiar feeling of being let loose into the night carrying you forward and away, before the cops could arrive. You kept going until you hit an industrial stretch, found a back area, caught your breath. [[I began to think.->O8]]

Mackenzie had recognized you. Of course she had. You’d seen it on her face. She must have called the cops by now, and she'd tell them who you were. They’d almost certainly put it together with the whole Beast of Brooklyn thing. Which meant you couldn’t go back home. You needed to find someplace else to take refuge now. [[There was one place.->O9]]

You did it. You actually did it. You poured yourself a glass of bourbon — the nice stuff — and sat down on the couch, feeling supremely satisfied. You were a fucking genius. You did it. It fucking worked. [[I opened up my laptop.->C13.1]] [[I pulled out my phone.->C13.1]] [[I stepped outside, head held high.->C13.2]]

That's right. You’d regrown what was supposed to be forever lost. Maybe in the future, they’d see you as a pioneer, the first step in restoring what every aging man wished he still had. Not as a lone man, choking to death in his bathroom. Not as some bald loser, no longer able to keep current with the thread of society. You’d managed to do the incredible, you knew that. [[I was at peace with it.->I14.1.3]]

You’d given them too much control. This couldn’t continue any longer, no matter how hard it was. You slipped through the window, tried to ease yourself down into the yard and lost your grip, landed a bit too hard, pushed yourself up. [[I gasped for breath.->N10]]

The breath caught in your throat. Your mouth felt even drier. Like more hairs were growing in by the second, choking you off. You stumbled off, hurdled a fence into the next yard. You took another breath as you did, getting less air than you wanted. Less air than you needed. [[I kept going.->N11]]

You summited another fence, dropped into another yard, kept going. You were so close to getting away, but it was getting harder and harder to move. Each step was slower than the last. You stumbled forward. One step, two, three, four, and you were down on your knees. You still weren’t drawing enough breath. [[I fell into the grass.->N12]]

Your hairs mingled with the grass around you. You imagined them all waving in the wind, weaving together, nearly indistinguishable. You were sure your hair would continue growing out of your body for as long as it could, even after you died. You felt light-headed. [[I’d lost my fight.->N13]]

Couldn’t stay relevant, couldn’t stay handsome, couldn’t stay alive. Couldn’t beat the hairs that grew out of your own body. They’d won, all of them. You knew someone would find you lying dead in some stranger's yard soon enough. But, you wondered, would it be your body they’d find? Or only the hair? [[The End->END8]]

You did! But here’s what you needed to learn the hard way: there’s no such thing as winning a street fight. You can hurt the other guy more, but once you’re rolling around, grunting and screaming, with a stranger in front of your date, you’re not exactly boyfriend material. When you both got off at the next stop, she wouldn’t look at you. [[I tried to laugh it off.->A7.1]] [[I gave a sincere apology.->A7.2]]

Still, even that was enough for Mackenzie to claim that you were “deploying an aggressive tone” and “making her feel unsafe.” When she said that, you lost it, snapping back that apparently everything made her feel unsafe, just the sight of hair made her feel unsafe, so you could have claimed that you felt unsafe every time she wore a sleeveless top and flashed her gross bushy armpit hair, but you didn’t because you were a fucking adult. [[It didn’t go over well.->K21]]

The hairs grew in more and more, faster and faster. You’d never given off “big hairy guy” vibes before, but the hair filled in a lot of body volume for you.(if:(history: where its name contains "C19.2")'s length >= 1)[ Your face was no longer clean shaven; the stubble just grew in too fast.](if:(history: where its name contains "C19.3")'s length >= 1)[ Your mustache had slowly been joined by a full beard as shaving the rest of your face became too annoying.] You saw people look at you differently, step out of your way more. [[It felt good. I embraced the hair.->K5]]

No, no she was cool. Maybe a little prissy and over-confident sometimes, but it seemed like everyone her age was, and it was kind of endearing, honestly. She could still learn a lot from you. After all, you were the guy who took brand vulgarity to the next level with that “fuck them hoes” WAP tweet for Hamburger Helper; it wasn’t like Mackenzie ever had a think piece written about her work in Vulture. [[But what if I’d lost my touch?->B7.1]] [[If only they’d realize that at the agency.->B7.2]] [[Maybe I should just ask her out.->B7.3]]

She had said you guys should get coffee sometime, but... you didn’t know. It would probably be weird. Or you’d get in trouble at work. God, this was pathetic. A few years ago you would have just gone for it. Now, you didn’t have the balls to do anything. You really needed something to help get your confidence back. [[Like my hair.->B8]]

Her and her delicate little feelings, her crying in meetings, her demands for comfort and ease when work was supposed to be struggle and triumph. You couldn’t believe that you used to like her. [[I didn’t //like// like her.->P2.1]] [[And she betrayed me.->P2.2]]

The call connected. (after:2s)[You listened to it ring.] (after:4s)[It kept ringing.] (after:6s)[And then, just when you thought she wouldn’t pick up:] (after:9.5s)[[[“Hello?”->P5]] ]

You waited a moment, surprised that she actually answered, and then told her who it was. There was a long pause before you heard her on the other end: “What do you want?” She sounded nervous. [[“Justice.”->P6.3]] [[“Why did you do that to me?”->P6.1]] [[“I thought you liked me.”->P6.2]]

“Do what?” She seemed genuinely confused. “Deliberately get me fired.” “But... I didn’t... I just, we were all worried about you so I raised the issue in the meeting and you went, like, nuts on me.” [[“And you didn’t do it because you were threatened by me?” I asked.->P7.1]] [[“Just admit you felt threatened by me,” I snarled.->P7.1]]

“Well, yeah, I mean of course I don’t dislike you or anything.” She sighed. “We just thought you needed help. That’s all.” [[“You really didn’t have any stronger feelings for me?” I asked.->P7.2]] [[“Right,” I said, “I’m sure you didn’t feel threatened by me or anything.”->P7.1]]

“Justice for what?” She seemed genuinely confused. “For plotting to get me fired.” “But... I didn’t... I just, we were all worried about you so I raised the issue in the meeting and you went, like, nuts on me.” [[“And you didn’t do it because you were threatened by me?” I asked.->P7.1]] [[“Just admit you felt threatened by me,” I snarled.->P7.1]]

You realized you still had her resume buried somewhere on your laptop, back from when she’d applied for the job. Soon enough, you found it. With her phone number in the top left corner. [[I dialed the number.->P4]]

Right, right. You found her attractive, sure, but it wasn’t like you were in love with her or anything. Still, it hurt that she was the one who’d betrayed you. Really, she must have felt threatened. You’d regained your hair, your confidence. Even through a screen, she could sense that assertiveness, probably resented the feelings it gave her, and turned on you because of it. [[I decided to have it out with her.->P3]]

It hurt that she was the one who did it. You really thought there’d been something between you. Really, she must have felt threatened. You’d regained your hair, your confidence. Even through a screen, she could sense that assertiveness, probably resented the feelings it gave her, and turned on you because of it. [[I decided to have it out with her.->P3]]

“Threatened by you?” There was a little giggle now, incredulous. “Threatened how?” [[“Sexually.”->P8.1]] [[“Intellectually.”->P8.2]] [[“Professionally.”->P8.5]]

You heard her let out a quick “Oh God.” Something deep inside you twisted in on itself. Before you could say anything, she’d switched to the kind of placating, patronizing voice you’d heard plenty of times before: “Look, you’re a nice guy and I liked working with you, I really did. But I just don’t — didn’t — see you that way.” [[“No. No, I know you were flirting with me before.”->P8.3]] [[Mortified, I hung up as quickly as I could.->P8.4]]

At least, that’s what you meant to say, that she was threatened by you intellectually. But that’s not what came out of your mouth. [[Instead, you said what you’d actually been thinking.->P8.2.1]]

It was what you thought, after all. There’d been some flirtation there, then you’d started acting like a proper man and it made her scared. You didn't need to be Freud to see what was under that surface. Still, it felt shocking for you to actually say so aloud. It must have been the hair, giving you the balls to express your true thoughts. It felt simultaneously gratifying and terrifying to be so honest. [[The only problem was her response.->P9]]

A snort. “Please don’t call me again.” And then she hung up on you. [[The humiliation was unbearable.->P10.1]]

You just couldn’t take this conversation anymore. Better to end it now, you thought. [[The humiliation was unbearable.->P10.2]]

At least, that’s what you meant to say, that she was threatened by you on a professional level. But that’s not what came out of your mouth. [[Instead, you said what you’d actually been thinking.->P8.2.1]]

Mackenzie let out a single loud laugh. A bark, really. One simple, short contemptuous sound that made something deep inside of you twist in on itself. “Have you looked in a mirror lately?” she asked. Before you could reply, she continued: “Please don’t call me again.” And then she hung up on you. [[The humiliation was unbearable.->P10.1]]

First she cost you your job, then she laughed at you for it. Thinking it over, you realized how two-faced she’d been. Sometimes she played nice, and sometimes it was all eyerolls during brainstorming sessions and side comments about cishet men. It must have all been on purpose, a way to confuse you and get you out of the way. Pure evil shit. She was probably still laughing about it now. [[I’d show her.->M4]]

You knew you weren’t crazy. There’d been //something// there before. And yet she’d humiliated you mercilessly for acknowledging it. The more you thought about it, the more you realized how two-faced she’d been. Sometimes she played nice, and sometimes it was all eyerolls during brainstorming sessions and side comments about cishet men. It must have all been on purpose, a way to confuse you and get you out of the way. Pure evil shit. She was probably still laughing about it now. [[I’d show her.->M4]]

The moment the words were out of your mouth, you had a sudden vertiginous feeling, like you’d just stumbled off a very high ledge. [[Her response only made things worse.->P9]]

You had been considering it, but then you met a guy, a regular at your neighborhood bar who’d gotten a transplant that went wrong. He’d gone all the way to Turkey and come back with a case of scalp necrosis. After he showed you the patches of dead, blackened skin where his hair was supposed to be, it had put you off the idea as anything but an absolute last resort. [[I figured there had to be a better way.->B3.3.1]]

There really did, but so far you’d only tried the standard. The expected. So what else could you expect? The same shit every other idiot got. You’re a smart person, you thought. You’re not every other idiot. You graduated from a good school, got good grades. You’ve got a good, high-earning job. You should be able to figure this out, too. [[Although work hadn’t been going too great lately.->B4]]

Which was that Mackenzie was threatened by you //sexually//. [[Oh God. Oh God.->P8.2.2]]

You smelled burning. Smoke. Was there a fire somewhere? You couldn’t see it. You turned around. Mackenzie was standing behind you. There was a can of hairspray in her hand. A lighter in the other. [[My head felt hot.->M20]]