When I started thinking about interactive fiction, I assumed it needed to be like an escape room—filled with maps, puzzles, and objects to find. But as I played around with different IF styles, I realized that wasn’t the only way to make things engaging. I found parser-based fictions frustrating; the constant “game over” screens and tricky commands got old fast. Instead, I was drawn to IFs with linked passages, where you click options to advance the story. This style felt smoother and gave me more room to focus on storytelling, so I decided to use it for my own project.
Picking a story was also a challenge. Most of the IFs I’d seen went for dystopian or dark themes, which didn’t quite fit the tone I was aiming for. I wanted something that felt real and emotional but wasn’t outright bleak. So, I decided to draw on a friend’s experience with a toxic relationship, using it as inspiration. The goal was to show subtle shifts in control and manipulation, making the story more nuanced. I let players customize the story by choosing the pronouns for the protagonist’s partner, allowing them to feel more immersed in the experience. This added a personal touch and let players see their choices reflected in the narrative itself.
In the game, I gave players choices that led to similar outcomes. It’s a bit of an “illusion of choice,” and while that can feel jarring, it fit the story I wanted to tell. The repetition was a way to mirror the protagonist’s lack of control in the relationship, which seemed to work well with the feedback I got. The game ended up longer than I’d planned—about 12,000 words—but expanding it linearly allowed me to build depth without trying to force in replayability.
Watching others play brought out interesting insights. Female playtesters picked up on red flags with Alex, the artist character, right away. This was rewarding because I’d tried to make the shift in Alex’s behavior gradual. Meanwhile, male playtesters interpreted things a bit differently, not spotting the issues until the end of act ii or middle of act iii. One of the most challenging parts was managing Alex’s portrayal so that their abusive behavior crept in gradually, offering players room to interpret shifts in the relationship rather than showing an obvious change. It was amusing to see a different type of fun emerge through the playthroughs, as the most shared emotion was frustration.
Overall, this experience taught me how to balance structure with storytelling, which I can use in future games. Experimenting with branching narratives and mapping techniques gave me new tools for building immersive worlds and character interactions. I can see myself using this approach to create layered, emotionally engaging stories that draw players in while letting them explore different narrative paths.
