WARNING - This Choose Your Own Adventure story is unfinished! You can still play/read it, but there are a few choices you won't be able to make. It's 11:05 right now and I just wanted to complete the bare minimum for the weekly before going to bed xD
I may work on this and finish it up later <3

Directions: Read the first post, then make a choice by clicking on the blue letters. You'll be immediately redirected to the next part of the story!

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You're still standing at the coffee shop counter, waiting for your drink. It's been quite a while since you ordered. The barista went into the back of the store once she wrote down your request, presumably to prepare it, but now you're not so sure.
It's a lazy Tuesday morning in August, and you'd decided to take a walk around a part of town you don't usually frequent. This cafe caught your eye. You're starting to question the quality of the service, however, and your legs are getting tired from standing. You make your way over to the other side of the shop with a sigh, and sit down in a booth. The chair you selected faces in towards the rest of the shop, and you take the opportunity to look around.
Along the perimeter of the room, stretching around just about three-quarters of the way, are dozens of tables. Some have booths like the one you're in, some have short stools, and there are even a couple of high-back armchairs in the mix. The seating area on the right wall is interrupted about halfway through by a spectacularly clean glass door, advertising the words “iF-iW eerF” from the inside. Seating continues again on the other side of the door with a half-circle booth and a rack of newspapers and magazines. Outlets are stationed at intervals along the bottom of the booth. On the right-hand side of the shop is a cabinet filled with coffee mugs and teacups, most likely for decoration only, and next to them is the door to the back of the shop where the barista disappeared. Framed images of the shop owner, smiling customers, and the “killer” breakfast sandwiches that are served here are scattered across the walls. The counter you were standing at before appeared to have a pastry case all the way around the bottom, but you see now that it cuts off at a sharp angle on the left, continuing back into the wall as plain wood. There's no kitchen equipment of any kind in the front of the shop, which seems a little odd for such a small cafe, but who are you to judge?
The barista still isn't back. You check your watch again, getting irritated. It's been five minutes since the last time you looked at it. Where's your coffee? And what in the world is taking that barista so long in the back?
Seven more minutes pass. The shop is still completely empty.
You've always been a bit of a worrier, so maybe it's just paranoia, but you're starting to get worried. What if something happened to the barista and you need to help her? You get up from your seat and venture over to the door she went through, the only other one in the shop besides the front entrance. It's slightly ajar, and you can easily go through just by pushing it open.

Do you:
a) Open the door and look for the barista,
or…
b) Go back to your seat and wait it out?

Going into the back would be your best bet. How would you feel later if you didn't do anything to help the poor girl, and she's really in danger? You slowly push open the door, wishing with all your might that nothing is about to jump out and scare you. Or worse.
Nothing happens. The room seems empty.
“Hello?” you shout after a few seconds, once you're sure you're not in immediate danger.
There's no answer. The barista doesn't appear to be in the room, but you should probably take a closer look.
The back of the coffee shop does, indeed, contain plenty of equipment for cooking and preparing drinks, including a rack of knives, a giant oven, two sinks, a counter loaded with cups and to-go containers, and four large coffee makers over in the corner. One of them has a cup underneath its spout, but there's no steam rising off the top. The coffee is nearly cooled. You venture closer to the coffee maker and look inside the cup, then bring it up to your face, sniff it, and give it a tentative sip. Black coffee, what you ordered. Purely out of curiosity, you go over to the oven and open it. Sure enough, what looks to be a bagel sandwich lies within, completely burnt to a crisp. The temperature dial reads 350. Unlike the coffee maker, which stopped on its own, the oven never turned off. You twist the knob to shut it.
Stepping away from the stove, you stop and try to process the thoughts rushing through your head. You guess it had to have been about 15 minutes between the time the barista went into the back of the shop and now. If it took the barista a minute to get the sandwich into the oven (they're all pre-made in the morning, you know this from having worked in a cafe like this yourself in high school), and the oven was all the way on 350, and the barista never got a chance to turn off the oven before your food burned, it means that she left the room quite a while ago.
Or was taken from it, you think with a shudder.
You spend the next few minutes wandering around the back, but find nothing.
Suddenly you hear a creak and then a click. You spin around, fists at the ready, but nothing else comes. It takes you a moment to realize what just happened before you notice that the door you came through is closed. Must have been a draft, you think, and walk over to the door to open it again.
You twist the knob once and it doesn't budge.
In desperation, you twist in the other direction. Nothing happens.
Someone locked you in. But where are they now?
You feel your heart start beating faster, and take a few deep breaths. You could be overcomplicating the entire situation. Maybe the barista somehow got past you and shut the door on her way out. You could bang on the door and she would probably come open it. However, if it wasn't the barista who locked you in, the person outside could be dangerous, or they could still be in the room, and you'd need to get out as fast as possible. There must be another exit here somewhere…

Do you:
a) Shout for help,
or…
b) Look for another exit?

You sigh and shake your head, stepping away from the door. You really are just being paranoid. Maybe the barista had an important phone call or needed to catch up on a whole bunch of call-in lunch orders, but either way, it's none of your business. Besides, you're not an employee, and you shouldn't be wandering around a store you don't work in. If the barista is completely fine, and she or another worker finds you back there just looking around, you could get in trouble. You might lose your money, and your coffee. You head back to your booth instead, grabbing the morning's newspaper from the rack by the front door. You sit down and start reading, and it isn't long before the barista comes back again. A small part of you is grateful when she walks through the door, and you realize that you really didn't think she was going to return.
The barista holding what you think is your drink, as well as multiple paper bags on a tray, all of which are letting off an aroma that immediately makes your mouth water. You were right, she must have been prepping other orders besides yours. You silently laugh to yourself. It's a struggle to make a ham sandwich for your own lunch every day, and here's this poor barista having to make fifteen. You certainly can't blame her for taking 20 minutes. She places the bags in a longer, deeper tray near the front of the store marked “PICK UP,” and then continues over to your table.
“Here you are, sir! Sorry about the wait.” She smiles and sets the mug down, along with a few small jars labeled “half & half,” “milk,” and “sugar,” in tiny meticulous handwriting.
The barista seems a little uneasy. Suddenly, that feeling of something being off starts to creep back in your head. You wonder if you should have gone into the back room in the first place to see if anything was wrong.
The barista starts to walk back towards the counter, but now might be your chance to redeem yourself. If you ask the barista if she's okay or needs any help now, you would still be doing the right thing. On the other hand, if you're overreacting again, you'd be making a fool of yourself by checking.

Do you:
a) See if the barista's alright,
or…
b) Ignore your thoughts?

You snap out of it.
Just paranoia, remember? you think to yourself. You thank your server and take a sip of your coffee, picking up your newspaper again and flipping to the back few pages. You've always liked to do the crossword while you drink your morning coffee.
But you need something to write with. You dig around in your bag for a pencil or pen, but come up with nothing. Maybe the barista has a spare you can borrow. You get up from your seat once more and start over to the counter.
Before you can take even a few steps, however, you buckle over and clutch your hands to your stomach, vomiting on the floor. You're struggling to breathe, and your insides feel like fire. You're frozen in the middle of the shop, unable to move, think, breathe, or cry out. The barista must know what's happening to you, but why isn't she helping? It takes an immense amount of concentration for you to turn your head and look over to the counter. The barista stands behind it, staring at you. She doesn't make any attempt to call for help or even leave her seat. She just watches you. After about 10 minutes, you stop vomiting and lie on the floor, motionless. The barista carefully walks over and checks your pulse. Low enough. She takes off her apron and leaves the shop through the back door. Your body was found a few days later, but nobody will ever know what happened to you, or the barista. It's like she never existed.

THE END

Every logical part of you says to shout for help. It really isn't much of a question. There obviously isn't anybody in here who's coming after you; something would have happened already. And who knows how long you could be trapped in here if you wait? There's no reason not to take the opportunity to get out of here as quickly as you can. Even though the room is well lit and you know you're in no real danger, the back of the coffee shop just freaks you out a little. Makes you feel uneasy. Sure, you'll get in a bit of trouble when they find out you were back here, but a little bit of humiliation is better than being trapped in the back of a cafe for three hours. You raise a fist and knock on the door, loudly.
There's no answer.
You knock harder.
No answer still.
Using both fists, you pound on the door and shout. “Hello? Is there anyone out there? I'm locked in the back! Hello?!”
Nobody comes to the door.
You try the shouting and pounding for a few minutes before giving up and slumping to the floor, your throat and fists sore. It must have been a gust of wind or something, and the door locked automatically. Maybe you should try something else?
You stop and think about this for a moment. Do you really want to make a big scene trying to get yourself out of here, the locked room in the back of a practically abandoned cafe?
You look around the room, at the uncovered lightbulb you could have sworn you saw flicker a couple of seconds ago, at the clock ticking loudly over the stove. All you can hear is your own breath and the occasional revving of an engine outside, and you shudder at the sheer silence.
You hate this place, that's all there is to it. You don't care if you make a scene.
You take your phone out of your pocket. 911 is the only option, your roommate or your best friend wouldn't be able to break you out.
“911, what's your emergency?”
10 minutes later, the cops pick open the door and let you out. You can feel your face turning red as they stare at you, the barista among them. Turns out she had her earbuds in the whole time, that was why she couldn't hear you. The reason it took her so long was that she dropped a bag full of coffee beans and had to pick them all up off the floor. You really did make a fool of yourself. You thank the police quickly and walk out of the shop.
You never get your coffee, and you never show your face in the cafe again.

THE END

You decide it would be best to look for another exit. Even if there's nothing out to get you back here, finding another way out of the room would also ensure you won't make a fool of yourself trying to escape. Knocking on the door and alerting the barista of your presence would undoubtedly make things worse, if she's there at all.
You start circling the room again. Although you thought you had seen everything the first time you went around, you realize quickly there's a second section of the room you completely missed before. Behind a shelf lined with pots and pans and through an open doorway lies a slightly bigger room than the one you were just in that you think is used for storage. Already opened boxes of paper cups, to-go containers, and bags stamped with the cafe's logo line the walls. It's almost like a maze trying to explore this new area of the shop, and you actually get lost a few times.
After quite a while of wandering, you find an unmarked door with a shiny golden knob. It could be a broom closet or even another section of the shop, but it could also be that second exit you were hoping for. You'll be able to get out this way without any fuss, and even if you're wrong and there's only cleaning equipment behind the door, it wouldn't hurt to check.
You give the knob a quick twist and let it snap back into place. It's unlocked; you can open the door.

Do you:
a) Turn the knob to the right,
or…
b) Turn it to the left?

It'll just be too bad if you make a fool of yourself. You should take the opportunity to help the barista, she certainly looks like she needs it. You shout out to her, and she turns around, her eyes suddenly fearful.
“Hey, are you alright?” You ask. “You seem a little… stressed.”
The barista ignores you and starts walking back towards the counter.
“Hello?” You get up out of your seat and walk over to her. Your legs are much longer than hers and you're making an effort to walk quickly, so you catch up to her in a few steps. You put a hand on her shoulder. “Do you nee-”
“Quiet!” she spins around, whisper-shouting. “They'll hear you and-”
“Hear what?” You ask. *Maybe she's a little off her rocker,* is what you're thinking. “Who are these people?”
“They're not-” the barista starts. She doesn't have a chance to finish, however, because suddenly three giant figures materialize in front of you. They don't look human. The barista starts to visibly shake.
Your heart starts pounding. Are these… aliens? Is this why the barista took so long? Was she abducted?
“Hello, human,” one of the aliens says to you, without moving its mouth. The creatures look extremely similar to humans, and it takes you a while to realize what makes them so unsettling. Then you see it. Their eyes are inverted. The whites are still there, but the pupils are colored and the irises are pitch black.
The alien can tell you're afraid. It speaks again. “Sorry if we frightened you,” it says. “The only problem now is that you've far too much. Even though the female here wasn't sharing our secrets with you, we're still going to have to take you back with us, along with her.” The back alien closest to the barista jabs her in the arm, and she shrinks away. All three aliens take out long, sparkling staffs. The front one, which you can tell now is obviously the leader, bears its teeth, and its mouth is filled with razor-sharp fangs. There's no way these things are taking you with them.
Thoughts race through your brain faster than you can process them, and you freeze for a moment. You have to save yourself and the barista, but how? You could fight the aliens, but it might be difficult to win against them. Instead, could you try to bargain? There are probably plenty of things on Earth and in this coffee shop the creatures could be interested in, more so than they are in you.

Do you:
a) Bargain with the aliens,
or…
b) Fight them?

You twist the knob again, turning it to the right all the way this time and opening the door. You jump back immediately, however, holding in a shout as the barista you've been looking for suddenly falls out of the small broom closet and into your arms. It's evident she had been pushing on the door.
The barista fills you in on everything that's happened to her since she went to get your order. Her name is Lilia, and when she was getting your coffee prepped, she accidentally knocked over a bag of espresso beans. She had to go into the storage room to grab a broom so she could clean up the mess. All the employees have a key to the broom closet in the way back of the store, but the door only opens from the outside. Lilia's phone, she says, is back in the main part of the cafe, and she tells you how grateful she is that you came here to help her. You don't say anything about how you found this door on accident, while looking for a way to avoid your new friend.
Together, you make your way up to the backroom entrance. A key Lilia is wearing around her neck easily opens the door. She mentions in passing that all the doors in the shop lock automatically if they close, and you realize that what you originally thought was a murderer was actually just a gust of wind.
Lilia makes you a new sandwich and warms up your coffee again, then gives you a gift card for $100 (on her, she says it's the least she can do). She promises that you can always find a place here in the cafe any morning you need one, then gives you a hug before you leave the shop with a wave. You've been here for almost an hour, and you need to get going. You head off down the street.
Well, today has been quite the adventure, hasn't it? you think to yourself with a smile, taking a sip of your drink.
And the coffee is absolutely superb. You take another swallow and continue off into the afternoon sun. You can't wait to come back tomorrow.

THE END

You have to fight the aliens. Even if there are things here in the shop that the creatures don't have back on their planet, there's nothing you can pass off as more valuable than yourself and the barista as hostages. You have to give it all you've got, or they'll eat you for sure. Or something like that. Whatever hostile aliens do to humans like you.
The aliens start to advance on you, staffs pointed outwards. The barista is still standing behind them, and you give her a pointed look over their shoulders. She nods, completely understanding, then lets out a shriek and jumps on the back of the lead alien, digging her nails in hard. Screaming, you charge at the alien on your left and tackle it to the floor, knocking the staff out of its hand.
Unfortunately, there are two of you and three of the aliens, and it doesn't help that they're all two feet taller than you. After just a few minutes of what you're ashamed to call “your all,” the aliens subdue both you and the barista. They chuckle at each other as they throw you both into sacks and faze away once more, reappearing with you limp in their arms on their home ship.
You and the barista spend the rest of your life working on the aliens' ship, completing odd jobs for the crewmates whenever necessary. You're slowly starting to pick up their language. The food here is disgusting, but at least with another human on board, things won't be too lonely. Maybe life in space will get better soon.

THE END