CYOA Hunter shit

>You have been walking along the street for a few days now.
>You haven't eaten properly in a few days.
>You need to get some cash, or a ride.
>Hell, as of late, you've been thinking about stealing a car.
>You keep on walking in solitude when you see a strange sight.
>A motel.
>A motel in the middle of no where.
>Why is this a thing?
>You half walk, half run there.
>Upon getting closer, you see a single car parked there.
>A black 1967 chevy impala.
>it's a sight to behold.
>You almost feel bad for what you're about to do to it.
>racking your brain, you try and remember how to hot wire a car.
>Next you set upon finding the biggest rock in the immediate area.
>You then smash tom the rock through the drivers side window.
>That was loud.
>You don't have long now.
>You set on hot wiring the car.
>You hear a door open, and someone yell "MY CAR!"
>COME ON!...
>The engine turns over.
>You close the door, put it into reverse, and switch to first gear and floor it.
>You hear gunshots, but you're to busy thinking of how much cash you can get for this car.
>That thought is cut off by a 18 wheeler hitting you head on.
>Death was instantaneous.
>Karma is a BITCH
>You jolt up in the back of a car.
>You recall the events of the day.
>The car theft, you getting hit by a big rig.
>You dying.
>Dying.
>So this is heaven, huh?
>Nah, after what you did, you'd probably be sent to hell.
>You open the door of the car and get out.
"Huh. Hell ain't so bad."
>"This isn't hell. It's Equestria."
"Equestria, huh? Wait. Who just said that?"
>You spin around a few times, only seeing you and the impala.
>"Oh, you know me."
"No I don't."
>The voice gasps,"But how do you not know your self?"
"What's that supposed to mean?"
>You can hear the panic in your voice.
>A figure starts to form in front of you.
>It looks to be about 5'9"
>Short, spiked, black hair.
>His skin looked as pale as a ghost.
>One more thing spooked you about him.
>He was the spitting image of you.
"I.. I think I hit my head too hard."
>"Well, you DID die."
"Oh, yeah, thanks for reminding me... us... Whatever."
>This guy is fucking weird.
"So I suppose you also have my name?
>"I do. But you can just call me Phil."
"...Why Phil?"
>"Because I'm going to help you with your problems
>Did he just make a Dr. Phil joke?
>You think he just did.
"Why did you mak-"
>You're cut off when your face is hit by something warm and fuzzy.
>"You, uhhh, got a squirrel on your face..."
"Tha-"
>The squirrel starts clawing at your face.
>You bring you hands up to wing the life out of it, but it quickly runs down your shirt.
>Its claws. HURT.
>"OH GOD THIS FUCKING HURTS."
>It's now in your pants.
>RIGHT ON YOUR DICK.
>You start praying to whatever god there is that it's not about to do what you think it's going to do.
> Thankfully it doesn't.
>Or so you thought.
>Your balls.
>They are IN PAIN.
>You start punching your crotch in an attempt to kill the fucker.
>You miss and instead punch yourself FULL FORCE in the balls.
>You're on your knees, weeping.
>The squirrel crawls out of your pant leg and you can SWEAR you heard it laugh.
>Phil is in a similar state across from you.
>It seems what ever pain is afflicted to you, happens to him.
>"Hey... do us a favor... and never do that again."
>You just nod
>After a good ten minutes of recovery you decide to check out the impala.
>You get up and make your way to the car.
>You try to lean inside the broken window, but hit your face against the window.
>"Didn't you break that?"
"Yesh."
>You feel the window, and see that it's back in one whole peice.
>You shake your head and ignore that.
>You're still alive after getting hit by a big rig.
>A window reforming is more normal than that.
>You open the door and pop the trunk.
>You walk to the back and open it.
>Something catches your eye.
>"Hey, is that a gun?"
>You open the compartment and what you see scares you.
>"Holy shit..."
>You see a fucking ARESNAL in the trunk.
>There are shotguns, pistols, knives, BIGGER knives, A FUCKING HARPOON GUN, and salt.
>"What's with the salt?"
"I don't know. For all I know, they may eat the people they killed."
>You reach for one of the guns.
>"Dude. That's a fucking grenade launcher.
>You pull your hand back.
>You see a small box that looks out of place.
>You grab it and open it up.
>Fake IDs everywhere.
>Fake FBI Badges.
>Fake EVERYTHING.
>You're unsure whether stealing this car was a good idea.
>It was a bad one to begin with, but it might've gotten worse
>You set the box down and slowly close the compartment, then the trunk.
>You have no use for guns, or fake badges.
>Never even fired off a damn gun.
>No idea why you aren't throwing them away.
>You make your way back to the drivers side.
>You open the door, and get in.
>You turn the car on.
>With the key.
>That wasn't there before
>Shit's getting weirder and weirder.
>"If you head straight, I think we will hit a town."
"GAH."
>You forgot about phil for a second.
>You turn to see him sitting in the passenger side, with the seat belt running across his chest.
"How do you know that? I thought you were me."
>"Reasons."
>You set on driving to the "town"