[ WP ] You find yourself beside a four-way intersection in the middle of a rural , isolated area with no trace of civilization in sight . A suitcase is handcuffed to your lacerated , bleeding wrist and the only thing in your pockets is a crumpled piece of paper with something scribbled on it

My wrist hurts and the bleeding keeps getting worse. `` *Focus*'' I tell myself as I look around and try to remember where I was. The whole area is foggy. I can ’ t tell what time of the day it is or when I got here. 
 
 My head hurts and I can ’ t think clearly. There is a black suitcase handcuffed to my wrist that ’ s making the pain even worse. I try to open it, but it ’ s locked tight. Whoever put me here wants me to carry this like some sick twisted joke. 
 
 I look through my pocket hoping to find a key or something. The only thing I find is dirty rumpled piece of paper. Something ’ s scribbled in it, but it doesn ’ t make much sense. The first line reads something like- *uyo rae edad. iaign. nawt ot tarst lal vero? * My head hurts too much to make sense of that. 
 
 There are four paths I can take. Somehow all of them seem vaguely familiar…..but also different somehow. I decide to take the north path, let ’ s see where the road takes me. 

