Axl's Sleepwalking Misadventures! (You Decide What Happens Next!))
Posted: Sun Apr 12, 2026 2:27 am
This story follows the misadventures of a man named Axl who suffers from serious sleepwalking problems. The goal is to create a fun and humiliating story with the help of you gals and guys. At the end of each part there will be a choice. You decide what happens next. And what trials he will have to overcome. Will you be kind and benevolent guardians of fortune? Or cruel tyrants of fate? I guess we shall see…
All characters are fictional and not based on any real events.
—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Axl woke to a cold, damp, soggy feeling.
Not the gentle, creeping chill of a room left overnight without heat, but something sharper…alive. It pressed against his skin from every direction, damp and insistent, as though the ground itself had decided to claim him.
He didn’t open his eyes at first. His thoughts were slow, tangled, drifting somewhere between dream and waking. There was a faint rustling overhead, the soft whisper of leaves shifting in a morning breeze. Birds called to one another, too many of them. Too loud. He reached for his blankets but found nothing but air.
That was wrong.
Axl’s brow furrowed. His bed didn’t feel like this.
The realization came not as a sudden jolt, but as a gradual, creeping wrongness. The smell reached him next, earthy, green, rich with soil and grass. Not detergent. Not stale apartment air.
His eyes snapped open.
Above him stretched a pale sky, fractured by a lattice of thin branches and trembling leaves. Sunlight filtered through in scattered beams, too bright, too open. For a moment, he simply stared.
Then he sat up.
The world lurched as his body followed, his head swimming as if he’d stood too quickly after a long sleep. His hands pressed into the ground for balance and immediately recoiled.
Grass, Wet grass. Cold, damp, and very, very real.
“No… no, no, no…”
His voice came out hoarse, barely more than a breath. He looked down.
White. That was the first thing he registered. Bright, unmistakable white against the green. His briefs. Nothing else.
Axl froze, his mind stuttering as it tried to reject what his eyes were plainly telling him. He turned slightly, as if the rest of his clothes might be behind him, just out of sight but there was nothing but more grass, bushes, trees, and a few scattered twigs.
A shiver ran violently through him, and this time it wasn’t just the cold.
“No, no, no, no…”
His hands moved instinctively, tugging at the waistband of his briefs as if adjusting them might somehow fix the situation, might rewind things, place him back in his bed, under blankets, where this made sense.
But the fabric was all there was.
Thin. Useless. Exposing far more than it concealed. Axl sucked in a breath and forced himself to look around.
Bushes. Trees. A narrow, worn path cutting through the greenery a short distance away. Beyond that he could just make out the faint suggestion of open space. A field, maybe. Or worse…A park.
The word settled in his stomach like a stone. A city park. His heart began to pound.
“No way…” he whispered, the words trembling out of him. “There’s no way I…”
But there was. Of course there was. The memories didn’t come back cleanly. They never did. Sleepwalking was like that, fragments, impressions, nothing solid enough to hold onto. A vague sense of movement. Of doors opening. Of steps taken without thought.
He’d dealt with it before. Waking up in the kitchen. On the couch. Once, memorably, halfway down his apartment building’s hallway. But this?
Axl wrapped his arms around himself, suddenly aware of just how exposed he was. The morning air brushed against every inch of bare skin, cool and intrusive. Even the slightest movement of the breeze felt exaggerated, as if the world itself were drawing attention to him. He crouched low, instinctively shrinking into the bushes, pulling his knees closer.
Okay…Okay, think.
His breathing came fast at first, shallow and uneven, but he forced it slower. Panic wouldn’t help. Panic would get him seen. And being seen like this…no…that wasn't an option
His gaze flicked again toward the path. As if on cue, a figure passed by. A jogger.
They moved at an easy pace, footsteps steady against the dirt, earbuds in, completely unaware of the half-naked man frozen in the undergrowth just a few yards away.
Axl didn’t breathe. Didn’t move. Didn’t even blink until the jogger disappeared from view. Only then did the air rush back into his lungs in a quiet, shaky gasp.
“…Okay,” he murmured to himself, voice barely audible. “Okay. It’s early. That’s… that’s good.”
Early meant fewer people. Fewer people meant fewer chances to be seen.
He swallowed, wiping a hand over his face. His skin felt too sensitive, too awake. Every brush of grass, every shift of his body reminded him of his situation in the worst possible way.
He glanced down again and immediately regretted it. White stood out. White stood out a lot. Against green. Against brown. Against everything.
“Great,” he muttered bitterly. “Perfect. Couldn’t even be dark, could it?”
Another sound reached him, then distant at first, but growing. Voices. More than one.
Axl’s head snapped up, his body tensing as he strained to listen. Sure enough, through the trees, he could hear them. Casual conversation. Laughter. Closer than he liked. His pulse quickened again. The park was waking up.
Joggers. Dog walkers. Maybe city workers. People who belonged here. People who were dressed.
He pressed himself further into the bushes, ignoring the way twigs poked at his back, the way damp earth clung to his skin.
He needed a plan.
Running blindly wasn’t one. That was how he’d end up out in the open, fully exposed, with nowhere to hide. No…he had to be smart about this.
Wait.
Watch.
Figure out where he was exactly… and how far he’d wandered. Then he’d make a move. A careful one.
Axl exhaled slowly, trying to steady himself as he peeked through the leaves toward the path again. Another jogger passed.
Then, in the distance, the faint mechanical hum of something larger, maybe a truck, or maintenance equipment starting up?
The world was coming alive whether he was ready or not. And he was very, very aware He was not ready. Not even close.
He sank lower into the greenery, doing his best to make himself small, invisible. For now, hiding was all he had. But he knew, deep down, it wouldn’t last.
—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
What happens to poor Axl next? you decide:
A: He attempts to leave by hiding behind a trash truck
B: He is found by a very friendly pupper that lacks personal space consideration and just wants to play.
C: He remains hiding in the bushes avoiding people until night falls.
All characters are fictional and not based on any real events.
—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Axl woke to a cold, damp, soggy feeling.
Not the gentle, creeping chill of a room left overnight without heat, but something sharper…alive. It pressed against his skin from every direction, damp and insistent, as though the ground itself had decided to claim him.
He didn’t open his eyes at first. His thoughts were slow, tangled, drifting somewhere between dream and waking. There was a faint rustling overhead, the soft whisper of leaves shifting in a morning breeze. Birds called to one another, too many of them. Too loud. He reached for his blankets but found nothing but air.
That was wrong.
Axl’s brow furrowed. His bed didn’t feel like this.
The realization came not as a sudden jolt, but as a gradual, creeping wrongness. The smell reached him next, earthy, green, rich with soil and grass. Not detergent. Not stale apartment air.
His eyes snapped open.
Above him stretched a pale sky, fractured by a lattice of thin branches and trembling leaves. Sunlight filtered through in scattered beams, too bright, too open. For a moment, he simply stared.
Then he sat up.
The world lurched as his body followed, his head swimming as if he’d stood too quickly after a long sleep. His hands pressed into the ground for balance and immediately recoiled.
Grass, Wet grass. Cold, damp, and very, very real.
“No… no, no, no…”
His voice came out hoarse, barely more than a breath. He looked down.
White. That was the first thing he registered. Bright, unmistakable white against the green. His briefs. Nothing else.
Axl froze, his mind stuttering as it tried to reject what his eyes were plainly telling him. He turned slightly, as if the rest of his clothes might be behind him, just out of sight but there was nothing but more grass, bushes, trees, and a few scattered twigs.
A shiver ran violently through him, and this time it wasn’t just the cold.
“No, no, no, no…”
His hands moved instinctively, tugging at the waistband of his briefs as if adjusting them might somehow fix the situation, might rewind things, place him back in his bed, under blankets, where this made sense.
But the fabric was all there was.
Thin. Useless. Exposing far more than it concealed. Axl sucked in a breath and forced himself to look around.
Bushes. Trees. A narrow, worn path cutting through the greenery a short distance away. Beyond that he could just make out the faint suggestion of open space. A field, maybe. Or worse…A park.
The word settled in his stomach like a stone. A city park. His heart began to pound.
“No way…” he whispered, the words trembling out of him. “There’s no way I…”
But there was. Of course there was. The memories didn’t come back cleanly. They never did. Sleepwalking was like that, fragments, impressions, nothing solid enough to hold onto. A vague sense of movement. Of doors opening. Of steps taken without thought.
He’d dealt with it before. Waking up in the kitchen. On the couch. Once, memorably, halfway down his apartment building’s hallway. But this?
Axl wrapped his arms around himself, suddenly aware of just how exposed he was. The morning air brushed against every inch of bare skin, cool and intrusive. Even the slightest movement of the breeze felt exaggerated, as if the world itself were drawing attention to him. He crouched low, instinctively shrinking into the bushes, pulling his knees closer.
Okay…Okay, think.
His breathing came fast at first, shallow and uneven, but he forced it slower. Panic wouldn’t help. Panic would get him seen. And being seen like this…no…that wasn't an option
His gaze flicked again toward the path. As if on cue, a figure passed by. A jogger.
They moved at an easy pace, footsteps steady against the dirt, earbuds in, completely unaware of the half-naked man frozen in the undergrowth just a few yards away.
Axl didn’t breathe. Didn’t move. Didn’t even blink until the jogger disappeared from view. Only then did the air rush back into his lungs in a quiet, shaky gasp.
“…Okay,” he murmured to himself, voice barely audible. “Okay. It’s early. That’s… that’s good.”
Early meant fewer people. Fewer people meant fewer chances to be seen.
He swallowed, wiping a hand over his face. His skin felt too sensitive, too awake. Every brush of grass, every shift of his body reminded him of his situation in the worst possible way.
He glanced down again and immediately regretted it. White stood out. White stood out a lot. Against green. Against brown. Against everything.
“Great,” he muttered bitterly. “Perfect. Couldn’t even be dark, could it?”
Another sound reached him, then distant at first, but growing. Voices. More than one.
Axl’s head snapped up, his body tensing as he strained to listen. Sure enough, through the trees, he could hear them. Casual conversation. Laughter. Closer than he liked. His pulse quickened again. The park was waking up.
Joggers. Dog walkers. Maybe city workers. People who belonged here. People who were dressed.
He pressed himself further into the bushes, ignoring the way twigs poked at his back, the way damp earth clung to his skin.
He needed a plan.
Running blindly wasn’t one. That was how he’d end up out in the open, fully exposed, with nowhere to hide. No…he had to be smart about this.
Wait.
Watch.
Figure out where he was exactly… and how far he’d wandered. Then he’d make a move. A careful one.
Axl exhaled slowly, trying to steady himself as he peeked through the leaves toward the path again. Another jogger passed.
Then, in the distance, the faint mechanical hum of something larger, maybe a truck, or maintenance equipment starting up?
The world was coming alive whether he was ready or not. And he was very, very aware He was not ready. Not even close.
He sank lower into the greenery, doing his best to make himself small, invisible. For now, hiding was all he had. But he knew, deep down, it wouldn’t last.
—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
What happens to poor Axl next? you decide:
A: He attempts to leave by hiding behind a trash truck
B: He is found by a very friendly pupper that lacks personal space consideration and just wants to play.
C: He remains hiding in the bushes avoiding people until night falls.
