The goal of this page is to write down the dialogues in the most exhaustive way while still keeping it like a book. This means that it won't be a copy-and-paste of the videogame (though grayed-out text will help in choosing the right path to unlock the next dialog) and will based upon Rhyss Hess' novelization, but expanded upon—some parts are missing on this one. So consider this to be "Rhyss Hess 2.0".
This is a work-in-progress.
A Dream: Lying on a slab, in a mortuary. A pillar covered with names. Racks of skulls. A symbol. A woman. A ghost.
I awoke, on a slab, in what was obviously a mortuary. As I levered myself up, I caught movement from the corner of my eye. A floating skull. No, I realized as it spoke: a floating, talking, skull.
“Hey, chief. You okay? You playing corpse or you putting the blinds on the Dusties? I thought you were a deader for sure.” I was confused, and had trouble focusing on what the skull was saying.
“Wh…? Who are you?”
“Me?” The skull seems indignant. “How about you start, scabbie? Who are you?”
“I asked you first, skull.”
“Yeah, ’an I asked you second. What's your name?”
“You first, skull.”
“Man, you're tighter than a wet rope. All right, all right… I'll be the nice guy here… me, I’m Morte. Morte Rictusgrin. Now what name is unfortunate enough to have you as its owner?”
“I… don’t know.” I realized that I didn't remember anything about myself.
“You don’t know who you are, huh? You COULD have just said ‘Pike it, berk.’ Well, that's okay... pretend you're a Clueless. See if I give a fig. Hail, well met and all that wash. I'm trapped in here, too.”
“Yeah, since you haven’t had time to get your legs yet, here’s the chant: I've tried all the doors, and this room is locked tighter than a chastity belt.” I needed to orient myself, and find out from the skull where I was.
“We’re locked in… where? What is this place?”
“It’s called the ‘Mortuary’... it's a big black structure with all the architectural charm of a pregnant spider.” Could I have died? Did that explain the lack of memories?
“‘The Mortuary?’ What... am I dead?”