Koa footed bowl with lid with king kalakaua stamp
A post talking about 400 words
2024.05.14 14:01 Zappingsbrew A post talking about 400 words
abandon, ability, able, about, above, absence, absolute, absolutely, abstract, abundance, academy, accent, accept, access, accident, accompany, accomplish, according, account, accurate, achieve, achievement, acid, acknowledge, acquire, across, action, active, activity, actor, actual, actually, adapt, addition, additional, address, adequate, adjust, administration, admire, admission, admit, adolescent, adopt, adult, advance, advantage, adventure, advertise, advice, advise, adviser, advocate, affair, affect, afford, afraid, after, afternoon, again, against, age, agency, agenda, agent, aggressive, ago, agree, agreement, agriculture, ahead, aid, aim, air, aircraft, airline, airport, alarm, album, alcohol, alive, all, alliance, allow, ally, almost, alone, along, already, also, alter, alternative, although, always, amateur, amazing, ambition, ambulance, among, amount, analysis, analyst, analyze, ancient, and, anger, angle, angry, animal, anniversary, announce, annual, another, answer, anticipate, anxiety, any, anybody, anymore, anyone, anything, anyway, anywhere, apart, apartment, apologize, apparent, apparently, appeal, appear, appearance, apple, application, apply, appoint, appointment, appreciate, approach, appropriate, approval, approve, approximately, architect, area, argue, argument, arise, arm, armed, army, around, arrange, arrangement, arrest, arrival, arrive, art, article, artist, artistic, as, ashamed, aside, ask, asleep, aspect, assault, assert, assess, assessment, asset, assign, assignment, assist, assistance, assistant, associate, association, assume, assumption, assure, at, athlete, athletic, atmosphere, attach, attack, attempt, attend, attention, attitude, attorney, attract, attraction, attractive, attribute, audience, author, authority, auto, available, average, avoid, award, aware, awareness, away, awful, baby, back, background, bad, badly, bag, balance, ball, ban, band, bank, bar, barely, barrel, barrier, base, baseball, basic, basically, basis, basket, basketball, bath, bathroom, battery, battle, be, beach, bear, beat, beautiful, beauty, because, become, bed, bedroom, bee, beef, beer, before, begin, beginning, behavior, behind, being, belief, believe, bell, belong, below, belt, bench, bend, beneath, benefit, beside, besides, best, bet, better, between, beyond, bicycle, big, bike, bill, billion, bind, biological, bird, birth, birthday, bit, bite, black, blade, blame, blanket, blind, block, blood, blow, blue, board, boat, body, bomb, bombing, bond, bone, book, boom, boot, border, boring, born, borrow, boss, both, bother, bottle, bottom, boundary, bowl, box, boy, boyfriend, brain, branch, brand, brave, bread, break, breakfast, breast, breath, breathe, brick, bridge, brief, briefly, bright, brilliant, bring, broad, broken, brother, brown, brush, buck, budget, build, building, bullet, bunch, burden, burn, bury, bus, business, busy, but, butter, button, buy, buyer, by, cabin, cabinet, cable, cake, calculate, call, camera, camp, campaign, campus, can, Canadian, cancer, candidate, cap, capability, capable, capacity, capital, captain, capture, car, carbon, card, care, career, careful, carefully, carrier, carry, case, cash, cast, cat, catch, category, Catholic, cause, ceiling, celebrate, celebration, celebrity, cell, center, central, century, CEO, ceremony, certain, certainly, chain, chair, chairman, challenge, chamber, champion, championship, chance, change, changing, channel, chapter, character, characteristic, characterize, charge, charity, chart, chase, cheap, check, cheek, cheese, chef, chemical, chest, chicken, chief, child, childhood, Chinese, chip, chocolate, choice, cholesterol, choose, Christian, Christmas, church, cigarette, circle, circumstance, cite, citizen, city, civil, civilian, claim, class, classic, classroom, clean, clear, clearly, client, climate, climb, clinic, clinical, clock, close, closely, closer, clothes, clothing, cloud, club, clue, cluster, coach, coal, coalition, coast, coat, code, coffee, cognitive, cold, collapse, colleague, collect, collection, collective, college, colonial, color, column, combination, combine, come, comedy, comfort, comfortable, command, commander, comment, commercial, commission, commit, commitment, committee, common, communicate, communication, community, company, compare, comparison, compete, competition, competitive, competitor, complain, complaint, complete, completely, complex, complexity, compliance, complicate, complicated, component, compose, composition, comprehensive, computer, concentrate, concentration, concept, concern, concerned, concert, conclude, conclusion, concrete, condition, conduct, conference, confidence, confident, confirm, conflict, confront, confusion, Congress, congressional, connect, connection, consciousness, consensus, consequence, conservative, consider, considerable, consideration, consist, consistent, constant, constantly, constitute, constitutional, construct, construction, consultant, consume, consumer, consumption, contact, contain, container, contemporary, content, contest, context, continue, continued, contract, contrast, contribute, contribution, control, controversial, controversy, convention, conventional, conversation, convert, conviction, convince, cook, cookie, cooking, cool, cooperation, cop, cope, copy, core, corn, corner, corporate, corporation, correct, correspondent, cost, cotton, couch, could, council, count, counter, country, county, couple, courage, course, court, cousin, cover, coverage, cow, crack, craft, crash, crazy, cream, create, creation, creative, creature, credit, crew, crime, criminal, crisis, criteria, critic, critical, criticism, criticize, crop, cross, crowd, crucial, cry, cultural, culture, cup, curious, current, currently, curriculum, custom, customer, cut, cycle, dad, daily, damage, dance, danger, dangerous, dare, dark, darkness, data, database, date, daughter, day, dead, deal, dealer, dear, death, debate, debt, decade, decide, decision, deck, declare, decline, decrease, deep, deeply, deer, defeat, defend, defendant, defense, defensive, deficit, define, definitely, definition, degree, delay, deliver, delivery, demand, democracy, Democratic, Democrat, demonstrate, demonstration, deny, department, depend, dependent, depending, depict, depression, depth, deputy, derive, describe, description, desert, deserve, design, designer, desire, desk, desperate, despite, destroy, destruction, detail, detailed, detect, detection, detective, determine, develop, developing, development, device, devil, dialogue, diet, differ, difference, different, differently, difficult, difficulty, dig, digital, dimension, dining, dinner, direct, direction, directly, director, dirt, disability, disagree, disappear, disaster, discipline, disclose, discover, discovery, discrimination, discuss, discussion, disease, dish, dismiss, disorder, display, dispute, distance, distinct, distinction, distinguish, distribute, distribution, district, diverse, diversity, divide, division, divorce, DNA, do, doctor, document, dog, domestic, dominant, dominate, door, double, doubt, down, downtown, dozen, draft, drag, drama, dramatic, dramatically, draw, drawer, drawing, dream, dress, drink, drive, driver, drop, drug, dry, due, during, dust, duty, dwell, dying, dynamic, each, eager, ear, earlier, early, earn, earnings, earth, earthquake, ease, easily, east, eastern, easy, eat, economic, economy, edge, edit, edition, editor, educate, education, educational, educator, effect, effective, effectively, efficiency, efficient, effort, egg, eight, either, elderly, elect, election, electric, electrical, electricity, electronic, element, elementary, eliminate, elite, else, elsewhere, e-mail, embrace, emerge, emergency, emission, emotion, emotional, emphasis, emphasize, employ, employee, employer, employment, empty, enable, encounter, encourage, end, enemy, energy, enforcement, engage, engine, engineer, engineering, English, enhance, enjoy, enormous, enough, ensure, enter, enterprise, entertain, entertainment, entire, entirely, entrance, entry, environment, environmental, episode, equal, equally, equipment, equivalent, era, error, escape, especially, essay, essential, essentially, establish, establishment, estate, estimate, etc, ethics, ethnic, European, evaluate, evaluation, evening, event, eventually, ever, every, everybody, everyday, everyone, everything, everywhere, evidence, evolution, evolve, exact, exactly, exam, examination, examine, example, exceed, excellent, except, exception, exchange, exciting, executive, exercise, exhibit, exhibition, exist, existence, existing, expand, expansion, expect, expectation, expense, expensive, experience, experiment, expert, explain, explanation, explode, explore, explosion, expose, exposure, express, expression, extend, extension, extensive, extent, external, extra, extraordinary, extreme, extremely, eye, fabric, face, facility, fact, factor, factory, faculty, fade, fail, failure, fair, fairly, faith, fall, false, familiar, family, famous, fan, fantasy, far, farm, farmer, fashion, fast, fat, fate, father, fault, favor, favorite, fear, feature, federal, fee, feed, feel, feeling, fellow, female, fence, festival, few, fewer, fiber, fiction, field, fifteen, fifth, fifty, fight, fighter, fighting, figure, file, fill, film, final, finally, finance, financial, find, finding, fine, finger, finish, fire, firm, first, fish, fishing, fit, fitness, five, fix, flag, flame, flat, flavor, flee, flesh, flight, float, floor, flow, flower, fly, focus, folk, follow, following, food, foot, football, for, force, foreign, forest, forever, forget, form, formal, formation, former, formula, forth, fortune, forward, found, foundation, founder, four, fourth, frame, framework, free, freedom, freeze, French, frequency, frequent, frequently, fresh, friend, friendly, friendship, from, front, fruit, frustration, fuel, fulfill, full, fully, fun, function, fund, fundamental, funding, funeral, funny, furniture, furthermore, future, gain, galaxy, gallery, game, gang, gap, garage, garden, garlic, gas, gate, gather, gay, gaze, gear, gender, gene, general, generally, generate, generation, genetic, gentleman, gently, German, gesture, get, ghost, giant, gift, gifted, girl, girlfriend, give, given, glad, glance, glass, global, glove, go, goal, God, gold, golden, golf, good, govern, government, governor, grab, grace, grade, gradually, graduate, grain, grand, grandmother, grant, grass, grave, gray, great, green, grocery, ground, group, grow, growing, growth, guarantee, guard, guess, guest, guide, guideline, guilty, gun, guy, habit, habitat, hair, half, hall, hand, handful, handle, hang, happen, happy, harbor, hard, hardly, hat, hate, have, he, head, headline, headquarters, health, healthy, hear, hearing, heart, heat, heaven, heavily, heavy, heel, height, helicopter, hell, hello, help, helpful, hence, her, herb, here, heritage, hero, herself, hey, hi, hide, high, highlight, highly, highway, hill, him, himself, hip, hire, his, historic, historical, history, hit, hold, hole, holiday, holy, home, homeless, honest, honey, honor, hope, horizon, horror, horse, hospital, host, hot, hotel, hour, house, household, housing, how, however, huge, human, humor, hundred, hungry, hunter, hunting, hurt, husband, hypothesis, ice, idea, ideal, identification, identify, identity, ignore, ill, illegal, illness, illustrate, image, imagination, imagine, immediate, immediately, immigrant, immigration, impact, implement, implication, imply, importance, important, impose, impossible, impress, impression, impressive, improve, improvement, incentive, incident, include, including, income, incorporate, increase, increased, increasingly, incredible, indeed, independence, independent, index, indicate, indication, individual, industrial, industry, infant, infection, inflation, influence, inform, information, ingredient, initial, initially, initiative, injury, inner, innocent, inquiry, inside, insight, insist, inspire, install, instance, instead, institute, institution, institutional, instruction, instructor, instrument, insurance, intellectual, intelligence, intend, intense, intensity, intention, interaction, interest, interested, interesting, internal, international, Internet, interpret, interpretation, intervention, interview, introduce, introduction, invasion, invest, investigation, investigator, investment, investor, invite, involve, involved, involvement, Iraqi, Irish, iron, Islamic, island, Israeli, issue, it, Italian, item, its, itself, jacket, jail, Japanese, jet, Jew, Jewish, job, join, joint, joke, journal, journalist, journey, joy, judge, judgment, juice, jump, junior, jury, just, justice, justify, keep, key, kick, kid, kill, killer, killing, kind, king, kiss, kitchen, knee, knife, knock, know, knowledge, lab, label, labor, laboratory, lack, lady, lake, land, landscape, language, lap, large, largely, last, late, later, Latin, latter, laugh, launch, law, lawsuit, lawyer, lay, layer, lead, leader, leadership, leading, leaf, league, lean, learn, learning, least, leather, leave, left, leg, legacy, legal, legend, legislation, legislative, legislator, legitimate, lemon, length, less, lesson, let, letter, level, liberal, library, license, lie, life, lifestyle, lifetime, lift, light, like, likely, limit, limitation, limited, line, link, lip, list, listen, literary, literature, little, live, living, load, loan, local, locate, location, lock, long, long-term, look, loose, lose, loss, lost, lot, lots, loud, love, lovely, lover, low, lower, luck, lucky, lunch, luxury, machine, mad, magazine, mail, main, mainly, maintain, maintenance, major, majority, make, maker, makeup, male, mall, man, manage, management, manager, manner, manufacturer, manufacturing, many, map, margin, mark, market, marketing, marriage, married, marry, mask, mass, massive, master, match, material, math, matter, may, maybe, mayor, me, meal, mean, meaning, meanwhile, measure, measurement, meat, mechanism, media, medical, medication, medicine, medium, meet, meeting, member, membership, memory, mental, mention, menu, mere, merely, mess, message, metal, meter, method, Mexican, middle, might, military, milk, million, mind, mine, minister, minor, minority, minute, miracle, mirror, miss, missile, mission, mistake, mix, mixture, mm-hmm, mode, model, moderate, modern, modest, mom, moment, money, monitor, month, mood, moon, moral, more, moreover, morning, mortgage, most, mostly, mother, motion, motivation, motor, mountain, mouse, mouth, move, movement, movie, Mr, Mrs, Ms, much, multiple, murder, muscle, museum, music, musical, musician, Muslim, must, mutual, my, myself, mystery, myth, naked, name, narrative, narrow, nation, national, native, natural, naturally, nature, near, nearby, nearly, necessarily, necessary, neck, need, negative, negotiate, negotiation, neighbor, neighborhood, neither, nerve, nervous, net, network, never, nevertheless, new, newly, news, newspaper, next, nice, night, nine, no, nobody, nod, noise, nomination, nominee, none, nonetheless, nor, normal, normally, north, northern, nose, not, note, nothing, notice, notion, novel, now, nowhere, nuclear, number, numerous, nurse, nut, object, objective, obligation, observation, observe, observer, obtain, obvious, obviously, occasion, occasionally, occupation, occupy, occur, ocean, odd, odds, of, off, offense, offensive, offer, office, officer, official, often, oh, oil, okay, old, Olympic, on, once, one, ongoing, onion, online, only, onto, open, opening, operate, operating, operation, operator, opinion, opponent, opportunity, oppose, opposed, opposite, opposition, option, or, orange, order, ordinary, organic, organization, organize, orientation, origin, original, originally, other, others, otherwise, ought, our, ours, ourselves, out, outcome, outside, oven, over, overall, overcome, overlook, owe, own, owner, pace, pack, package, page, pain, painful, paint, painter, painting, pair, pale, Palestinian, palm, pan, panel, panic, pant, paper, paragraph, parent, park, parking, part, participant, participate, participation, particle, particular, particularly, partly, partner, partnership, party, pass, passage, passenger, passion, past, patch, path, patient, pattern, pause, pay, payment, PC, peace, peak, peer, pen, penalty, people, pepper, per, perceive, percentage, perception, perfect, perfectly, perform, performance, perhaps, period, permanent, permission, permit, person, personal, personality, personally, personnel, perspective, persuade, pet, phase, phenomenon, philosophy, phone, photo, photographer, phrase, physical, physically, physician, piano, pick, picture, pie, piece, pile, pilot, pine, pink, pipe, pitch, place, plan, plane, planet, planning, plant, plastic, plate, platform, play, player, please, pleasure, plenty, plot, plus, PM, pocket, poem, poet, poetry, point, police, policy, political, politically, politician, politics, poll, pollution, pool, poor, pop, popular, population, porch, port, portion, portrait, portray, pose, position, positive, possess, possession, possibility, possible, possibly, post, pot, potato, potential, potentially, pound, pour, poverty, powder, power, powerful, practical, practice, prayer, preach, precisely, predict, prediction, prefer, preference, pregnancy, pregnant, preparation, prepare, prescription, presence, present, presentation, preserve, president, presidential, press, pressure, pretend, pretty, prevent, previous, previously, price, pride, priest, primarily, primary, prime, principal, principle, print, prior, priority, prison, prisoner, privacy, private, probably, problem, procedure, proceed, process, processing, processor, proclaim, produce, producer, product, production, profession, professional, professor, profile, profit, program, progress, progressive, project, prominent, promise, promote, prompt, proof, proper, properly, property, proportion, proposal, propose, prosecutor, prospect, protect, protection, protein, protest, proud, prove, provide, provider, province, provision, psychological, psychology, public, publication, publicity, publish, publisher, pull, punishment, purchase, pure, purpose, pursue, push, put, qualify, quality, quarter, quarterback, quarterly, queen, quest, question, quick, quickly, quiet, quietly, quit, quite, quote, race, racial, radiation, radical, radio, rail, rain, raise, range, rank, rapid, rapidly, rare, rarely, rate, rather, rating, ratio, raw, reach, react, reaction, reader, reading, ready, real, reality, realize, really, reason, reasonable, recall, receive, recent, recently, reception, recipe, recipient, recognition, recognize, recommend, recommendation, record, recording, recover, recovery, recruit, red, reduce, reduction, refer, reference, reflect, reflection, reform, refugee, refuse, regard, regarding, regardless, regime, region, regional, register, regular, regularly, regulate, regulation, regulator, reinforce, reject, relate, relation, relationship, relative, relatively, relax, release, relevant, relief, religion, religious, rely, remain, remaining, remarkable, remember, remind, remote, remove, repeat, repeatedly, replace, replacement, reply, report, reporter, represent, representation, representative, Republican, reputation, request, require, requirement, research, researcher, resemble, reservation, resident, residential, resign, resist, resistance, resolution, resolve, resort, resource, respect, respond, response, responsibility, responsible, rest, restaurant, restore, restriction, result, retain, retire, retirement, return, reveal, revenue, review, revolution, rhythm, rice, rich, rid, ride, rifle, right, ring, rise, risk, river, road, rock, role, roll, romantic, roof, room, root, rope, rose, rough, roughly, round, route, routine, row, rub, rubber, rude, ruin, rule, run, running, rural, rush, Russian, sacred, sad, safe, safety, sake, salad, salary, sale, sales, salt, same, sample, sanction, sand, satellite, satisfaction, satisfied, satisfy, sauce, save, saving, say, scale, scandal, scare, scatter, scenario, scene, schedule, scheme, scholar, scholarship, school, science, scientific, scientist, scope, score, scream, screen, script, sea, search, season, seat, second, secondary, secret, secretary, section, sector, secure, security, see, seed, seek, seem, segment, seize, select, selection, self, sell, Senate, senator, send, senior, sense, sensitive, sentence, separate, sequence, series, serious, seriously, servant, serve, service, session, set, setting, settle, settlement, seven, several, severe, sex, sexual, shade, shadow, shake, shall, shallow, shape, share, sharp, she, sheet, shelf, shell, shelter, shift, shine, ship, shirt, shock, shoe, shoot, shooting, shop, shopping, short, shortly, shot, should, shoulder, shout, show, shower, shrug, shut, shy, sibling, sick, side, sigh, sight, sign, signal, significant, significantly, silence, silent, silver, similar, similarly, simple, simply, sin, since, sing, singer, single, sink, sir, sister, sit, site, situation, six, size, ski, skill, skin, skirt, sky, slave, sleep, slice, slide, slight, slightly, slip, slow, slowly, small, smart, smell, smile, smoke, smooth, snap, snow, so, so-called, soccer, social, society, soft, software, soil, solar, soldier, sole, solid, solution, solve, some, somebody, somehow, someone, something, sometimes, somewhat, somewhere, son, song, soon, sophisticated, sorry, sort, soul, sound, soup, source, south, southern, Soviet, space, Spanish, speak, speaker, special, specialist, species, specific, specifically, specify, speech, speed, spend, spending, spin, spirit, spiritual, split, spoil, sponsor, sport, spot, spray, spread, spring, square, squeeze, stability, stable, staff, stage, stain, stair, stake, stand, standard, standing, star, stare, start, state, statement, station, statistical, status, stay, steady, steal, steel, steep, stem, step, stick, still, stimulate, stimulus, stir, stock, stomach, stone, stop, storage, store, storm, story, straight, strange, stranger, strategic, strategy, stream, street, strength, strengthen, stress, stretch, strike, string, strip, stroke, strong, strongly, structural, structure, struggle, student, studio, study, stuff, stupid, style, subject, submit, subsequent, substance, substantial, substitute, succeed, success, successful, successfully, such, sudden, suddenly, sue, suffer, sufficient, sugar, suggest, suggestion, suicide, suit, summer, summit, sun, super, supply, support, supporter, suppose, supposed, Supreme, sure, surely, surface, surgery, surprise, surprised, surprising, surprisingly, surround, survey, survival, survive, survivor, suspect, sustain, swear, sweep, sweet, swim, swing, switch, symbol, symptom, system, table, tactic, tail, take, tale, talent, talk, tall, tank, tap, tape, target, task, taste, tax, taxi, tea, teach, teacher, teaching, team, tear, technical, technique, technology, teen, teenager, telephone, telescope, television, tell, temperature, temporary, ten, tend, tendency, tennis, tension, tent, term, terms, terrible, territory, terror, terrorist, test, testimony, testing, text, than, thank, thanks, that, the, theater, their, them, theme, themselves, then, theory, therapy, there, therefore, these, they, thick, thin, thing, think, thinking, third, thirty, this, those, though, thought, thousand, threat, threaten, three, throat, through, throughout, throw, thus, ticket, tie, tight, time, tiny, tip, tire, tissue, title, to, tobacco, today, toe, together, toilet, token, tolerate, tomato, tomorrow, tone, tongue, tonight, too, tool, tooth, top, topic, toss, total, totally, touch, tough, tour, tourist, tournament, toward, towards, tower, town, toy, trace, track, trade, tradition, traditional, traffic, tragedy, trail, train, training, transfer, transform, transformation, transition, translate, translation, transmission, transmit, transport, transportation, travel, treat, treatment, treaty, tree, tremendous, trend, trial, tribe, trick, trip, troop, trouble, truck, true, truly, trust, truth, try, tube, tunnel, turn, TV, twelve, twenty, twice, twin, two, type, typical, typically, ugly, ultimate, ultimately, unable, uncle, undergo, understand, understanding, unfortunately, uniform, union, unique, unit, United, universal, universe, university, unknown, unless, unlike, until, unusual, up, upon, upper, urban, urge, us, use, used, useful, user, usual, usually, utility, utilize, vacation, valley, valuable, value, variable, variation, variety, various, vary, vast, vegetable, vehicle, venture, version, versus, very, vessel, veteran, via, victim, victory, video, view, viewer, village, violate, violation, violence, violent, virtually, virtue, virus, visibility, visible, vision, visit, visitor, visual, vital, voice, volume, voluntary, volunteer, vote, voter, voting, wage, wait, wake, walk, wall, wander, want, war, warm, warn, warning, wash, waste, watch, water, wave, way, we, weak, weakness, wealth, wealthy, weapon, wear, weather, web, website, wedding, week, weekend, weekly, weigh, weight, welcome, welfare, well, west, western, wet, what, whatever, wheel, when, whenever, where, whereas, whether, which, while, whisper, white, who, whole, whom, whose, why, wide, widely, widespread, wife, wild, wildlife, will, willing, win, wind, window, wine, wing, winner, winter, wipe, wire, wisdom, wise, wish, with, withdraw, within, without, witness, woman, wonder, wonderful, wood, wooden, word, work, worker, working, workout, workplace, works, workshop, world, worried, worry, worth, would, wound, wrap, write, writer, writing, wrong, yard, yeah, year, yell, yellow, yes, yesterday, yet, yield, you, young, your, yours, yourself, youth, zone.
submitted by Zappingsbrew to u/Zappingsbrew [link] [comments]
2024.05.14 04:12 LuckyOwlCritic MyHeard - Meat Eaters!
If you wanna make your opinion known on where I go after Networked and His Shining Armor
HungrySpeep bleated;
Hi there! I'm a female Venlil living on Earth, and I wanna talk about my first experience with eating meat!
Let me just say, I will be going into detail about my experiences, so if eating meat is still too much for you, ye have been warned
. . .
If you're still here, congrats! Old school exterminators probably wanna put a shock collar on you!
Moving on
So it happened this one night during a heavy storm, about a year after I'd moved to Earth to be with my mate. I'd just gotten home from work and was feeling terrible. I was cold and soaked, I'd forgotten my lunch and hadn't gotten anything to eat, and I hadn't talked to Lily all day, so I walked in hoping for a warm meal, a couple of dry towels, and some cuddling.
Except, Lily was passed out cold on the coach, still in her gym clothes. Apparently, she'd been ridden hard in training that day and had only gotten as far the living room before going face first into the nearest cushion.
So I pet her hair some, move to the kitchen, get ready to resign myself to some cold salad, when I see it. The crockpot.
(For those of you unaware, a crockpot is Human cooking equipment, a pot in this sort of heated bowl that slowly cooks things, sometimes over the course of a [Day and night]. It's probably more complicated than that, but I don't know, I'm just hungry)
So I kind of just stand there for a moment next to it, feeling the heat coming off of it, seeing the gravy bubble and the roast just slowly fall apart, glistening shreds of meat floating around and soaking in the flavors of the seasoning and sauce.
Like I said, I hadn't had anything to eat that day, and I'd always heard how my mate talked about meat before, how happy she seemed whenever she sat down for a meal with it.
My stomach clenched.
"Just one bite," I told myself, "Just one spoonful. A weird experience I can laugh about later."
I pulled open the cutlery drawer and got a spoon.
"Me and Lily can banter over it, she can call me a Predator, I'll call her my Prey, we can play wrestle over it,"
I took the lid off and the mist hit me full on, a blessing after the strong wind and cold rain, and I swear I could taste this thick headiness in it, made my stomach growl so loud I'm surprised Lily didn't wake up.
"It's nothing weird. There's nothing wrong about it."
I dip my spoon in and pull out a helping of gravy and meat, just a dripping as it steamed.
"It's just a taste."
I put the spoon in my mouth.
And everything changed.
Morning came, and Lily woke up to only enough roast and gravy left for one bowl, and a very guilty Venlil passed out on the couch next to her.
I knew what I'd done wasn't wrong, and it still took me a long time and a lot of help to stop feeling any guilt over it, but it happened. I got to experience something that I was told my whole life was the epitome of evil, that no good or sane person, that no sapient PERIOD would ever indulge in.
And I fucking loved it.
Describing the roast itself; Meat is savory, that cannot be overstated. What I had was beef roast, a thick chunk of meat that's usually chopped up, and served with a side to balance out the heavy flavor. Or, in my case, left to slowly cook and soak in home-made gravy, this thick, off-white sauce that's seasoned and goes perfectly with heavy meats, or grilled and buttered bread as Lily showed me later.
It was hearty, it was filling, it covered every corner of my mouth and warmed me up from the inside out in the heaviest and coziest way possible, and I just couldn't get enough. I never even bothered with a bowl, I just ate straight from the pot, sometimes I reached over to the bread (Human strayu) to get a few slices to spoon it over, usually ended up spilling some on my paws, which were then promptly licked clean.
It was messy, it was taboo, it left me feeling like I had to keep looking over my shoulder after every couple of spoonfuls, and it was the best damn meal I had ever had.
And now, when my [Six foot six inches], [Three hundred pound] heavyweight boxer mate feels like spoiling her little [Four foot eight inches] VenLady, she makes a visit to a nearby wholesaler, takes the crockpot down from the cabinet, and gets out her grandma's notes on home-made gravy.
What about you guys? Did you fall into the meat pit too, and how?
I say again, if you wanna vote or rant about what you want me to do, click this
submitted by LuckyOwlCritic to NatureofPredators [link] [comments]
Hi there! I'm a female Venlil living on Earth, and I wanna talk about my first experience with eating meat!
Let me just say, I will be going into detail about my experiences, so if eating meat is still too much for you, ye have been warned
. . .
If you're still here, congrats! Old school exterminators probably wanna put a shock collar on you!
Moving on
So it happened this one night during a heavy storm, about a year after I'd moved to Earth to be with my mate. I'd just gotten home from work and was feeling terrible. I was cold and soaked, I'd forgotten my lunch and hadn't gotten anything to eat, and I hadn't talked to Lily all day, so I walked in hoping for a warm meal, a couple of dry towels, and some cuddling.
Except, Lily was passed out cold on the coach, still in her gym clothes. Apparently, she'd been ridden hard in training that day and had only gotten as far the living room before going face first into the nearest cushion.
So I pet her hair some, move to the kitchen, get ready to resign myself to some cold salad, when I see it. The crockpot.
(For those of you unaware, a crockpot is Human cooking equipment, a pot in this sort of heated bowl that slowly cooks things, sometimes over the course of a [Day and night]. It's probably more complicated than that, but I don't know, I'm just hungry)
So I kind of just stand there for a moment next to it, feeling the heat coming off of it, seeing the gravy bubble and the roast just slowly fall apart, glistening shreds of meat floating around and soaking in the flavors of the seasoning and sauce.
Like I said, I hadn't had anything to eat that day, and I'd always heard how my mate talked about meat before, how happy she seemed whenever she sat down for a meal with it.
My stomach clenched.
"Just one bite," I told myself, "Just one spoonful. A weird experience I can laugh about later."
I pulled open the cutlery drawer and got a spoon.
"Me and Lily can banter over it, she can call me a Predator, I'll call her my Prey, we can play wrestle over it,"
I took the lid off and the mist hit me full on, a blessing after the strong wind and cold rain, and I swear I could taste this thick headiness in it, made my stomach growl so loud I'm surprised Lily didn't wake up.
"It's nothing weird. There's nothing wrong about it."
I dip my spoon in and pull out a helping of gravy and meat, just a dripping as it steamed.
"It's just a taste."
I put the spoon in my mouth.
And everything changed.
Morning came, and Lily woke up to only enough roast and gravy left for one bowl, and a very guilty Venlil passed out on the couch next to her.
I knew what I'd done wasn't wrong, and it still took me a long time and a lot of help to stop feeling any guilt over it, but it happened. I got to experience something that I was told my whole life was the epitome of evil, that no good or sane person, that no sapient PERIOD would ever indulge in.
And I fucking loved it.
Describing the roast itself; Meat is savory, that cannot be overstated. What I had was beef roast, a thick chunk of meat that's usually chopped up, and served with a side to balance out the heavy flavor. Or, in my case, left to slowly cook and soak in home-made gravy, this thick, off-white sauce that's seasoned and goes perfectly with heavy meats, or grilled and buttered bread as Lily showed me later.
It was hearty, it was filling, it covered every corner of my mouth and warmed me up from the inside out in the heaviest and coziest way possible, and I just couldn't get enough. I never even bothered with a bowl, I just ate straight from the pot, sometimes I reached over to the bread (Human strayu) to get a few slices to spoon it over, usually ended up spilling some on my paws, which were then promptly licked clean.
It was messy, it was taboo, it left me feeling like I had to keep looking over my shoulder after every couple of spoonfuls, and it was the best damn meal I had ever had.
And now, when my [Six foot six inches], [Three hundred pound] heavyweight boxer mate feels like spoiling her little [Four foot eight inches] VenLady, she makes a visit to a nearby wholesaler, takes the crockpot down from the cabinet, and gets out her grandma's notes on home-made gravy.
What about you guys? Did you fall into the meat pit too, and how?
2024.05.13 22:44 C3PH4L0SP0R1N "A Shadow on the Soul"
This is an expansion of a recent post and also incorporates some ideas from this theory (by u/ndependent-Design17). Throughout the series the reader is repeatedly reminded that "only death can pay for life" — that magic, especially powerful magic, comes at great cost.
This phrase or variations of this phrase are repeated by Melisandre, Mirri, etc. at various points throughout the series. That which follows is a highly speculative theory on the nature of the cost of magic in the series. Specifically, that souls are central to the exercise of magic and can be used as magic currency.
What happens after we die? Is there some part of us that lives on or do we simply cease to exist. These are fundamental questions that are essentially unanswerable in life but not in ASOIAF. The reader is given a point-of-view account of death in the prologue of ADWD. After unsuccessfully attempting to steal the body of Thistle, a wildling spearwife, Varamyr dies and briefly becomes a disembodied consciousness:
Afterward his "spirit," or soul, is eventually transferred into a body of wolf and he begins his second life. This event, and the process of skin-changing more generally, appears to involve projection or transfer of a soul from one body into another. The process of projecting or transferring souls to either animal vessels or the weirwoods is central to the magic of the Children of the Forest.
After death a "shadow on the soul" of the Singers remain in the crows. The soul of Orell is also described as living on in the body of his eagle after his death.
This process appears to take two forms: the soul can be temporarily projected from one body into another (e.g., as happens when Bran skin-changes into Hodor) or can be permanently transferred as is described in the separate examples above.
These transferred souls merge with their recipient, at least to some degree, and may decay over time:
Bran is provided with similar warnings about the danger of spending too much time in Summer's skin by Jojen.
The Bran that appears to Jon-Ghost in the vision in ACOK is also likely the lingering soul of a non-contemporary Bran, contained in the weirwoods and communicating from the future.
There is more information about this in the Time Traveling Bran series. Briefly, the version of Bran in this vision does not appear to be contemporaneous because likes the dark, is able to open Jon's third eye, smells of death, etc. (This is well outside of the scope of this theory however.)
To answer this let us examine one of the most concrete example of magic in the series, the use or exchange of Stannis Baratheon's "life-fire" in order for Melisandre to manifest the shadows used to kill Renly Baratheon and Courtney Penrose.
According to this explanation, the cost of producing these shadow appears to have been part of his "life-fire," or soul. The shadow is specifically described as having the shape Stannis supporting this. Whether this applies to other types of magic — specifically blood magic or fire magic — is less clear but shadow magic very much appears to require the use of souls.
This type of exchange is also directly referenced in the story of the Night's King provided by Old Nan:
Stannis is described by Davos afterward as follows:
Asha later describes Stannis as appearing life a "man with one foot in the grave."
These descriptions seem appropriate for a character that has lost part of their "life-fire" or soul.
Throughout the series Stannis is forced to make a series of increasingly difficult decisions. The most significant of these decisions regards the fate of his nephew, Eric Storm. Melisandre repeatedly urges him to "give [her] the boy," presumably to be burned, but is rebuffed by Stannis.
Is the life of this bastard boy worth the lives of millions that would die if the Others break through the Wall? Making a deal with the devil and literally selling his soul in pursuit of some greater good seems very appropriate for his character, thematically. The description of his flesh turning to ash in this vision is representative also supports this interpretation.
Following this ritual all of the mentioned individuals do die but do so as the part of separate conspiracies (e.g., Robb Stark is betrayed by the Freys and Boltons, Joffrey Baratheon by Littlefinger and the Tyrells, etc.) which were already in place. It is left intentionally ambiguous by the author but it does not appear that the ritual meaningfully contributed to their deaths.
The creation of the shadows is said by Melisandre to have required part of Stannis' "life-fire" or soul. Could it be that the leech burning ritual was unsuccessful because blood alone is not sufficient as a sacrifice?
These forms of magic are frequently described in the community as "shadow magic" and "blood magic." These concepts — "fire and blood" and "flame and shadow" — are highly associated with one another in the text:
I speculate that these are different expressions of the same concept; that all of these fall under the general umbrella of fire magic and share common principles. "Fire consumes and in the end there's nothing left."
The introduction of shadow magic in the series is provided above with Mirri Max Duur. Following this ritual Drogo is described as a lifeless husk:
It has previously been speculated that Mirri "reverse skin-changed" Drogo (e.g., "strength of the mount go into the rider, strength of the beast go into the man."). The description provided is less consistent with a horse soul inhabiting a human body than it is with the complete or near-complete absence of a soul. It appears more likely in retrospect that Mirri sacrificed part of Drogo's soul to summon the shadows and likely as a means to kill Daenerys' unborn child.
There is a paucity of information on the reanimation of the dead in the series. The resurrection of Beric Dondarrion, for example, appears to be different in fundamental ways from that of the wights or Cold Hands. (We are potentially given a point-of-view account of this process if you accept that Victarion died in ADWD.)
Thoros is also described as appearing very different after performing this ritual several times in a way that is not entirely dissimilar to the changes in Stannis’ appearance referenced above.
Thoros attributes these changes to his renewed devotion to the Red God and spending "a year in the wild" as above although he is not exactly forthcoming with Arya about the resurrection process. It is also likely that he does not entirely understand what specifically is being exchanged here.
Later he describes Beric giving the "kiss of life" to the corpse of Catelyn Stark:
Notably, this process produces a reanimated Catelyn (a.k.a. Lady Stoneheart). The soul of Beric, or at least whatever is left of his soul at this point in the series, is consumed in order to resurrect Catelyn and not transferred.
This is again highly speculative but it seems reasonable to consider that these cold shadows are not "ice demons" or "ice zombies" but are in fact ghosts, the spirits or souls of men that are bound to the earth through magic by the Children of the Forest. (The textual evidence of the creation of the Others by the Children has previously been discussed at length in the community in separate posts.) "Fire consumes, but cold preserves."
This would explain several of the unusual characteristics of the Others described by Tormund:
A reasonable interpretation of this information is that the Others are present during the day, at least in some capacity, and are only able to assume corporeal form at night.
The Others are also described as "going lightly upon the snow" which would also supports the idea that they are ghosts:
EDIT: edited several times to address formatting issues
submitted by C3PH4L0SP0R1N to pureasoiaf [link] [comments]
"Only death can pay for life, my lord. A great gift requires a great sacrifice.”Davos, ASOS
This phrase or variations of this phrase are repeated by Melisandre, Mirri, etc. at various points throughout the series. That which follows is a highly speculative theory on the nature of the cost of magic in the series. Specifically, that souls are central to the exercise of magic and can be used as magic currency.
1. establishing the concept of the soul
Oh, to be sure, there is much we do not understand. The years pass in their hundreds and their thousands, and what does any man see of life but a few summers, a few winters? We look at mountains and call them eternal, and so they seem… but in the course of time, mountains rise and fall, rivers change their courses, stars fall from the sky, and great cities sink beneath the sea. Even gods die, we think. Everything changes.Bran, AGOT
What happens after we die? Is there some part of us that lives on or do we simply cease to exist. These are fundamental questions that are essentially unanswerable in life but not in ASOIAF. The reader is given a point-of-view account of death in the prologue of ADWD. After unsuccessfully attempting to steal the body of Thistle, a wildling spearwife, Varamyr dies and briefly becomes a disembodied consciousness:
The white world turned and fell away. For a moment it was as if he were inside the weirwood, gazing out through carved red eyes as a dying man twitched feebly on the ground and a madwoman danced blind and bloody underneath the moon, weeping red tears and ripping at her clothes. Then both were gone and he was rising, melting, his spirit borne on some cold wind. He was in the snow and in the clouds, he was a sparrow, a squirrel, an oak. A horned owl flew silently between his trees, hunting a hare; Varamyr was inside the owl, inside the hare, inside the trees. Deep below the frozen ground, earthworms burrowed blindly in the dark, and he was them as well. I am the wood, and everything that’s in it, he thought, exulting.Prologue, ADWD
Afterward his "spirit," or soul, is eventually transferred into a body of wolf and he begins his second life. This event, and the process of skin-changing more generally, appears to involve projection or transfer of a soul from one body into another. The process of projecting or transferring souls to either animal vessels or the weirwoods is central to the magic of the Children of the Forest.
“Someone else was in the raven,” he told Lord Brynden, once he had returned to his own skin. “Some girl. I felt her.”Bran, ADWD
“A woman, of those who sing the song of earth,” his teacher said. “Long dead, yet a part of her remains, just as a part of you would remain in Summer if your boy’s flesh were to die upon the morrow. A shadow on the soul. She will not harm you.”
"Do all the birds have singers in them?"
“All,” Lord Brynden said.
After death a "shadow on the soul" of the Singers remain in the crows. The soul of Orell is also described as living on in the body of his eagle after his death.
This process appears to take two forms: the soul can be temporarily projected from one body into another (e.g., as happens when Bran skin-changes into Hodor) or can be permanently transferred as is described in the separate examples above.
These transferred souls merge with their recipient, at least to some degree, and may decay over time:
"The wolf is part of you from that day on, and you’re part of him. Both of you will change.”Prologue, ADWD
Other beasts were best left alone, the hunter had declared. Cats were vain and cruel, always ready to turn on you. Elk and deer were prey; wear their skins too long, and even the bravest man became a coward. Bears, boars, badgers, weasels … Haggon did not hold with such. “Some skins you never want to wear, boy. You won’t like what you’d become.” Birds were the worst, to hear him tell it. “Men were not meant to leave the earth. Spend too much time in the clouds and you never want to come back down again.
...
"They say you forget," Haggon had told him, a few weeks before his own death.
"When the man's flesh dies, his spirit lives on inside the beast, but every day his memory fades, and the beast becomes a little less a warg, a little more a wolf, until nothing of the man is left and only the beast remains."
Bran is provided with similar warnings about the danger of spending too much time in Summer's skin by Jojen.
The Bran that appears to Jon-Ghost in the vision in ACOK is also likely the lingering soul of a non-contemporary Bran, contained in the weirwoods and communicating from the future.
The weirwood had his brother’s face. Had his brother always had three eyes?Jon, ACOK
Not always, came the silent shout. Not before the crow.
He sniffed at the bark, smelled wolf and tree and boy, but behind that there were other scents, the rich brown smell of warm earth and the hard grey smell of stone and something else, something terrible. Death, he knew. He was smelling death. He cringed back, his hair bristling, and bared his fangs.
"Don’t be afraid, I like it in the dark. No one can see you, but you can see them. But first you have to open your eyes. See? Like this." And the tree reached down and touched him.
There is more information about this in the Time Traveling Bran series. Briefly, the version of Bran in this vision does not appear to be contemporaneous because likes the dark, is able to open Jon's third eye, smells of death, etc. (This is well outside of the scope of this theory however.)
2. shadow magic requires souls
As above the reader is repeatedly reminded throughout the series that "only death can pay for life." What is specifically being sacrificed, though? Is the magic being fueled by the blood of the sacrificed or by something else?To answer this let us examine one of the most concrete example of magic in the series, the use or exchange of Stannis Baratheon's "life-fire" in order for Melisandre to manifest the shadows used to kill Renly Baratheon and Courtney Penrose.
Shadows only live when given birth by light, and the king's fires burn so low I dare not draw off any more to make another son. It might well kill him."Davos, ASOS
Melisandre moved closer.
"With another man, though... a man whose flames still burn hot and high... if you truly wish to serve your king's cause, come to my chamber one night. I could give you pleasure such as you have never known, and with your life-fire I could make..."
According to this explanation, the cost of producing these shadow appears to have been part of his "life-fire," or soul. The shadow is specifically described as having the shape Stannis supporting this. Whether this applies to other types of magic — specifically blood magic or fire magic — is less clear but shadow magic very much appears to require the use of souls.
This type of exchange is also directly referenced in the story of the Night's King provided by Old Nan:
A woman was his downfall; a woman glimpsed from atop the Wall, with skin as white as the moon and eyes like blue stars. Fearing nothing, he chased her and caught her and loved her, though her skin was cold as ice, and when he gave his seed to her he gave his soul as well. (Credit to u/DigLost5791 for this reference.)Bran, ASOS
Stannis is described by Davos afterward as follows:
The look of him was a shock. He seemed ten years older than the man that Davos had left at Storm’s End when he set sail for the Blackwater and the battle that would be their undoing. The king’s close-cropped beard was spiderwebbed with grey hairs, and he had dropped two stone or more of weight. He had never been a fleshy man, but now the bones moved beneath his skin like spears, fighting to cut free. Even his crown seemed too large for his head. His eyes were blue pits lost in deep hollows, and the shape of a skull could be seen beneath his face.Davos, ASOS
Asha later describes Stannis as appearing life a "man with one foot in the grave."
What little flesh he’d carried on his tall, spare frame at Deepwood Motte had melted away during the march. The shape of his skull could be seen under his skin, and his jaw was clenched so hard Asha feared his teeth might shatter.Asha, ADWD
These descriptions seem appropriate for a character that has lost part of their "life-fire" or soul.
Throughout the series Stannis is forced to make a series of increasingly difficult decisions. The most significant of these decisions regards the fate of his nephew, Eric Storm. Melisandre repeatedly urges him to "give [her] the boy," presumably to be burned, but is rebuffed by Stannis.
“I know the cost! Last night, gazing into that hearth, I saw things in the flames as well. I saw a king, a crown of fire on his brows, burning… burning, Davos. His own crown consumed his flesh and turned him into ash. Do you think I need Melisandre to tell me what that means? Or you?” The king moved, so his shadow fell upon King’s Landing.Davos, ASOS
"…what is the life of one bastard boy against a kingdom?”
“Everything,” said Davos, softly.
Is the life of this bastard boy worth the lives of millions that would die if the Others break through the Wall? Making a deal with the devil and literally selling his soul in pursuit of some greater good seems very appropriate for his character, thematically. The description of his flesh turning to ash in this vision is representative also supports this interpretation.
3. blood and fire magic
As opposed to the creation of the shadows described above, we are also provided an example of so-called blood magic in the leech burning ritual.“Give me the boy, Your Grace. It is the surer way. The better way. Give me the boy and I shall wake the stone dragon.”Davos, ASOS
...
Melisandre bowed her head stiffly, and said, “As my king commands.” Reaching up her left sleeve with her right hand, she flung a handful of powder into the brazier. The coals roared. As pale flames writhed atop them, the red woman retrieved the silver dish and brought it to the king. Davos watched her lift the lid. Beneath were three large black leeches, fat with blood. The boy’s blood, Davos knew. A king’s blood. Stannis stretched forth a hand, and his fingers closed around one of the leeches.
“Say the name,” Melisandre commanded.
Following this ritual all of the mentioned individuals do die but do so as the part of separate conspiracies (e.g., Robb Stark is betrayed by the Freys and Boltons, Joffrey Baratheon by Littlefinger and the Tyrells, etc.) which were already in place. It is left intentionally ambiguous by the author but it does not appear that the ritual meaningfully contributed to their deaths.
The creation of the shadows is said by Melisandre to have required part of Stannis' "life-fire" or soul. Could it be that the leech burning ritual was unsuccessful because blood alone is not sufficient as a sacrifice?
These forms of magic are frequently described in the community as "shadow magic" and "blood magic." These concepts — "fire and blood" and "flame and shadow" — are highly associated with one another in the text:
“Shadow?" Davos felt his flesh prickling. "A shadow is a thing of darkness."Davos, ACOK
”You are more ignorant than a child, ser knight. There are no shadows in the dark. Shadows are the servants of light, the children of fire. The brightest flame casts the darkest shadows."
I speculate that these are different expressions of the same concept; that all of these fall under the general umbrella of fire magic and share common principles. "Fire consumes and in the end there's nothing left."
4. dancing shadows
The tent was aglow with the light of braziers within. Through the blood-spattered sandsilk, she glimpsed shadows moving.Daenerys, AGOT
Mirri Maz Duur was dancing, and not alone.
...
No, Dany wanted to say, no, not that, you mustn’t, but when she opened her mouth, a long wail of pain escaped, and the sweat broke over her skin. What was wrong with them, couldn’t they see?
Inside the tent the shapes were dancing, circling the brazier and the bloody bath, dark against the sandsilk, and some did not look human. She glimpsed the shadow of a great wolf, and another like a man wreathed in flames.
“The Lamb Woman knows the secrets of the birthing bed,” Irri said. “She said so, I heard her.”
“Yes,” Doreah agreed, “I heard her too.”
No, she shouted, or perhaps she only thought it, for no whisper of sound escaped her lips. She was being carried. Her eyes opened to gaze up at a flat dead sky, black and bleak and starless. Please, no. The sound of Mirri Maz Duur’s voice grew louder, until it filled the world. The shapes! She screamed. The dancers!
Ser Jorah carried her inside the tent.
The introduction of shadow magic in the series is provided above with Mirri Max Duur. Following this ritual Drogo is described as a lifeless husk:
"He seems to like the warmth, Princess," Ser Jorah said. "His eyes follow the sun, though he does not see it. He can walk after a fashion. He will go where you lead him, but no farther. He will eat if you put food in his mouth, drink if you dribble water on his lips."Daenerys, AGOT
It has previously been speculated that Mirri "reverse skin-changed" Drogo (e.g., "strength of the mount go into the rider, strength of the beast go into the man."). The description provided is less consistent with a horse soul inhabiting a human body than it is with the complete or near-complete absence of a soul. It appears more likely in retrospect that Mirri sacrificed part of Drogo's soul to summon the shadows and likely as a means to kill Daenerys' unborn child.
“The stallion who mounts the world will burn no cities now. His khalasar shall trample no nations into dust."Daenerys, AGOT
5. reanimation
If "only death can pay for life" and souls are used as a form of magical currency how does one explain the reanimation or resurrection process?There is a paucity of information on the reanimation of the dead in the series. The resurrection of Beric Dondarrion, for example, appears to be different in fundamental ways from that of the wights or Cold Hands. (We are potentially given a point-of-view account of this process if you accept that Victarion died in ADWD.)
“Thoros, how many times have you brought me back now?”There is no immediately identifiable magical cost for these "kisses of life," at least at first glance. Thoros later tells us that he breathed part of his "flames" or soul into Beric:
The red priest bowed his head. “It is R’hllor who brings you back, my lord. The Lord of Light. I am only his instrument.”
“How many times?” Lord Beric insisted.
“Six,” Thoros said reluctantly.
“And each time is harder. You have grown reckless, my lord. Is death so very sweet?”
Arya, ASOS
“That first time, his lordship had a hole right through him and blood in his mouth, I knew there was no hope. So when his poor torn chest stopped moving, I gave him the good god's own kiss to send him on his way. I filled my mouth with fire and breathed the flames inside him, down his throat to lungs and heart and soul. The last kiss it is called, and many a time I saw the old priests bestow it on the Lord's servants as they died." (Credit to u/watchersontheweb for providing this quote in the initial thread.)Arya, ASOS
Thoros is also described as appearing very different after performing this ritual several times in a way that is not entirely dissimilar to the changes in Stannis’ appearance referenced above.
“Here’s the wizard, skinny squirrel. You’ll get your answers now.”Arya, ASOS
He pointed toward the fire, where Tom Sevenstrings stood talking to a tall thin man with oddments of old armor buckled on over his ratty pink robes. That can’t be Thoros of Myr. Arya remembered the red priest as fat, with a smooth face and a shiny bald head. This man had a droopy face and a full head of shaggy grey hair.
...
“Thoros of Myr. You used to shave your head.”
“To betoken a humble heart, but in truth my heart was vain. Besides, I lost my razor in the woods.” The priest slapped his belly. “I am less than I was, but more. A year in the wild will melt the flesh off a man. Would that I could find a tailor to take in my skin. I might look young again, and pretty maids would shower me with kisses.”
Thoros attributes these changes to his renewed devotion to the Red God and spending "a year in the wild" as above although he is not exactly forthcoming with Arya about the resurrection process. It is also likely that he does not entirely understand what specifically is being exchanged here.
Later he describes Beric giving the "kiss of life" to the corpse of Catelyn Stark:
“The Freys slashed her throat from ear to ear. When we found her by the river she was three days dead. Harwin begged me to give her the kiss of life, but it had been too long. I would not do it, so Lord Beric put his lips to hers instead, and the flame of life passed from him to her. And… she rose. May the Lord of Light protect us. She rose.”Brienne, AFFC
Notably, this process produces a reanimated Catelyn (a.k.a. Lady Stoneheart). The soul of Beric, or at least whatever is left of his soul at this point in the series, is consumed in order to resurrect Catelyn and not transferred.
6. cold shadows (wild speculation)
The terms "white shadows," "pale shadows," and "cold shadows" are repeated used to describe the Others. The Others are also highly associated with ghosts — the spirits or souls of the dead bound to the earth. (The forrest in which they are introduced is literally called the Haunted Forrest.)The Others made no sound.Prologue, AGOT
Will saw movement from the corner of his eye. Pale shapes gliding through the wood. He turned his head, glimpsed a white shadow in the darkness. Then it was gone. Branches stirred gently in the wind, scratching at one another with wooden fingers. Will opened his mouth to call down a warning, and the words seemed to freeze in his throat. Perhaps he was wrong. Perhaps it had only been a bird, a reflection on the snow, some trick of the moonlight. What had he seen, after all?
“Will, where are you?” Ser Waymar called up. “Can you see anything?” He was turning in a slow circle, suddenly wary, his sword in hand. He must have felt them, as Will felt them. There was nothing to see. “Answer me! Why is it so cold?” It was cold.
Shivering, Will clung more tightly to his perch. His face pressed hard against the trunk of the sentinel. He could feel the sweet, sticky sap on his cheek. A shadow emerged from the dark of the wood. It stood in front of Royce. Tall, it was, and gaunt and hard as old bones, with flesh pale as milk. Its armor seemed to change color as it moved; here it was white as new-fallen snow, there black as shadow, everywhere dappled with the deep grey-green of the trees. The patterns ran like moonlight on water with every step it took. Will heard the breath go out of Ser Waymar Royce in a long hiss. ...
The Other slid forward on silent feet. In its hand was a longsword like none that Will had ever seen. No human metal had gone into the forging of that blade. It was alive with moonlight, translucent, a shard of crystal so thin that it seemed almost to vanish when seen edge-on. There was a faint blue shimmer to the thing, a ghost-light that played around its edges, and somehow Will knew it was sharper than any razor.
This is again highly speculative but it seems reasonable to consider that these cold shadows are not "ice demons" or "ice zombies" but are in fact ghosts, the spirits or souls of men that are bound to the earth through magic by the Children of the Forest. (The textual evidence of the creation of the Others by the Children has previously been discussed at length in the community in separate posts.) "Fire consumes, but cold preserves."
This would explain several of the unusual characteristics of the Others described by Tormund:
“Tormund,” Jon said, as they watched four old women pull a cartful of children toward the gate, “tell me of our foe. I would know all there is to know of the Others.”Jon, ADWD
The wildling rubbed his mouth. “Not here,” he mumbled, “not this side o’ your Wall.” The old man glanced uneasily toward the trees in their white mantles. “They’re never far, you know. They won’t come out by day, not when that old sun’s shining, but don’t think that means they went away. Shadows never go away. Might be you don’t see them, but they’re always clinging to your heels.”
...
Tormund turned back.
"You know nothing. You killed a dead man, aye, I heard. Mance killed a hundred. A man can fight the dead, but when their masters come, when the white mists rise up… how do you fight a mist, crow? Shadows with teeth … air so cold it hurts to breathe, like a knife inside your chest … you do not know, you cannot know … can your sword cut cold?"
A reasonable interpretation of this information is that the Others are present during the day, at least in some capacity, and are only able to assume corporeal form at night.
The Others are also described as "going lightly upon the snow" which would also supports the idea that they are ghosts:
“The white walkers go lightly on the snow,” the ranger said. “You’ll find no prints to mark their passage.”Samwell, ASOS
7. conclusions
This highly speculative theory attempts to reconcile several seemingly disparate concepts in the series related to magic, namely the actual nature of magical sacrifice ("only death can pay for life") and shadows or shadow magic. More specifically, I suggest that souls are the primary magical currency and can be consumed using fire magic to summon shadows, create glamours, etc. I also speculate that similar processes took place during Mirri Maz Duur's shadow-binding ritual in AGOT and during the repeated resurrections of Berric Dondarrion in ASOS. I further suggest that the Others are ghosts, the spirits or souls of the dead bound to the earth.EDIT: edited several times to address formatting issues
2024.05.13 22:37 C3PH4L0SP0R1N (spoilers extended) "A Shadow on the Soul"
This is an expansion of a recent post and also incorporates some ideas from this theory (by u/ndependent-Design17). Throughout the series the reader is repeatedly reminded that "only death can pay for life" — that magic, especially powerful magic, comes at great cost.
This phrase or variations of this phrase are repeated by Melisandre, Mirri, etc. at various points throughout the series. That which follows is a highly speculative theory on the nature of the cost of magic in the series. Specifically, that souls are central to the exercise of magic and can be used as magic currency.
What happens after we die? Is there some part of us that lives on or do we simply cease to exist. These are fundamental questions that are essentially unanswerable in life but not in ASOIAF. The reader is given a point-of-view account of death in the prologue of ADWD. After unsuccessfully attempting to steal the body of Thistle, a wildling spearwife, Varamyr dies and briefly becomes a disembodied consciousness:
Afterward his "spirit," or soul, is eventually transferred into a body of wolf and he begins his second life. This event, and the process of skin-changing more generally, appears to involve projection or transfer of a soul from one body into another. The process of projecting or transferring souls to either animal vessels or the weirwoods is central to the magic of the Children of the Forest.
After death a "shadow on the soul" of the Singers remain in the crows. The soul of Orell is also described as living on in the body of his eagle after his death.
This process appears to take two forms: the soul can be temporarily projected from one body into another (e.g., as happens when Bran skin-changes into Hodor) or can be permanently transferred as is described in the separate examples above.
These transferred souls merge with their recipient, at least to some degree, and may decay over time:
Bran is provided with similar warnings about the danger of spending too much time in Summer's skin by Jojen.
The Bran that appears to Jon-Ghost in the vision in ACOK is also likely the lingering soul of a non-contemporary Bran, contained in the weirwoods and communicating from the future.
There is more information about this in the Time Traveling Bran series. Briefly, the version of Bran in this vision does not appear to be contemporaneous because likes the dark, is able to open Jon's third eye, smells of death, etc. (This is well outside of the scope of this theory however.)
To answer this let us examine one of the most concrete example of magic in the series, the use or exchange of Stannis Baratheon's "life-fire" in order for Melisandre to manifest the shadows used to kill Renly Baratheon and Courtney Penrose.
According to this explanation, the cost of producing these shadow appears to have been part of his "life-fire," or soul. The shadow is specifically described as having the shape Stannis supporting this. Whether this applies to other types of magic — specifically blood magic or fire magic — is less clear but shadow magic very much appears to require the use of souls.
This type of exchange is also directly referenced in the story of the Night's King provided by Old Nan:
Stannis is described by Davos afterward as follows:
Asha later describes Stannis as appearing life a "man with one foot in the grave."
These descriptions seem appropriate for a character that has lost part of their "life-fire" or soul.
Throughout the series Stannis is forced to make a series of increasingly difficult decisions. The most significant of these decisions regards the fate of his nephew, Eric Storm. Melisandre repeatedly urges him to "give [her] the boy," presumably to be burned, but is rebuffed by Stannis.
Is the life of this bastard boy worth the lives of millions that would die if the Others break through the Wall? Making a deal with the devil and literally selling his soul in pursuit of some greater good seems very appropriate for his character, thematically. The description of his flesh turning to ash in this vision is representative also supports this interpretation.
Following this ritual all of the mentioned individuals do die but do so as the part of separate conspiracies (e.g., Robb Stark is betrayed by the Freys and Boltons, Joffrey Baratheon by Littlefinger and the Tyrells, etc.) which were already in place. It is left intentionally ambiguous by the author but it does not appear that the ritual meaningfully contributed to their deaths.
The creation of the shadows is said by Melisandre to have required part of Stannis' "life-fire" or soul. Could it be that the leech burning ritual was unsuccessful because blood alone is not sufficient as a sacrifice?
These forms of magic are frequently described in the community as "shadow magic" and "blood magic." These concepts — "fire and blood" and "flame and shadow" — are highly associated with one another in the text:
I speculate that these are different expressions of the same concept; that all of these fall under the general umbrella of fire magic and share common principles. "Fire consumes and in the end there's nothing left."
The introduction of shadow magic in the series is provided above with Mirri Max Duur. Following this ritual Drogo is described as a lifeless husk:
It has previously been speculated that Mirri "reverse skin-changed" Drogo (e.g., "strength of the mount go into the rider, strength of the beast go into the man."). The description provided is less consistent with a horse soul inhabiting a human body than it is with the complete or near-complete absence of a soul. It appears more likely in retrospect that Mirri sacrificed part of Drogo's soul to summon the shadows and likely as a means to kill Daenerys' unborn child.
There is a paucity of information on the reanimation of the dead in the series. The resurrection of Beric Dondarrion, for example, appears to be different in fundamental ways from that of the wights or Cold Hands. (We are potentially given a point-of-view account of this process if you accept that Victarion died in ADWD.)
Thoros is also described as appearing very different after performing this ritual several times in a way that is not entirely dissimilar to the changes in Stannis’ appearance referenced above.
Thoros attributes these changes to his renewed devotion to the Red God and spending "a year in the wild" as above although he is not exactly forthcoming with Arya about the resurrection process. It is also likely that he does not entirely understand what specifically is being exchanged here.
Later he describes Beric giving the "kiss of life" to the corpse of Catelyn Stark:
Notably, this process produces a reanimated Catelyn (a.k.a. Lady Stoneheart). The soul of Beric, or at least whatever is left of his soul at this point in the series, is consumed in order to resurrect Catelyn and not transferred.
This is again highly speculative but it seems reasonable to consider that these cold shadows are not "ice demons" or "ice zombies" but are in fact ghosts, the spirits or souls of men that are bound to the earth through magic by the Children of the Forest. (The textual evidence of the creation of the Others by the Children is linked in a separate post here.) "Fire consumes, but cold preserves."
This would explain several of the unusual characteristics of the Others described by Tormund:
A reasonable interpretation of this information is that the Others are present during the day, at least in some capacity, and are only able to assume corporeal form at night.
The Others are also described as "going lightly upon the snow" which would also supports the idea that they are ghosts:
EDIT: edited several times to address formatting issues
submitted by C3PH4L0SP0R1N to asoiaf [link] [comments]
"Only death can pay for life, my lord. A great gift requires a great sacrifice.”Davos, ASOS
This phrase or variations of this phrase are repeated by Melisandre, Mirri, etc. at various points throughout the series. That which follows is a highly speculative theory on the nature of the cost of magic in the series. Specifically, that souls are central to the exercise of magic and can be used as magic currency.
1. establishing the concept of the soul
Oh, to be sure, there is much we do not understand. The years pass in their hundreds and their thousands, and what does any man see of life but a few summers, a few winters? We look at mountains and call them eternal, and so they seem… but in the course of time, mountains rise and fall, rivers change their courses, stars fall from the sky, and great cities sink beneath the sea. Even gods die, we think. Everything changes.Bran, AGOT
What happens after we die? Is there some part of us that lives on or do we simply cease to exist. These are fundamental questions that are essentially unanswerable in life but not in ASOIAF. The reader is given a point-of-view account of death in the prologue of ADWD. After unsuccessfully attempting to steal the body of Thistle, a wildling spearwife, Varamyr dies and briefly becomes a disembodied consciousness:
The white world turned and fell away. For a moment it was as if he were inside the weirwood, gazing out through carved red eyes as a dying man twitched feebly on the ground and a madwoman danced blind and bloody underneath the moon, weeping red tears and ripping at her clothes. Then both were gone and he was rising, melting, his spirit borne on some cold wind. He was in the snow and in the clouds, he was a sparrow, a squirrel, an oak. A horned owl flew silently between his trees, hunting a hare; Varamyr was inside the owl, inside the hare, inside the trees. Deep below the frozen ground, earthworms burrowed blindly in the dark, and he was them as well. I am the wood, and everything that’s in it, he thought, exulting.Prologue, ADWD
Afterward his "spirit," or soul, is eventually transferred into a body of wolf and he begins his second life. This event, and the process of skin-changing more generally, appears to involve projection or transfer of a soul from one body into another. The process of projecting or transferring souls to either animal vessels or the weirwoods is central to the magic of the Children of the Forest.
“Someone else was in the raven,” he told Lord Brynden, once he had returned to his own skin. “Some girl. I felt her.”Bran, ADWD
“A woman, of those who sing the song of earth,” his teacher said. “Long dead, yet a part of her remains, just as a part of you would remain in Summer if your boy’s flesh were to die upon the morrow. A shadow on the soul. She will not harm you.”
"Do all the birds have singers in them?"
“All,” Lord Brynden said.
After death a "shadow on the soul" of the Singers remain in the crows. The soul of Orell is also described as living on in the body of his eagle after his death.
This process appears to take two forms: the soul can be temporarily projected from one body into another (e.g., as happens when Bran skin-changes into Hodor) or can be permanently transferred as is described in the separate examples above.
These transferred souls merge with their recipient, at least to some degree, and may decay over time:
"The wolf is part of you from that day on, and you’re part of him. Both of you will change.”Prologue, ADWD
Other beasts were best left alone, the hunter had declared. Cats were vain and cruel, always ready to turn on you. Elk and deer were prey; wear their skins too long, and even the bravest man became a coward. Bears, boars, badgers, weasels … Haggon did not hold with such. “Some skins you never want to wear, boy. You won’t like what you’d become.” Birds were the worst, to hear him tell it. “Men were not meant to leave the earth. Spend too much time in the clouds and you never want to come back down again.
...
"They say you forget," Haggon had told him, a few weeks before his own death.
"When the man's flesh dies, his spirit lives on inside the beast, but every day his memory fades, and the beast becomes a little less a warg, a little more a wolf, until nothing of the man is left and only the beast remains."
Bran is provided with similar warnings about the danger of spending too much time in Summer's skin by Jojen.
The Bran that appears to Jon-Ghost in the vision in ACOK is also likely the lingering soul of a non-contemporary Bran, contained in the weirwoods and communicating from the future.
The weirwood had his brother’s face. Had his brother always had three eyes?Jon, ACOK
Not always, came the silent shout. Not before the crow.
He sniffed at the bark, smelled wolf and tree and boy, but behind that there were other scents, the rich brown smell of warm earth and the hard grey smell of stone and something else, something terrible. Death, he knew. He was smelling death. He cringed back, his hair bristling, and bared his fangs.
"Don’t be afraid, I like it in the dark. No one can see you, but you can see them. But first you have to open your eyes. See? Like this." And the tree reached down and touched him.
There is more information about this in the Time Traveling Bran series. Briefly, the version of Bran in this vision does not appear to be contemporaneous because likes the dark, is able to open Jon's third eye, smells of death, etc. (This is well outside of the scope of this theory however.)
2. shadow magic requires souls
As above the reader is repeatedly reminded throughout the series that "only death can pay for life." What is specifically being sacrificed, though? Is the magic being fueled by the blood of the sacrificed or by something else?To answer this let us examine one of the most concrete example of magic in the series, the use or exchange of Stannis Baratheon's "life-fire" in order for Melisandre to manifest the shadows used to kill Renly Baratheon and Courtney Penrose.
Shadows only live when given birth by light, and the king's fires burn so low I dare not draw off any more to make another son. It might well kill him."Davos, ASOS
Melisandre moved closer.
"With another man, though... a man whose flames still burn hot and high... if you truly wish to serve your king's cause, come to my chamber one night. I could give you pleasure such as you have never known, and with your life-fire I could make..."
According to this explanation, the cost of producing these shadow appears to have been part of his "life-fire," or soul. The shadow is specifically described as having the shape Stannis supporting this. Whether this applies to other types of magic — specifically blood magic or fire magic — is less clear but shadow magic very much appears to require the use of souls.
This type of exchange is also directly referenced in the story of the Night's King provided by Old Nan:
A woman was his downfall; a woman glimpsed from atop the Wall, with skin as white as the moon and eyes like blue stars. Fearing nothing, he chased her and caught her and loved her, though her skin was cold as ice, and when he gave his seed to her he gave his soul as well. (Credit to u/DigLost5791 for this reference.)Bran, ASOS
Stannis is described by Davos afterward as follows:
The look of him was a shock. He seemed ten years older than the man that Davos had left at Storm’s End when he set sail for the Blackwater and the battle that would be their undoing. The king’s close-cropped beard was spiderwebbed with grey hairs, and he had dropped two stone or more of weight. He had never been a fleshy man, but now the bones moved beneath his skin like spears, fighting to cut free. Even his crown seemed too large for his head. His eyes were blue pits lost in deep hollows, and the shape of a skull could be seen beneath his face.Davos, ASOS
Asha later describes Stannis as appearing life a "man with one foot in the grave."
What little flesh he’d carried on his tall, spare frame at Deepwood Motte had melted away during the march. The shape of his skull could be seen under his skin, and his jaw was clenched so hard Asha feared his teeth might shatter.Asha, ADWD
These descriptions seem appropriate for a character that has lost part of their "life-fire" or soul.
Throughout the series Stannis is forced to make a series of increasingly difficult decisions. The most significant of these decisions regards the fate of his nephew, Eric Storm. Melisandre repeatedly urges him to "give [her] the boy," presumably to be burned, but is rebuffed by Stannis.
“I know the cost! Last night, gazing into that hearth, I saw things in the flames as well. I saw a king, a crown of fire on his brows, burning… burning, Davos. His own crown consumed his flesh and turned him into ash. Do you think I need Melisandre to tell me what that means? Or you?” The king moved, so his shadow fell upon King’s Landing.Davos, ASOS
"…what is the life of one bastard boy against a kingdom?”
“Everything,” said Davos, softly.
Is the life of this bastard boy worth the lives of millions that would die if the Others break through the Wall? Making a deal with the devil and literally selling his soul in pursuit of some greater good seems very appropriate for his character, thematically. The description of his flesh turning to ash in this vision is representative also supports this interpretation.
3. blood and fire magic
As opposed to the creation of the shadows described above, we are also provided an example of so-called blood magic in the leech burning ritual.“Give me the boy, Your Grace. It is the surer way. The better way. Give me the boy and I shall wake the stone dragon.”Davos, ASOS
...
Melisandre bowed her head stiffly, and said, “As my king commands.” Reaching up her left sleeve with her right hand, she flung a handful of powder into the brazier. The coals roared. As pale flames writhed atop them, the red woman retrieved the silver dish and brought it to the king. Davos watched her lift the lid. Beneath were three large black leeches, fat with blood. The boy’s blood, Davos knew. A king’s blood. Stannis stretched forth a hand, and his fingers closed around one of the leeches.
“Say the name,” Melisandre commanded.
Following this ritual all of the mentioned individuals do die but do so as the part of separate conspiracies (e.g., Robb Stark is betrayed by the Freys and Boltons, Joffrey Baratheon by Littlefinger and the Tyrells, etc.) which were already in place. It is left intentionally ambiguous by the author but it does not appear that the ritual meaningfully contributed to their deaths.
The creation of the shadows is said by Melisandre to have required part of Stannis' "life-fire" or soul. Could it be that the leech burning ritual was unsuccessful because blood alone is not sufficient as a sacrifice?
These forms of magic are frequently described in the community as "shadow magic" and "blood magic." These concepts — "fire and blood" and "flame and shadow" — are highly associated with one another in the text:
“Shadow?" Davos felt his flesh prickling. "A shadow is a thing of darkness."Davos, ACOK
”You are more ignorant than a child, ser knight. There are no shadows in the dark. Shadows are the servants of light, the children of fire. The brightest flame casts the darkest shadows."
I speculate that these are different expressions of the same concept; that all of these fall under the general umbrella of fire magic and share common principles. "Fire consumes and in the end there's nothing left."
4. dancing shadows
The tent was aglow with the light of braziers within. Through the blood-spattered sandsilk, she glimpsed shadows moving.Daenerys, AGOT
Mirri Maz Duur was dancing, and not alone.
...
No, Dany wanted to say, no, not that, you mustn’t, but when she opened her mouth, a long wail of pain escaped, and the sweat broke over her skin. What was wrong with them, couldn’t they see?
Inside the tent the shapes were dancing, circling the brazier and the bloody bath, dark against the sandsilk, and some did not look human. She glimpsed the shadow of a great wolf, and another like a man wreathed in flames.
“The Lamb Woman knows the secrets of the birthing bed,” Irri said. “She said so, I heard her.”
“Yes,” Doreah agreed, “I heard her too.”
No, she shouted, or perhaps she only thought it, for no whisper of sound escaped her lips. She was being carried. Her eyes opened to gaze up at a flat dead sky, black and bleak and starless. Please, no. The sound of Mirri Maz Duur’s voice grew louder, until it filled the world. The shapes! She screamed. The dancers!
Ser Jorah carried her inside the tent.
The introduction of shadow magic in the series is provided above with Mirri Max Duur. Following this ritual Drogo is described as a lifeless husk:
"He seems to like the warmth, Princess," Ser Jorah said. "His eyes follow the sun, though he does not see it. He can walk after a fashion. He will go where you lead him, but no farther. He will eat if you put food in his mouth, drink if you dribble water on his lips."Daenerys, AGOT
It has previously been speculated that Mirri "reverse skin-changed" Drogo (e.g., "strength of the mount go into the rider, strength of the beast go into the man."). The description provided is less consistent with a horse soul inhabiting a human body than it is with the complete or near-complete absence of a soul. It appears more likely in retrospect that Mirri sacrificed part of Drogo's soul to summon the shadows and likely as a means to kill Daenerys' unborn child.
“The stallion who mounts the world will burn no cities now. His khalasar shall trample no nations into dust."Daenerys, AGOT
5. reanimation
If "only death can pay for life" and souls are used as a form of magical currency how does one explain the reanimation or resurrection process?There is a paucity of information on the reanimation of the dead in the series. The resurrection of Beric Dondarrion, for example, appears to be different in fundamental ways from that of the wights or Cold Hands. (We are potentially given a point-of-view account of this process if you accept that Victarion died in ADWD.)
“Thoros, how many times have you brought me back now?”There is no immediately identifiable magical cost for these "kisses of life," at least at first glance. Thoros later tells us that he breathed part of his "flames" or soul into Beric:
The red priest bowed his head. “It is R’hllor who brings you back, my lord. The Lord of Light. I am only his instrument.”
“How many times?” Lord Beric insisted.
“Six,” Thoros said reluctantly.
“And each time is harder. You have grown reckless, my lord. Is death so very sweet?”
Arya, ASOS
“That first time, his lordship had a hole right through him and blood in his mouth, I knew there was no hope. So when his poor torn chest stopped moving, I gave him the good god's own kiss to send him on his way. I filled my mouth with fire and breathed the flames inside him, down his throat to lungs and heart and soul. The last kiss it is called, and many a time I saw the old priests bestow it on the Lord's servants as they died." (Credit to u/watchersontheweb for providing this quote in the initial thread.)Arya, ASOS
Thoros is also described as appearing very different after performing this ritual several times in a way that is not entirely dissimilar to the changes in Stannis’ appearance referenced above.
“Here’s the wizard, skinny squirrel. You’ll get your answers now.”Arya, ASOS
He pointed toward the fire, where Tom Sevenstrings stood talking to a tall thin man with oddments of old armor buckled on over his ratty pink robes. That can’t be Thoros of Myr. Arya remembered the red priest as fat, with a smooth face and a shiny bald head. This man had a droopy face and a full head of shaggy grey hair.
...
“Thoros of Myr. You used to shave your head.”
“To betoken a humble heart, but in truth my heart was vain. Besides, I lost my razor in the woods.” The priest slapped his belly. “I am less than I was, but more. A year in the wild will melt the flesh off a man. Would that I could find a tailor to take in my skin. I might look young again, and pretty maids would shower me with kisses.”
Thoros attributes these changes to his renewed devotion to the Red God and spending "a year in the wild" as above although he is not exactly forthcoming with Arya about the resurrection process. It is also likely that he does not entirely understand what specifically is being exchanged here.
Later he describes Beric giving the "kiss of life" to the corpse of Catelyn Stark:
“The Freys slashed her throat from ear to ear. When we found her by the river she was three days dead. Harwin begged me to give her the kiss of life, but it had been too long. I would not do it, so Lord Beric put his lips to hers instead, and the flame of life passed from him to her. And… she rose. May the Lord of Light protect us. She rose.”Brienne, AFFC
Notably, this process produces a reanimated Catelyn (a.k.a. Lady Stoneheart). The soul of Beric, or at least whatever is left of his soul at this point in the series, is consumed in order to resurrect Catelyn and not transferred.
6. cold shadows (wild speculation)
The terms "white shadows," "pale shadows," and "cold shadows" are repeated used to describe the Others. The Others are also highly associated with ghosts — the spirits or souls of the dead bound to the earth. (The forrest in which they are introduced is literally called the Haunted Forrest.)The Others made no sound.Prologue, AGOT
Will saw movement from the corner of his eye. Pale shapes gliding through the wood. He turned his head, glimpsed a white shadow in the darkness. Then it was gone. Branches stirred gently in the wind, scratching at one another with wooden fingers. Will opened his mouth to call down a warning, and the words seemed to freeze in his throat. Perhaps he was wrong. Perhaps it had only been a bird, a reflection on the snow, some trick of the moonlight. What had he seen, after all?
“Will, where are you?” Ser Waymar called up. “Can you see anything?” He was turning in a slow circle, suddenly wary, his sword in hand. He must have felt them, as Will felt them. There was nothing to see. “Answer me! Why is it so cold?” It was cold.
Shivering, Will clung more tightly to his perch. His face pressed hard against the trunk of the sentinel. He could feel the sweet, sticky sap on his cheek. A shadow emerged from the dark of the wood. It stood in front of Royce. Tall, it was, and gaunt and hard as old bones, with flesh pale as milk. Its armor seemed to change color as it moved; here it was white as new-fallen snow, there black as shadow, everywhere dappled with the deep grey-green of the trees. The patterns ran like moonlight on water with every step it took. Will heard the breath go out of Ser Waymar Royce in a long hiss. ...
The Other slid forward on silent feet. In its hand was a longsword like none that Will had ever seen. No human metal had gone into the forging of that blade. It was alive with moonlight, translucent, a shard of crystal so thin that it seemed almost to vanish when seen edge-on. There was a faint blue shimmer to the thing, a ghost-light that played around its edges, and somehow Will knew it was sharper than any razor.
This is again highly speculative but it seems reasonable to consider that these cold shadows are not "ice demons" or "ice zombies" but are in fact ghosts, the spirits or souls of men that are bound to the earth through magic by the Children of the Forest. (The textual evidence of the creation of the Others by the Children is linked in a separate post here.) "Fire consumes, but cold preserves."
This would explain several of the unusual characteristics of the Others described by Tormund:
“Tormund,” Jon said, as they watched four old women pull a cartful of children toward the gate, “tell me of our foe. I would know all there is to know of the Others.”Jon, ADWD
The wildling rubbed his mouth. “Not here,” he mumbled, “not this side o’ your Wall.” The old man glanced uneasily toward the trees in their white mantles. “They’re never far, you know. They won’t come out by day, not when that old sun’s shining, but don’t think that means they went away. Shadows never go away. Might be you don’t see them, but they’re always clinging to your heels.”
...
Tormund turned back.
"You know nothing. You killed a dead man, aye, I heard. Mance killed a hundred. A man can fight the dead, but when their masters come, when the white mists rise up… how do you fight a mist, crow? Shadows with teeth … air so cold it hurts to breathe, like a knife inside your chest … you do not know, you cannot know … can your sword cut cold?"
A reasonable interpretation of this information is that the Others are present during the day, at least in some capacity, and are only able to assume corporeal form at night.
The Others are also described as "going lightly upon the snow" which would also supports the idea that they are ghosts:
“The white walkers go lightly on the snow,” the ranger said. “You’ll find no prints to mark their passage.”Samwell, ASOS
7. conclusions
This highly speculative theory attempts to reconcile several seemingly disparate concepts in the series related to magic, namely the actual nature of magical sacrifice ("only death can pay for life") and shadows or shadow magic. More specifically, I suggest that souls are the primary magical currency and can be consumed using fire magic to summon shadows, create glamours, etc. I also speculate that similar processes took place during Mirri Maz Duur's shadow-binding ritual in AGOT and during the repeated resurrections of Berric Dondarrion in ASOS. I further suggest that the Others are ghosts, the spirits or souls of the dead bound to the earth.EDIT: edited several times to address formatting issues
2024.05.13 21:58 EJC28 Titans 2024 Draft Analysis Compilation
Round 1, Pick 7 - JC Latham, OT, Alabama:
NFL: General manager Ran Carthon is putting his stamp on the team with this pick. Taking Latham tells me the Titans want to continue playing bully ball and dominate at the point of attack despite surrounding their young quarterback with pass-catching talent in free agency. The 6-foot-6, 342-pound tackle can overwhelm and overpower opponents on the edges, which should excite second-year quarterback Will Levis.
CBS Sports: B+. He is a right tackle and they need a left tackle, so it will be interesting to see how they play it. But he’s a violent player wherever he plays. They cross-train at Alabama at both left and right, so he should be able to make a smooth transition.
ESPN: Latham played mostly right tackle at Alabama but will switch sides in the NFL. He was a highly-rated left tackle coming out of IMG Academy but switched to right tackle because Evan Neal was already entrenched on the left side. Latham's mix of size, heavy hands and footwork should allow him to fit in there. But it's a risk to use a top-10 pick on a player and switch his position. The Titans have used three picks within the first three rounds on offensive linemen since 2020. Could Latham be the one that finally pays dividends?
NFL Absolutely Not Fake News: Hopes he can convince his squirrel army to come with him.
Round 2, Pick 38 - T’Vondre Sweat, DT, Texas:
NFL: Our first mini-shocker of the day. The massive Sweat was believed to be a possible top-50 pick at one point, but that was prior to his recent arrest. Credit to the Titans if they did the requisite work on Sweat's character in the past few weeks. He's a massive human being capable of closing down two gaps by himself, but some teams felt Sweat might be available entering Round 4 based on recent developments.
CBS Sports: C-. Monstrous NT who finally demonstrated a glimmer of pass-rush capability with hand work as a senior. Not as good against the run or double teams as his size indicates. Probably two-down player in the NFL. Tennessee did need more size inside along the DL, but this is too early for a limited player.
ESPN: Sweat is another move for the Titans to address the trenches. At 6-foot-5, 366 pounds, Sweat will pair with Jeffery Simmons along the defensive line giving the Titans a formidable duo to attack the quarterback and stop the run. Sweat consistently made plays behind the line of scrimmage as shown by his eight tackles for a loss and two sacks. Sweat was booked into jail after an arrest for driving while intoxicated earlier this month, but the Titans are confident he will be fine with Simmons and former Texas teammate Keondre Coburn as leaders in the locker room.
NFL Absolutely Not Fake News: Jumped his family mini-van like the Dukes of Hazzard.
Round 4, Pick 106 - Cedric Gray, LB, North Carolina:
NFL: Nice value here for a linebacker who does almost everything fairly well and can be a tone-setter in the locker room. Gray will be a quality special-teamer at the very least, but he carries starting potential down the road. He's aggressive and instinctive.
CBS Sports: A-. One of the younger prospects in the class who comes with plenty of experience. More fluid in coverage than he is with sheer explosion and range to the football against the runs. Has to improve beating blocks in traffic en route to the football. Long limbs. Upside is there.
ESPN: The Titans address a need at inside linebacker with Gray. Tennessee lost starter Azeez Al-Shaair when he signed a free agent deal with the Texans. Jack Gibbens started most of the season next to Al-Shaair last year. Gray will compete with Gibbens for the opportunity to start along side Kenneth Murray Jr. who signed a free agent deal last month. Having started the past two seasons at North Carolina, Gray could be a candidate to wear the green dot communicator helmet to relay the plays from the sideline to the defensive huddle.
NFL Absolutely Not Fake News: Knows there is chemical waste buried under the Browns training camp.
Round 5, Pick 146 - Jarvis Brownlee Jr., CB, Louisville:
NFL: Nickel corner run! Brownlee will take on all comers in coverage, lacking great size and speed but compensating with good experience, coverage savvy and an intense focus.
CBS Sports: B-. Confident and feisty CB who can play inside or the perimeter. Not overly twitchy. Nice mix of physicality and athleticism at the line and during the route. Tackling is average at best. Same with ball skills and overall athletic skill set. Not tremendous anywhere but doesn’t have a clear flaw.
ESPN: Brownlee Jr. gives the Titans depth, especially at nickel cornerback behind Roger McCreary. Tennessee met with Brownlee at the Senior Bowl and had him in for a 30 visit. Defense is clearly a priority for the Titans as they've addressed that side of the ball with the last three picks. Brownlee lands in an ideal situation where he can learn behind L’Jarius Sneed and Chidobe Awuzie and play for noted defensive back specialist Dennard Wilson.
NFL Absolutely Not Fake News: Almost got his toe bitten off by a snapping turtle.
Round 6, Pick 182 - Jha’Quan Jackson, WR, Tulane:
NFL: It felt like Jackson was among the leaders in Senior Bowl practice receptions. Interestingly, I felt he was underused at Tulane, as Jackson has good quickness to uncover and make people miss as a smaller-framed slot receiver. He and teammate Tyjae Spears are reunited in Nashville.
CBS Sports: B+. Small somewhat twitchy vertical threat. Not as ridiculous changing direction as his size would indicate but has electric burst and speed. Minuscule catch radius but flashed some bounce to go up and get it at times, although physicality and longer CBs give him problems.
ESPN: Jackson gives the Titans depth at slot receiver and another player that can be in the mix as a punt returner. Titans coach Brian Callahan expressed a need for someone to step up as a slot receiver when asked about wideouts in the draft. Jackson will compete with Kyle Philips, Mason Kinsey, and Kearis Jackson for a roster spot and the opportunity to contribute from the slot. He was a college teammate of Titans running back Tyjae Spears at Tulane. Jackson is also the nephew of Hall of Fame Baltimore Ravens safety Ed Reed.
NFL Absolutely Not Fake News: He had to come up with all these draft facts under duress.
Round 7, Pick 242 - James Williams, S, Miami:
NFL: A long, fairly rangy athlete who spent more time at deep safety than he did in the box, Williams will be tried as a linebacker. His unusual dimensions and skill set might make him a sleeper.
CBS Sports: A-. Has some wild tackling misses on film but also counters with impact plays behind/near the line or at the intermediate level in coverage. Enormous size and length for the safety spot and will set the tone in many games with his powerful tackling. Not incredibly twitched up but moves reasonably well for his size.
ESPN: At this point, teams draft for traits. Williams played as a box safety at Miami but some teams envision him as a linebacker after seeing him work at that position at the Senior Bowl. That falls in line with the versatility that defensive coordinator Dennard Wilson said he wants. Wilson also said he wants the defense to be aggressive which is something that Williams showcased in college. Tennessee could also use him on special teams.
NFL Absolutely Not Fake News: Simply cannot believe that Shrek 2 is 20 years old this year. WTF.
Round 7, Pick 252 - Jaylen Harrell, DE, Michigan:
NFL: Harrell is a broad-framed linebacker with rush skills and an alpha-dog mentality. His performance in the national title game was great, and he could be a sub-package defender with a unique job description.
CBS Sports: A. Old-school outside linebacker who can sink in coverage or attack the outside shoulder of the tackle. Smooth, athletic movements to comfortably do either. Shows glimpses of pass-rush promises just doesn’t diversify his rushes enough. Must get stronger but does set sturdy edge. Young ascending player.
ESPN: Five of the seven Titans picks have been on defense. Harrell's father, James, spent eight seasons in the NFL and played one season in the USFL. Jaylen Harrell started all 15 games for Michigan in its national championship season and adds to the Titans' depth at outside linebacker. He'll compete primarily with Harold Landry III, Arden Key, Rashad Weaver, and Caleb Murphy for a chance to be in the edge rotation.
NFL Absolutely Not Fake News: Has band T-Shirts from the 80’s and 90’s.
submitted by EJC28 to Tennesseetitans [link] [comments]
NFL: General manager Ran Carthon is putting his stamp on the team with this pick. Taking Latham tells me the Titans want to continue playing bully ball and dominate at the point of attack despite surrounding their young quarterback with pass-catching talent in free agency. The 6-foot-6, 342-pound tackle can overwhelm and overpower opponents on the edges, which should excite second-year quarterback Will Levis.
CBS Sports: B+. He is a right tackle and they need a left tackle, so it will be interesting to see how they play it. But he’s a violent player wherever he plays. They cross-train at Alabama at both left and right, so he should be able to make a smooth transition.
ESPN: Latham played mostly right tackle at Alabama but will switch sides in the NFL. He was a highly-rated left tackle coming out of IMG Academy but switched to right tackle because Evan Neal was already entrenched on the left side. Latham's mix of size, heavy hands and footwork should allow him to fit in there. But it's a risk to use a top-10 pick on a player and switch his position. The Titans have used three picks within the first three rounds on offensive linemen since 2020. Could Latham be the one that finally pays dividends?
NFL Absolutely Not Fake News: Hopes he can convince his squirrel army to come with him.
Round 2, Pick 38 - T’Vondre Sweat, DT, Texas:
NFL: Our first mini-shocker of the day. The massive Sweat was believed to be a possible top-50 pick at one point, but that was prior to his recent arrest. Credit to the Titans if they did the requisite work on Sweat's character in the past few weeks. He's a massive human being capable of closing down two gaps by himself, but some teams felt Sweat might be available entering Round 4 based on recent developments.
CBS Sports: C-. Monstrous NT who finally demonstrated a glimmer of pass-rush capability with hand work as a senior. Not as good against the run or double teams as his size indicates. Probably two-down player in the NFL. Tennessee did need more size inside along the DL, but this is too early for a limited player.
ESPN: Sweat is another move for the Titans to address the trenches. At 6-foot-5, 366 pounds, Sweat will pair with Jeffery Simmons along the defensive line giving the Titans a formidable duo to attack the quarterback and stop the run. Sweat consistently made plays behind the line of scrimmage as shown by his eight tackles for a loss and two sacks. Sweat was booked into jail after an arrest for driving while intoxicated earlier this month, but the Titans are confident he will be fine with Simmons and former Texas teammate Keondre Coburn as leaders in the locker room.
NFL Absolutely Not Fake News: Jumped his family mini-van like the Dukes of Hazzard.
Round 4, Pick 106 - Cedric Gray, LB, North Carolina:
NFL: Nice value here for a linebacker who does almost everything fairly well and can be a tone-setter in the locker room. Gray will be a quality special-teamer at the very least, but he carries starting potential down the road. He's aggressive and instinctive.
CBS Sports: A-. One of the younger prospects in the class who comes with plenty of experience. More fluid in coverage than he is with sheer explosion and range to the football against the runs. Has to improve beating blocks in traffic en route to the football. Long limbs. Upside is there.
ESPN: The Titans address a need at inside linebacker with Gray. Tennessee lost starter Azeez Al-Shaair when he signed a free agent deal with the Texans. Jack Gibbens started most of the season next to Al-Shaair last year. Gray will compete with Gibbens for the opportunity to start along side Kenneth Murray Jr. who signed a free agent deal last month. Having started the past two seasons at North Carolina, Gray could be a candidate to wear the green dot communicator helmet to relay the plays from the sideline to the defensive huddle.
NFL Absolutely Not Fake News: Knows there is chemical waste buried under the Browns training camp.
Round 5, Pick 146 - Jarvis Brownlee Jr., CB, Louisville:
NFL: Nickel corner run! Brownlee will take on all comers in coverage, lacking great size and speed but compensating with good experience, coverage savvy and an intense focus.
CBS Sports: B-. Confident and feisty CB who can play inside or the perimeter. Not overly twitchy. Nice mix of physicality and athleticism at the line and during the route. Tackling is average at best. Same with ball skills and overall athletic skill set. Not tremendous anywhere but doesn’t have a clear flaw.
ESPN: Brownlee Jr. gives the Titans depth, especially at nickel cornerback behind Roger McCreary. Tennessee met with Brownlee at the Senior Bowl and had him in for a 30 visit. Defense is clearly a priority for the Titans as they've addressed that side of the ball with the last three picks. Brownlee lands in an ideal situation where he can learn behind L’Jarius Sneed and Chidobe Awuzie and play for noted defensive back specialist Dennard Wilson.
NFL Absolutely Not Fake News: Almost got his toe bitten off by a snapping turtle.
Round 6, Pick 182 - Jha’Quan Jackson, WR, Tulane:
NFL: It felt like Jackson was among the leaders in Senior Bowl practice receptions. Interestingly, I felt he was underused at Tulane, as Jackson has good quickness to uncover and make people miss as a smaller-framed slot receiver. He and teammate Tyjae Spears are reunited in Nashville.
CBS Sports: B+. Small somewhat twitchy vertical threat. Not as ridiculous changing direction as his size would indicate but has electric burst and speed. Minuscule catch radius but flashed some bounce to go up and get it at times, although physicality and longer CBs give him problems.
ESPN: Jackson gives the Titans depth at slot receiver and another player that can be in the mix as a punt returner. Titans coach Brian Callahan expressed a need for someone to step up as a slot receiver when asked about wideouts in the draft. Jackson will compete with Kyle Philips, Mason Kinsey, and Kearis Jackson for a roster spot and the opportunity to contribute from the slot. He was a college teammate of Titans running back Tyjae Spears at Tulane. Jackson is also the nephew of Hall of Fame Baltimore Ravens safety Ed Reed.
NFL Absolutely Not Fake News: He had to come up with all these draft facts under duress.
Round 7, Pick 242 - James Williams, S, Miami:
NFL: A long, fairly rangy athlete who spent more time at deep safety than he did in the box, Williams will be tried as a linebacker. His unusual dimensions and skill set might make him a sleeper.
CBS Sports: A-. Has some wild tackling misses on film but also counters with impact plays behind/near the line or at the intermediate level in coverage. Enormous size and length for the safety spot and will set the tone in many games with his powerful tackling. Not incredibly twitched up but moves reasonably well for his size.
ESPN: At this point, teams draft for traits. Williams played as a box safety at Miami but some teams envision him as a linebacker after seeing him work at that position at the Senior Bowl. That falls in line with the versatility that defensive coordinator Dennard Wilson said he wants. Wilson also said he wants the defense to be aggressive which is something that Williams showcased in college. Tennessee could also use him on special teams.
NFL Absolutely Not Fake News: Simply cannot believe that Shrek 2 is 20 years old this year. WTF.
Round 7, Pick 252 - Jaylen Harrell, DE, Michigan:
NFL: Harrell is a broad-framed linebacker with rush skills and an alpha-dog mentality. His performance in the national title game was great, and he could be a sub-package defender with a unique job description.
CBS Sports: A. Old-school outside linebacker who can sink in coverage or attack the outside shoulder of the tackle. Smooth, athletic movements to comfortably do either. Shows glimpses of pass-rush promises just doesn’t diversify his rushes enough. Must get stronger but does set sturdy edge. Young ascending player.
ESPN: Five of the seven Titans picks have been on defense. Harrell's father, James, spent eight seasons in the NFL and played one season in the USFL. Jaylen Harrell started all 15 games for Michigan in its national championship season and adds to the Titans' depth at outside linebacker. He'll compete primarily with Harold Landry III, Arden Key, Rashad Weaver, and Caleb Murphy for a chance to be in the edge rotation.
NFL Absolutely Not Fake News: Has band T-Shirts from the 80’s and 90’s.
2024.05.13 00:12 Trash_Tia A dead boy has been hunting me down my whole life. On my 18th birthday, I finally understand why.
I've always been bound to death.
On my eighth birthday, a shadow strode into my house and shot me and my family dead. I remember it vividly, every detail, every angle, etched and stained and carved into my memory.
I sat very still with my knees to my chest, my gaze glued to my siblings.
Lily and PJ looked like they were sleeping, and I could almost believe it.
I didn't look at the shadow.
From the comfort of my knees, I waited for my brother to lift his head.
But his body was so limp, so still, every part of him faltering. My sister’s head was nestled in his shoulder, thick beads of red running down her face.
They're just sleeping.
I could tell myself they were— as long as I didn't look at the splatter of scarlet staining the back of the couch and pooling at their feet.
BANG.
Mom’s body dropped onto the ground.
I lunged forwards, slamming my hands over my ears.
BANG.
PJ’s head slumped forwards, a teasing smile still frozen on his lips.
BANG.
Lily gently tipped into PJ, like she was going to sleep.
Before she closed her eyes, Mom told me to run.
I can't remember how long I stayed under the shattered remnants of Mom’s favorite table. The shadow was waiting for me to move, to make a noise.
I watched booted feet crunch through glass, getting closer and closer, and slowly, fight or flight began to take over.
Making it halfway across the living room, my palms slick with my mother’s blood, I thought I was going to live.
Cruel fingers wound their way through my hair and shoved me to my knees. I remember the phantom legs of a spider creeping down the back of my neck when the shadow with no face dragged the barrel of his gun down my spine.
“Turn around.”
The shadow had a voice.
When I didn't move, the protruding metal stabbed into my neck.
“Turn around, kid!”
I did, very slowly.
Behind him, my siblings still weren't moving.
They were asleep.
Lily was still smiling, strawberry blonde ringlets stained red.
I couldn't see PJ’S face anymore.
BANG.
I didn't feel the gunshot.
I didn't feel anything.
Looking down, I glimpsed slowly spreading red blossoming like a flower.
It felt like being cut from strings.
I hit the ground, just like my mother, my body felt heavy and wrong.
Paralysed.
I remember being unable to scream, unable to cry, the salty taste of metal filling my mouth. It was like being winded. Rolling onto my side, all I could see was flickering candlelight.
The air was thick, so hard to breathe.
I rolled onto my back trying to suck in air.
The shadow took a step back, opened the front door, and bled into the night.
I don't remember the pain, and I don't remember dying. I couldn't breathe, couldn't conjure words in my mouth.
I felt warm and sticky, lying in my own blood.
I think I tried to move.
But I was so tired.
I’m not sure what death feels like, because it's like going to sleep.
I remember my last shuddering breaths, a lulling darkness beginning to swallow me up. I don't know why I wasn't afraid.
Oblivion almost felt like I was sinking into lukewarm depths on a Summer’s day.
Oblivion wasn't pain, and there was a peaceful inevitability to it.
It was endless nothing, a nothing I found myself gravitating towards. But before I could envelope myself in that darkness, it was spitting me back out.
The next thing I knew, I was in a white room, a slow beeping sound tearing me from slumber. I had a vague memory of slow spreading roses blossoming across my shirt, like summer flowers blooming.
Everything was white.
The walls, the ceiling, and my clothes.
Sensation hit me in slow waves.
Exhaustion.
I felt it tightening its grip around my brain, dragging me back onto a mountain of pillows when I tried to jump up. My Aunt May was sitting next to me on a plastic chair, her warm fingers entangled in mine. Aunt May and Mom were practically twins, with the same thick red hair and pale skin.
Mom wore her hair in a casual ponytail, while May preferred a strict bun.
I had to bite back the urge to yank my hand away.
Aunt May was asleep, used tissues filling her lap.
There was a nurse pottering around, checking my vitals and prodding my arms. My eyes felt heavy. I had to blink several times to keep myself awake.
“Charlie?”
The nurse’s voice was like wind-chimes.
I pretended not to notice her forced lipstick smile, the way she stood with her arms folded, staring at me like I was one of my cousin’s experiments. “You were in an accident, sweetie,” the nurse spoke up. I could see her trembling hands. “Just, um, try and rest, okay?”
I wanted to ask where my family was, but I already knew the answer.
I think she knew that too.
“You died, Charlie.” The nurse’s voice was eerily cold. “You were dead for thirteen minutes.”
She took slow steps towards me, her eyes growing frenzied, like she couldn't understand me, like I was a puzzle she could not solve– and it was driving her crazy. I could see it in her twitching hands, her wobbling lips that were trying and failing to appear stoic.
“In fact, I just pulled you out of the morgue, honey. I opened up your body bag that I had just zipped up, and told your aunt that you were a miracle I just… can’t understand.” The nurse sounded like she was trying to choke down a laugh, or maybe a sob.
“Charlotte, you were pronounced dead at 3:02am from a gunshot wound to the chest.” Taking a slow, sobering breath, the nurse tried to smile. “The bullet went through the right ventricle of your heart and severely damaged your left lung, rendering you unable to breathe. Your heart stopped, and after four attempts to resuscitate, we called it.”
Something slimy wound its way up my throat when she began to pace the room. “I… did all the paperwork. It took me two minutes. Your death certificate was signed, and your body was taken to the morgue to be prepped for transportation. Then I had my lunch. Tuna salad with a protein milkshake. I’m not a fan of the chocolate flavor.”
She shook her head. “Anyway, when I came back to you, you were awake inside your body bag.” Her voice was starting to break. “You were…um, alive, and asked me for apple soda.”
The nurse moved closer, and yet kept her distance.
I could feel myself moving back, panic writhing through me.
“So.” The nurse spoke calmly. “How the fuck are you still alive, Charlie?”
I think I passed out after that.
When I woke up again, my head a lot less heavier, the nurse was gone.
Slowly, my foggy brain began to find itself and connect dots.
My mouth was dry, full of cotton.
There was a sudden tightness, a sharp and cruel sting in my wrists.
Something sharp was protruding into my flesh, and no matter how many times I violently wrenched my arm, it was stuck. It didn't feel right to be able to breathe so easily.
I knew the second I woke that my Mom was dead.
Lily and PJ were dead, and it was like losing them all over again.
As clarity came over me, I found my voice, a strangled cry escaping my lips.
“Get it out.” I whispered in a shrill cry.
Tugging at the IV in my wrist, I tried to yank the needle from my skin.
“Get it out!” I shrieked, my gaze glued to the tiny spots of blood staining the insertion point.
I could see it again.
So much blood.
Mom was curled up on the floor, lying in slow spreading red that wouldn't stop, seeping across her beaded rug.
She was all over me, slick on my skin and caked in my fingernails.
I couldn't wash her off of me.
“You're okay, Charlotte.”
Aunt May’s voice came from my right, stabling me to reality.
The world started to move again, started to make sense again, when she cupped my cheeks and told me to breathe. When I opened my mouth to ask where my family were, she lightly shook her head and I swallowed my words. Aunt May handed me a glass of water, and I drained it in one gulp.
She told me I was a miracle.
Aunt May didn't say much, and when she did, she broke into sobs.
Her eyes were raw from crying, clinging onto me, her shuddery voice reassuring me that I was going to be okay.
She told me I would be living with her from now on, before wrapping me into a hug and leaving to get coffee.
Once my aunt was gone, another nurse came to prod my IV.
I tried to sleep, but the uncomfortable tightness of the needle sticking into my skin and the sterile white lights in my eyes made it impossible. I waited for grief to catch up with me, drowning me in a hollow oblivion I wouldn't be able to claw myself out of. But I didn't feel sad. I didn't feel angry.
I wanted to know why my family were dead.
I wanted to know why I was breathing, and their skin was ice cold.
Rotting.
The sudden image of maggots crawling up my brother’s nose sent me lurching into a sitting position, my stomach heaving. Reaching for my glass of water, it was empty. The sensation of throwing up felt familiar, almost comforting.
Mom was always with me when I was sick, holding my hair back and lulling my hysteria with reassuring murmurs.
I was frowning at the trash can by the door, my cotton candy brain trying to figure out if I would be able to make it in time, when a small voice drifted from the doorway, startling me.
“I don't want you to come live with us.”
My cousin was peeking through the door, hiding behind a shock of dark brown curls. Jude was the only brunette in our family. The rest of us were redheads.
I wasn't sure why he was dressed up like a ghost, draped in a white cloak that was way too big for him. Jude was a weird kid. His mother, and my auntie, had inherited the family house, so in his mind, that made him superior.
Jude made it clear he didn't like his cousins, refusing to let us play with him and banning us from family gatherings.
When the adults were drinking cocktails and losing their awareness, Jude ordered us around. The times we did play with him, our cousin showed us his spider collection, or the raccoon brain he kept in a jar. PJ was convinced our younger cousin was a serial killer. Several months earlier, he'd happily showed us the roadkill he'd been growing bacteria on under his bed.
Jude’s ‘experiments’ were worrying.
He stuffed mushrooms down my brother’s ears while he was sleeping, to, and I quote, “Recreate The Last Of Us.”
When Lily had a nosebleed during Thanksgiving dinner, Jude collected all her bloody tissues and refused to tell us where he'd put them, and what he had done with them. Fast-forward two months, and I found them under a nest of spiders. Jude was trying to adapt the spiders to be able to feed on human blood. I was surprised my cousin hadn't immediately demanded to see my siblings’ dead bodies for autopsy.
Jude stepped into the room, shuffling his feet.
“I'm sorry about Lily, PJ, and Aunt Ivy.” He mumbled, glaring at the floor tiles.
My cousin made no move to offer real sympathy, instead speaking to the floor.
“But I don't want you to come live with us.” Jude lifted his head, looking me dead in the eye. “I don't like you, Charlie. I want you to stay away.”
Before I could reply, he stepped back like I was diseased.
“You should be dead.” Jude grumbled.
He scowled at me, getting my age purposely wrong as usual before running off.
“Happy 68th birthday.”
I was six months older than him.
In Jude’s eyes, I was ready for retirement.
Still, though, my cousin was right.
I was stone cold dead, and then I was somehow alive.
Which was wrong.
Growing up, I realized Death was not so subtly attempting to fix his mistake.
It started small. I'd choke on things I wasn't supposed to choke on.
Chips.
Candy.
Ice cream.
Aunt May had to perform the heimlich manoeuvre when I choked on a piece of chicken. I thought I was just really unlucky, but then I locked myself in a freezer that didn't have a lock, and almost drowned in the local swimming pool, catching my foot in stray netting.
At the summer fair, Jude convinced me to try apple bobbing, only for my head to conveniently get stuck underwater.
It started to make sense.
I was supposed to die with my family that night, and death was out to get me.
Death started to get clever, changing his tactic. Instead of using everyday things to try to kill me, he sent reinforcements.
I turned twelve years old, and my aunt threw me a huge party, inviting all my classmates. Aunt May was rich, rich.
Mom never explained it, but our grandparents left everything to May.
The house was like a palace, a labyrinth of floors I was yet to explore, and two swimming pools.
I was in the kitchen cutting myself a slice of cake, when, out of nowhere, a dead boy came rushing at me with one of my aunt’s favorite kitchen knives.
A dead boy who I immediately recognised.
Wren Oliver.
Several years prior, he'd gone missing from his parents' yard. The town launched a full investigation, only to find his body in a ditch a week later.
So, Death had sent a footsoldier.
Hiding under a hooded sweatshirt, Wren appeared older, like he had grown up with me. But there was a startling vacancy in his expression that drew the breath from my lungs, freezing me in place. Wren’s death was announced as an accident, though his wounds suggested the opposite, dried blood smearing his right temple and a cavernous hole in his chest, his clothes painted, stained, in bright red, glued in sticky mounds clinging to him.
The boy’s eyes were wild, feral, like an animal.
His hair was longer, a mess of reddish curls matted to his forehead.
Lip split into a demented giggle.
I remember taking a slow step back, my gaze glued to the knife.
Wren’s fingers were wrapped around the handle like he knew exactly how to use it, how to plunge it into my heart and kill me for good. He moved like a predator, zero self awareness or recognition, only driven to kill me.
The dead boy prided himself in slow, intimidating steps, shoving me against the wall and dragging the blade of the knife down the curve of my throat.
His eyes confused me, writhing with hatred that was artificial, programmed into him as Death’s official soldier.
He didn't speak, only smiled, revelling in my fear. I could tell it thrilled him, my trembling hands, my sharp, heavy breaths I couldn't control. Squeezing my eyes shut, I waited to finally die.
I waited for the pain, and to lose my breath once again.
But death was playing with me.
When I opened my eyes, the dead boy was gone, and I was on my knees, screaming.
“Wren Oliver is trying to kill me!" I managed to hiss.
My aunt knelt in front of me, her expression crumpling.
*Sweetie,” She spoke softly, squeezing my hands. Aunt May was trying to appear calm for my sake, but I could tell she was scared, her frantic eyes searching mine. “Wren Oliver is dead.”
The kids surrounding me started to giggle, whispering among themselves.
In the corner of my eye, my cousin was leaning against the door, mid eye roll.
When my aunt was ushering kids back to the pool, Jude came to crouch in front of me. Ever since I started living with him, he'd made sure to keep his distance.
This time, though, Jude leaned uncomfortably close, a sparkle in his eyes I had never seen before. Inclining his head, he rocked back and forth on his heels, prodding me in the forehead.
“If you see the dead boy again, can you tell me?” His lips curved into a smile.
“I did see him.” I gritted out. “I’m not lying.”
Jude shrugged. “I never said you didn't,” he lowered his voice into a whisper, “I wanna know when you see him again.”
“Why?”
His lips curved into a smirk.
“So, I can catch him.”
My cousin got closer, his breath tickling my cheek.
“I seeeeeeee dead people.”
After that incident, death left me alone for a while.
I was fifteen, walking through the forest with a friend, catching fireflies in bell jars. Aunt May was lucky to live so close to the forest, the entrance just outside her back door. When we were littles, PJ would drag Lily and I down the trail to escape Jude’s weird experiments.
I decided to invite Jem Littlewood on a summer walk.
Jem was cute, but in a dorky way. He was chronically clumsy, and dressed like he'd been spat out of a John Hughes movie. We hiked all the way to the end of the river and had a picnic, watching the sun set over the horizon. I was having conflicting feelings for this guy.
Jem was obsessed with fireflies.
Though he seemed more interested in photographing them than me.
The guy couldn't seem to sit still, jumping to his feet to marvel at tiny specks of light dancing in the air.
“I'm just going to take photos!” Jem beamed, holding up his camera.
I had to bite back the urge to say, “Don't you have enough photos?”
I nodded, and he turned and sprinted back down the trail.
Before his footsteps ground to a sudden halt.
At first, I thought he was snapping polaroids.
When I got closer, though, blinking in the eerie dark, I caught something.
Bending down, I picked up a bell jar still spilling fireflies.
Further down the trail, Jem was lying crumpled in the dirt, his camera smashed to pieces next to him, blood running in thick rivulets down his temple. There he was. Leaning against a tree, his arms folded, was the ghost boy. Wren Oliver was growing up with me. Now, a teenager, and yet his face was carved into something else entirely, more of a monster, slight points to his ears and too-sharp teeth, eyes ignited.
Wren didn't look like a ghost boy anymore.
Death had dressed him in shackles of ivy, a crown of glass and bone forced onto his head, entangled in his curls. Death was torturing him.
Wren’s body was its canvas, and every time I got away, he was punished, painting his failures across scarred skin.
I should have been running for my life, but I was mesmerised by each symbol cruelly carved into his neck.
The boy did a slow head incline, like he couldn't believe I was standing in front of him.
His slow spreading smile caught me off guard.
I remembered how to run, stumbling over my feet.
But I couldn't move.
The burning hatred that death had filled him with, was stronger, hollowing him out completely. I managed two shaky steps, before I felt him, an unearthly force winding its way around my spine. This time, he didn't hesitate.
I watched his mouth move, a single curve of his upper lip that wrenched my body from my control, slamming me against a tree. There was something around my throat, choking the breath from my lungs, a thick fog spreading over my eyes.
Following his mouth curving into silent letters, I could feel my feet slowly leaving the ground, my legs dangling.
I was floating.
Hovering off of the ground, suspended by his words.
Through half lidded eyes, I caught the glint of a blade between his fist, but I couldn't move, couldn't scream.
He was drowning me, bleeding into my blood, spider webbing and expanding in my brain without moving a muscle.
Instead, the ghost boy stood silently, running his thumb down the teeth of his knife while he ripped my lungs apart.
It was like suffocating, sinking into that peaceful oblivion I met at eight years old.
This time, though, the darkness was starving.
“Charlie?”
My eyes found daylight, a scream clawing out of my mouth.
“Charlie, it's past curfew!”
Wren flinched, his stoic expression crumpling.
The dead boy’s lips moved again, this time in a curse.
Fuck.
“Charlotte!”
Staggering back, Wren’s eyes widened and the suffocating hold on me severed.
His head snapped in the direction my aunt was coming from.
“Charlie, answer me right now.”
He hesitated, his bare feet pivoting in the dirt, like he was considering finishing me off. Wren studied me with lazy eyes, sucking on his bottom lip. When my aunt's footsteps got louder, branches snapping under her shoes, something contorted in the boy’s face.
Fear.
I guessed the boy wasn't expecting other humans to intrude.
Wren fell over himself, shuffling on his hands and knees, before diving to his feet. When he turned and ran, I was released, slipping to the ground, trying and failing to draw in breath. I barely felt the impact, only a dull thudding pain. I could hear the ghost boy’s footsteps, his uneven, shuddery breaths as he catapulted into a run.
Under a late setting sun, I watched his dancing shadow disappear into the trees.
Mission unsuccessful, I guessed.
When I was fully conscious, Aunt May was checking over Jem, helping him sit up.
“Where did he go?” I managed to get out, scanning the darkness for Wren.
“He's okay, just concussed.” May whispered, dialling 911.
My aunt applied a dressing to Jem’s wound, ignoring the boy’s hisses.
“Keep still.” she murmured, smoothing his bandaid. “What happened, Charlotte?”
“She pushed me over.” Jem groaned, shuffling away from me. When my aunt told him to stay calm, he straightened up, leaning against the tree. “The psycho bitch tried to fucking kill me!”
When my aunt's gaze flicked to me, I shook my head.
“It was Wren Oliver.” I gritted, teetering on hysteria. I could tell she didn't believe me, but I couldn't stop myself.
I prodded at my throat, clawing for the indentations where his phantom fingers snaked around my neck, squeezing the breath from my lungs.
But there was nothing.
I could feel my mind starting to unravel. I nodded to my disgruntled classmate trying to dodge my aunt’s prodding.
“Ow, ow, ow! That stings!
“He knocked Jem out.” I managed. “Then he tried to kill me.”
Jem surprised me with a scoff. “You're seriously blaming your psychotic break on a dead kid?”
Aunt May pursed her lips, motioning for Jem to be quiet. Judging from her face, however, she agreed with the boy.
May forced a smile, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. “Okay. Can you, uh, describe the boy to me, Charlotte?”
“He was wearing a crown,” I said, “And he looked my age.”
Aunt May cocked her head, and I saw real worry, like she was trying not to freak out. Jem made a snorting noise.
“I'm sorry, he was wearing a crown?”
“Yes!” I insisted, getting progressively more frustrated.
I tried to jump up, only for my aunt to gently lower me back down. “I know it sounds crazy, but death has sent Wren Oliver to kill me, just like my family. He tried to kill me when I was twelve, too!”
Jem let out a bitter laugh. “Your niece is a fucking wackadoodle.”
Aunt May’s eyes darkened. She grabbed my shoulders, her nails stabbing into my skin. “Charlie, I want you to listen to me, okay?” When my eyes found the rapidly darkening sky, my aunt forced me to look at her.
“Charlotte!”
She was as scared as me, her voice shuddering.
“Wren Oliver is dead.” My aunt said firmly, shaking me. Even then, though, I wasn't even looking at her. I was trying to find his ignited eyes lighting up the dark. “Wren died at eight years old in a terrible accident, and you can't keep using him as an excuse for your mental trauma.” There was something twitching in her expression I was trying to make sense of. When I risked a look at Jem, the boy was staring at me dazedly– like I really was crazy.
Aunt May pressed her face into my shoulder, and I could feel her tears soaking into my shirt. She was trying to hold it together, trying to understand.
“Charlie, I know you lost your family,” she whispered. “But you and Wren Oliver are not the same. You survived, and he didn't.” Her voice splintered.
“You need to come to terms with that, okay?”
When I didn't respond, she pinched my chin, forcing me to look at her.
“Charlotte.”
Aunt May’s voice turned cold. “I ignored this when you were a kid, but if you continue to use this poor boy as a coping mechanism, I will have no choice but to send you to a specialist.”
When Jem was taken away by paramedics, Aunt May held my hand, squeezing my fingers for dear life.
I caught her gaze scanning the tree's around us, delving into twisting oblivion. Every little noise sent her twisting around. She was looking for something.
“I'm going to get you help.” Aunt May said in a low murmur when we were back at the house. Jude was sitting on the kitchen counter, legs swinging. I could feel his penetrating gaze burning into the back of my head.
Aunt May set a cup of cocoa on the table.
“No more fairytales.”
By the time I was eighteen, I had bitten three therapists.
They refused to believe that death was coming to reclaim my soul, and was using a dead boy to do his dirty work.
For my 16th birthday, I braced myself to come face to face with Wren Oliver’s ghost.
I wasn't even in town, staying at a friend's house.
But dead boys, and especially dead boys moulded into Death’s personal soldiers, could materialise anywhere.
I locked every door in the house, and taped up my friend’s window.
Nothing happened.
On my seventeenth birthday, I was sick in bed with gastritis.
Still no ghost boy.
Death seemed to have finally left me alone.
On my eighteenth birthday, I was stuffing books in my locker when my cousin popped up out of nowhere, scowling as usual. After an unexpected growth spurt and losing a tonne of baby fat, my cousin had scaled the high school hierarchy, swapping his weird experiments for a varsity jacket and experimenting with his sexuality.
The two of us had come to an unspoken truce.
I kept quiet about his spider collection to his popular friends, and he tolerated my existence until I left for college.
“Your surprise party is cancelled.”
Jude leaned against my locker, running a hand through thick dark hair tucked under a baseball cap. Jude never admitted it, but he was definitely embarrassed of being the odd one out.
My siblings may be dead, but they were still redheads.
I pulled off his cap with a smile, throwing it in his face. “Sure it is.”
My cousin’s eyes widened. He lost his slick bravado, grabbing for his cap.
“Hey!”
According to my cousin, my party was unexpectedly cancelled every year.
I wasn't sure if it was his weird superiority complex, or just plain jealousy, but it was getting exhausting.
Jude followed me down the hallway, matching my stride.
“Can you just not come home tonight?”
I quickened my pace. “It's only a party. I'm having some friends over, and no, we won't go anywhere near your room.”
“No, I mean.” Jude stepped in front of me, and for the first time in a while, he wasn't trying to hide disdain for me.
His dark eyes pinned me in place for a moment, the world around us coming to a halt. Sound bled away, and all I heard were his slow breaths. There was something there, an unexplainable twitch in his eyes and lips, that twisted my gut.
Jude stepped closer, his lip curling. He shoved me back, losing his facade.
“Stay the fuck away from the house tonight.” He said, and his voice, his tone, was enough to send shivers creeping down my spine. Jude had always hid behind a ten foot wall in his mind. It was jarring to see something in him finally start to splinter. Fuck. I thought.
This kid had serious Mommy issues.
I blinked, and the world resumed, kids pushing past us.
Jude seemed to catch himself, slipping back under his mask.
“I'm having friends over,” he rolled his eyes, “Your presence will ruin the vibe.”
“It's my birthday?”
He groaned, tipping his head back. “Yes, I know. But–”
“I think you can deal with the attention off of you for one night, Jude.”
“Will Wren Oliver be there too?” Jem Littlewood hollered.
Jude didn't respond for a moment, his lip curling.
“Shut the fuck up.” He spat at Jem, who immediately backed down. With an audience this time, Jude forced an award winning smile. “Fine.” His lips split into a grin I knew he hated. My cousin clamped his hand on my shoulder, hard enough to hurt. I could feel his fingers pinching the material of my jacket. “Have it your way, dude.”
Jude backed away with a two fingered salute.
“Happy 78th birthday!”
In a sense, I wish I listened to my cousin.
My party was a success, sort of.
Four of us, a crate of beers, and no sign of my cousin.
I was mildly tipsy, sitting on the edge of the pool, dangling my legs in the water when my friend demanded more beers.
I was also hungry for cake, so I stumbled inside in search of the goods.
The house was dark, lit up in dazzling blue from the pool's lights reflecting through the windows. Aunt May was in her office on the ground floor, and Jude was getting high in his room. In my drunken state, I found myself marvelling my aunt's house, and how much of it was left unexplored.
For example, in the foyer, past the spiral staircase she’d had custom made, was an elevator I had never questioned.
There was a girl my age standing on the staircase.
She was frozen, mid run, dressed in ragged jeans and t-shirt.
Everything about her stuck out to me, bringing me to a sobering halt.
The girl reminded me of my sister– or at least, if my sister had ever grown up.
I wasn't sure if I was drunk or hallucinating.
Her flower crown was pretty…
Lily had grown wings.
I was slowly moving towards her, a sudden bang sounding from the kitchen.
The bang of something shattering on the floor.
Twisting around, I found myself gravitating towards warm golden light.
The first thing I saw was the refrigerator door hanging open, and someone, no, something, rooting around inside it.
Glued to the spot, I dazedly watched them grab milk, guzzling it down, and then soda, cracking open each can and sucking them dry, before carving their fingers into my birthday cake.
But I wasn't looking at the spillage of food seeping across the floor. Instead, my gaze found a crown of antlers, both human and animal bone entangled with dead flowers and human remains glued to a head of familiar matted brown curls. There was something sticking from battered and bruised flesh, twin gaping slits sliced through a torn shirt resembling glass wings that were not yet formed, reminding me of a butterfly.
Wings.
But not the wings I dreamed of as a kid. These things were unnatural mounds that both did and didn't make sense on a human boy. I could see the trauma of them slicing through his flesh, monstrous, looming things protruding from what was left of a human spine.
Human, and yet I couldn't call his beautifully grotesque face human.
Wren Oliver had grown up with me, now an adult.
Eighteen years old.
His clothes confused me, a single white shirt and shorts.
Wren’s feet were bare, battered and bruised, blood smearing my aunt's tiles.
Angel.
Death had turned his footsoldier, and my future killer, into an angel.
But there was nothing angelic about the dead boy, his body and mind sculpted and moulded into Death’s own.
The boy no longer resembled a human, feral eyes and a manic smile, choking down pieces of cake. His face had been contorted into a monster, gnashing teeth and sharp points in his ears, a sickly tinge to malnourished skin.
And that's when it hit me, watching him stuff himself with food.
Something slimy inched its way up my throat.
The boy didn't move. I don't even think he'd noticed me, gorging himself on anything he could get his hands on.
Chicken, raw bacon, leftover salad.
When he moved onto cupcakes, licking frosting from his fingers, I glimpsed markings on his arms, a language I didn't understand, carved into him.
His wrists were shackled, bound, in entangled iron and vine, iron that was ingrained into his skin, vines and flowers and ivy entangling his bones, that were part of him, polluting his blood. Slowly, my eyes found stab wounds splitting open his torso.
Raw flesh, where his skin had been torched, melting, and then merging, ripped apart and put back together over and over again.
I found his heart, the gaping cavern in his chest where it should be.
And it was.
Marked, carved, and branded with a symbol resembling an X.
Wren Oliver was not dead.
But, just like me, he should have been.
I remember saying his name, my voice slurred slightly.
I didn't drink that much, but I could barely coerce words, my head spinning.
Wren’s neck snapped towards me, his eyes narrowing with resentment I couldn't understand, hatred that seemed to puppeteer him. Slowly tilting his head, the boy’s lips split into a grin, eyes filled, polluted, with mania.
I could see where his lips had been stitched shut, and then ripped open.
“Hi.”
He held up his hand in an awkward wave.
When one of my friends stumbled into the kitchen, Wren reacted on impulse.
He picked up a knife from the counter, throwing it like a dart, straight through the guy’s throat.
Something shattered inside my mind.
Ignoring my friend bleeding out, Wren stumbled over himself, abandoning his feast. He took a single step towards me, backing me against the wall, coming so close, close enough for me to feel his very real breath grazing my cheeks. Just like when he was a kid, he traced the teeth of his blade down my throat. I wasn't expecting him to burst out laughing, trembling with hysteria.
His eyes were wild, feral and wrong, almost euphoric.
With what all I could only recognise as relief.
BANG.
I was barely aware of the gunshot.
The bullet went straight through his head, the winged boy hitting the ground.
Dead.
I saw the blood stemming around him in a halo before the bleeding pool faltered, seeping back inside his head.
Like rewinding a VCR.
Wren was dead, and then he was alive.
Wren’s body contorted, his chest inflating.
His gasp for air was painful, strangled, eyes opening wide.
Terrified.
“You fucking idiot.”
Jude’s voice sent me twisting around.
My cousin stood in the exact same robes he wore as a child.
The world tipped off kilter, and I was on my knees, then my stomach.
I sunk to the floor, my thoughts swimming.
Jude’s murmur followed me, creeping into the dark.
“I told you not to come home.”
I can't remember how long I was unconscious for.
When I woke, I was dressed in an evening gown, a dress that used to be my mother’s.
My vision cleared, and I found myself sitting in an unfamiliar room resembling an abandoned swimming hall.
The pool itself was empty, the bottom stained revealing scarlet.
There were symbols carved into each tile.
Like a game.
“Sit up straight, Charlotte.”
I was sitting at a banquet.
Jude was in front of me, sipping on wine.
He caught my eye for half a second before averting his gaze.
At the far end of the table sat my aunt May.
Kissing the rim of her glass, her smile was twisted.
“I've been waiting so long to give you your birthday presents, Charlotte. Your memories should be returning soon.”
“Mom.” Jude muttered, hiding behind his glass. “Calm down. You're embarrassing yourself.”
Ignoring my cousin, May tapped her glass with a fork, and in walked my birthday presents.
No, dragged.
By their hair.
Wren Oliver, the dead boy, was in fact my aunt's prisoner.
Behind him, was the girl who looked so much like Lily.
I think that's why my aunt chose her.
Aunt May cleared her throat.
“For a long time, our family has lived among creatures who live in the forest you played inside. In exchange for keeping this town safe, they only ask for small favors. Wayward children who disappear into the woods are good enough payment. Charlie, you and your siblings do not share our inheritance. Your mother never wanted fae children. She wanted you to be human.”
Aunt May’s smile faded.
“After losing my sister, and my niece and nephew, I made a deal to give my last surviving niece 100 years of life.”
Her words were white noise, my gaze glued to my birthday presents. I couldn't call them human anymore.
I couldn't call Wren human, when his face was so beautifully grotesque, painfully hypnotising.
The monstrous things sticking from twin slits in his back were supposed to be wings, except they looked wrong, cruelly protruding from his exposed spine. Under the influence of alcohol earlier, the girl made me smile.
Her wings, to me, looked like one of a real fairy.
In reality, they were torn and shredded apart, bigger than the girl herself.
When she dropped onto her stomach, she was dragged back to her feet, her knees buckling under the weight. Her tiara of flowers and bone looked pretty to me when I saw her on the stairs.
Now, though, I could see the pearly white of a human child's skull forced onto her head, dead flowers threaded through cavernous, gaping eye sockets.
The two of them were violently shoved into the empty pool.
“Jude. Please demonstrate, sweetheart.”
Jude stood, pulling out a gun, and aiming it at the winged girl.
BANG.
The girl’s body hit the tiles, her blood seeping across stained white.
“Now, of course, our king did not give you life for free.” May continued.
“The King demanded a debt, as well as two heirs to join him in his court once your hundred years were complete.”
Her lips quirked into a smile.
“The king is smart. If a child cannot be stolen from the human world, they can, however, be made, moulded and shaped from their human forms, skinned of their humanity through their suffering, leaving a hollowed out shell in the child's place.” She was speaking so casually, ignoring Wren’s whimpers.
“The conversion takes a while. 100 years to birth a fully blooded fae heir, who will lose their human memories, in preparation to join their new family.”
Jude shot Wren in the chest, his eyes empty.
This time, he dropped his weapon, using finger-guns instead.
“Bang.” He deadpanned.
Then the neck.
I watched Wren come back to life, and then die.
Over and over again.
I think at one point, he screamed and cried.
But not now.
He was their puppet on display, dancing for their entertainment.
Half lidded eyes drowned in oblivion found mine, and I understood his hatred.
Before he was shot again.
Stabbed.
Branded and burned, and ripped apart.
At some point, I screamed at them to stop. I couldn't breathe, slamming my hands over my ears and begging them.
Aunt May didn't listen, ordering for my hands to be tied down.
“The King required two human sacrifices to suffer in your place.” She concluded. “For one hundred years.”
Aunt May’s smile was suddenly sad, and she lifted her glass in a toast.
I was watching their blood trickle down each tile in the pool, like every death, every time they suffered, my body became progressively less human.
I felt disgusting. I wasn't supposed to be alive. Every single year of my life, every breath I had taken, was stolen.
Aunt May nodded at me, her lips forming a proud smile. She stood up, and was handed a sacrificial knife.
Climbing into the swimming pool herself, she strode over to Wren.
The boy slumped to the floor, trembling, his knees against his chest.
Aunt May grabbed him by the hair, forcing his head up, and sliced the blade across his throat.
His eyes flicked to me, and I swore he smiled.
Spots of red dotted yellowing tiles, a river trickling under my aunt's heels.
“Happy 78th birthday, Charlotte.”
Last night ended with me being locked in my room.
It's been almost 15 hours, and the door is still locked. Please help me. I'm fucking terrified of what my aunt is planning.
I can't stop shgajing. FycjbfucibFUCK
If she is telling the truth, I shouldn't be here, right??
And I can't stop thinking.
Is Wren Oliver trying to kill me, or himself?
submitted by Trash_Tia to nosleep [link] [comments]
On my eighth birthday, a shadow strode into my house and shot me and my family dead. I remember it vividly, every detail, every angle, etched and stained and carved into my memory.
I sat very still with my knees to my chest, my gaze glued to my siblings.
Lily and PJ looked like they were sleeping, and I could almost believe it.
I didn't look at the shadow.
From the comfort of my knees, I waited for my brother to lift his head.
But his body was so limp, so still, every part of him faltering. My sister’s head was nestled in his shoulder, thick beads of red running down her face.
They're just sleeping.
I could tell myself they were— as long as I didn't look at the splatter of scarlet staining the back of the couch and pooling at their feet.
BANG.
Mom’s body dropped onto the ground.
I lunged forwards, slamming my hands over my ears.
BANG.
PJ’s head slumped forwards, a teasing smile still frozen on his lips.
BANG.
Lily gently tipped into PJ, like she was going to sleep.
Before she closed her eyes, Mom told me to run.
I can't remember how long I stayed under the shattered remnants of Mom’s favorite table. The shadow was waiting for me to move, to make a noise.
I watched booted feet crunch through glass, getting closer and closer, and slowly, fight or flight began to take over.
Making it halfway across the living room, my palms slick with my mother’s blood, I thought I was going to live.
Cruel fingers wound their way through my hair and shoved me to my knees. I remember the phantom legs of a spider creeping down the back of my neck when the shadow with no face dragged the barrel of his gun down my spine.
“Turn around.”
The shadow had a voice.
When I didn't move, the protruding metal stabbed into my neck.
“Turn around, kid!”
I did, very slowly.
Behind him, my siblings still weren't moving.
They were asleep.
Lily was still smiling, strawberry blonde ringlets stained red.
I couldn't see PJ’S face anymore.
BANG.
I didn't feel the gunshot.
I didn't feel anything.
Looking down, I glimpsed slowly spreading red blossoming like a flower.
It felt like being cut from strings.
I hit the ground, just like my mother, my body felt heavy and wrong.
Paralysed.
I remember being unable to scream, unable to cry, the salty taste of metal filling my mouth. It was like being winded. Rolling onto my side, all I could see was flickering candlelight.
The air was thick, so hard to breathe.
I rolled onto my back trying to suck in air.
The shadow took a step back, opened the front door, and bled into the night.
I don't remember the pain, and I don't remember dying. I couldn't breathe, couldn't conjure words in my mouth.
I felt warm and sticky, lying in my own blood.
I think I tried to move.
But I was so tired.
I’m not sure what death feels like, because it's like going to sleep.
I remember my last shuddering breaths, a lulling darkness beginning to swallow me up. I don't know why I wasn't afraid.
Oblivion almost felt like I was sinking into lukewarm depths on a Summer’s day.
Oblivion wasn't pain, and there was a peaceful inevitability to it.
It was endless nothing, a nothing I found myself gravitating towards. But before I could envelope myself in that darkness, it was spitting me back out.
The next thing I knew, I was in a white room, a slow beeping sound tearing me from slumber. I had a vague memory of slow spreading roses blossoming across my shirt, like summer flowers blooming.
Everything was white.
The walls, the ceiling, and my clothes.
Sensation hit me in slow waves.
Exhaustion.
I felt it tightening its grip around my brain, dragging me back onto a mountain of pillows when I tried to jump up. My Aunt May was sitting next to me on a plastic chair, her warm fingers entangled in mine. Aunt May and Mom were practically twins, with the same thick red hair and pale skin.
Mom wore her hair in a casual ponytail, while May preferred a strict bun.
I had to bite back the urge to yank my hand away.
Aunt May was asleep, used tissues filling her lap.
There was a nurse pottering around, checking my vitals and prodding my arms. My eyes felt heavy. I had to blink several times to keep myself awake.
“Charlie?”
The nurse’s voice was like wind-chimes.
I pretended not to notice her forced lipstick smile, the way she stood with her arms folded, staring at me like I was one of my cousin’s experiments. “You were in an accident, sweetie,” the nurse spoke up. I could see her trembling hands. “Just, um, try and rest, okay?”
I wanted to ask where my family was, but I already knew the answer.
I think she knew that too.
“You died, Charlie.” The nurse’s voice was eerily cold. “You were dead for thirteen minutes.”
She took slow steps towards me, her eyes growing frenzied, like she couldn't understand me, like I was a puzzle she could not solve– and it was driving her crazy. I could see it in her twitching hands, her wobbling lips that were trying and failing to appear stoic.
“In fact, I just pulled you out of the morgue, honey. I opened up your body bag that I had just zipped up, and told your aunt that you were a miracle I just… can’t understand.” The nurse sounded like she was trying to choke down a laugh, or maybe a sob.
“Charlotte, you were pronounced dead at 3:02am from a gunshot wound to the chest.” Taking a slow, sobering breath, the nurse tried to smile. “The bullet went through the right ventricle of your heart and severely damaged your left lung, rendering you unable to breathe. Your heart stopped, and after four attempts to resuscitate, we called it.”
Something slimy wound its way up my throat when she began to pace the room. “I… did all the paperwork. It took me two minutes. Your death certificate was signed, and your body was taken to the morgue to be prepped for transportation. Then I had my lunch. Tuna salad with a protein milkshake. I’m not a fan of the chocolate flavor.”
She shook her head. “Anyway, when I came back to you, you were awake inside your body bag.” Her voice was starting to break. “You were…um, alive, and asked me for apple soda.”
The nurse moved closer, and yet kept her distance.
I could feel myself moving back, panic writhing through me.
“So.” The nurse spoke calmly. “How the fuck are you still alive, Charlie?”
I think I passed out after that.
When I woke up again, my head a lot less heavier, the nurse was gone.
Slowly, my foggy brain began to find itself and connect dots.
My mouth was dry, full of cotton.
There was a sudden tightness, a sharp and cruel sting in my wrists.
Something sharp was protruding into my flesh, and no matter how many times I violently wrenched my arm, it was stuck. It didn't feel right to be able to breathe so easily.
I knew the second I woke that my Mom was dead.
Lily and PJ were dead, and it was like losing them all over again.
As clarity came over me, I found my voice, a strangled cry escaping my lips.
“Get it out.” I whispered in a shrill cry.
Tugging at the IV in my wrist, I tried to yank the needle from my skin.
“Get it out!” I shrieked, my gaze glued to the tiny spots of blood staining the insertion point.
I could see it again.
So much blood.
Mom was curled up on the floor, lying in slow spreading red that wouldn't stop, seeping across her beaded rug.
She was all over me, slick on my skin and caked in my fingernails.
I couldn't wash her off of me.
“You're okay, Charlotte.”
Aunt May’s voice came from my right, stabling me to reality.
The world started to move again, started to make sense again, when she cupped my cheeks and told me to breathe. When I opened my mouth to ask where my family were, she lightly shook her head and I swallowed my words. Aunt May handed me a glass of water, and I drained it in one gulp.
She told me I was a miracle.
Aunt May didn't say much, and when she did, she broke into sobs.
Her eyes were raw from crying, clinging onto me, her shuddery voice reassuring me that I was going to be okay.
She told me I would be living with her from now on, before wrapping me into a hug and leaving to get coffee.
Once my aunt was gone, another nurse came to prod my IV.
I tried to sleep, but the uncomfortable tightness of the needle sticking into my skin and the sterile white lights in my eyes made it impossible. I waited for grief to catch up with me, drowning me in a hollow oblivion I wouldn't be able to claw myself out of. But I didn't feel sad. I didn't feel angry.
I wanted to know why my family were dead.
I wanted to know why I was breathing, and their skin was ice cold.
Rotting.
The sudden image of maggots crawling up my brother’s nose sent me lurching into a sitting position, my stomach heaving. Reaching for my glass of water, it was empty. The sensation of throwing up felt familiar, almost comforting.
Mom was always with me when I was sick, holding my hair back and lulling my hysteria with reassuring murmurs.
I was frowning at the trash can by the door, my cotton candy brain trying to figure out if I would be able to make it in time, when a small voice drifted from the doorway, startling me.
“I don't want you to come live with us.”
My cousin was peeking through the door, hiding behind a shock of dark brown curls. Jude was the only brunette in our family. The rest of us were redheads.
I wasn't sure why he was dressed up like a ghost, draped in a white cloak that was way too big for him. Jude was a weird kid. His mother, and my auntie, had inherited the family house, so in his mind, that made him superior.
Jude made it clear he didn't like his cousins, refusing to let us play with him and banning us from family gatherings.
When the adults were drinking cocktails and losing their awareness, Jude ordered us around. The times we did play with him, our cousin showed us his spider collection, or the raccoon brain he kept in a jar. PJ was convinced our younger cousin was a serial killer. Several months earlier, he'd happily showed us the roadkill he'd been growing bacteria on under his bed.
Jude’s ‘experiments’ were worrying.
He stuffed mushrooms down my brother’s ears while he was sleeping, to, and I quote, “Recreate The Last Of Us.”
When Lily had a nosebleed during Thanksgiving dinner, Jude collected all her bloody tissues and refused to tell us where he'd put them, and what he had done with them. Fast-forward two months, and I found them under a nest of spiders. Jude was trying to adapt the spiders to be able to feed on human blood. I was surprised my cousin hadn't immediately demanded to see my siblings’ dead bodies for autopsy.
Jude stepped into the room, shuffling his feet.
“I'm sorry about Lily, PJ, and Aunt Ivy.” He mumbled, glaring at the floor tiles.
My cousin made no move to offer real sympathy, instead speaking to the floor.
“But I don't want you to come live with us.” Jude lifted his head, looking me dead in the eye. “I don't like you, Charlie. I want you to stay away.”
Before I could reply, he stepped back like I was diseased.
“You should be dead.” Jude grumbled.
He scowled at me, getting my age purposely wrong as usual before running off.
“Happy 68th birthday.”
I was six months older than him.
In Jude’s eyes, I was ready for retirement.
Still, though, my cousin was right.
I was stone cold dead, and then I was somehow alive.
Which was wrong.
Growing up, I realized Death was not so subtly attempting to fix his mistake.
It started small. I'd choke on things I wasn't supposed to choke on.
Chips.
Candy.
Ice cream.
Aunt May had to perform the heimlich manoeuvre when I choked on a piece of chicken. I thought I was just really unlucky, but then I locked myself in a freezer that didn't have a lock, and almost drowned in the local swimming pool, catching my foot in stray netting.
At the summer fair, Jude convinced me to try apple bobbing, only for my head to conveniently get stuck underwater.
It started to make sense.
I was supposed to die with my family that night, and death was out to get me.
Death started to get clever, changing his tactic. Instead of using everyday things to try to kill me, he sent reinforcements.
I turned twelve years old, and my aunt threw me a huge party, inviting all my classmates. Aunt May was rich, rich.
Mom never explained it, but our grandparents left everything to May.
The house was like a palace, a labyrinth of floors I was yet to explore, and two swimming pools.
I was in the kitchen cutting myself a slice of cake, when, out of nowhere, a dead boy came rushing at me with one of my aunt’s favorite kitchen knives.
A dead boy who I immediately recognised.
Wren Oliver.
Several years prior, he'd gone missing from his parents' yard. The town launched a full investigation, only to find his body in a ditch a week later.
So, Death had sent a footsoldier.
Hiding under a hooded sweatshirt, Wren appeared older, like he had grown up with me. But there was a startling vacancy in his expression that drew the breath from my lungs, freezing me in place. Wren’s death was announced as an accident, though his wounds suggested the opposite, dried blood smearing his right temple and a cavernous hole in his chest, his clothes painted, stained, in bright red, glued in sticky mounds clinging to him.
The boy’s eyes were wild, feral, like an animal.
His hair was longer, a mess of reddish curls matted to his forehead.
Lip split into a demented giggle.
I remember taking a slow step back, my gaze glued to the knife.
Wren’s fingers were wrapped around the handle like he knew exactly how to use it, how to plunge it into my heart and kill me for good. He moved like a predator, zero self awareness or recognition, only driven to kill me.
The dead boy prided himself in slow, intimidating steps, shoving me against the wall and dragging the blade of the knife down the curve of my throat.
His eyes confused me, writhing with hatred that was artificial, programmed into him as Death’s official soldier.
He didn't speak, only smiled, revelling in my fear. I could tell it thrilled him, my trembling hands, my sharp, heavy breaths I couldn't control. Squeezing my eyes shut, I waited to finally die.
I waited for the pain, and to lose my breath once again.
But death was playing with me.
When I opened my eyes, the dead boy was gone, and I was on my knees, screaming.
“Wren Oliver is trying to kill me!" I managed to hiss.
My aunt knelt in front of me, her expression crumpling.
*Sweetie,” She spoke softly, squeezing my hands. Aunt May was trying to appear calm for my sake, but I could tell she was scared, her frantic eyes searching mine. “Wren Oliver is dead.”
The kids surrounding me started to giggle, whispering among themselves.
In the corner of my eye, my cousin was leaning against the door, mid eye roll.
When my aunt was ushering kids back to the pool, Jude came to crouch in front of me. Ever since I started living with him, he'd made sure to keep his distance.
This time, though, Jude leaned uncomfortably close, a sparkle in his eyes I had never seen before. Inclining his head, he rocked back and forth on his heels, prodding me in the forehead.
“If you see the dead boy again, can you tell me?” His lips curved into a smile.
“I did see him.” I gritted out. “I’m not lying.”
Jude shrugged. “I never said you didn't,” he lowered his voice into a whisper, “I wanna know when you see him again.”
“Why?”
His lips curved into a smirk.
“So, I can catch him.”
My cousin got closer, his breath tickling my cheek.
“I seeeeeeee dead people.”
After that incident, death left me alone for a while.
I was fifteen, walking through the forest with a friend, catching fireflies in bell jars. Aunt May was lucky to live so close to the forest, the entrance just outside her back door. When we were littles, PJ would drag Lily and I down the trail to escape Jude’s weird experiments.
I decided to invite Jem Littlewood on a summer walk.
Jem was cute, but in a dorky way. He was chronically clumsy, and dressed like he'd been spat out of a John Hughes movie. We hiked all the way to the end of the river and had a picnic, watching the sun set over the horizon. I was having conflicting feelings for this guy.
Jem was obsessed with fireflies.
Though he seemed more interested in photographing them than me.
The guy couldn't seem to sit still, jumping to his feet to marvel at tiny specks of light dancing in the air.
“I'm just going to take photos!” Jem beamed, holding up his camera.
I had to bite back the urge to say, “Don't you have enough photos?”
I nodded, and he turned and sprinted back down the trail.
Before his footsteps ground to a sudden halt.
At first, I thought he was snapping polaroids.
When I got closer, though, blinking in the eerie dark, I caught something.
Bending down, I picked up a bell jar still spilling fireflies.
Further down the trail, Jem was lying crumpled in the dirt, his camera smashed to pieces next to him, blood running in thick rivulets down his temple. There he was. Leaning against a tree, his arms folded, was the ghost boy. Wren Oliver was growing up with me. Now, a teenager, and yet his face was carved into something else entirely, more of a monster, slight points to his ears and too-sharp teeth, eyes ignited.
Wren didn't look like a ghost boy anymore.
Death had dressed him in shackles of ivy, a crown of glass and bone forced onto his head, entangled in his curls. Death was torturing him.
Wren’s body was its canvas, and every time I got away, he was punished, painting his failures across scarred skin.
I should have been running for my life, but I was mesmerised by each symbol cruelly carved into his neck.
The boy did a slow head incline, like he couldn't believe I was standing in front of him.
His slow spreading smile caught me off guard.
I remembered how to run, stumbling over my feet.
But I couldn't move.
The burning hatred that death had filled him with, was stronger, hollowing him out completely. I managed two shaky steps, before I felt him, an unearthly force winding its way around my spine. This time, he didn't hesitate.
I watched his mouth move, a single curve of his upper lip that wrenched my body from my control, slamming me against a tree. There was something around my throat, choking the breath from my lungs, a thick fog spreading over my eyes.
Following his mouth curving into silent letters, I could feel my feet slowly leaving the ground, my legs dangling.
I was floating.
Hovering off of the ground, suspended by his words.
Through half lidded eyes, I caught the glint of a blade between his fist, but I couldn't move, couldn't scream.
He was drowning me, bleeding into my blood, spider webbing and expanding in my brain without moving a muscle.
Instead, the ghost boy stood silently, running his thumb down the teeth of his knife while he ripped my lungs apart.
It was like suffocating, sinking into that peaceful oblivion I met at eight years old.
This time, though, the darkness was starving.
“Charlie?”
My eyes found daylight, a scream clawing out of my mouth.
“Charlie, it's past curfew!”
Wren flinched, his stoic expression crumpling.
The dead boy’s lips moved again, this time in a curse.
Fuck.
“Charlotte!”
Staggering back, Wren’s eyes widened and the suffocating hold on me severed.
His head snapped in the direction my aunt was coming from.
“Charlie, answer me right now.”
He hesitated, his bare feet pivoting in the dirt, like he was considering finishing me off. Wren studied me with lazy eyes, sucking on his bottom lip. When my aunt's footsteps got louder, branches snapping under her shoes, something contorted in the boy’s face.
Fear.
I guessed the boy wasn't expecting other humans to intrude.
Wren fell over himself, shuffling on his hands and knees, before diving to his feet. When he turned and ran, I was released, slipping to the ground, trying and failing to draw in breath. I barely felt the impact, only a dull thudding pain. I could hear the ghost boy’s footsteps, his uneven, shuddery breaths as he catapulted into a run.
Under a late setting sun, I watched his dancing shadow disappear into the trees.
Mission unsuccessful, I guessed.
When I was fully conscious, Aunt May was checking over Jem, helping him sit up.
“Where did he go?” I managed to get out, scanning the darkness for Wren.
“He's okay, just concussed.” May whispered, dialling 911.
My aunt applied a dressing to Jem’s wound, ignoring the boy’s hisses.
“Keep still.” she murmured, smoothing his bandaid. “What happened, Charlotte?”
“She pushed me over.” Jem groaned, shuffling away from me. When my aunt told him to stay calm, he straightened up, leaning against the tree. “The psycho bitch tried to fucking kill me!”
When my aunt's gaze flicked to me, I shook my head.
“It was Wren Oliver.” I gritted, teetering on hysteria. I could tell she didn't believe me, but I couldn't stop myself.
I prodded at my throat, clawing for the indentations where his phantom fingers snaked around my neck, squeezing the breath from my lungs.
But there was nothing.
I could feel my mind starting to unravel. I nodded to my disgruntled classmate trying to dodge my aunt’s prodding.
“Ow, ow, ow! That stings!
“He knocked Jem out.” I managed. “Then he tried to kill me.”
Jem surprised me with a scoff. “You're seriously blaming your psychotic break on a dead kid?”
Aunt May pursed her lips, motioning for Jem to be quiet. Judging from her face, however, she agreed with the boy.
May forced a smile, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. “Okay. Can you, uh, describe the boy to me, Charlotte?”
“He was wearing a crown,” I said, “And he looked my age.”
Aunt May cocked her head, and I saw real worry, like she was trying not to freak out. Jem made a snorting noise.
“I'm sorry, he was wearing a crown?”
“Yes!” I insisted, getting progressively more frustrated.
I tried to jump up, only for my aunt to gently lower me back down. “I know it sounds crazy, but death has sent Wren Oliver to kill me, just like my family. He tried to kill me when I was twelve, too!”
Jem let out a bitter laugh. “Your niece is a fucking wackadoodle.”
Aunt May’s eyes darkened. She grabbed my shoulders, her nails stabbing into my skin. “Charlie, I want you to listen to me, okay?” When my eyes found the rapidly darkening sky, my aunt forced me to look at her.
“Charlotte!”
She was as scared as me, her voice shuddering.
“Wren Oliver is dead.” My aunt said firmly, shaking me. Even then, though, I wasn't even looking at her. I was trying to find his ignited eyes lighting up the dark. “Wren died at eight years old in a terrible accident, and you can't keep using him as an excuse for your mental trauma.” There was something twitching in her expression I was trying to make sense of. When I risked a look at Jem, the boy was staring at me dazedly– like I really was crazy.
Aunt May pressed her face into my shoulder, and I could feel her tears soaking into my shirt. She was trying to hold it together, trying to understand.
“Charlie, I know you lost your family,” she whispered. “But you and Wren Oliver are not the same. You survived, and he didn't.” Her voice splintered.
“You need to come to terms with that, okay?”
When I didn't respond, she pinched my chin, forcing me to look at her.
“Charlotte.”
Aunt May’s voice turned cold. “I ignored this when you were a kid, but if you continue to use this poor boy as a coping mechanism, I will have no choice but to send you to a specialist.”
When Jem was taken away by paramedics, Aunt May held my hand, squeezing my fingers for dear life.
I caught her gaze scanning the tree's around us, delving into twisting oblivion. Every little noise sent her twisting around. She was looking for something.
“I'm going to get you help.” Aunt May said in a low murmur when we were back at the house. Jude was sitting on the kitchen counter, legs swinging. I could feel his penetrating gaze burning into the back of my head.
Aunt May set a cup of cocoa on the table.
“No more fairytales.”
By the time I was eighteen, I had bitten three therapists.
They refused to believe that death was coming to reclaim my soul, and was using a dead boy to do his dirty work.
For my 16th birthday, I braced myself to come face to face with Wren Oliver’s ghost.
I wasn't even in town, staying at a friend's house.
But dead boys, and especially dead boys moulded into Death’s personal soldiers, could materialise anywhere.
I locked every door in the house, and taped up my friend’s window.
Nothing happened.
On my seventeenth birthday, I was sick in bed with gastritis.
Still no ghost boy.
Death seemed to have finally left me alone.
On my eighteenth birthday, I was stuffing books in my locker when my cousin popped up out of nowhere, scowling as usual. After an unexpected growth spurt and losing a tonne of baby fat, my cousin had scaled the high school hierarchy, swapping his weird experiments for a varsity jacket and experimenting with his sexuality.
The two of us had come to an unspoken truce.
I kept quiet about his spider collection to his popular friends, and he tolerated my existence until I left for college.
“Your surprise party is cancelled.”
Jude leaned against my locker, running a hand through thick dark hair tucked under a baseball cap. Jude never admitted it, but he was definitely embarrassed of being the odd one out.
My siblings may be dead, but they were still redheads.
I pulled off his cap with a smile, throwing it in his face. “Sure it is.”
My cousin’s eyes widened. He lost his slick bravado, grabbing for his cap.
“Hey!”
According to my cousin, my party was unexpectedly cancelled every year.
I wasn't sure if it was his weird superiority complex, or just plain jealousy, but it was getting exhausting.
Jude followed me down the hallway, matching my stride.
“Can you just not come home tonight?”
I quickened my pace. “It's only a party. I'm having some friends over, and no, we won't go anywhere near your room.”
“No, I mean.” Jude stepped in front of me, and for the first time in a while, he wasn't trying to hide disdain for me.
His dark eyes pinned me in place for a moment, the world around us coming to a halt. Sound bled away, and all I heard were his slow breaths. There was something there, an unexplainable twitch in his eyes and lips, that twisted my gut.
Jude stepped closer, his lip curling. He shoved me back, losing his facade.
“Stay the fuck away from the house tonight.” He said, and his voice, his tone, was enough to send shivers creeping down my spine. Jude had always hid behind a ten foot wall in his mind. It was jarring to see something in him finally start to splinter. Fuck. I thought.
This kid had serious Mommy issues.
I blinked, and the world resumed, kids pushing past us.
Jude seemed to catch himself, slipping back under his mask.
“I'm having friends over,” he rolled his eyes, “Your presence will ruin the vibe.”
“It's my birthday?”
He groaned, tipping his head back. “Yes, I know. But–”
“I think you can deal with the attention off of you for one night, Jude.”
“Will Wren Oliver be there too?” Jem Littlewood hollered.
Jude didn't respond for a moment, his lip curling.
“Shut the fuck up.” He spat at Jem, who immediately backed down. With an audience this time, Jude forced an award winning smile. “Fine.” His lips split into a grin I knew he hated. My cousin clamped his hand on my shoulder, hard enough to hurt. I could feel his fingers pinching the material of my jacket. “Have it your way, dude.”
Jude backed away with a two fingered salute.
“Happy 78th birthday!”
In a sense, I wish I listened to my cousin.
My party was a success, sort of.
Four of us, a crate of beers, and no sign of my cousin.
I was mildly tipsy, sitting on the edge of the pool, dangling my legs in the water when my friend demanded more beers.
I was also hungry for cake, so I stumbled inside in search of the goods.
The house was dark, lit up in dazzling blue from the pool's lights reflecting through the windows. Aunt May was in her office on the ground floor, and Jude was getting high in his room. In my drunken state, I found myself marvelling my aunt's house, and how much of it was left unexplored.
For example, in the foyer, past the spiral staircase she’d had custom made, was an elevator I had never questioned.
There was a girl my age standing on the staircase.
She was frozen, mid run, dressed in ragged jeans and t-shirt.
Everything about her stuck out to me, bringing me to a sobering halt.
The girl reminded me of my sister– or at least, if my sister had ever grown up.
I wasn't sure if I was drunk or hallucinating.
Her flower crown was pretty…
Lily had grown wings.
I was slowly moving towards her, a sudden bang sounding from the kitchen.
The bang of something shattering on the floor.
Twisting around, I found myself gravitating towards warm golden light.
The first thing I saw was the refrigerator door hanging open, and someone, no, something, rooting around inside it.
Glued to the spot, I dazedly watched them grab milk, guzzling it down, and then soda, cracking open each can and sucking them dry, before carving their fingers into my birthday cake.
But I wasn't looking at the spillage of food seeping across the floor. Instead, my gaze found a crown of antlers, both human and animal bone entangled with dead flowers and human remains glued to a head of familiar matted brown curls. There was something sticking from battered and bruised flesh, twin gaping slits sliced through a torn shirt resembling glass wings that were not yet formed, reminding me of a butterfly.
Wings.
But not the wings I dreamed of as a kid. These things were unnatural mounds that both did and didn't make sense on a human boy. I could see the trauma of them slicing through his flesh, monstrous, looming things protruding from what was left of a human spine.
Human, and yet I couldn't call his beautifully grotesque face human.
Wren Oliver had grown up with me, now an adult.
Eighteen years old.
His clothes confused me, a single white shirt and shorts.
Wren’s feet were bare, battered and bruised, blood smearing my aunt's tiles.
Angel.
Death had turned his footsoldier, and my future killer, into an angel.
But there was nothing angelic about the dead boy, his body and mind sculpted and moulded into Death’s own.
The boy no longer resembled a human, feral eyes and a manic smile, choking down pieces of cake. His face had been contorted into a monster, gnashing teeth and sharp points in his ears, a sickly tinge to malnourished skin.
And that's when it hit me, watching him stuff himself with food.
Something slimy inched its way up my throat.
The boy didn't move. I don't even think he'd noticed me, gorging himself on anything he could get his hands on.
Chicken, raw bacon, leftover salad.
When he moved onto cupcakes, licking frosting from his fingers, I glimpsed markings on his arms, a language I didn't understand, carved into him.
His wrists were shackled, bound, in entangled iron and vine, iron that was ingrained into his skin, vines and flowers and ivy entangling his bones, that were part of him, polluting his blood. Slowly, my eyes found stab wounds splitting open his torso.
Raw flesh, where his skin had been torched, melting, and then merging, ripped apart and put back together over and over again.
I found his heart, the gaping cavern in his chest where it should be.
And it was.
Marked, carved, and branded with a symbol resembling an X.
Wren Oliver was not dead.
But, just like me, he should have been.
I remember saying his name, my voice slurred slightly.
I didn't drink that much, but I could barely coerce words, my head spinning.
Wren’s neck snapped towards me, his eyes narrowing with resentment I couldn't understand, hatred that seemed to puppeteer him. Slowly tilting his head, the boy’s lips split into a grin, eyes filled, polluted, with mania.
I could see where his lips had been stitched shut, and then ripped open.
“Hi.”
He held up his hand in an awkward wave.
When one of my friends stumbled into the kitchen, Wren reacted on impulse.
He picked up a knife from the counter, throwing it like a dart, straight through the guy’s throat.
Something shattered inside my mind.
Ignoring my friend bleeding out, Wren stumbled over himself, abandoning his feast. He took a single step towards me, backing me against the wall, coming so close, close enough for me to feel his very real breath grazing my cheeks. Just like when he was a kid, he traced the teeth of his blade down my throat. I wasn't expecting him to burst out laughing, trembling with hysteria.
His eyes were wild, feral and wrong, almost euphoric.
With what all I could only recognise as relief.
BANG.
I was barely aware of the gunshot.
The bullet went straight through his head, the winged boy hitting the ground.
Dead.
I saw the blood stemming around him in a halo before the bleeding pool faltered, seeping back inside his head.
Like rewinding a VCR.
Wren was dead, and then he was alive.
Wren’s body contorted, his chest inflating.
His gasp for air was painful, strangled, eyes opening wide.
Terrified.
“You fucking idiot.”
Jude’s voice sent me twisting around.
My cousin stood in the exact same robes he wore as a child.
The world tipped off kilter, and I was on my knees, then my stomach.
I sunk to the floor, my thoughts swimming.
Jude’s murmur followed me, creeping into the dark.
“I told you not to come home.”
I can't remember how long I was unconscious for.
When I woke, I was dressed in an evening gown, a dress that used to be my mother’s.
My vision cleared, and I found myself sitting in an unfamiliar room resembling an abandoned swimming hall.
The pool itself was empty, the bottom stained revealing scarlet.
There were symbols carved into each tile.
Like a game.
“Sit up straight, Charlotte.”
I was sitting at a banquet.
Jude was in front of me, sipping on wine.
He caught my eye for half a second before averting his gaze.
At the far end of the table sat my aunt May.
Kissing the rim of her glass, her smile was twisted.
“I've been waiting so long to give you your birthday presents, Charlotte. Your memories should be returning soon.”
“Mom.” Jude muttered, hiding behind his glass. “Calm down. You're embarrassing yourself.”
Ignoring my cousin, May tapped her glass with a fork, and in walked my birthday presents.
No, dragged.
By their hair.
Wren Oliver, the dead boy, was in fact my aunt's prisoner.
Behind him, was the girl who looked so much like Lily.
I think that's why my aunt chose her.
Aunt May cleared her throat.
“For a long time, our family has lived among creatures who live in the forest you played inside. In exchange for keeping this town safe, they only ask for small favors. Wayward children who disappear into the woods are good enough payment. Charlie, you and your siblings do not share our inheritance. Your mother never wanted fae children. She wanted you to be human.”
Aunt May’s smile faded.
“After losing my sister, and my niece and nephew, I made a deal to give my last surviving niece 100 years of life.”
Her words were white noise, my gaze glued to my birthday presents. I couldn't call them human anymore.
I couldn't call Wren human, when his face was so beautifully grotesque, painfully hypnotising.
The monstrous things sticking from twin slits in his back were supposed to be wings, except they looked wrong, cruelly protruding from his exposed spine. Under the influence of alcohol earlier, the girl made me smile.
Her wings, to me, looked like one of a real fairy.
In reality, they were torn and shredded apart, bigger than the girl herself.
When she dropped onto her stomach, she was dragged back to her feet, her knees buckling under the weight. Her tiara of flowers and bone looked pretty to me when I saw her on the stairs.
Now, though, I could see the pearly white of a human child's skull forced onto her head, dead flowers threaded through cavernous, gaping eye sockets.
The two of them were violently shoved into the empty pool.
“Jude. Please demonstrate, sweetheart.”
Jude stood, pulling out a gun, and aiming it at the winged girl.
BANG.
The girl’s body hit the tiles, her blood seeping across stained white.
“Now, of course, our king did not give you life for free.” May continued.
“The King demanded a debt, as well as two heirs to join him in his court once your hundred years were complete.”
Her lips quirked into a smile.
“The king is smart. If a child cannot be stolen from the human world, they can, however, be made, moulded and shaped from their human forms, skinned of their humanity through their suffering, leaving a hollowed out shell in the child's place.” She was speaking so casually, ignoring Wren’s whimpers.
“The conversion takes a while. 100 years to birth a fully blooded fae heir, who will lose their human memories, in preparation to join their new family.”
Jude shot Wren in the chest, his eyes empty.
This time, he dropped his weapon, using finger-guns instead.
“Bang.” He deadpanned.
Then the neck.
I watched Wren come back to life, and then die.
Over and over again.
I think at one point, he screamed and cried.
But not now.
He was their puppet on display, dancing for their entertainment.
Half lidded eyes drowned in oblivion found mine, and I understood his hatred.
Before he was shot again.
Stabbed.
Branded and burned, and ripped apart.
At some point, I screamed at them to stop. I couldn't breathe, slamming my hands over my ears and begging them.
Aunt May didn't listen, ordering for my hands to be tied down.
“The King required two human sacrifices to suffer in your place.” She concluded. “For one hundred years.”
Aunt May’s smile was suddenly sad, and she lifted her glass in a toast.
I was watching their blood trickle down each tile in the pool, like every death, every time they suffered, my body became progressively less human.
I felt disgusting. I wasn't supposed to be alive. Every single year of my life, every breath I had taken, was stolen.
Aunt May nodded at me, her lips forming a proud smile. She stood up, and was handed a sacrificial knife.
Climbing into the swimming pool herself, she strode over to Wren.
The boy slumped to the floor, trembling, his knees against his chest.
Aunt May grabbed him by the hair, forcing his head up, and sliced the blade across his throat.
His eyes flicked to me, and I swore he smiled.
Spots of red dotted yellowing tiles, a river trickling under my aunt's heels.
“Happy 78th birthday, Charlotte.”
Last night ended with me being locked in my room.
It's been almost 15 hours, and the door is still locked. Please help me. I'm fucking terrified of what my aunt is planning.
I can't stop shgajing. FycjbfucibFUCK
If she is telling the truth, I shouldn't be here, right??
And I can't stop thinking.
Is Wren Oliver trying to kill me, or himself?
2024.05.12 19:20 EJC28 Packers 2024 Draft Analysis Compilation
Round 1, Pick 25 - Jordan Morgan, OT, Arizona:
NFL: This pick reflects the sheer depth of this offensive tackle class. Morgan is an experienced player who will help protect Jordan Love and allow him to flourish in the pocket.
CBS Sports: C+. I might have taken Graham Barton here, but they need help up front so I get it. Morgan can move inside to guard but if they move right tackle Zach Tom to center, he would be their right tackle.
ESPN: If you're going to make Jordan Love one of the highest-paid quarterbacks in the league, which they will soon, you better make sure you can protect him. That's why taking an offensive lineman in the first round for the first time in 13 years made so much sense -- even though Morgan was the seventh tackle to come off the board in the first 25 picks. The only real blemish on Morgan's resume was a torn ACL late in the 2022 season. He had planned to declare for the 2023 draft if not for the injury. Instead, he returned to play in every game last season
NFL Absolutely Not Fake News: Cried like a baby at the end of Ted Lasso.
Round 2, Pick 45 - Edgerrin Cooper, LB, Texas A&M:
NFL: Green Bay slid back and drafted a top-40 talent on my board in Cooper. He's the classic mold of what this Packers scouting staff seeks in a linebacker, possessing excellent speed, length and pursuit ability. There's a starting spot opposite Quay Walker, and I think Cooper will grab it, but both those players can play a little too freely and loosely at times.
CBS Sports: B+. Young, high-energy off-ball ‘backer. Plus range. Loves attacking downhill and very effective vs. the run. Flashed in coverage too with ball skills. But tackle reliability must improve at next level. Ultra-quick trigger. IDs plays in a flash. Some rawness but plenty of tantalizing traits.
ESPN: This pick was tailor-made for new defensive coordinator Jeff Hafley, who is overseeing a switch from a 3-4 to a 4-3 base scheme. He inherited only two starting-caliber inside backers in Quay Walker and Isaiah McDuffie after they released former All-Pro De’Vondre Campbell this offseason. This pick came after the Packers traded back from No. 41 overall with the Saints, who gave up Nos. 45, 168 (fifth round) and 190 (sixth). This after the Eagles traded up to No. 40 to take Iowa defensive back Cooper DeJean, a player once thought to be a Packers' target. The Saints then took cornerback Kool-Aid McKinstry with the 41st pick.
NFL Absolutely Not Fake News: Can spot the four cloud types: cirrus, cumulus, stratus, and nimbus.
Round 2, Pick 58 - Javon Bullard, S, Georgia:
NFL: The Eagles might lead the NFL in drafting Georgia defenders, but the Packers have been giving them a run for their money in recent years. Bullard fills a need at safety, and he brings the kinds of intangibles this scouting department places a premium on. He can play out of control at times and isn't a tremendous athlete, but Bullard is an intense competitor who can play multiple spots in the secondary and be a four-down player.
CBS Sports: A-. Hair-on-fire stocky safety who can align at nickel CB if needed. Takes great angles against the run and plays with reckless abandon. Runs the alley like a missile. Rarely misses a tackle. Not crazy ball hawk. Smaller with shorter arms. Just a stud football player.
ESPN: After this pick, it's fair to say Gutekunst addressed three of his biggest needs -- tackle, inside linebacker and now safety. Perhaps only cornerback would rank on the same level of need. They're essentially starting over at safety, having moved on from Darnell Savage, Jonathan Owens and Rudy Ford. They spent big on free agent Xavier McKinney, but the only other safety with any experience still on the roster was Anthony Johnson Jr., a seventh-round pick last year who played 303 defensive snaps as a rookie. "Obviously the tackle board was stacked, so we addressed that," assistant director of college scouting Pat Moore said. "Then I think Gutey took the best player available at those spots [ILB and safety]."
NFL Absolutely Not Fake News: Has been trying to reach you about your car’s extended warranty.
Round 3, Pick 88 - MarShawn Lloyd, RB, USC:
NFL: This could be Aaron Jones' replacement, even if the Packers added Josh Jacobs this offseason. Lloyd's messy medical history likely was the biggest reason he fell behind some other backs, but his burst, three-down ability and make-you-miss agility make him sort of a poor man's D'Andre Swift.
CBS Sports: A. Older but ultra-sudden thick RB with glimpses of special elusiveness. Speed is a plus to his game. Has a lot of tread left on his tires because he was low-volume back in college. Fumbling issues. Perfect speed acquisition to this stretch-run offense.
ESPN: Yes, Josh Jacobs signed a four-year, $48 million contract in free agency, but the reality of his contract says he's just going year to year. For example, he has a $5.93 million roster bonus due next March if he's still on the team. A year later, his 2025 base salary spikes to $10.2 million. This isn't to say Jacobs will be a one-and-done, but the point is they could move on and save money at any time after this season if they think Lloyd is ready to be the RB1. After letting Aaron Jones go, the Packers have rebuilt their running back room in a hurry.
NFL Absolutely Not Fake News: He may or may not be allowed to own gerbils anymore…
Round 3, Pick 91 - Ty’Ron Hopper, LB, Missouri:
NFL: Hopper wasn't quite as productive last season for Mizzou as he was in 2022, looking a step slow a number of times. Injuries were a big reason why, and Hopper's pro day workout likely was the difference in him landing in Round 3 and not on Day 3. He has pass-rush potential and can drop in zone coverage.
CBS Sports: C+. Ultra-physical off-ball LB. Sleek, exudes athleticism and makes assertive decisions on a routine basis, particularly against the run or blitzer, where he also thrives. Best in that role or as a spy. Long way to go in coverage. Another linebacker?
ESPN: This is what happens when you switch from a 3-4 to a 4-3 defensive scheme. In fact, Gutekunst didn't hide the fact that he would have to add to the inside linebacker room when, earlier this offseason, he said they will "be a little bit more heavy there, so we're going to have to add some numbers." So drafting Hopper in the third round after taking Cooper in the second round shouldn't have come as a major surprise. Hafley now has some options when it comes to deciding who will line up next to Walker at inside linebacker.
NFL Absolutely Not Fake News: Insists that his pocket sand WILL come in handy one day.
Round 4, Pick 111 - Evan Williams, S, Oregon:
NFL: Williams grew on me as the pre-draft process went on. He might not be special in any way, but he's extremely solid and assignment-sound. He might never be a big playmaker, but Williams can hit and will work to earn some kind of role.
CBS Sports: B-. Not a tremendous athlete but does everything well that teams ask out of a multi-dimensional safety today. Keeps throttle down when flying to outside runs, will make an occasional play in coverage. Not a twitchy nickel type. Best in box or robbing middle of the field. Energy exudes from his playing style. Just not a big-time physical specimen.
ESPN: Gutekunst has never been afraid to double up at a position. He's now done it twice in the first four rounds after taking the two inside linebackers on Friday. He traded up to take his second safety, giving up a sixth-rounder (No. 190 overall, that they got from the Saints a day earlier) to move up from No. 126. There will be an all-out competition for the second safety spot next to Xavier McKinney among Johnson Jr., Bullard and Williams -- who posted some impressive blitzing numbers with 4.5 sacks last season (third-most among FBS defensive backs) and 17 quarterback pressures since the start of 2022 (tied for 10th most among FBS DBs).
NFL Absolutely Not Fake News: Hopes to be the 111th best player like his idol, Tom Brady.
Round 5, Pick 163 - Jacob Monk, C, Duke:
NFL: Monk played center, guard and tackle over five seasons with the Blue Devils but likely projects to center in the NFL. He's smart and competitive and has above-average athleticism in a smaller frame.
CBS Sports: A-. Hyper-experienced, legitimately versatile blocker who probably plays center or guard at the next level. Athleticism and acceleration off the snap instantly stand out. Doesn’t have immense size or length but can win with quickness or power against smaller upfield rushers. Classic Packers pick. He’ll be a useful depth option for a while.
ESPN: Gutekunst said after taking Morgan in the first round: "You can't have guys that can only play one spot. That's very hard to do. It just puts a lot of stress on your group." Monk embodies that versatility. He began his five-year college career -- which included 58 starts -- at right tackle, moved to right guard for two years and has gone back and forth between center and right guard the last two years. He was one of only seven FBS players with at least 300 snaps at both center and guard last season. Gutekunst traded up five spots with the Buffalo Bills and gave up a sixth-round pick (No. 219 overall).
NFL Absolutely Not Fake News: Was once attacked by someone’s pet opossum in a Walmart.
Round 5, Pick 169 - Kitan Oladapo, S, Oregon State:
NFL: Oladapo is a nicely proportioned athlete with outstanding length and enough athleticism to be tried as a safety or even a zone corner. He's a bit older but can make his mark at multiple spots because of his willingness to tackle.
CBS Sports: A. Very similar to Jaden Hicks who went a round earlier. Large, strong safety body type but fluid and instinctive in coverage. Could play with a tick more energy but his methodical style keeps him out of trouble re: missing tackles or being baited by misdirection. Huge interception radius. Speed is good, not great. Sound tackler.
ESPN: This should complete the overhaul at safety after the Packers signed Xavier McKinney in free agency and picked two other safeties (Bullard in Round 2 and Williams in Round 4) previously in this draft. The Packers moved on from three safeties who each played at least 500 snaps last season (Darnell Savage, Jonathan Owens and Rudy Ford). After starting his career as a walk-on, Oladapo earned second-team All-Pac 12 honors in 2023 when he did not allow a single touchdown pass in 421 coverage snaps.
NFL Absolutely Not Fake News: Is convinced he could pilot a submarine if he had to.
Round 6, Pick 202 - Travis Glover, OT, Georgia State:
NFL: Glover is a typecast developmental OT prospect with so-so movement skills but ideal length and grip strength. He flashed some real finishing ability, albeit vs. a lower level of competition.
CBS Sports: B+. Wide offensive tackle with the frame of a guard but plenty of length. Smooth athleticism for his size and loves to mash at the second level. Balance is good but can get a little overzealous in pass pro. Hand work and punch timing are solid. Another classic Packers pick. Versatile.
ESPN: Stop if you've heard this before: the Packers took another versatile lineman who has lined up at multiple positions. Glover played both tackle spots and left guard in college. He's considered to have a high upside considering his 6-foot-6, 323-pound frame.
NFL Absolutely Not Fake News: Discovered the reddit mods did not spell check the true facts.
Round 7, Pick 245 - Michael Pratt, QB, Tulane:
NFL: If it's me, I am drafting Pratt before both Jordan Travis and Devin Leary, and the Packers aren't afraid to keep investing in QB talents. From the Green Wave to Green Bay, Pratt is good enough to push Sean Clifford to the side and become Jordan Love's understudy -- perhaps as soon as this year -- with his cool, calm, patient approach and quality accuracy.
CBS Sports: B+. Experienced pocket passer with quality arm who was consistent producer at Tulane across multiple seasons. Lights were never too bright for him. Has some improvisational flair to his game. Just not ultra accurate.
ESPN: Gutekunst said he wanted the Packers to get back into the business of drafting and developing (and then possibly trading) quarterbacks. He's now taken one on Day 3 for the second straight year after picking Sean Clifford in the fifth round last year. Clifford served as Love's backup last season, but it appears he'll have to battle for the job again. Pratt, a four-year starter at Tulane and the 11th quarterback selected this year, went 21-3 as a starter the last two seasons.
NFL Absolutely Not Fake News: Brushes his teeth at least ten times a day.
Round 7, Pick 255 - Kalen King, CB, Penn State:
NFL: You can find King's name scattered in some August mock drafts, but his stock continually tumbled after he struggled to match his 2022 performance, didn't test well athletically for his size and lost some Senior Bowl battles. But in the seventh round? King is well worth the small gamble here.
CBS Sports: B+. Previously had RD1 hype but had a disastrous 2023. Athletic chops are there. Has impressive highs just not a natural mirroring type. Plays chippy and throws his weight around against the run.
ESPN: Going into the draft, there was some thought that the Packers could take a corner early -- even as high as the first round. Instead, they waited until their final pick to take one. They seemed to hit on seventh-round cornerback Carrington Valentine last year. King played 84% of his snaps on the outside, splitting it about evenly between the right and left sides.
NFL Absolutely Not Fake News: If you’re still watching, please get some help.
submitted by EJC28 to GreenBayPackers [link] [comments]
NFL: This pick reflects the sheer depth of this offensive tackle class. Morgan is an experienced player who will help protect Jordan Love and allow him to flourish in the pocket.
CBS Sports: C+. I might have taken Graham Barton here, but they need help up front so I get it. Morgan can move inside to guard but if they move right tackle Zach Tom to center, he would be their right tackle.
ESPN: If you're going to make Jordan Love one of the highest-paid quarterbacks in the league, which they will soon, you better make sure you can protect him. That's why taking an offensive lineman in the first round for the first time in 13 years made so much sense -- even though Morgan was the seventh tackle to come off the board in the first 25 picks. The only real blemish on Morgan's resume was a torn ACL late in the 2022 season. He had planned to declare for the 2023 draft if not for the injury. Instead, he returned to play in every game last season
NFL Absolutely Not Fake News: Cried like a baby at the end of Ted Lasso.
Round 2, Pick 45 - Edgerrin Cooper, LB, Texas A&M:
NFL: Green Bay slid back and drafted a top-40 talent on my board in Cooper. He's the classic mold of what this Packers scouting staff seeks in a linebacker, possessing excellent speed, length and pursuit ability. There's a starting spot opposite Quay Walker, and I think Cooper will grab it, but both those players can play a little too freely and loosely at times.
CBS Sports: B+. Young, high-energy off-ball ‘backer. Plus range. Loves attacking downhill and very effective vs. the run. Flashed in coverage too with ball skills. But tackle reliability must improve at next level. Ultra-quick trigger. IDs plays in a flash. Some rawness but plenty of tantalizing traits.
ESPN: This pick was tailor-made for new defensive coordinator Jeff Hafley, who is overseeing a switch from a 3-4 to a 4-3 base scheme. He inherited only two starting-caliber inside backers in Quay Walker and Isaiah McDuffie after they released former All-Pro De’Vondre Campbell this offseason. This pick came after the Packers traded back from No. 41 overall with the Saints, who gave up Nos. 45, 168 (fifth round) and 190 (sixth). This after the Eagles traded up to No. 40 to take Iowa defensive back Cooper DeJean, a player once thought to be a Packers' target. The Saints then took cornerback Kool-Aid McKinstry with the 41st pick.
NFL Absolutely Not Fake News: Can spot the four cloud types: cirrus, cumulus, stratus, and nimbus.
Round 2, Pick 58 - Javon Bullard, S, Georgia:
NFL: The Eagles might lead the NFL in drafting Georgia defenders, but the Packers have been giving them a run for their money in recent years. Bullard fills a need at safety, and he brings the kinds of intangibles this scouting department places a premium on. He can play out of control at times and isn't a tremendous athlete, but Bullard is an intense competitor who can play multiple spots in the secondary and be a four-down player.
CBS Sports: A-. Hair-on-fire stocky safety who can align at nickel CB if needed. Takes great angles against the run and plays with reckless abandon. Runs the alley like a missile. Rarely misses a tackle. Not crazy ball hawk. Smaller with shorter arms. Just a stud football player.
ESPN: After this pick, it's fair to say Gutekunst addressed three of his biggest needs -- tackle, inside linebacker and now safety. Perhaps only cornerback would rank on the same level of need. They're essentially starting over at safety, having moved on from Darnell Savage, Jonathan Owens and Rudy Ford. They spent big on free agent Xavier McKinney, but the only other safety with any experience still on the roster was Anthony Johnson Jr., a seventh-round pick last year who played 303 defensive snaps as a rookie. "Obviously the tackle board was stacked, so we addressed that," assistant director of college scouting Pat Moore said. "Then I think Gutey took the best player available at those spots [ILB and safety]."
NFL Absolutely Not Fake News: Has been trying to reach you about your car’s extended warranty.
Round 3, Pick 88 - MarShawn Lloyd, RB, USC:
NFL: This could be Aaron Jones' replacement, even if the Packers added Josh Jacobs this offseason. Lloyd's messy medical history likely was the biggest reason he fell behind some other backs, but his burst, three-down ability and make-you-miss agility make him sort of a poor man's D'Andre Swift.
CBS Sports: A. Older but ultra-sudden thick RB with glimpses of special elusiveness. Speed is a plus to his game. Has a lot of tread left on his tires because he was low-volume back in college. Fumbling issues. Perfect speed acquisition to this stretch-run offense.
ESPN: Yes, Josh Jacobs signed a four-year, $48 million contract in free agency, but the reality of his contract says he's just going year to year. For example, he has a $5.93 million roster bonus due next March if he's still on the team. A year later, his 2025 base salary spikes to $10.2 million. This isn't to say Jacobs will be a one-and-done, but the point is they could move on and save money at any time after this season if they think Lloyd is ready to be the RB1. After letting Aaron Jones go, the Packers have rebuilt their running back room in a hurry.
NFL Absolutely Not Fake News: He may or may not be allowed to own gerbils anymore…
Round 3, Pick 91 - Ty’Ron Hopper, LB, Missouri:
NFL: Hopper wasn't quite as productive last season for Mizzou as he was in 2022, looking a step slow a number of times. Injuries were a big reason why, and Hopper's pro day workout likely was the difference in him landing in Round 3 and not on Day 3. He has pass-rush potential and can drop in zone coverage.
CBS Sports: C+. Ultra-physical off-ball LB. Sleek, exudes athleticism and makes assertive decisions on a routine basis, particularly against the run or blitzer, where he also thrives. Best in that role or as a spy. Long way to go in coverage. Another linebacker?
ESPN: This is what happens when you switch from a 3-4 to a 4-3 defensive scheme. In fact, Gutekunst didn't hide the fact that he would have to add to the inside linebacker room when, earlier this offseason, he said they will "be a little bit more heavy there, so we're going to have to add some numbers." So drafting Hopper in the third round after taking Cooper in the second round shouldn't have come as a major surprise. Hafley now has some options when it comes to deciding who will line up next to Walker at inside linebacker.
NFL Absolutely Not Fake News: Insists that his pocket sand WILL come in handy one day.
Round 4, Pick 111 - Evan Williams, S, Oregon:
NFL: Williams grew on me as the pre-draft process went on. He might not be special in any way, but he's extremely solid and assignment-sound. He might never be a big playmaker, but Williams can hit and will work to earn some kind of role.
CBS Sports: B-. Not a tremendous athlete but does everything well that teams ask out of a multi-dimensional safety today. Keeps throttle down when flying to outside runs, will make an occasional play in coverage. Not a twitchy nickel type. Best in box or robbing middle of the field. Energy exudes from his playing style. Just not a big-time physical specimen.
ESPN: Gutekunst has never been afraid to double up at a position. He's now done it twice in the first four rounds after taking the two inside linebackers on Friday. He traded up to take his second safety, giving up a sixth-rounder (No. 190 overall, that they got from the Saints a day earlier) to move up from No. 126. There will be an all-out competition for the second safety spot next to Xavier McKinney among Johnson Jr., Bullard and Williams -- who posted some impressive blitzing numbers with 4.5 sacks last season (third-most among FBS defensive backs) and 17 quarterback pressures since the start of 2022 (tied for 10th most among FBS DBs).
NFL Absolutely Not Fake News: Hopes to be the 111th best player like his idol, Tom Brady.
Round 5, Pick 163 - Jacob Monk, C, Duke:
NFL: Monk played center, guard and tackle over five seasons with the Blue Devils but likely projects to center in the NFL. He's smart and competitive and has above-average athleticism in a smaller frame.
CBS Sports: A-. Hyper-experienced, legitimately versatile blocker who probably plays center or guard at the next level. Athleticism and acceleration off the snap instantly stand out. Doesn’t have immense size or length but can win with quickness or power against smaller upfield rushers. Classic Packers pick. He’ll be a useful depth option for a while.
ESPN: Gutekunst said after taking Morgan in the first round: "You can't have guys that can only play one spot. That's very hard to do. It just puts a lot of stress on your group." Monk embodies that versatility. He began his five-year college career -- which included 58 starts -- at right tackle, moved to right guard for two years and has gone back and forth between center and right guard the last two years. He was one of only seven FBS players with at least 300 snaps at both center and guard last season. Gutekunst traded up five spots with the Buffalo Bills and gave up a sixth-round pick (No. 219 overall).
NFL Absolutely Not Fake News: Was once attacked by someone’s pet opossum in a Walmart.
Round 5, Pick 169 - Kitan Oladapo, S, Oregon State:
NFL: Oladapo is a nicely proportioned athlete with outstanding length and enough athleticism to be tried as a safety or even a zone corner. He's a bit older but can make his mark at multiple spots because of his willingness to tackle.
CBS Sports: A. Very similar to Jaden Hicks who went a round earlier. Large, strong safety body type but fluid and instinctive in coverage. Could play with a tick more energy but his methodical style keeps him out of trouble re: missing tackles or being baited by misdirection. Huge interception radius. Speed is good, not great. Sound tackler.
ESPN: This should complete the overhaul at safety after the Packers signed Xavier McKinney in free agency and picked two other safeties (Bullard in Round 2 and Williams in Round 4) previously in this draft. The Packers moved on from three safeties who each played at least 500 snaps last season (Darnell Savage, Jonathan Owens and Rudy Ford). After starting his career as a walk-on, Oladapo earned second-team All-Pac 12 honors in 2023 when he did not allow a single touchdown pass in 421 coverage snaps.
NFL Absolutely Not Fake News: Is convinced he could pilot a submarine if he had to.
Round 6, Pick 202 - Travis Glover, OT, Georgia State:
NFL: Glover is a typecast developmental OT prospect with so-so movement skills but ideal length and grip strength. He flashed some real finishing ability, albeit vs. a lower level of competition.
CBS Sports: B+. Wide offensive tackle with the frame of a guard but plenty of length. Smooth athleticism for his size and loves to mash at the second level. Balance is good but can get a little overzealous in pass pro. Hand work and punch timing are solid. Another classic Packers pick. Versatile.
ESPN: Stop if you've heard this before: the Packers took another versatile lineman who has lined up at multiple positions. Glover played both tackle spots and left guard in college. He's considered to have a high upside considering his 6-foot-6, 323-pound frame.
NFL Absolutely Not Fake News: Discovered the reddit mods did not spell check the true facts.
Round 7, Pick 245 - Michael Pratt, QB, Tulane:
NFL: If it's me, I am drafting Pratt before both Jordan Travis and Devin Leary, and the Packers aren't afraid to keep investing in QB talents. From the Green Wave to Green Bay, Pratt is good enough to push Sean Clifford to the side and become Jordan Love's understudy -- perhaps as soon as this year -- with his cool, calm, patient approach and quality accuracy.
CBS Sports: B+. Experienced pocket passer with quality arm who was consistent producer at Tulane across multiple seasons. Lights were never too bright for him. Has some improvisational flair to his game. Just not ultra accurate.
ESPN: Gutekunst said he wanted the Packers to get back into the business of drafting and developing (and then possibly trading) quarterbacks. He's now taken one on Day 3 for the second straight year after picking Sean Clifford in the fifth round last year. Clifford served as Love's backup last season, but it appears he'll have to battle for the job again. Pratt, a four-year starter at Tulane and the 11th quarterback selected this year, went 21-3 as a starter the last two seasons.
NFL Absolutely Not Fake News: Brushes his teeth at least ten times a day.
Round 7, Pick 255 - Kalen King, CB, Penn State:
NFL: You can find King's name scattered in some August mock drafts, but his stock continually tumbled after he struggled to match his 2022 performance, didn't test well athletically for his size and lost some Senior Bowl battles. But in the seventh round? King is well worth the small gamble here.
CBS Sports: B+. Previously had RD1 hype but had a disastrous 2023. Athletic chops are there. Has impressive highs just not a natural mirroring type. Plays chippy and throws his weight around against the run.
ESPN: Going into the draft, there was some thought that the Packers could take a corner early -- even as high as the first round. Instead, they waited until their final pick to take one. They seemed to hit on seventh-round cornerback Carrington Valentine last year. King played 84% of his snaps on the outside, splitting it about evenly between the right and left sides.
NFL Absolutely Not Fake News: If you’re still watching, please get some help.
2024.05.11 03:53 TheOneTrueAnimeGod Sionia Chapter 12
Sionia
Chapter12
Map First Previous Note: Reddit Tech support fixed map bug. Use mouse wheel/ button to zoom and navigate
Standing inside the opulent chamber of the forth tower alone, I made sure nothing was left behind. Heading down to a parking area for carriages and carts off to the right of the main entrance to the keep where my people where gathered. They were mostly settling who could ride where and seeing to their personal gear and supplies. I had a cart specifically for baggage for my people with my cart only for my items and food supplies.
I shocked myself with realization that I had fully adopted a nobility's frame of mind as I now referred to those before me as my people. Looking over as Evito came trotting up slightly out of breath, I gave him a slight nod.
“Come as I must do as I was commanded.” Evito stated as he saluted me with a half bow before leading me to the ornate carriage.
The carriage was well made and really just needed a good coat of paint and some polishing as it showed signs of neglect and years of unuse. The Duke”s insignia had been removed which looked rough where it was sanded off. Evito opening the door motioned me inside.
Closing the door and making a grand show of the door lock before lifting up a metal reinforced window shade. Once the window shades on one side were up and locked into place, Evito then lowering another set above the windows that were louvered that allowed light inside the carriage but had a cheese cloth type of covering matching the deep maroon color of the inside of the carriage so no one could peer outside easily.
“The window shields should be used when under attack. You can open the upper view slots for light and can peer out without showing yourself. As you can see, there is even these three here where you can give orders to the driver. The back two you can give orders to the servants on the tiger perch. If you lift up the seat here in the back, you have storage space as you can see your property there. Here in the front is slightly different. You will notice when you lift up the seat, it looks the same as the back. However, if you reach here,this opens up and you can store high valuables. I would recommend storing your riding gear and overcoats in the front storage. Your Lordship should get a strongbox from the tradesman's guild and put about three silver, four sceats, twenty five koper and a few pelano and some mites in it. Store that strong box in the storage area of the back bench. All bandits and raiders know a noble has money. If you are caught and forced to submit, you can hand over this chest and not lose a fortune.” Evito explained the intricacies of the carriage Duke Boasag gifted me.
“I see. Very good advise. Thank you, Evito.” I said with gratitude.
Closing the upper louvers and then opening the windows, Evito then flipped a switch and lowered the glass window next to the back bench.
"All the windows have this lever as you can see. Slide the lever like this and you can lower the window for more air. Should you wish to close the window, just lift the window up and slide the lever back to keep window in place. You will notice two sword hangers set on each side of the carriage and a shield holder up there. I would recommend you get swords for them and not hang your personal one. Up in the front corner there is your personal water cask and silver cup. It it is strapped to the front right corner of the carriage where only the spigot shows inside. I have seen that it is already filled. Lastly, if you lift these two panels and flip the leg here, it becomes a travel bed. That is all I have to to show and have fulfilled my duty.” Evito stated with a salute and a bowing nod then opened the carriage door where he returned to the keep.
I stepped out and called to my soldiers, Razor and Meowth. I spoke to Lars asking him to place the guard around our party and to make a plan for when we would have two more carriages and two more carts by the time we left Trikath. I then spoke to Razor and Meowth asking them to take up position in the tiger stand of the front two carriages. I then asked Razor to inform the wolf kin brothers to take the tiger position on the third carriage as they would be responsible for guarding that carriage while traveling on the road. Lastly, Pamba was being spoiled by Rina and would be riding with her for the time being.
With everyone saddled and settled, I called out to Lars to head directly to Trikath's tradesman's guild as I entered the carriage. I immediately lowered two of the windows, the side louvers and one back louver as it was a warm day. About twenty minutes later, we entered through the gates of Trikath that looked like any typical medieval city in Europe back on earth. The only difference was that the city streets were much cleaner with a well drained baked brick road.
The tradesman's merchant's guild was similar to Id but larger. Once there, I was met by a thirty something man with black hair and blue eyes.
“Welcome to the Green Trading Company and tradesman's guild. Master Porgisl owner and Guild Master. I am Fronz the manager of this branch. You must be Count Wyatt. I have been informed by Evito to procure items and will help with any other transactions.” Fronz introduced himself with a formal bow and salute.
“Nice to meet you Fronz. I would like to get two more fully fitted out carts without florses. I also will be needing things from the storefront.” I requested with a slight nod.
"As you wish" Fronz stated as he led the way to the storefront.
In the merchant's building storefront, I had Tiana and Rana get the things they would need to do their work. I also had my head cook Big Jake an imposing man come with me. It seemed that size mattered with cooks as a sign their food was good. Anyway, I had Big Jake select cook and service ware for travel and six water casks which he was to fill and install on the carts and the two new carriages. I had Gus and Lorna select some personal grooming items along with towels, linens and mattresses for the Order of Knights that would fit in a cart. I also had them get any other basic items for the road trip that they could think of.
I picked up a very high quality strongbox that was longer but not wider or deeper with four keys. While there, I also picked up a couple of blank keys. Seeing some really nice looking padlocks which were definitely more advanced than what was expected, I bought the entire lot of ten which came with four keys each. Finally, I got several large soft marking chalk blocks with a slate board that was about a foot square.
Finished with shopping, I asked Fronz my wish to hire two stable hands, three drivers and a blacksmith since I did not see those trades previously when I was hiring servants. A little over a half an hour later, I hired two teenage boys and a very well muscled late twenties man named Luke Smith with blonde hair and green eyes. Luke's occupation oddly enough matched the meaning of his surname. The stable boys were both brown haired and brown eyed and around fifteen years old. The first was Brad and the other was Tim. Both were orphans and had no surname. All three were to care for and look after all the florses which I had a total of forty one now. Luke loaded up his anvil, toolbox and bellows in the back of the last cart the baggage one for our party. Both Brad and Tim would be riding a florse making sure the strings of florses were alright and deal with any issues that might arise on that front. The drivers were Matt a twenty four year old young man with brown hair and eyes. Doug a twenty five year old with lite brown hair and green eyes and Jace a twenty eight year old with red hair and green eyes. They were trained to drive carriages and carts for the merchants and guild and now would be driving the carriages with my footmen learning on the fly with the two new carts.
Back at the dock about an hour and half later since I arrived, Fronz approached me as he was writing on a type of clipboard that had a small inkwell attached to it.
“Lord Wyatt, your total bill will be twenty one eight six dinari.” Fronz stated as he read from his invoice.
“Very good.” I replied and took out three silver coins and handed them to Fronz.“Here is eight erytho and fourteen koper.” Fronz stated as he gave my change from his strongbox.
“Great and thank you Fronz.” I replied with a smile and pocketed the change as I was wearing my bluejeans.
“It is a pleasure to be at your assistance Lord Wyatt. We welcome your business anytime.”Fronz stated with a salute and a deep bow.
I then sorted our party again as I had the new carts fitted with mattresses for the Order of Knights. Old Maude would ride in the cart with Reagan and Guntar with apprentice doctors with Sir Jas and Cleef. I had my extra florses put onto four strings where two strings would be tied to the baggage carts. The girls were split up equally between the two new carriages with Lorna assigned with Freya, Illya and Rina in their carriage and Wynna, one of my chambermaids, in the other. The rest of my servants would split up to ride in carts except the cart with my earth items. Big Jake would drive my cart that had food rations that Evito provided and Luke would drive the baggage cart.
Retrieving my tool box, the power station, two swords and my shield which was transferred to my carriage. I also placed a padlock on the five crates that belong to myself that stored all the earth items. I ordered Big Jake to tie my crates down with rope so they would not shift while traveling.
Once everyone was sorted, I called everyone to load up with a grand gesture. However, I insisted Gus riding on the drivers bench with Jace rather than with me as would be normal for the first leg of the journey. I just did not want him to see and ask questions or what I planned to work on.
With a wave of my hand out the carriage door to Lars, our party began traveling out of Trikath and heading straight south on the King's Highway. While we were traveling, I transferred the strongbox contents to the new one as the old strongbox was almost over flowing as I had placed the contents of Shu's box into mine leaving that box with documents for the guild to deal with. Putting my new strongbox along with the power station in the the cubby hide just like my cart had but better crafted as the cubby was a false floor type rather than a blocked off section. I then began working on making a key for the first strongbox with a couple of files from earth. I cut a chalk block into thick pencils which I shaved for dust and used the slate board to help identify the key slot locations and depth.
“I am the man!” I cheered as I turned the key in the lock and it clicked after an hour and a half of work.
Placing in the strongbox five erythro, five sceates and four koper where I locked it up. It was unfortunate that I had no mites but I would resolve that later. I then secured the strongbox under the back bench and the toolbox in the cubby under the front bench. With a satisfied sigh, I drew the curtains of the carriage and laid down as I was still quiet tired from not enough sleep since I arrived in Sionia. I closed my eyes and allowed myself to peacefully nap.
A knock on the door wakened me where I raised up and pulled the curtain back.
“Lord Wyatt we have arrived at a good place to camp for the evening meal.” Announced Lars with Gus standing next to him.
“Very good.” I stated as Gus opened the door to let me out.
“Lord Wyatt, Lady Freya Thor requests to dine with your this evening.” Gus stated with a salute and bow.“ I see. Very well. Please inform the lady of acceptance.” I stated as Rana and Tiana came up.
“Would you like to wash up?” Asked Tiana with a flick of her left ear.
“Yes,that would be nice Tiana.” I answered with a nod.
“Would you like to change into something more comfortable, Lord Wyatt?” Asked Rana as she was seeking to be of service.
“Yes, I would like that. The dark green outfit would do nicely" I answered.
“Lord Wyatt, what kind of meal would you like this evening?” Asked Big Jake with expectancy.
I sighed and shook my head.
“Listen Big Jake, just be responsible with the rations we have. We are expected to be on the road for fifteen days. Just make sure that you do not cause us to run out of food. If we need to buy more or something else, then we will. If you need meat, ask Lars over there to have one of his men go hunting. Just show me what you can do with the rations we have. OK?” I explained as I was not expecting to have to directly deal with this kind of minute detail.
“Yes, Lord Wyatt. I so sorry to upset you!” Big Jake said with his lower lip quivering as he bowed deep.
“I am not upset. You are a very good cook. I would call you a grand chef given your qualifications. As to food questions, I do not know what rations we have. So, making any demand now is not something I should do. In time, you will learn what I like and do not like. But for now, just make the meals as good as you can but do not waste the rations as we have a long journey.” I explained hoping not to cause the gentle giant of a man to cry.
“Thank you, Lord Wyatt. No one has ever allow me to just make anything without direction. I promise to make you an amazing meal.” Big Jake said with pride.
“Very good. Will be looking forward to it. Oh, Lady Freya will be joining me and perhaps Ladies Illya and Rina too. Keep that in mind if the rations provided are to be divided. I would prefer that everyone eats the same general meal. Though, you can vary it for my guests and myself.” I continued to explain my preferences.
“Yes, Lord Wyatt. I will get to work right away.” Big Jake replied and scurried off toward where the cooking fires were lit.
Lukas and Stephan set up a walled curtain enclosure bought by Gus to allow bathing and dressing while on the road that sat between the first two carriages. This was done so the girls group could wash up in privacy. While Freya was washing up, I decided to check on Sir Jas and the knights and see to my own constitutional.
“How are you doing Sir Jas, Cleef, Gunthar and Reagan.” I stated as I walked up to where they were lying before a fire.
“Actually not too bad. We thank you for the mattresses. It was a godsend for us. We rode very comfortably.” Sir Jas stated with a smile and a salute from his lying position.
“Yeah, it is more than what we would have gotten from the Order.” Reagan stated with sour look and a salute.
“He is not wrong. We thank you.” Stated Guntar with a nod and Salute from where he was sitting.
Cleef just made a grunting yes nodding of his head, mouth and cheeks were still swollen and speaking was excruciatingly painful.
“I am glad. Let me know if you need anything.” I stated as I rose from my squatting position near Sir Jas.
“Wait, Lord Wyatt.” Pleaded Sir Jas as I was about to leave.“Yes, what is it?” I replied with curiosity.
“We have all been talking and how we are now traveling confirms our decision. We would like to join your House as Knights. We will have to ask his Grace Duke Avondale who is Lord Marshal for transfer. General Bondi who is over all of the Knight Orders is away in the east reinforcing and insuring the defenses at Caladan, Norrbotten and Red Keep with the third, forth and fifth Order of Knights.” Sir Jas requested with a salute and nod which all the others did as well.
“I am touched. However, you know I do not have any lands or manor. I cannot in good conscious accept.” I replied with a shake of my head and sad look.
“Should you be awarded with a manor or lands would you accept?” Asked Sir Jas hopefully.
“If and I do mean “IF” and I have enough room and can support you properly, then yes, I will accept your vows of fealty.” I promised with a smile.
“We look forward to serving you for we are certain you will be amply rewarded.” Stated Sir Jas with another nod and salute.
After meeting with the Knights, I talked with Old Maude who was resting as the apprentices from doctor Zalzworth were doing most of the work. I allowed her to see to my wounds and apply the elven salve. Next, I sought out the guards to insure the posting of the watch so that everyone had a break and ample time to eat. After this, I met with the wolf kin brothers Conan and Connor. The only way to tell them apart was their eye color. Conan had gray eyes and Connor had olive eyes. I asked them to take the watch equally over the females to ensure no one bothers them. With Razor and Meowth, they said they would stretch their legs then head back to get food and rest up a bit which I agreed with.
Back at my carriage, I was met by Tiana who had set up a bronze bowl next to my carriage and proceeded to remove my shirt and wash my upper body with heavily scented water and soap. When finished, Tiana applied a similarly scented oil with extra attention to my underarms. Rana brought me the green outfit with excitement. Gus and Tiana helped me donned the outfit and Rana quickly went to wash my shirt for it to be ready in the morning. Gus combed my hair and placed the beret hat on my head. I then belted on my sword and gun belt and headed to a table set aside for me to eat the evening meal.
Just as Freya and the girls were finishing up and streaming out of the enclosure, Meowth came jogging up.
“Meow Lord Wyatt, do not be alarmed but there is three people watching our group. Razor Tom is keeping close watch on them. They are made up of a tom kitten, an old tomcat and a meowther. They are in the trees before the fluff fields.” Meowth said as she nodded toward the forest belt and the cotton fields beyond.
“Good to know. Where is Razor?” I asked as I stood up and was waving at Lars to get his attention.
“Razor Tom is over there up in the big meowoak tree, meow Lord Wyatt” Meowth said with a flick of her right ear and stiff tail that actually was pointing in the direction of Razor.
“Well done. Keep watch on the women and restrict them to near the carriages until we sort these guests out. Let Lady Freya know so she can keep the rest calm.” I ordered with a slight nod of my head.
“Purrrfect, meow Lord Wyatt.” Meowth replied as she jogged off to speak with Freya.
“How can I be of service, Lord Wyatt?” Lars asked as he approached followed by a short bow, salute and chest bump.
“My body guards Razor and Meowth spotted three people watching our group. Razor is up in the big oak tree behind me keeping close watch on them.” I stated and paused because of the horrified shocked look on Lars' face.
Lars took a knee with a deep bow of his head said, “I apologize for my failure along with the men under my command. Our first day to be so tainted! I beg for your forgiveness.” Lars said as he groveled before me.
“There is no harm done this time. See that you post your men better and have them do a proper scouting of the area in the future. Last thing I want is to have to go into battle from a surprise attack that was preventable.” I admonished with a stern look and a pointing finger.
“Yes, Lord Wyatt. We your house guards will show you our true worth from this day forward!” Lars promised with a double fist bump to the chest and a salute.
“Good enough. Now, have six men flank them and find out who they are. If they are locals, ask them to return home. If they are not, bring them to me but do not harm them unless they become violent.” I replied with my orders.
“At your command, Lord Wyatt.” Lars said with fist chest bump with salute and immediate ran to where five of his men were relaxing before a fire.
Lars with the five men split up into two groups of three. They then made a very wide circle to get behind the trio watching our party.
Big Jake at this point brought some warmed up bread and a type of green herb dip along with sliced apples and some lamb slices mixed with onion, garlic, two types of squash and a variety of herbs.
“Lady Freya, I am glad you are here. Lady Illya and Lady Rina you too are most welcome.” I stated with a formal bow and sweeping arm as the ladies approached.
“Thank you, Ryan for this little pleasure.” Freya said with a nice smile.
“Yes, we thank you too.” Said Illya quickly also speaking for Rina.
We then seated ourselves and began to eat the bread with the herb dip that was incredibly delicious as Lorna and Gus were pouring a nice sweet vinqua made from berries. The herb dip was amazing as it appeared to be a butter, garlic and herb mixture. However, it also had the undeniable taste of olive oil too.
Just as Tiana was plating out the main dish for our group, Lars approached with the trio. The first was a middle aged man of lite brown hair that was beginning to gray. The second was a late forties to fifties woman with heavily graying hair. The last was a boy of about six to seven years old with brownish red hair and bright green eyes.
“These are the ones watching our camp, Lord Wyatt.” Said Lars with a double fist chest bump and a salute.
“Very good. Well done.” I replied with a nod and a return double chest fist bump salute.
The trio looked very scared especially the boy who was beginning to tear up to cry.
“I am Count Ryan Wyatt. Who are you and why were you spying on our party?” I asked with a raised eyebrow.
“I am Robert Duffy. I was chamberlain and steward to Count Charles Appleton who was assassinated by rogues. This is Hazel Radcliff Housekeeper for Avalon fortress. The little Lord here is Charlie Appleton the rightful heir to the title of Count of the Avalon Western Region and the fortress of Avalon. We humbly ask for your protection." Stated Robert with the begging request.
“I see. Well now. Who is specifically after the young lad?” I asked for this intrigue was something I did not want.
“I suspect the House of Skafhoggr but not the Viscount himself. He is, well, not a person who can strategize. It is more than likely his wife Lady Ludmilla or his mother in law Dowager Baroness Grogda Wode. Their home was Fossberg a small mountain village east of Red Keep that was destroyed by the Empire. They were staying with Viscount Skafhoggr at his manor in Dorn before they came to Fortress Avalon. Viscount Skafhoggr married Lady Ludmilla after only one month introduction. Almost two months after they arrived at Fortress Avalon, my Lord Avondale fell ill after drinking vinqua and died within a half span. Only poison kills a healthy and strong man as my lord was in such a short span. Two days after my lord's death, Lady Beatrice Appleton also fell ill and died within a span. A week later, the young master was attacked and his bodyguard fought to the death to protect him. Hazel grabbed our young lord and fled into city. I received word and joined them. We were attacked again by a mercenary known to do assassinations. I was able to wound him but not before the young lord was stabbed. We fled the city and have been on the run these past three months. It was only a week ago we learned that Viscount Skafhoggr was awarded the title to Fortress Avalon. Please, I beg of you! Help and protect us!” Robert explained with his pleading request.
“ I see.” I said as I sat quiet for a moment to consider what I should do.
“That is clawful!” Said Meowth with her tail straight and hair raised in an angry display.
Pamba jumped out of Rina's lap and climbed onto my shoulder where she whined and rubbed her check against mine. Looking over at Freya, who had the look of fury in her eyes, made my blood run cold. I suspected Freya wanted to kill whoever would harm a child. I also had the urge to do extreme violence against these villains.
“Very well. I Count Ryan Wyatt grant you protection. However, know what you see here is all the retainers I have. I have no home or lands because of the Empire. I am now on my way to see the King who summoned me to appear as soon as I can get there. I must go to Avalon and present myself to Viscount Skafhoggr to see if I have any new messages from the King.” I stated my travel plans to the trio who had the look of horror.
“We can not return to Avalon. The young lord would be killed on sight.” Protested Robert with Hazel clutching the boy tightly as he began to cry.
“Lord Wyatt. You can not take them to Fortress Avalon. It would almost certainly bring attack and more attempts of assassination. I know you can win a battle against a small force. However, you can not protect against an arrow from an assassin who creeps in the shadows unseen.” Freya stated as she breathed her anger despite a calm voice.
“You are correct. However, I have no intention on taking them to Fortress Avalon. I believe that they should travel through the city in a cart with guards where we will catch up to them within a day. Know, I will not stay in Avalon more than one night as etiquette requires as Viscount Skafhoggr will host me for a night's rest from travel.” I stated the plan and I saw Freya sigh a bit of relief with Pamba making a quiet approving barking noise.
“Tell me Robert, do you know of an adventurer party that is honorable in Avalon that I could hire for this journey? I have the feeling that I will need more fighting men. I do not want to select mercenaries as they are only loyal to who pays the highest coin and I can not compete given my circumstances.” I asked as I looked toward Lars with Razor now standing beside him.
“Yes, Zack Talley's party. He is an A ranked adventurer with seven members mostly C ranked with two B ranked.” Robert stated as he recollected the party I had requested.
“What do you think about hiring them to protect the cart you will be riding in disguised as commoners traveling south to the capital? You three would have to change into clothing of commoners with the story of fleeing from the devastation of the Empire. Maybe say you are going to relatives near or in the capital. Could you do this?” I asked explaining my plan further.
“Yes, that would work. I do not think Zack Talley would recognize me as I have only met him twice. His reputation is very good.” Robert stated with renewed hope and relief.
“Alrighty then. That will be the plan. Will need to send a floxis message. Can we do that in Trino?” I asked Robert.
“Yes, there is a small adventurer guild office there. They will take the request and can have them meet you a few millo outside Avalon's main north bridge barbican. The cost of hiring is expensive of at least an erythro maybe as much as a silver if they have recently completed a difficult job.” Robert explained.
“I see. That is good to know. Now, get you something to eat. Once finished, you and Hazel ride in the third cart. Charlie, you can ride in the carriage with me after Hazel cleans you up.” I stated with a sigh and was thankful for the information Robert provided.
Freya took it upon herself to look after Charlie and made sure he had plenty to eat. Charlie was enthralled with Pamba as he fed her some lamb pieces. After dinner, I had Old Maude check on Charlie's wound that turned out to be a deep cut between his side and under his left arm at the bottom of his armpit. Old Maude cleaned the wound and redid the stitches as they were too loose and was the cause for the wound to not been healing.
About an hour later, our party was back on the road. The travel was quiet and Charlie fell asleep with Pamba curled up next to him. Over three hours later, we arrived long after dark in Trino. We went to the inn called the Resting Unicorn where they had walled enclosures for large parties to camp and be well protected. I forbid all from going into the tavern but allowed the tavern owner to bring a cask of ale of and some mutton stew as some in the party stated they did not eat much at the last stop. Lars impressed with setting the guard as he was making sure nothing else would go wrong. I set up the bed platform where I could stretch out to sleep. Gus slept sitting up with his feet up next to Charlie on the front bench. When I laid down, Pamba came and rubbed my cheek with hers before curling up in the crook of my arm. It was easy to fall asleep as I was mentally and physically tired.
submitted by TheOneTrueAnimeGod to HFY [link] [comments]
Chapter12
Map First Previous Note: Reddit Tech support fixed map bug. Use mouse wheel/ button to zoom and navigate
Standing inside the opulent chamber of the forth tower alone, I made sure nothing was left behind. Heading down to a parking area for carriages and carts off to the right of the main entrance to the keep where my people where gathered. They were mostly settling who could ride where and seeing to their personal gear and supplies. I had a cart specifically for baggage for my people with my cart only for my items and food supplies.
I shocked myself with realization that I had fully adopted a nobility's frame of mind as I now referred to those before me as my people. Looking over as Evito came trotting up slightly out of breath, I gave him a slight nod.
“Come as I must do as I was commanded.” Evito stated as he saluted me with a half bow before leading me to the ornate carriage.
The carriage was well made and really just needed a good coat of paint and some polishing as it showed signs of neglect and years of unuse. The Duke”s insignia had been removed which looked rough where it was sanded off. Evito opening the door motioned me inside.
Closing the door and making a grand show of the door lock before lifting up a metal reinforced window shade. Once the window shades on one side were up and locked into place, Evito then lowering another set above the windows that were louvered that allowed light inside the carriage but had a cheese cloth type of covering matching the deep maroon color of the inside of the carriage so no one could peer outside easily.
“The window shields should be used when under attack. You can open the upper view slots for light and can peer out without showing yourself. As you can see, there is even these three here where you can give orders to the driver. The back two you can give orders to the servants on the tiger perch. If you lift up the seat here in the back, you have storage space as you can see your property there. Here in the front is slightly different. You will notice when you lift up the seat, it looks the same as the back. However, if you reach here,this opens up and you can store high valuables. I would recommend storing your riding gear and overcoats in the front storage. Your Lordship should get a strongbox from the tradesman's guild and put about three silver, four sceats, twenty five koper and a few pelano and some mites in it. Store that strong box in the storage area of the back bench. All bandits and raiders know a noble has money. If you are caught and forced to submit, you can hand over this chest and not lose a fortune.” Evito explained the intricacies of the carriage Duke Boasag gifted me.
“I see. Very good advise. Thank you, Evito.” I said with gratitude.
Closing the upper louvers and then opening the windows, Evito then flipped a switch and lowered the glass window next to the back bench.
"All the windows have this lever as you can see. Slide the lever like this and you can lower the window for more air. Should you wish to close the window, just lift the window up and slide the lever back to keep window in place. You will notice two sword hangers set on each side of the carriage and a shield holder up there. I would recommend you get swords for them and not hang your personal one. Up in the front corner there is your personal water cask and silver cup. It it is strapped to the front right corner of the carriage where only the spigot shows inside. I have seen that it is already filled. Lastly, if you lift these two panels and flip the leg here, it becomes a travel bed. That is all I have to to show and have fulfilled my duty.” Evito stated with a salute and a bowing nod then opened the carriage door where he returned to the keep.
I stepped out and called to my soldiers, Razor and Meowth. I spoke to Lars asking him to place the guard around our party and to make a plan for when we would have two more carriages and two more carts by the time we left Trikath. I then spoke to Razor and Meowth asking them to take up position in the tiger stand of the front two carriages. I then asked Razor to inform the wolf kin brothers to take the tiger position on the third carriage as they would be responsible for guarding that carriage while traveling on the road. Lastly, Pamba was being spoiled by Rina and would be riding with her for the time being.
With everyone saddled and settled, I called out to Lars to head directly to Trikath's tradesman's guild as I entered the carriage. I immediately lowered two of the windows, the side louvers and one back louver as it was a warm day. About twenty minutes later, we entered through the gates of Trikath that looked like any typical medieval city in Europe back on earth. The only difference was that the city streets were much cleaner with a well drained baked brick road.
The tradesman's merchant's guild was similar to Id but larger. Once there, I was met by a thirty something man with black hair and blue eyes.
“Welcome to the Green Trading Company and tradesman's guild. Master Porgisl owner and Guild Master. I am Fronz the manager of this branch. You must be Count Wyatt. I have been informed by Evito to procure items and will help with any other transactions.” Fronz introduced himself with a formal bow and salute.
“Nice to meet you Fronz. I would like to get two more fully fitted out carts without florses. I also will be needing things from the storefront.” I requested with a slight nod.
"As you wish" Fronz stated as he led the way to the storefront.
In the merchant's building storefront, I had Tiana and Rana get the things they would need to do their work. I also had my head cook Big Jake an imposing man come with me. It seemed that size mattered with cooks as a sign their food was good. Anyway, I had Big Jake select cook and service ware for travel and six water casks which he was to fill and install on the carts and the two new carriages. I had Gus and Lorna select some personal grooming items along with towels, linens and mattresses for the Order of Knights that would fit in a cart. I also had them get any other basic items for the road trip that they could think of.
I picked up a very high quality strongbox that was longer but not wider or deeper with four keys. While there, I also picked up a couple of blank keys. Seeing some really nice looking padlocks which were definitely more advanced than what was expected, I bought the entire lot of ten which came with four keys each. Finally, I got several large soft marking chalk blocks with a slate board that was about a foot square.
Finished with shopping, I asked Fronz my wish to hire two stable hands, three drivers and a blacksmith since I did not see those trades previously when I was hiring servants. A little over a half an hour later, I hired two teenage boys and a very well muscled late twenties man named Luke Smith with blonde hair and green eyes. Luke's occupation oddly enough matched the meaning of his surname. The stable boys were both brown haired and brown eyed and around fifteen years old. The first was Brad and the other was Tim. Both were orphans and had no surname. All three were to care for and look after all the florses which I had a total of forty one now. Luke loaded up his anvil, toolbox and bellows in the back of the last cart the baggage one for our party. Both Brad and Tim would be riding a florse making sure the strings of florses were alright and deal with any issues that might arise on that front. The drivers were Matt a twenty four year old young man with brown hair and eyes. Doug a twenty five year old with lite brown hair and green eyes and Jace a twenty eight year old with red hair and green eyes. They were trained to drive carriages and carts for the merchants and guild and now would be driving the carriages with my footmen learning on the fly with the two new carts.
Back at the dock about an hour and half later since I arrived, Fronz approached me as he was writing on a type of clipboard that had a small inkwell attached to it.
“Lord Wyatt, your total bill will be twenty one eight six dinari.” Fronz stated as he read from his invoice.
“Very good.” I replied and took out three silver coins and handed them to Fronz.“Here is eight erytho and fourteen koper.” Fronz stated as he gave my change from his strongbox.
“Great and thank you Fronz.” I replied with a smile and pocketed the change as I was wearing my bluejeans.
“It is a pleasure to be at your assistance Lord Wyatt. We welcome your business anytime.”Fronz stated with a salute and a deep bow.
I then sorted our party again as I had the new carts fitted with mattresses for the Order of Knights. Old Maude would ride in the cart with Reagan and Guntar with apprentice doctors with Sir Jas and Cleef. I had my extra florses put onto four strings where two strings would be tied to the baggage carts. The girls were split up equally between the two new carriages with Lorna assigned with Freya, Illya and Rina in their carriage and Wynna, one of my chambermaids, in the other. The rest of my servants would split up to ride in carts except the cart with my earth items. Big Jake would drive my cart that had food rations that Evito provided and Luke would drive the baggage cart.
Retrieving my tool box, the power station, two swords and my shield which was transferred to my carriage. I also placed a padlock on the five crates that belong to myself that stored all the earth items. I ordered Big Jake to tie my crates down with rope so they would not shift while traveling.
Once everyone was sorted, I called everyone to load up with a grand gesture. However, I insisted Gus riding on the drivers bench with Jace rather than with me as would be normal for the first leg of the journey. I just did not want him to see and ask questions or what I planned to work on.
With a wave of my hand out the carriage door to Lars, our party began traveling out of Trikath and heading straight south on the King's Highway. While we were traveling, I transferred the strongbox contents to the new one as the old strongbox was almost over flowing as I had placed the contents of Shu's box into mine leaving that box with documents for the guild to deal with. Putting my new strongbox along with the power station in the the cubby hide just like my cart had but better crafted as the cubby was a false floor type rather than a blocked off section. I then began working on making a key for the first strongbox with a couple of files from earth. I cut a chalk block into thick pencils which I shaved for dust and used the slate board to help identify the key slot locations and depth.
“I am the man!” I cheered as I turned the key in the lock and it clicked after an hour and a half of work.
Placing in the strongbox five erythro, five sceates and four koper where I locked it up. It was unfortunate that I had no mites but I would resolve that later. I then secured the strongbox under the back bench and the toolbox in the cubby under the front bench. With a satisfied sigh, I drew the curtains of the carriage and laid down as I was still quiet tired from not enough sleep since I arrived in Sionia. I closed my eyes and allowed myself to peacefully nap.
A knock on the door wakened me where I raised up and pulled the curtain back.
“Lord Wyatt we have arrived at a good place to camp for the evening meal.” Announced Lars with Gus standing next to him.
“Very good.” I stated as Gus opened the door to let me out.
“Lord Wyatt, Lady Freya Thor requests to dine with your this evening.” Gus stated with a salute and bow.“ I see. Very well. Please inform the lady of acceptance.” I stated as Rana and Tiana came up.
“Would you like to wash up?” Asked Tiana with a flick of her left ear.
“Yes,that would be nice Tiana.” I answered with a nod.
“Would you like to change into something more comfortable, Lord Wyatt?” Asked Rana as she was seeking to be of service.
“Yes, I would like that. The dark green outfit would do nicely" I answered.
“Lord Wyatt, what kind of meal would you like this evening?” Asked Big Jake with expectancy.
I sighed and shook my head.
“Listen Big Jake, just be responsible with the rations we have. We are expected to be on the road for fifteen days. Just make sure that you do not cause us to run out of food. If we need to buy more or something else, then we will. If you need meat, ask Lars over there to have one of his men go hunting. Just show me what you can do with the rations we have. OK?” I explained as I was not expecting to have to directly deal with this kind of minute detail.
“Yes, Lord Wyatt. I so sorry to upset you!” Big Jake said with his lower lip quivering as he bowed deep.
“I am not upset. You are a very good cook. I would call you a grand chef given your qualifications. As to food questions, I do not know what rations we have. So, making any demand now is not something I should do. In time, you will learn what I like and do not like. But for now, just make the meals as good as you can but do not waste the rations as we have a long journey.” I explained hoping not to cause the gentle giant of a man to cry.
“Thank you, Lord Wyatt. No one has ever allow me to just make anything without direction. I promise to make you an amazing meal.” Big Jake said with pride.
“Very good. Will be looking forward to it. Oh, Lady Freya will be joining me and perhaps Ladies Illya and Rina too. Keep that in mind if the rations provided are to be divided. I would prefer that everyone eats the same general meal. Though, you can vary it for my guests and myself.” I continued to explain my preferences.
“Yes, Lord Wyatt. I will get to work right away.” Big Jake replied and scurried off toward where the cooking fires were lit.
Lukas and Stephan set up a walled curtain enclosure bought by Gus to allow bathing and dressing while on the road that sat between the first two carriages. This was done so the girls group could wash up in privacy. While Freya was washing up, I decided to check on Sir Jas and the knights and see to my own constitutional.
“How are you doing Sir Jas, Cleef, Gunthar and Reagan.” I stated as I walked up to where they were lying before a fire.
“Actually not too bad. We thank you for the mattresses. It was a godsend for us. We rode very comfortably.” Sir Jas stated with a smile and a salute from his lying position.
“Yeah, it is more than what we would have gotten from the Order.” Reagan stated with sour look and a salute.
“He is not wrong. We thank you.” Stated Guntar with a nod and Salute from where he was sitting.
Cleef just made a grunting yes nodding of his head, mouth and cheeks were still swollen and speaking was excruciatingly painful.
“I am glad. Let me know if you need anything.” I stated as I rose from my squatting position near Sir Jas.
“Wait, Lord Wyatt.” Pleaded Sir Jas as I was about to leave.“Yes, what is it?” I replied with curiosity.
“We have all been talking and how we are now traveling confirms our decision. We would like to join your House as Knights. We will have to ask his Grace Duke Avondale who is Lord Marshal for transfer. General Bondi who is over all of the Knight Orders is away in the east reinforcing and insuring the defenses at Caladan, Norrbotten and Red Keep with the third, forth and fifth Order of Knights.” Sir Jas requested with a salute and nod which all the others did as well.
“I am touched. However, you know I do not have any lands or manor. I cannot in good conscious accept.” I replied with a shake of my head and sad look.
“Should you be awarded with a manor or lands would you accept?” Asked Sir Jas hopefully.
“If and I do mean “IF” and I have enough room and can support you properly, then yes, I will accept your vows of fealty.” I promised with a smile.
“We look forward to serving you for we are certain you will be amply rewarded.” Stated Sir Jas with another nod and salute.
After meeting with the Knights, I talked with Old Maude who was resting as the apprentices from doctor Zalzworth were doing most of the work. I allowed her to see to my wounds and apply the elven salve. Next, I sought out the guards to insure the posting of the watch so that everyone had a break and ample time to eat. After this, I met with the wolf kin brothers Conan and Connor. The only way to tell them apart was their eye color. Conan had gray eyes and Connor had olive eyes. I asked them to take the watch equally over the females to ensure no one bothers them. With Razor and Meowth, they said they would stretch their legs then head back to get food and rest up a bit which I agreed with.
Back at my carriage, I was met by Tiana who had set up a bronze bowl next to my carriage and proceeded to remove my shirt and wash my upper body with heavily scented water and soap. When finished, Tiana applied a similarly scented oil with extra attention to my underarms. Rana brought me the green outfit with excitement. Gus and Tiana helped me donned the outfit and Rana quickly went to wash my shirt for it to be ready in the morning. Gus combed my hair and placed the beret hat on my head. I then belted on my sword and gun belt and headed to a table set aside for me to eat the evening meal.
Just as Freya and the girls were finishing up and streaming out of the enclosure, Meowth came jogging up.
“Meow Lord Wyatt, do not be alarmed but there is three people watching our group. Razor Tom is keeping close watch on them. They are made up of a tom kitten, an old tomcat and a meowther. They are in the trees before the fluff fields.” Meowth said as she nodded toward the forest belt and the cotton fields beyond.
“Good to know. Where is Razor?” I asked as I stood up and was waving at Lars to get his attention.
“Razor Tom is over there up in the big meowoak tree, meow Lord Wyatt” Meowth said with a flick of her right ear and stiff tail that actually was pointing in the direction of Razor.
“Well done. Keep watch on the women and restrict them to near the carriages until we sort these guests out. Let Lady Freya know so she can keep the rest calm.” I ordered with a slight nod of my head.
“Purrrfect, meow Lord Wyatt.” Meowth replied as she jogged off to speak with Freya.
“How can I be of service, Lord Wyatt?” Lars asked as he approached followed by a short bow, salute and chest bump.
“My body guards Razor and Meowth spotted three people watching our group. Razor is up in the big oak tree behind me keeping close watch on them.” I stated and paused because of the horrified shocked look on Lars' face.
Lars took a knee with a deep bow of his head said, “I apologize for my failure along with the men under my command. Our first day to be so tainted! I beg for your forgiveness.” Lars said as he groveled before me.
“There is no harm done this time. See that you post your men better and have them do a proper scouting of the area in the future. Last thing I want is to have to go into battle from a surprise attack that was preventable.” I admonished with a stern look and a pointing finger.
“Yes, Lord Wyatt. We your house guards will show you our true worth from this day forward!” Lars promised with a double fist bump to the chest and a salute.
“Good enough. Now, have six men flank them and find out who they are. If they are locals, ask them to return home. If they are not, bring them to me but do not harm them unless they become violent.” I replied with my orders.
“At your command, Lord Wyatt.” Lars said with fist chest bump with salute and immediate ran to where five of his men were relaxing before a fire.
Lars with the five men split up into two groups of three. They then made a very wide circle to get behind the trio watching our party.
Big Jake at this point brought some warmed up bread and a type of green herb dip along with sliced apples and some lamb slices mixed with onion, garlic, two types of squash and a variety of herbs.
“Lady Freya, I am glad you are here. Lady Illya and Lady Rina you too are most welcome.” I stated with a formal bow and sweeping arm as the ladies approached.
“Thank you, Ryan for this little pleasure.” Freya said with a nice smile.
“Yes, we thank you too.” Said Illya quickly also speaking for Rina.
We then seated ourselves and began to eat the bread with the herb dip that was incredibly delicious as Lorna and Gus were pouring a nice sweet vinqua made from berries. The herb dip was amazing as it appeared to be a butter, garlic and herb mixture. However, it also had the undeniable taste of olive oil too.
Just as Tiana was plating out the main dish for our group, Lars approached with the trio. The first was a middle aged man of lite brown hair that was beginning to gray. The second was a late forties to fifties woman with heavily graying hair. The last was a boy of about six to seven years old with brownish red hair and bright green eyes.
“These are the ones watching our camp, Lord Wyatt.” Said Lars with a double fist chest bump and a salute.
“Very good. Well done.” I replied with a nod and a return double chest fist bump salute.
The trio looked very scared especially the boy who was beginning to tear up to cry.
“I am Count Ryan Wyatt. Who are you and why were you spying on our party?” I asked with a raised eyebrow.
“I am Robert Duffy. I was chamberlain and steward to Count Charles Appleton who was assassinated by rogues. This is Hazel Radcliff Housekeeper for Avalon fortress. The little Lord here is Charlie Appleton the rightful heir to the title of Count of the Avalon Western Region and the fortress of Avalon. We humbly ask for your protection." Stated Robert with the begging request.
“I see. Well now. Who is specifically after the young lad?” I asked for this intrigue was something I did not want.
“I suspect the House of Skafhoggr but not the Viscount himself. He is, well, not a person who can strategize. It is more than likely his wife Lady Ludmilla or his mother in law Dowager Baroness Grogda Wode. Their home was Fossberg a small mountain village east of Red Keep that was destroyed by the Empire. They were staying with Viscount Skafhoggr at his manor in Dorn before they came to Fortress Avalon. Viscount Skafhoggr married Lady Ludmilla after only one month introduction. Almost two months after they arrived at Fortress Avalon, my Lord Avondale fell ill after drinking vinqua and died within a half span. Only poison kills a healthy and strong man as my lord was in such a short span. Two days after my lord's death, Lady Beatrice Appleton also fell ill and died within a span. A week later, the young master was attacked and his bodyguard fought to the death to protect him. Hazel grabbed our young lord and fled into city. I received word and joined them. We were attacked again by a mercenary known to do assassinations. I was able to wound him but not before the young lord was stabbed. We fled the city and have been on the run these past three months. It was only a week ago we learned that Viscount Skafhoggr was awarded the title to Fortress Avalon. Please, I beg of you! Help and protect us!” Robert explained with his pleading request.
“ I see.” I said as I sat quiet for a moment to consider what I should do.
“That is clawful!” Said Meowth with her tail straight and hair raised in an angry display.
Pamba jumped out of Rina's lap and climbed onto my shoulder where she whined and rubbed her check against mine. Looking over at Freya, who had the look of fury in her eyes, made my blood run cold. I suspected Freya wanted to kill whoever would harm a child. I also had the urge to do extreme violence against these villains.
“Very well. I Count Ryan Wyatt grant you protection. However, know what you see here is all the retainers I have. I have no home or lands because of the Empire. I am now on my way to see the King who summoned me to appear as soon as I can get there. I must go to Avalon and present myself to Viscount Skafhoggr to see if I have any new messages from the King.” I stated my travel plans to the trio who had the look of horror.
“We can not return to Avalon. The young lord would be killed on sight.” Protested Robert with Hazel clutching the boy tightly as he began to cry.
“Lord Wyatt. You can not take them to Fortress Avalon. It would almost certainly bring attack and more attempts of assassination. I know you can win a battle against a small force. However, you can not protect against an arrow from an assassin who creeps in the shadows unseen.” Freya stated as she breathed her anger despite a calm voice.
“You are correct. However, I have no intention on taking them to Fortress Avalon. I believe that they should travel through the city in a cart with guards where we will catch up to them within a day. Know, I will not stay in Avalon more than one night as etiquette requires as Viscount Skafhoggr will host me for a night's rest from travel.” I stated the plan and I saw Freya sigh a bit of relief with Pamba making a quiet approving barking noise.
“Tell me Robert, do you know of an adventurer party that is honorable in Avalon that I could hire for this journey? I have the feeling that I will need more fighting men. I do not want to select mercenaries as they are only loyal to who pays the highest coin and I can not compete given my circumstances.” I asked as I looked toward Lars with Razor now standing beside him.
“Yes, Zack Talley's party. He is an A ranked adventurer with seven members mostly C ranked with two B ranked.” Robert stated as he recollected the party I had requested.
“What do you think about hiring them to protect the cart you will be riding in disguised as commoners traveling south to the capital? You three would have to change into clothing of commoners with the story of fleeing from the devastation of the Empire. Maybe say you are going to relatives near or in the capital. Could you do this?” I asked explaining my plan further.
“Yes, that would work. I do not think Zack Talley would recognize me as I have only met him twice. His reputation is very good.” Robert stated with renewed hope and relief.
“Alrighty then. That will be the plan. Will need to send a floxis message. Can we do that in Trino?” I asked Robert.
“Yes, there is a small adventurer guild office there. They will take the request and can have them meet you a few millo outside Avalon's main north bridge barbican. The cost of hiring is expensive of at least an erythro maybe as much as a silver if they have recently completed a difficult job.” Robert explained.
“I see. That is good to know. Now, get you something to eat. Once finished, you and Hazel ride in the third cart. Charlie, you can ride in the carriage with me after Hazel cleans you up.” I stated with a sigh and was thankful for the information Robert provided.
Freya took it upon herself to look after Charlie and made sure he had plenty to eat. Charlie was enthralled with Pamba as he fed her some lamb pieces. After dinner, I had Old Maude check on Charlie's wound that turned out to be a deep cut between his side and under his left arm at the bottom of his armpit. Old Maude cleaned the wound and redid the stitches as they were too loose and was the cause for the wound to not been healing.
About an hour later, our party was back on the road. The travel was quiet and Charlie fell asleep with Pamba curled up next to him. Over three hours later, we arrived long after dark in Trino. We went to the inn called the Resting Unicorn where they had walled enclosures for large parties to camp and be well protected. I forbid all from going into the tavern but allowed the tavern owner to bring a cask of ale of and some mutton stew as some in the party stated they did not eat much at the last stop. Lars impressed with setting the guard as he was making sure nothing else would go wrong. I set up the bed platform where I could stretch out to sleep. Gus slept sitting up with his feet up next to Charlie on the front bench. When I laid down, Pamba came and rubbed my cheek with hers before curling up in the crook of my arm. It was easy to fall asleep as I was mentally and physically tired.
2024.05.11 01:41 cgstories The Devil's Bow and Strings (Final)
First Chapter Previous Chapter
Mrs. Vilonte stood alone in the bathroom. In her hands, she cradled the urn containing her husband's ashes. The weight of it was surprisingly light, almost inconsequential, like the flutter of a moth's wing against her palm.
There was a tinge of sadness that grazed her heart. She had spent years by his side, experiencing the highs and lows of marriage. And now he was dead. The memorial service had been sparsely attended, with only a handful offering their condolences.
One photographer seemed overly eager to capture a shot of the grieving widow shedding a tear. But Mrs. Vilonte despised tears—seeing them, feeling them trickle down her face. The moment she felt her eyes sting and tears threatening to spill, she brushed them away before they had a chance to fall.
Now, the house was quiet. But mixed with that lingering sadness was a sense of relief, a subtle liberation that whispered to her from the shadows. He had betrayed her. His infidelity had cut deep.
She unscrewed the lid of the urn. The ashes inside seemed to shimmer in the faint light. Without hesitation, she emptied the contents into the toilet bowl and pulled the lever, watching as they spiraled downwards, swallowed by the rushing water.
XXXXXX
She once cherished two joys during her drives to Gabrielle's violin lessons. One was soaking in the serene landscape while indulging in her beloved soft jazz on the radio. The other was the comforting presence of her daughter beside her in the front passenger seat.
Now, she glanced at the vacant seat, and a wave of melancholy washed over her. Shaking off the emotion, she turned her attention back to the road, gripping the wheel tighter as she accelerated. After a stretch of driving, she eventually arrived at the mansion.
She had often wondered how the maestro accumulated such immense wealth. However, after meeting his benefactor and experiencing the allure of that wealth herself, she began to understand the price he had paid–the soul.
Was striking a deal with such a malevolent entity truly worth it? This question haunted her thoughts daily, and still, she had no definitive answer. The allure of luxury was intoxicating like the addictive sweetness of sugar. The more she indulged in it, the stronger her craving became, leaving her caught in a cycle of desire and uncertainty.
The mansion was as elegant and grand as she remembered. In the front yard, a splendid water fountain glistened under the sunlight. Surrounding the mansion was a manicured garden bloomed with vibrant colors and lush foliage.
Before stepping out of the car, she pulled a handgun from the glove compartment and carefully concealed it in her purse. Today was the day she planned to confront him, intent on demanding him to undo the unfortunate turn her life had taken.
The front door was unlocked and it swung open effortlessly as she entered. It slammed shut behind her without her even touching it, and there was no wind to explain it.
“Ah, Mrs. Vilonte,” a familiar male voice greeted warmly, “It's been far too long since our last meeting. You look lovely as ever!”
She looked up to see the young Salerno, leaning casually against the railing at the top of the split staircase. His smirking face drew a scowl from her. She resented his mocking compliment about her looking “lovely as ever.” She wore the same black dress she'd worn since her husband's memorial, now creased from sleep and carrying a faint scent of dried scotch.
“You've had your fun, Salerno,” she retorted, her voice tinged with restrained anger. "I shouldn't have broken our agreement, and I've learned my lesson.”
“Have you?”
“Yes, and I assure you, it won't happen again.”
“So, what can I do for you?”
“I want my life back.”
Salerno's face was solemn, shrouded in silence. Unexpectedly, he erupted into mocking laughter.
“That's not the nature of consequences, my dear,” he remarked. “You must live with what you've done. Forgiveness is not in my nature.
“You've stripped me of my wealth–”
“It wasn't yours to begin with.”
“I have nothing left!”
“Oh, that isn't completely true. You still have your family.”
“You've torn my family apart! My husband is gone, my son imprisoned and now my daughter, too! You've taken her from me.”
“But soon you'll be reunited.”
“What do you mean?”
He motioned for her to ascend the stairs. “You've arrived just in time to witness something miraculous. Something beautiful!”
Confusion clouded Mrs. Vilonte's face until she heard an agonized moan coming from an upstairs room, followed by a cry she knew all too well.
“Gabrielle,” she gasped.
Salerno nodded. “You're about to be a grandmother to another child.”
The haunting images from the field of mirrors flooded back. The abomination—a monstrous entity—was on the brink of entering their world, and who knew what kind of hell it would bring. Suddenly, a powerful force propelled her towards the stairs, her movements no longer under her control. Before she knew it, she stood face to face with Salerno on the top landing. His grin exposed jagged, menacing teeth, and his eyes were pools of darkness. With talon-like fingers, he grasped her shoulders, their sharp points piercing her skin.
He led her into the master bedroom, where Gabrielle lay in a fitful sleep on a queen-size bed, her movements restless. Her eyes were closed, and sweat had matted her hair to her head. Beside her sat Victoria, whose skin showed signs of decay, and she moved with a robotic, disjointed motion as she wiped the sweat from Gabrielle's face with a cloth. When Victoria moved aside, Mrs. Vilonte shivered, finding herself staring into Victoria's empty, hollow eye sockets.
Salerno leaned in close to her ear, his voice a low whisper as he said, “My children are everywhere, and this newborn will join them, serving me in this world. You should feel honored to be part of something extraordinary, something greater than yourself.”
Slipping free from his hold, she quickly made her way to her daughter's bedside, sweeping aside stray locks from her face. The moment her fingers made contact with her skin, Gabrielle began to calm down.
“Gabby, it's Mom,” she whispered gently, a wave of relief washing over her as her daughter's eyes fluttered open in response.
“Did you enjoy the concert, Mom?” Gabrielle asked, faintly.
“Well, it was an unforgettable performance, that's for sure.”
“Didn’t I do a phenomenal job?”
“Let's talk about it when we get home.”
“Home?”
“Yes, you're coming home with me now.”
“I can't... the baby is going to arrive soon,” Gabrielle gasped, her voice strained with pain. "It hurts too much to move.”
“You’ll have to endure it! We need to get out of here!”
Mrs. Vilonte tossed aside the blanket and firmly grasped her arm, pulling her out of the bed. Gabrielle staggered and lost her footing, sliding down onto the floor. She reached for the edge of the bed, trying to soften her sudden fall.
“Run, run, but wherever you hide,” Salerno sang, “you'll never escape this hell.”
Mrs. Vilonte quickly drew the handgun from her purse, aiming it at him as he approached. Her eyes darted between Salerno and Victoria, the gun wavering between the two.
“Stay back! Just let us go.”
Salerno chuckled. “Mrs. Vilonte, really now? Violence won't solve your problems.”
A deafening bang echoed through the room. He staggered back, pressing a hand to his belly as blood began to seep through his white shirt. His mouth opened, releasing a plume of black smoke that coalesced into the silhouette of a large goat standing upright on its hind legs.
The creature glared at her with red eyes before the smoke dissipated. Then, as if the inevitable march of age had finally caught up to him within seconds, his vitality began to wane. His once smooth skin transformed into a web of wrinkles. His dark eyes dimmed, replaced by a cloudy haze. His jet-black hair turned a shocking shade of white, contrasting starkly with the pallor of his skin. His cheeks began to sink.
Salerno, aged and frail, sank to the floor, his hand stubbornly pressed against his wound as if hoping to halt the flow of blood. “Run, run, but wherever you hide, you'll never escape this hell.”
Mrs. Vilonte seized her daughter's arm, hauling her upright, all the while keeping the gun trained between Salerno and Victoria. Victoria lay collapsed on the floor, reduced to a heap of decomposed skin devoid of bones and muscle.
A deep rumble echoed through the room, causing it to tremble and sway. Cracks snaked across the walls, paint peeling away in tattered sheets. Twisting, blood-red vines crept from the fractures, weaving their way across walls and ceiling. Acting quickly, Mrs. Vilonte seized Gabrielle, who had collapsed to the floor, teeth clenched in pain from another surge of agony. She pulled her up by the arm, forcing her to her feet and pushing her towards the door.
The mansion, once a symbol of pride when she'd taken her daughter for the maestro’s lessons, was transforming into a nightmarish scene. Blood oozed from the decaying walls, while a noxious sulfuric odor filled the air, nearly suffocating Mrs. Vilonte and making each breath a struggle.
She didn't pause for rest or allow Gabrielle a moment to catch her breath until they were safely out of the house and speeding away in the car, putting as much distance as possible between them and the area.
“Mom, stop the car,” Gabrielle groaned in pain from the back seat.
“Hold on tight, honey. We'll go to the nearest hospital.”
“I can't wait anymore!”
“It won't be long. Twenty minutes.”
“I can feel the baby wanting to come out.”
Mrs. Vilonte looked up at the rearview mirror, where she saw Gabrielle's sweaty face scrunched up in pain, gripping her rounded belly with both hands.
“I know this isn’t easy,” she said, “but you need to hold out a little longer. We'll be at the hospital very soon.”
“STOP THE CAR!”
The car came to a sudden stop, jolting Mrs. Vilonte forward and almost throwing Gabrielle off from her seat.
“The baby is coming! Mom, help me!” Gabrielle cried.
“The baby…”
Mrs. Vilonte couldn't shake the thought that this creature couldn't possibly be human. The horrifying acts that it could be capable of frightened her, and the idea that it shared a bloodline with her sickened her even more. Her hand moved to the handgun resting on the passenger seat beside her, considering the one extreme solution she could think of for such an unusual situation.
It wasn't ideal, but she saw no other option.
She took hold of the gun and stepped out of the car, approaching the rear passenger side. Opening the door, she found her daughter propped on her elbows, lifting her dress to reveal the widening canal. Gabrielle let out a menacing growl as she pushed.
Mrs. Vilonte crouched to inspect closer, and instantly felt the unsettling, malevolent presence. The entity seemed to be trying to claw its way out from the depths of the abyss. It inched towards the light, its growls growing louder like a ravenous animal. As Gabrielle pushed further, its red, snouted face broke through, its eyes snapping open to lock onto hers with an intense, black-eyed glare.
Startled, she stumbled back, her hands grasping for the handgun that had slipped from her trembling fingers. As she aimed at the creature before her, an unseen force encircled her hands. She fought to maintain control, but the force twisted the weapon, redirecting it towards her. Suddenly, she found herself staring down the barrel of her gun.
The trees came alive with a flurry of motion as a group of birds took flight, their wings beating frantically against the sky. The once-quiet canopy echoed with the sound of panicked chirps and the movement of feathers, as the startled birds scattered in all directions, seeking refuge from the sudden disturbance caused by a blast.
XXXXX
In the forest of another realm, beyond the physical world, her skin melded seamlessly with the tree's bark, as vines snaked their way around her, ensnaring her limbs. Fungi blossomed from her mouth, rendering her voiceless as her tongue was entwined.
The goat-like creature approached her, brandishing a small mirror, coercing her to confront her distorted reflection. Little remained of her once recognizable features. Worms and roaches had taken residence in the hollow cavity where her nose and right eye had been. With her one remaining eye, she gazed into the mirror, waves of anguish coursing through her being as she beheld the grim reflection of what she had transformed into.
Then, as her ghastly reflection faded, a young man with dark hair and eyes as deep as coal materialized, wearing a black suit, standing with poise on a stage, holding up a violin. Upon closer look, she realized it to be the very violin Gabrielle had once owned.
“Behold what my child has become,” the entity proclaimed. “Are you not as proud of him as I am?”
XXXXX
A bright light beamed down on the young man standing center stage, his violin poised in his hands. His fingers glided over the strings, and with each passing note, the audience, their eyes fixed on him, was drawn deeper into his spell. It wrapped around the listeners' hearts and pulled them into a trance-like state. And as the last notes hung in the air, the audience were suspended in silence and left breathless. Then, they leaped to their feet in thunderous applause.
With a twisted smile, he relished the adulation. He knew he had sway over them, puppet master of their actions. He could simply issue a command, and they would eagerly comply, ready to enact his darkest fantasies. He imagined directing his willing servants to get up on the roof of a towering building and leap into the abyss below, willingly offering themselves as sacrifices.
He envisioned chaos unleashed upon the streets, cars overturned, windows shattered, and buildings engulfed in flames. All at his behest. The world lay at his fingertips, ripe for manipulation and destruction, as he thought about the countless ways he could bring about humanity’s demise.
After his final bow, the young man turned to face the audience, expressing heartfelt thanks for their attendance, eliciting both laughter and warm affection from the crowd. But, amidst the resounding applause, one figure remained still in the front row, confined to a wheelchair. He stared straight at her face which was hidden behind a thin black veil.
Though her body remained motionless in the chair, incapable of even the slightest movement, her one good eye was very much alive, fully engaged with her surroundings. And there was something else in her gaze. He could sense it from the stage, and it made him chuckle. It was an aroma he found intoxicating – the unmistakable stench of fear, seeping from every pore like primal pheromones.
The audience clamored for an encore, yearning to satisfy their insatiable thirst for more music. Their fervent cries echoed through tears. Lifting his violin once more, he hushed the audience with a single motion. The moment the red bow touched the strings, pandemonium broke loose. The spectators lost all self-control, leaping from their seats, clutching their heads, and tearing at their hair in a wild frenzy. They were completely entranced, surrendered to the power of the music.
As his crescendo intensified, a raging fire surged within them, mirrored by the frantic speed of his fingers on the strings. With each chord, they tore at their garments, sinking nails and teeth into one another's flesh. Chaos exploded, mingling with the scent of blood and the sound of rending flesh.
Mrs. Vilonte remained seated in her wheelchair, an impassive observer amidst the chaos, her voice silenced, her limbs still. She bore witness to the madness, her mind ensnared within its chaos, forever lost to its depths.
submitted by cgstories to HorrorStories4U [link] [comments]
Mrs. Vilonte stood alone in the bathroom. In her hands, she cradled the urn containing her husband's ashes. The weight of it was surprisingly light, almost inconsequential, like the flutter of a moth's wing against her palm.
There was a tinge of sadness that grazed her heart. She had spent years by his side, experiencing the highs and lows of marriage. And now he was dead. The memorial service had been sparsely attended, with only a handful offering their condolences.
One photographer seemed overly eager to capture a shot of the grieving widow shedding a tear. But Mrs. Vilonte despised tears—seeing them, feeling them trickle down her face. The moment she felt her eyes sting and tears threatening to spill, she brushed them away before they had a chance to fall.
Now, the house was quiet. But mixed with that lingering sadness was a sense of relief, a subtle liberation that whispered to her from the shadows. He had betrayed her. His infidelity had cut deep.
She unscrewed the lid of the urn. The ashes inside seemed to shimmer in the faint light. Without hesitation, she emptied the contents into the toilet bowl and pulled the lever, watching as they spiraled downwards, swallowed by the rushing water.
XXXXXX
She once cherished two joys during her drives to Gabrielle's violin lessons. One was soaking in the serene landscape while indulging in her beloved soft jazz on the radio. The other was the comforting presence of her daughter beside her in the front passenger seat.
Now, she glanced at the vacant seat, and a wave of melancholy washed over her. Shaking off the emotion, she turned her attention back to the road, gripping the wheel tighter as she accelerated. After a stretch of driving, she eventually arrived at the mansion.
She had often wondered how the maestro accumulated such immense wealth. However, after meeting his benefactor and experiencing the allure of that wealth herself, she began to understand the price he had paid–the soul.
Was striking a deal with such a malevolent entity truly worth it? This question haunted her thoughts daily, and still, she had no definitive answer. The allure of luxury was intoxicating like the addictive sweetness of sugar. The more she indulged in it, the stronger her craving became, leaving her caught in a cycle of desire and uncertainty.
The mansion was as elegant and grand as she remembered. In the front yard, a splendid water fountain glistened under the sunlight. Surrounding the mansion was a manicured garden bloomed with vibrant colors and lush foliage.
Before stepping out of the car, she pulled a handgun from the glove compartment and carefully concealed it in her purse. Today was the day she planned to confront him, intent on demanding him to undo the unfortunate turn her life had taken.
The front door was unlocked and it swung open effortlessly as she entered. It slammed shut behind her without her even touching it, and there was no wind to explain it.
“Ah, Mrs. Vilonte,” a familiar male voice greeted warmly, “It's been far too long since our last meeting. You look lovely as ever!”
She looked up to see the young Salerno, leaning casually against the railing at the top of the split staircase. His smirking face drew a scowl from her. She resented his mocking compliment about her looking “lovely as ever.” She wore the same black dress she'd worn since her husband's memorial, now creased from sleep and carrying a faint scent of dried scotch.
“You've had your fun, Salerno,” she retorted, her voice tinged with restrained anger. "I shouldn't have broken our agreement, and I've learned my lesson.”
“Have you?”
“Yes, and I assure you, it won't happen again.”
“So, what can I do for you?”
“I want my life back.”
Salerno's face was solemn, shrouded in silence. Unexpectedly, he erupted into mocking laughter.
“That's not the nature of consequences, my dear,” he remarked. “You must live with what you've done. Forgiveness is not in my nature.
“You've stripped me of my wealth–”
“It wasn't yours to begin with.”
“I have nothing left!”
“Oh, that isn't completely true. You still have your family.”
“You've torn my family apart! My husband is gone, my son imprisoned and now my daughter, too! You've taken her from me.”
“But soon you'll be reunited.”
“What do you mean?”
He motioned for her to ascend the stairs. “You've arrived just in time to witness something miraculous. Something beautiful!”
Confusion clouded Mrs. Vilonte's face until she heard an agonized moan coming from an upstairs room, followed by a cry she knew all too well.
“Gabrielle,” she gasped.
Salerno nodded. “You're about to be a grandmother to another child.”
The haunting images from the field of mirrors flooded back. The abomination—a monstrous entity—was on the brink of entering their world, and who knew what kind of hell it would bring. Suddenly, a powerful force propelled her towards the stairs, her movements no longer under her control. Before she knew it, she stood face to face with Salerno on the top landing. His grin exposed jagged, menacing teeth, and his eyes were pools of darkness. With talon-like fingers, he grasped her shoulders, their sharp points piercing her skin.
He led her into the master bedroom, where Gabrielle lay in a fitful sleep on a queen-size bed, her movements restless. Her eyes were closed, and sweat had matted her hair to her head. Beside her sat Victoria, whose skin showed signs of decay, and she moved with a robotic, disjointed motion as she wiped the sweat from Gabrielle's face with a cloth. When Victoria moved aside, Mrs. Vilonte shivered, finding herself staring into Victoria's empty, hollow eye sockets.
Salerno leaned in close to her ear, his voice a low whisper as he said, “My children are everywhere, and this newborn will join them, serving me in this world. You should feel honored to be part of something extraordinary, something greater than yourself.”
Slipping free from his hold, she quickly made her way to her daughter's bedside, sweeping aside stray locks from her face. The moment her fingers made contact with her skin, Gabrielle began to calm down.
“Gabby, it's Mom,” she whispered gently, a wave of relief washing over her as her daughter's eyes fluttered open in response.
“Did you enjoy the concert, Mom?” Gabrielle asked, faintly.
“Well, it was an unforgettable performance, that's for sure.”
“Didn’t I do a phenomenal job?”
“Let's talk about it when we get home.”
“Home?”
“Yes, you're coming home with me now.”
“I can't... the baby is going to arrive soon,” Gabrielle gasped, her voice strained with pain. "It hurts too much to move.”
“You’ll have to endure it! We need to get out of here!”
Mrs. Vilonte tossed aside the blanket and firmly grasped her arm, pulling her out of the bed. Gabrielle staggered and lost her footing, sliding down onto the floor. She reached for the edge of the bed, trying to soften her sudden fall.
“Run, run, but wherever you hide,” Salerno sang, “you'll never escape this hell.”
Mrs. Vilonte quickly drew the handgun from her purse, aiming it at him as he approached. Her eyes darted between Salerno and Victoria, the gun wavering between the two.
“Stay back! Just let us go.”
Salerno chuckled. “Mrs. Vilonte, really now? Violence won't solve your problems.”
A deafening bang echoed through the room. He staggered back, pressing a hand to his belly as blood began to seep through his white shirt. His mouth opened, releasing a plume of black smoke that coalesced into the silhouette of a large goat standing upright on its hind legs.
The creature glared at her with red eyes before the smoke dissipated. Then, as if the inevitable march of age had finally caught up to him within seconds, his vitality began to wane. His once smooth skin transformed into a web of wrinkles. His dark eyes dimmed, replaced by a cloudy haze. His jet-black hair turned a shocking shade of white, contrasting starkly with the pallor of his skin. His cheeks began to sink.
Salerno, aged and frail, sank to the floor, his hand stubbornly pressed against his wound as if hoping to halt the flow of blood. “Run, run, but wherever you hide, you'll never escape this hell.”
Mrs. Vilonte seized her daughter's arm, hauling her upright, all the while keeping the gun trained between Salerno and Victoria. Victoria lay collapsed on the floor, reduced to a heap of decomposed skin devoid of bones and muscle.
A deep rumble echoed through the room, causing it to tremble and sway. Cracks snaked across the walls, paint peeling away in tattered sheets. Twisting, blood-red vines crept from the fractures, weaving their way across walls and ceiling. Acting quickly, Mrs. Vilonte seized Gabrielle, who had collapsed to the floor, teeth clenched in pain from another surge of agony. She pulled her up by the arm, forcing her to her feet and pushing her towards the door.
The mansion, once a symbol of pride when she'd taken her daughter for the maestro’s lessons, was transforming into a nightmarish scene. Blood oozed from the decaying walls, while a noxious sulfuric odor filled the air, nearly suffocating Mrs. Vilonte and making each breath a struggle.
She didn't pause for rest or allow Gabrielle a moment to catch her breath until they were safely out of the house and speeding away in the car, putting as much distance as possible between them and the area.
“Mom, stop the car,” Gabrielle groaned in pain from the back seat.
“Hold on tight, honey. We'll go to the nearest hospital.”
“I can't wait anymore!”
“It won't be long. Twenty minutes.”
“I can feel the baby wanting to come out.”
Mrs. Vilonte looked up at the rearview mirror, where she saw Gabrielle's sweaty face scrunched up in pain, gripping her rounded belly with both hands.
“I know this isn’t easy,” she said, “but you need to hold out a little longer. We'll be at the hospital very soon.”
“STOP THE CAR!”
The car came to a sudden stop, jolting Mrs. Vilonte forward and almost throwing Gabrielle off from her seat.
“The baby is coming! Mom, help me!” Gabrielle cried.
“The baby…”
Mrs. Vilonte couldn't shake the thought that this creature couldn't possibly be human. The horrifying acts that it could be capable of frightened her, and the idea that it shared a bloodline with her sickened her even more. Her hand moved to the handgun resting on the passenger seat beside her, considering the one extreme solution she could think of for such an unusual situation.
It wasn't ideal, but she saw no other option.
She took hold of the gun and stepped out of the car, approaching the rear passenger side. Opening the door, she found her daughter propped on her elbows, lifting her dress to reveal the widening canal. Gabrielle let out a menacing growl as she pushed.
Mrs. Vilonte crouched to inspect closer, and instantly felt the unsettling, malevolent presence. The entity seemed to be trying to claw its way out from the depths of the abyss. It inched towards the light, its growls growing louder like a ravenous animal. As Gabrielle pushed further, its red, snouted face broke through, its eyes snapping open to lock onto hers with an intense, black-eyed glare.
Startled, she stumbled back, her hands grasping for the handgun that had slipped from her trembling fingers. As she aimed at the creature before her, an unseen force encircled her hands. She fought to maintain control, but the force twisted the weapon, redirecting it towards her. Suddenly, she found herself staring down the barrel of her gun.
The trees came alive with a flurry of motion as a group of birds took flight, their wings beating frantically against the sky. The once-quiet canopy echoed with the sound of panicked chirps and the movement of feathers, as the startled birds scattered in all directions, seeking refuge from the sudden disturbance caused by a blast.
XXXXX
In the forest of another realm, beyond the physical world, her skin melded seamlessly with the tree's bark, as vines snaked their way around her, ensnaring her limbs. Fungi blossomed from her mouth, rendering her voiceless as her tongue was entwined.
The goat-like creature approached her, brandishing a small mirror, coercing her to confront her distorted reflection. Little remained of her once recognizable features. Worms and roaches had taken residence in the hollow cavity where her nose and right eye had been. With her one remaining eye, she gazed into the mirror, waves of anguish coursing through her being as she beheld the grim reflection of what she had transformed into.
Then, as her ghastly reflection faded, a young man with dark hair and eyes as deep as coal materialized, wearing a black suit, standing with poise on a stage, holding up a violin. Upon closer look, she realized it to be the very violin Gabrielle had once owned.
“Behold what my child has become,” the entity proclaimed. “Are you not as proud of him as I am?”
XXXXX
A bright light beamed down on the young man standing center stage, his violin poised in his hands. His fingers glided over the strings, and with each passing note, the audience, their eyes fixed on him, was drawn deeper into his spell. It wrapped around the listeners' hearts and pulled them into a trance-like state. And as the last notes hung in the air, the audience were suspended in silence and left breathless. Then, they leaped to their feet in thunderous applause.
With a twisted smile, he relished the adulation. He knew he had sway over them, puppet master of their actions. He could simply issue a command, and they would eagerly comply, ready to enact his darkest fantasies. He imagined directing his willing servants to get up on the roof of a towering building and leap into the abyss below, willingly offering themselves as sacrifices.
He envisioned chaos unleashed upon the streets, cars overturned, windows shattered, and buildings engulfed in flames. All at his behest. The world lay at his fingertips, ripe for manipulation and destruction, as he thought about the countless ways he could bring about humanity’s demise.
After his final bow, the young man turned to face the audience, expressing heartfelt thanks for their attendance, eliciting both laughter and warm affection from the crowd. But, amidst the resounding applause, one figure remained still in the front row, confined to a wheelchair. He stared straight at her face which was hidden behind a thin black veil.
Though her body remained motionless in the chair, incapable of even the slightest movement, her one good eye was very much alive, fully engaged with her surroundings. And there was something else in her gaze. He could sense it from the stage, and it made him chuckle. It was an aroma he found intoxicating – the unmistakable stench of fear, seeping from every pore like primal pheromones.
The audience clamored for an encore, yearning to satisfy their insatiable thirst for more music. Their fervent cries echoed through tears. Lifting his violin once more, he hushed the audience with a single motion. The moment the red bow touched the strings, pandemonium broke loose. The spectators lost all self-control, leaping from their seats, clutching their heads, and tearing at their hair in a wild frenzy. They were completely entranced, surrendered to the power of the music.
As his crescendo intensified, a raging fire surged within them, mirrored by the frantic speed of his fingers on the strings. With each chord, they tore at their garments, sinking nails and teeth into one another's flesh. Chaos exploded, mingling with the scent of blood and the sound of rending flesh.
Mrs. Vilonte remained seated in her wheelchair, an impassive observer amidst the chaos, her voice silenced, her limbs still. She bore witness to the madness, her mind ensnared within its chaos, forever lost to its depths.
2024.05.11 01:17 cgstories The Devil's Bow and Strings (Final)
First Chapter Previous Chapter
Mrs. Vilonte stood alone in the bathroom. In her hands, she cradled the urn containing her husband's ashes. The weight of it was surprisingly light, almost inconsequential, like the flutter of a moth's wing against her palm.
There was a tinge of sadness that grazed her heart. She had spent years by his side, experiencing the highs and lows of marriage. And now he was dead. The memorial service had been sparsely attended, with only a handful offering their condolences.
One photographer seemed overly eager to capture a shot of the grieving widow shedding a tear. But Mrs. Vilonte despised tears—seeing them, feeling them trickle down her face. The moment she felt her eyes sting and tears threatening to spill, she brushed them away before they had a chance to fall.
Now, the house was quiet. But mixed with that lingering sadness was a sense of relief, a subtle liberation that whispered to her from the shadows. He had betrayed her. His infidelity had cut deep.
She unscrewed the lid of the urn. The ashes inside seemed to shimmer in the faint light. Without hesitation, she emptied the contents into the toilet bowl and pulled the lever, watching as they spiraled downwards, swallowed by the rushing water.
XXXXXX
She once cherished two joys during her drives to Gabrielle's violin lessons. One was soaking in the serene landscape while indulging in her beloved soft jazz on the radio. The other was the comforting presence of her daughter beside her in the front passenger seat.
Now, she glanced at the vacant seat, and a wave of melancholy washed over her. Shaking off the emotion, she turned her attention back to the road, gripping the wheel tighter as she accelerated. After a stretch of driving, she eventually arrived at the mansion.
She had often wondered how the maestro accumulated such immense wealth. However, after meeting his benefactor and experiencing the allure of that wealth herself, she began to understand the price he had paid–the soul.
Was striking a deal with such a malevolent entity truly worth it? This question haunted her thoughts daily, and still, she had no definitive answer. The allure of luxury was intoxicating like the addictive sweetness of sugar. The more she indulged in it, the stronger her craving became, leaving her caught in a cycle of desire and uncertainty.
The mansion was as elegant and grand as she remembered. In the front yard, a splendid water fountain glistened under the sunlight. Surrounding the mansion was a manicured garden bloomed with vibrant colors and lush foliage.
Before stepping out of the car, she pulled a handgun from the glove compartment and carefully concealed it in her purse. Today was the day she planned to confront him, intent on demanding him to undo the unfortunate turn her life had taken.
The front door was unlocked and it swung open effortlessly as she entered. It slammed shut behind her without her even touching it, and there was no wind to explain it.
“Ah, Mrs. Vilonte,” a familiar male voice greeted warmly, “It's been far too long since our last meeting. You look lovely as ever!”
She looked up to see the young Salerno, leaning casually against the railing at the top of the split staircase. His smirking face drew a scowl from her. She resented his mocking compliment about her looking “lovely as ever.” She wore the same black dress she'd worn since her husband's memorial, now creased from sleep and carrying a faint scent of dried scotch.
“You've had your fun, Salerno,” she retorted, her voice tinged with restrained anger. "I shouldn't have broken our agreement, and I've learned my lesson.”
“Have you?”
“Yes, and I assure you, it won't happen again.”
“So, what can I do for you?”
“I want my life back.”
Salerno's face was solemn, shrouded in silence. Unexpectedly, he erupted into mocking laughter.
“That's not the nature of consequences, my dear,” he remarked. “You must live with what you've done. Forgiveness is not in my nature.
“You've stripped me of my wealth–”
“It wasn't yours to begin with.”
“I have nothing left!”
“Oh, that isn't completely true. You still have your family.”
“You've torn my family apart! My husband is gone, my son imprisoned and now my daughter, too! You've taken her from me.”
“But soon you'll be reunited.”
“What do you mean?”
He motioned for her to ascend the stairs. “You've arrived just in time to witness something miraculous. Something beautiful!”
Confusion clouded Mrs. Vilonte's face until she heard an agonized moan coming from an upstairs room, followed by a cry she knew all too well.
“Gabrielle,” she gasped.
Salerno nodded. “You're about to be a grandmother to another child.”
The haunting images from the field of mirrors flooded back. The abomination—a monstrous entity—was on the brink of entering their world, and who knew what kind of hell it would bring. Suddenly, a powerful force propelled her towards the stairs, her movements no longer under her control. Before she knew it, she stood face to face with Salerno on the top landing. His grin exposed jagged, menacing teeth, and his eyes were pools of darkness. With talon-like fingers, he grasped her shoulders, their sharp points piercing her skin.
He led her into the master bedroom, where Gabrielle lay in a fitful sleep on a queen-size bed, her movements restless. Her eyes were closed, and sweat had matted her hair to her head. Beside her sat Victoria, whose skin showed signs of decay, and she moved with a robotic, disjointed motion as she wiped the sweat from Gabrielle's face with a cloth. When Victoria moved aside, Mrs. Vilonte shivered, finding herself staring into Victoria's empty, hollow eye sockets.
Salerno leaned in close to her ear, his voice a low whisper as he said, “My children are everywhere, and this newborn will join them, serving me in this world. You should feel honored to be part of something extraordinary, something greater than yourself.”
Slipping free from his hold, she quickly made her way to her daughter's bedside, sweeping aside stray locks from her face. The moment her fingers made contact with her skin, Gabrielle began to calm down.
“Gabby, it's Mom,” she whispered gently, a wave of relief washing over her as her daughter's eyes fluttered open in response.
“Did you enjoy the concert, Mom?” Gabrielle asked, faintly.
“Well, it was an unforgettable performance, that's for sure.”
“Didn’t I do a phenomenal job?”
“Let's talk about it when we get home.”
“Home?”
“Yes, you're coming home with me now.”
“I can't... the baby is going to arrive soon,” Gabrielle gasped, her voice strained with pain. "It hurts too much to move.”
“You’ll have to endure it! We need to get out of here!”
Mrs. Vilonte tossed aside the blanket and firmly grasped her arm, pulling her out of the bed. Gabrielle staggered and lost her footing, sliding down onto the floor. She reached for the edge of the bed, trying to soften her sudden fall.
“Run, run, but wherever you hide,” Salerno sang, “you'll never escape this hell.”
Mrs. Vilonte quickly drew the handgun from her purse, aiming it at him as he approached. Her eyes darted between Salerno and Victoria, the gun wavering between the two.
“Stay back! Just let us go.”
Salerno chuckled. “Mrs. Vilonte, really now? Violence won't solve your problems.”
A deafening bang echoed through the room. He staggered back, pressing a hand to his belly as blood began to seep through his white shirt. His mouth opened, releasing a plume of black smoke that coalesced into the silhouette of a large goat standing upright on its hind legs.
The creature glared at her with red eyes before the smoke dissipated. Then, as if the inevitable march of age had finally caught up to him within seconds, his vitality began to wane. His once smooth skin transformed into a web of wrinkles. His dark eyes dimmed, replaced by a cloudy haze. His jet-black hair turned a shocking shade of white, contrasting starkly with the pallor of his skin. His cheeks began to sink.
Salerno, aged and frail, sank to the floor, his hand stubbornly pressed against his wound as if hoping to halt the flow of blood. “Run, run, but wherever you hide, you'll never escape this hell.”
Mrs. Vilonte seized her daughter's arm, hauling her upright, all the while keeping the gun trained between Salerno and Victoria. Victoria lay collapsed on the floor, reduced to a heap of decomposed skin devoid of bones and muscle.
A deep rumble echoed through the room, causing it to tremble and sway. Cracks snaked across the walls, paint peeling away in tattered sheets. Twisting, blood-red vines crept from the fractures, weaving their way across walls and ceiling. Acting quickly, Mrs. Vilonte seized Gabrielle, who had collapsed to the floor, teeth clenched in pain from another surge of agony. She pulled her up by the arm, forcing her to her feet and pushing her towards the door.
The mansion, once a symbol of pride when she'd taken her daughter for the maestro’s lessons, was transforming into a nightmarish scene. Blood oozed from the decaying walls, while a noxious sulfuric odor filled the air, nearly suffocating Mrs. Vilonte and making each breath a struggle.
She didn't pause for rest or allow Gabrielle a moment to catch her breath until they were safely out of the house and speeding away in the car, putting as much distance as possible between them and the area.
“Mom, stop the car,” Gabrielle groaned in pain from the back seat.
“Hold on tight, honey. We'll go to the nearest hospital.”
“I can't wait anymore!”
“It won't be long. Twenty minutes.”
“I can feel the baby wanting to come out.”
Mrs. Vilonte looked up at the rearview mirror, where she saw Gabrielle's sweaty face scrunched up in pain, gripping her rounded belly with both hands.
“I know this isn’t easy,” she said, “but you need to hold out a little longer. We'll be at the hospital very soon.”
“STOP THE CAR!”
The car came to a sudden stop, jolting Mrs. Vilonte forward and almost throwing Gabrielle off from her seat.
“The baby is coming! Mom, help me!” Gabrielle cried.
“The baby…”
Mrs. Vilonte couldn't shake the thought that this creature couldn't possibly be human. The horrifying acts that it could be capable of frightened her, and the idea that it shared a bloodline with her sickened her even more. Her hand moved to the handgun resting on the passenger seat beside her, considering the one extreme solution she could think of for such an unusual situation.
It wasn't ideal, but she saw no other option.
She took hold of the gun and stepped out of the car, approaching the rear passenger side. Opening the door, she found her daughter propped on her elbows, lifting her dress to reveal the widening canal. Gabrielle let out a menacing growl as she pushed.
Mrs. Vilonte crouched to inspect closer, and instantly felt the unsettling, malevolent presence. The entity seemed to be trying to claw its way out from the depths of the abyss. It inched towards the light, its growls growing louder like a ravenous animal. As Gabrielle pushed further, its red, snouted face broke through, its eyes snapping open to lock onto hers with an intense, black-eyed glare.
Startled, she stumbled back, her hands grasping for the handgun that had slipped from her trembling fingers. As she aimed at the creature before her, an unseen force encircled her hands. She fought to maintain control, but the force twisted the weapon, redirecting it towards her. Suddenly, she found herself staring down the barrel of her gun.
The trees came alive with a flurry of motion as a group of birds took flight, their wings beating frantically against the sky. The once-quiet canopy echoed with the sound of panicked chirps and the movement of feathers, as the startled birds scattered in all directions, seeking refuge from the sudden disturbance caused by a blast.
XXXXX
In the forest of another realm, beyond the physical world, her skin melded seamlessly with the tree's bark, as vines snaked their way around her, ensnaring her limbs. Fungi blossomed from her mouth, rendering her voiceless as her tongue was entwined.
The goat-like creature approached her, brandishing a small mirror, coercing her to confront her distorted reflection. Little remained of her once recognizable features. Worms and roaches had taken residence in the hollow cavity where her nose and right eye had been. With her one remaining eye, she gazed into the mirror, waves of anguish coursing through her being as she beheld the grim reflection of what she had transformed into.
Then, as her ghastly reflection faded, a young man with dark hair and eyes as deep as coal materialized, wearing a black suit, standing with poise on a stage, holding up a violin. Upon closer look, she realized it to be the very violin Gabrielle had once owned.
“Behold what my child has become,” the entity proclaimed. “Are you not as proud of him as I am?”
XXXXX
A bright light beamed down on the young man standing center stage, his violin poised in his hands. His fingers glided over the strings, and with each passing note, the audience, their eyes fixed on him, was drawn deeper into his spell. It wrapped around the listeners' hearts and pulled them into a trance-like state. And as the last notes hung in the air, the audience were suspended in silence and left breathless. Then, they leaped to their feet in thunderous applause.
With a twisted smile, he relished the adulation. He knew he had sway over them, puppet master of their actions. He could simply issue a command, and they would eagerly comply, ready to enact his darkest fantasies. He imagined directing his willing servants to get up on the roof of a towering building and leap into the abyss below, willingly offering themselves as sacrifices.
He envisioned chaos unleashed upon the streets, cars overturned, windows shattered, and buildings engulfed in flames. All at his behest. The world lay at his fingertips, ripe for manipulation and destruction, as he thought about the countless ways he could bring about humanity’s demise.
After his final bow, the young man turned to face the audience, expressing heartfelt thanks for their attendance, eliciting both laughter and warm affection from the crowd. But, amidst the resounding applause, one figure remained still in the front row, confined to a wheelchair. He stared straight at her face which was hidden behind a thin black veil.
Though her body remained motionless in the chair, incapable of even the slightest movement, her one good eye was very much alive, fully engaged with her surroundings. And there was something else in her gaze. He could sense it from the stage, and it made him chuckle. It was an aroma he found intoxicating – the unmistakable stench of fear, seeping from every pore like primal pheromones.
The audience clamored for an encore, yearning to satisfy their insatiable thirst for more music. Their fervent cries echoed through tears. Lifting his violin once more, he hushed the audience with a single motion. The moment the red bow touched the strings, pandemonium broke loose. The spectators lost all self-control, leaping from their seats, clutching their heads, and tearing at their hair in a wild frenzy. They were completely entranced, surrendered to the power of the music.
As his crescendo intensified, a raging fire surged within them, mirrored by the frantic speed of his fingers on the strings. With each chord, they tore at their garments, sinking nails and teeth into one another's flesh. Chaos exploded, mingling with the scent of blood and the sound of rending flesh.
Mrs. Vilonte remained seated in her wheelchair, an impassive observer amidst the chaos, her voice silenced, her limbs still. She bore witness to the madness, her mind ensnared within its chaos, forever lost to its depths.
submitted by cgstories to DarkTales [link] [comments]
Mrs. Vilonte stood alone in the bathroom. In her hands, she cradled the urn containing her husband's ashes. The weight of it was surprisingly light, almost inconsequential, like the flutter of a moth's wing against her palm.
There was a tinge of sadness that grazed her heart. She had spent years by his side, experiencing the highs and lows of marriage. And now he was dead. The memorial service had been sparsely attended, with only a handful offering their condolences.
One photographer seemed overly eager to capture a shot of the grieving widow shedding a tear. But Mrs. Vilonte despised tears—seeing them, feeling them trickle down her face. The moment she felt her eyes sting and tears threatening to spill, she brushed them away before they had a chance to fall.
Now, the house was quiet. But mixed with that lingering sadness was a sense of relief, a subtle liberation that whispered to her from the shadows. He had betrayed her. His infidelity had cut deep.
She unscrewed the lid of the urn. The ashes inside seemed to shimmer in the faint light. Without hesitation, she emptied the contents into the toilet bowl and pulled the lever, watching as they spiraled downwards, swallowed by the rushing water.
XXXXXX
She once cherished two joys during her drives to Gabrielle's violin lessons. One was soaking in the serene landscape while indulging in her beloved soft jazz on the radio. The other was the comforting presence of her daughter beside her in the front passenger seat.
Now, she glanced at the vacant seat, and a wave of melancholy washed over her. Shaking off the emotion, she turned her attention back to the road, gripping the wheel tighter as she accelerated. After a stretch of driving, she eventually arrived at the mansion.
She had often wondered how the maestro accumulated such immense wealth. However, after meeting his benefactor and experiencing the allure of that wealth herself, she began to understand the price he had paid–the soul.
Was striking a deal with such a malevolent entity truly worth it? This question haunted her thoughts daily, and still, she had no definitive answer. The allure of luxury was intoxicating like the addictive sweetness of sugar. The more she indulged in it, the stronger her craving became, leaving her caught in a cycle of desire and uncertainty.
The mansion was as elegant and grand as she remembered. In the front yard, a splendid water fountain glistened under the sunlight. Surrounding the mansion was a manicured garden bloomed with vibrant colors and lush foliage.
Before stepping out of the car, she pulled a handgun from the glove compartment and carefully concealed it in her purse. Today was the day she planned to confront him, intent on demanding him to undo the unfortunate turn her life had taken.
The front door was unlocked and it swung open effortlessly as she entered. It slammed shut behind her without her even touching it, and there was no wind to explain it.
“Ah, Mrs. Vilonte,” a familiar male voice greeted warmly, “It's been far too long since our last meeting. You look lovely as ever!”
She looked up to see the young Salerno, leaning casually against the railing at the top of the split staircase. His smirking face drew a scowl from her. She resented his mocking compliment about her looking “lovely as ever.” She wore the same black dress she'd worn since her husband's memorial, now creased from sleep and carrying a faint scent of dried scotch.
“You've had your fun, Salerno,” she retorted, her voice tinged with restrained anger. "I shouldn't have broken our agreement, and I've learned my lesson.”
“Have you?”
“Yes, and I assure you, it won't happen again.”
“So, what can I do for you?”
“I want my life back.”
Salerno's face was solemn, shrouded in silence. Unexpectedly, he erupted into mocking laughter.
“That's not the nature of consequences, my dear,” he remarked. “You must live with what you've done. Forgiveness is not in my nature.
“You've stripped me of my wealth–”
“It wasn't yours to begin with.”
“I have nothing left!”
“Oh, that isn't completely true. You still have your family.”
“You've torn my family apart! My husband is gone, my son imprisoned and now my daughter, too! You've taken her from me.”
“But soon you'll be reunited.”
“What do you mean?”
He motioned for her to ascend the stairs. “You've arrived just in time to witness something miraculous. Something beautiful!”
Confusion clouded Mrs. Vilonte's face until she heard an agonized moan coming from an upstairs room, followed by a cry she knew all too well.
“Gabrielle,” she gasped.
Salerno nodded. “You're about to be a grandmother to another child.”
The haunting images from the field of mirrors flooded back. The abomination—a monstrous entity—was on the brink of entering their world, and who knew what kind of hell it would bring. Suddenly, a powerful force propelled her towards the stairs, her movements no longer under her control. Before she knew it, she stood face to face with Salerno on the top landing. His grin exposed jagged, menacing teeth, and his eyes were pools of darkness. With talon-like fingers, he grasped her shoulders, their sharp points piercing her skin.
He led her into the master bedroom, where Gabrielle lay in a fitful sleep on a queen-size bed, her movements restless. Her eyes were closed, and sweat had matted her hair to her head. Beside her sat Victoria, whose skin showed signs of decay, and she moved with a robotic, disjointed motion as she wiped the sweat from Gabrielle's face with a cloth. When Victoria moved aside, Mrs. Vilonte shivered, finding herself staring into Victoria's empty, hollow eye sockets.
Salerno leaned in close to her ear, his voice a low whisper as he said, “My children are everywhere, and this newborn will join them, serving me in this world. You should feel honored to be part of something extraordinary, something greater than yourself.”
Slipping free from his hold, she quickly made her way to her daughter's bedside, sweeping aside stray locks from her face. The moment her fingers made contact with her skin, Gabrielle began to calm down.
“Gabby, it's Mom,” she whispered gently, a wave of relief washing over her as her daughter's eyes fluttered open in response.
“Did you enjoy the concert, Mom?” Gabrielle asked, faintly.
“Well, it was an unforgettable performance, that's for sure.”
“Didn’t I do a phenomenal job?”
“Let's talk about it when we get home.”
“Home?”
“Yes, you're coming home with me now.”
“I can't... the baby is going to arrive soon,” Gabrielle gasped, her voice strained with pain. "It hurts too much to move.”
“You’ll have to endure it! We need to get out of here!”
Mrs. Vilonte tossed aside the blanket and firmly grasped her arm, pulling her out of the bed. Gabrielle staggered and lost her footing, sliding down onto the floor. She reached for the edge of the bed, trying to soften her sudden fall.
“Run, run, but wherever you hide,” Salerno sang, “you'll never escape this hell.”
Mrs. Vilonte quickly drew the handgun from her purse, aiming it at him as he approached. Her eyes darted between Salerno and Victoria, the gun wavering between the two.
“Stay back! Just let us go.”
Salerno chuckled. “Mrs. Vilonte, really now? Violence won't solve your problems.”
A deafening bang echoed through the room. He staggered back, pressing a hand to his belly as blood began to seep through his white shirt. His mouth opened, releasing a plume of black smoke that coalesced into the silhouette of a large goat standing upright on its hind legs.
The creature glared at her with red eyes before the smoke dissipated. Then, as if the inevitable march of age had finally caught up to him within seconds, his vitality began to wane. His once smooth skin transformed into a web of wrinkles. His dark eyes dimmed, replaced by a cloudy haze. His jet-black hair turned a shocking shade of white, contrasting starkly with the pallor of his skin. His cheeks began to sink.
Salerno, aged and frail, sank to the floor, his hand stubbornly pressed against his wound as if hoping to halt the flow of blood. “Run, run, but wherever you hide, you'll never escape this hell.”
Mrs. Vilonte seized her daughter's arm, hauling her upright, all the while keeping the gun trained between Salerno and Victoria. Victoria lay collapsed on the floor, reduced to a heap of decomposed skin devoid of bones and muscle.
A deep rumble echoed through the room, causing it to tremble and sway. Cracks snaked across the walls, paint peeling away in tattered sheets. Twisting, blood-red vines crept from the fractures, weaving their way across walls and ceiling. Acting quickly, Mrs. Vilonte seized Gabrielle, who had collapsed to the floor, teeth clenched in pain from another surge of agony. She pulled her up by the arm, forcing her to her feet and pushing her towards the door.
The mansion, once a symbol of pride when she'd taken her daughter for the maestro’s lessons, was transforming into a nightmarish scene. Blood oozed from the decaying walls, while a noxious sulfuric odor filled the air, nearly suffocating Mrs. Vilonte and making each breath a struggle.
She didn't pause for rest or allow Gabrielle a moment to catch her breath until they were safely out of the house and speeding away in the car, putting as much distance as possible between them and the area.
“Mom, stop the car,” Gabrielle groaned in pain from the back seat.
“Hold on tight, honey. We'll go to the nearest hospital.”
“I can't wait anymore!”
“It won't be long. Twenty minutes.”
“I can feel the baby wanting to come out.”
Mrs. Vilonte looked up at the rearview mirror, where she saw Gabrielle's sweaty face scrunched up in pain, gripping her rounded belly with both hands.
“I know this isn’t easy,” she said, “but you need to hold out a little longer. We'll be at the hospital very soon.”
“STOP THE CAR!”
The car came to a sudden stop, jolting Mrs. Vilonte forward and almost throwing Gabrielle off from her seat.
“The baby is coming! Mom, help me!” Gabrielle cried.
“The baby…”
Mrs. Vilonte couldn't shake the thought that this creature couldn't possibly be human. The horrifying acts that it could be capable of frightened her, and the idea that it shared a bloodline with her sickened her even more. Her hand moved to the handgun resting on the passenger seat beside her, considering the one extreme solution she could think of for such an unusual situation.
It wasn't ideal, but she saw no other option.
She took hold of the gun and stepped out of the car, approaching the rear passenger side. Opening the door, she found her daughter propped on her elbows, lifting her dress to reveal the widening canal. Gabrielle let out a menacing growl as she pushed.
Mrs. Vilonte crouched to inspect closer, and instantly felt the unsettling, malevolent presence. The entity seemed to be trying to claw its way out from the depths of the abyss. It inched towards the light, its growls growing louder like a ravenous animal. As Gabrielle pushed further, its red, snouted face broke through, its eyes snapping open to lock onto hers with an intense, black-eyed glare.
Startled, she stumbled back, her hands grasping for the handgun that had slipped from her trembling fingers. As she aimed at the creature before her, an unseen force encircled her hands. She fought to maintain control, but the force twisted the weapon, redirecting it towards her. Suddenly, she found herself staring down the barrel of her gun.
The trees came alive with a flurry of motion as a group of birds took flight, their wings beating frantically against the sky. The once-quiet canopy echoed with the sound of panicked chirps and the movement of feathers, as the startled birds scattered in all directions, seeking refuge from the sudden disturbance caused by a blast.
XXXXX
In the forest of another realm, beyond the physical world, her skin melded seamlessly with the tree's bark, as vines snaked their way around her, ensnaring her limbs. Fungi blossomed from her mouth, rendering her voiceless as her tongue was entwined.
The goat-like creature approached her, brandishing a small mirror, coercing her to confront her distorted reflection. Little remained of her once recognizable features. Worms and roaches had taken residence in the hollow cavity where her nose and right eye had been. With her one remaining eye, she gazed into the mirror, waves of anguish coursing through her being as she beheld the grim reflection of what she had transformed into.
Then, as her ghastly reflection faded, a young man with dark hair and eyes as deep as coal materialized, wearing a black suit, standing with poise on a stage, holding up a violin. Upon closer look, she realized it to be the very violin Gabrielle had once owned.
“Behold what my child has become,” the entity proclaimed. “Are you not as proud of him as I am?”
XXXXX
A bright light beamed down on the young man standing center stage, his violin poised in his hands. His fingers glided over the strings, and with each passing note, the audience, their eyes fixed on him, was drawn deeper into his spell. It wrapped around the listeners' hearts and pulled them into a trance-like state. And as the last notes hung in the air, the audience were suspended in silence and left breathless. Then, they leaped to their feet in thunderous applause.
With a twisted smile, he relished the adulation. He knew he had sway over them, puppet master of their actions. He could simply issue a command, and they would eagerly comply, ready to enact his darkest fantasies. He imagined directing his willing servants to get up on the roof of a towering building and leap into the abyss below, willingly offering themselves as sacrifices.
He envisioned chaos unleashed upon the streets, cars overturned, windows shattered, and buildings engulfed in flames. All at his behest. The world lay at his fingertips, ripe for manipulation and destruction, as he thought about the countless ways he could bring about humanity’s demise.
After his final bow, the young man turned to face the audience, expressing heartfelt thanks for their attendance, eliciting both laughter and warm affection from the crowd. But, amidst the resounding applause, one figure remained still in the front row, confined to a wheelchair. He stared straight at her face which was hidden behind a thin black veil.
Though her body remained motionless in the chair, incapable of even the slightest movement, her one good eye was very much alive, fully engaged with her surroundings. And there was something else in her gaze. He could sense it from the stage, and it made him chuckle. It was an aroma he found intoxicating – the unmistakable stench of fear, seeping from every pore like primal pheromones.
The audience clamored for an encore, yearning to satisfy their insatiable thirst for more music. Their fervent cries echoed through tears. Lifting his violin once more, he hushed the audience with a single motion. The moment the red bow touched the strings, pandemonium broke loose. The spectators lost all self-control, leaping from their seats, clutching their heads, and tearing at their hair in a wild frenzy. They were completely entranced, surrendered to the power of the music.
As his crescendo intensified, a raging fire surged within them, mirrored by the frantic speed of his fingers on the strings. With each chord, they tore at their garments, sinking nails and teeth into one another's flesh. Chaos exploded, mingling with the scent of blood and the sound of rending flesh.
Mrs. Vilonte remained seated in her wheelchair, an impassive observer amidst the chaos, her voice silenced, her limbs still. She bore witness to the madness, her mind ensnared within its chaos, forever lost to its depths.
2024.05.09 19:33 theultimatepodcast Comparing my way-too-early 2024 mock draft to the actual draft
If you want to check out the full article, you can do so here: https://withthefirstpick.com/posts/chris-mcglynn-comparing-my-way-too-early-mock-draft-to-the-2024-nfl-draft-01hx04j216sc
History is usually not too kind way-too-early mock drafts. Spencer Rattler, Eli Ricks and many more have opened the draft cycle as highly-touted prospects who failed to live up to expectations. Many more have seen their "stock fall" in large part because their tape is put under the microscope, revealing that they never should have been that highly regarded in the first place.
And so, it is time for one of my favorite exercises. I am taking my way-too-early mock draft for 2024 and comparing it to what happened at the draft in Detroit. It is a great way to see how much has changed in a year. Several prospects lived up to the hype, many more fell off and others still came from way off the radar to be high draft picks.
1. Way-too-early pick: Arizona Cardinals - Caleb Williams, QB, USC Actual draft pick: Chicago Bears via Carolina Panthers - Caleb Williams, QB, USC
This one should come as no surprise. Williams was seen as the top quarterback in this draft from the very beginning, and while some will argue Drake Maye was worthy of the top pick, there was never really any doubt that Williams would be the first selection. Turns out the Cardinals were a bit better than we all expected and the first year of the Bryce Young experience was a bitter disappointment.
2. Way-too-early pick: Arizona Cardinals via Houston Texans - Marvin Harrison Jr., WR, Ohio State Actual draft pick: Washington Commanders - Jayden Daniels, QB, LSU
Remember when we all thought the Cardinals could have the top two picks in the draft? Don't blame me, blame the sportsbooks. Turns out the Texans were way better in C.J. Stroud's and DeMeco Ryans’ debut campaign. Still, the Cardinals did wind up taking Harrison, just at No. 4, not No. 2. As for Daniels, he was a player I was really excited about heading into the 2024 draft cycle, but I did not have him in the first round of this mock. He took a huge step as a passer and leader in his second season at LSU, propelling him into this spot.
3. Way-too-early pick: Indianapolis Colts - Olu Fashanu, OT, Penn State Actual draft pick: New England Patriots - Drake Maye, QB, UNC
Fashanu entered the 2024 in a fierce competition for Joe Alt for the top tackle spot. Alt took some major strides in 2023. Fashanu had the same issues pop up regarding his play strength and overall power. In the end, Fashanu still wound up going in the top half of the first round. For the Colts, expectations were low after drafting Anthony Richardson. Even when the No. 4 pick in the 2023 draft went down, Shane Steichen got this team to compete and really turned the outlook for Indianapolis around heading into 2024. We will talk more about Maye in just a moment.
4. Way-too-early pick: Tampa Bay Buccaneers - Drake Maye, QB, UNC Actual draft pick: Arizona Cardinals - Marvin Harrison Jr., WR, Ohio State
I will admit, I did not see Baker Mayfield leading the Buccaneers to the playoffs and landing a big extension in the offseason. Let's remember that he opened training camp in a quarterback battle with Kyle Trask! That was put to bed quickly, Tampa wound up winning the division and knocking out Philly in the wildcard round before falling short against the Lions. Maye came into the cycle with a top of hype, but ultimately had an uneven year with a worse supporting cast. I believe in his upside, but he is a bit of a project as he heads to New England. Harrison was my top player on the board heading all the way back in May of 2023. That never changed and he was the first non-quarterback off the board.
5. Way-too-early pick: Tennessee Titans - Brock Bowers, TE, Georgia Actual draft pick: Los Angeles Chargers - Joe Alt, OT, Notre Dame
Bowers was a known quantity heading into this draft cycle. Injuries and a lengthy debate about his positional value pushed him down the board. He might be the best tight end prospect we have had in nearly two decades, but given the lackluster impact of Kyle Pitts so far (more of a coaching issue than a talent issue it seems), teams backed off taking Bowers so early. Alt, who I mentioned before when talking about Fashanu, was seen as a top-10 candidate given his size, length and experience. He made some small improvements as a pass blocker in 2023, which I think gave him the edge over the rest of the tackles in the draft class.
6. Way-too-early pick: Washington Commanders - Quinn Ewers, QB, Texas Actual draft pick: New York Giants - Malik Nabers, WR, LSU We have found our first major outlier from the way-too-early mock. Ewers had an up-and-down season, ultimately deciding to return to Austin for his senior year. I clearly learned nothing from this exercise, because I projected Ewers at No. 6 in my 2025 way-too-early mock, coincidentally to the Giants. Meanwhile, Nabers put together another impressive season, leading to months of debate as to who WR1 in this class truly was. I stuck with Harrison, but Nabers was one of the highest graded players I scouted in this draft cycle. He has superstar potential in New York.
7. Way-too-early pick: Atlanta Falcons - Jared Verse, EDGE, Florida State Actual draft pick: Tennessee Titans - J.C. Latham, OT, Alabama
I promise, I am not trying to draw anymore attention to the fact that we all expected the Falcons to draft an edge rusher in the top 10. We all know by now what Atlanta opted to do instead, so let's focus on Verse. He had top-15 buzz in the 2023 draft, but returned to school for one more season. I don't know that it hurt him in any way, because there is a chance a deeper dive into his film and the pre-draft process could have seen him slip down the board a bit. He had another impressive year at Florida State and wound up going inside the top-20 to the Rams. As for Latham, this was the first real reach of the draft for me. I think he is a bit raw and I have questions about his ability to thrive at tackle in the NFL in general, much less making the switch to playing left tackle. He goes to a great situation with Bill Calahan to lead his development, but this is a risky proposition to say the least.
8. Way-too-early pick: Chicago Bears via Carolina Panthers - Joe Alt, OT, Notre Dame Actual draft pick: Atlanta Falcons - Michael Penix Jr., QB, Washington
This was the biggest stunner of the draft. We have picked apart why that is ad nauseam by this point. Let's talk more about Penix. He was iffy to be a first-round pick, much less a top-10 selection last summer. He was still only a year removed from an injury-plagued career at Indiana at that point. This is an interesting position for him to land in, but I am a big fan of the player.
9. Way-too-early pick: Los Angeles Rams - Bo Nix, QB, Oregon Actual draft pick: Chicago Bears - Rome Odunze, WR, Washington
I was a bit too high on Nix heading into the 2023 season, but this wound up being only three spots earlier than he was actually selected. I thought he would have been a good candidate to eventually replace Matthew Stafford, who has struggled with injuries in recent seasons. Los Angeles still has not identified an heir apparent, but the Rams also had a much better season than this projection expected. The Bears ended up in this slot, taking one of the most entertaining players in college football in Odunze, who I had mocked just a little later on. He will form a terrifying trio with Keenan Allen and D.J. Moore in Chicago.
10. Way-too-early pick: New England Patriots - Emeka Egbuka, WR, Ohio State Actual draft pick: Minnesota Vikings via New York Jets - J.J. McCarthy, QB, Michigan
There is a lot to unpack here. For starters, Egbuka had an injury-riddled year and wound up returning to school. He figures to be in the conversation to go in the first round in 2025. The Patriots had a much worse season than this, thanks in part to Mac Jones flaming out. Then there is McCarthy. He was not talked about a ton as a legitimate candidate to be drafted. He had shown flashes as a true sophomore, but keep in mind that he wasn't the designated starter to open the 2022 season. That was Cade McNamara. He saw a massive jump in his completion percentage and made big plays in key moments as Michigan won a national championship. He is going to need some seasoning and it will be interesting to see what happens when he is asked to be more than a game manager. The talent is there and this is a great landing spot for him under Kevin O'Connell.
11. Way-too-early pick: Pittsburgh Steelers - Kool-Aid McKinstry, CB, Alabama Actual draft pick: New York Jets via Minnesota Vikings - Olu Fashanu, OT, Penn State
McKinstry was the top corner on my radar heading into the 2023 season. He had his moments of brilliance, but struggled at points too, specifically against Adonai Mitchell. Additionally, his medical exam at the NFL combine revealed a Jones fracture in his foot, which likely pushed him down boards slightly. He landed in the second round with the Saints on draft day and has every chance to earn a starting spot.
12. Way-too-early pick: Las Vegas Raiders - Kalen King, CB, Penn State Actual draft pick: Denver Broncos - Bo Nix, QB, Oregon
This projection did not work out well. King had a rocky 2023 campaign, highlighted by a really rough showing against Marvin Harrison Jr. A poor pre-draft process, including subpar measurables and testing numbers saw King slide all the way to the seventh round. Perhaps he will bounce back and recapture some of his 2022 form in Green Bay, but his draft stock tanked throughout the season. For the Raiders, corner was and still is a need for them, but they opted to offense early before taking Decamerion Richardson in the fourth round.
13. Way-too-early pick: Chicago Bears - Laiatu Latu, EDGE, UCLA Actual draft pick: Las Vegas Raiders - Brock Bowers, TE, Georgia
Latu was one of my favorite prospects throughout the draft process. He was my highest rated defender heading into the draft and ended up being the first defender selected just a couple picks after this spot. He is about as technical a pass rusher we have ever seen coming out of college. Chicago chose to go offense instead with its two first round picks, but Latu would have been an excellent fit across from Montez Sweat.
14. Way-too-early pick: Green Bay Packers - J.C. Latham, OT, Alabama Actual draft pick: New Orleans Saints - Tailese Fuaga, OT, Oregon State
Turns out, Jordan Love was a lot better than we anticipated and the Packers were picking nowhere near this point. Latham actually came off the board before this point, so the Saints turned to Fuaga instead. He was a major riser this season, hat tip to Trevor Sikkema for championing him earlier than anyone else I can remember. His fluid movement skills for a player his size makes him an intriguing option to eventually flip to left tackle in the NFL.
15. Way-too-early pick: New York Giants - Rome Odunze, WR, Washington Actual draft pick: Indianapolis Colts - Laiatu Latu, EDGE, UCLA
It was no secret the Giants needed wide receiver help. We knew that way back in May of 2023. New York's season ended up going much worse than this, with Daniel Jones struggling early before suffering a season-ending injury. The Giants were actually heavily linked to Odunze throughout the draft process and he would have been a great fit.
16. Way-too-early pick: Seattle Seahawks - Jer'Zhan Newton, DL, Illinois Actual draft pick: Seattle Seahawks - Byron Murphy, DL, Texas
Clearly, the sportsbooks nailed this one. I will give myself some partial credit here as well. Seattle needed defensive line help in a big way. They traded for Leonard Williams at the deadline and still wound up selecting Murphy on draft day. Newton wound up sliding into the second round, which surprised a lot of analysts. He had a great season for Illinois and looked like a first-round pick, even if not quite this high. Meanwhile, Murphy lands in a perfect situation to thrive at the NFL level.
17. Way-too-early pick: Minnesota Vikings - Dallas Turner, EDGE, Alabama Actual draft pick: Minnesota Vikings via Jacksonville Jaguars - Dallas Turner, EDGE, Alabama
It's better to be lucky than good. I would love to take credit here for projecting a first draft pick nearly a year ahead of time, but I think this is an excellent illustration of how difficult it is to predict what will happen in the NFL draft. I had Turner as the third edge rusher off the board in my way-too-early mock, behind Verse and Latu. When the draft actually rolled around, I expected Turner to be the first edge rusher selected, likely in the top 10. A historic run on offensive players pushed him down the board to this point. He had a really strong 2023 season and has elite athleticism. His ceiling is incredibly high at the next level.
18. Way-too-early pick: Denver Broncos - Maason Smith, DL, LSU Actual draft pick: Cincinnati Bengals - Amarius Mims, OT, Georgia
Smith was such a projection pick this early in the process. Then again, I guess every pick was. Anyway, Smith is such a rare athletic talent, but he was coming off a torn ACL this past season. He had a fine season, but nothing that warranted a first-round selection. He landed in the second round with the Jaguars. Perhaps, Smith will look even better two years removed from his injury. On the other hand, we have Mims, who is still a relative unknown. He has ideal traits and size to be a high-level starter in the NFL. However, due to injuries and talent ahead of him at Georgia, he only has eight collegiate starts. He will essentially get a redshirt year in Cincinnati, assuming Trent Brown can stay healthy, before likely taking over at right tackle in 2025.
19. Way-too-early pick: New Orleans Saints - J.T. Tuimoloau, EDGE, Ohio State Actual draft pick: Los Angeles Rams - Jared Verse, EDGE, Florida State
Ohio State messed with a lot of the depth in this draft class, bringing back a ton of draft eligible talent for another run. Tuimoloau is a strong player, but he hasn't really shown much development as a pass rusher. He has 12 career sacks in three seasons, and it is not for a lack of opportunity or playing time. For what it is worth, I did not include him in my way-too-early mock for 2025. I think he projects more as a Day 2 rotational player than a potentially impact starter.
20. Way-too-early pick: Houston Texans via Cleveland Browns - Jeremiah Trotter Jr., LB, Clemson Actual draft pick: Pittsburgh Steelers - Troy Fautanu, OT, Washington
It turns out, we might have overrated the Clemson defense a little bit. Trotter is a fun player, flying around and getting to the ball, but he is undersized and lacks the ideal agility required to start at the NFL level. I will say, I do love that he landed with the Eagles, where his dad spent the majority of his career. While Trotter's stock slipped throughout the season, Fautanu's skyrocketed. Thought by most to be a guard, he put those questions to rest at the combine, measuring in with longer arms than Joe Alt. He is a brawler with great play strength. He fits Pittsburgh so well and has the potential to be the team's long-term starter at left tackle.
21. Way-too-early pick: Los Angeles Chargers - Ja'Tavion Sanders, TE, Texas Actual draft pick: Miami Dolphins - Chop Robinson, EDGE, Penn State
When you look at where the Chargers were expected to be picking and then compare it to where they actually picked, you get a pretty clear picture as to why Brandon Staley was fired. Los Angeles is still in need of a tight end, with Will Dissley and Hayden Hurst the top two options at the position, but that will wait until next year, maybe until when Jim Harbaugh can draft Colston Loveland. Sanders wound up sliding all the way to the fourth round, which felt a bit harsh for a player as dynamic in space at the position. That being said, first round was too rich a projection as well. He lacks physicality and struggles as a blocker. As for Robinson, I did not have him in my way-too-early mock. I watched him against Ohio State in 2022 and did not see a first-round talent. I was low on Robinson throughout the process and thought this was a little earlier than he should have gone. He is a great athlete, but he is unrefined and had little production at Penn State.
22. Way-too-early pick: Miami Dolphins - Raheim Sanders, RB, Arkansas Actual draft pick: Philadelphia Eagles - Quinyon Mitchell, CB, Toledo
This one did not pan out so well for me. I loved Sanders coming into the process. He had over 1,700 yards from scrimmage and 12 touchdowns for Arkansas in 2022. He followed that up 284 yards from scrimmage and two touchdowns in just six games due to injury. His yards per attempt also plummeted from 6.5 to 3.4. He wound up transferring to South Carolina. We will see if he can bounce back and get himself back into top 100 consideration for 2025. Meanwhile, Mitchell went the other direction. He was a small school star with some consideration, but he proved he could contend at the Senior Bowl and wound up being the first corner selected. He could be a Day 1 starter in Philly.
23. Way-too-early pick: Jacksonville Jaguars - Cooper DeJean, CB, Iowa Actual draft pick: Jacksonville Jaguars via Minnesota Vikings & Houston Texans - Brian Thomas Jr., WR, LSU
The Jaguars ended up picking here after a trade down with the Vikings. DeJean inexplicably slid out of the first round, but he was definitely a first-round talent. Even after suffering a season-ending injury at Iowa, he returned for a great pre-draft workout and his tape is first-round caliber. He landed with the Eagles in the second round. Thomas benefitted from Jayden Daniels' Heisman season and a clear spot in the starting lineup. He entered the 2023 season with 770 yards and seven touchdowns through his first two years combined. He posted 1,177 yards and an FBS-leading 17 touchdowns in a monster breakout season. He will be a great field-stretching option in Jacksonville.
24. Way-too-early pick: Detroit Lions - Jack Sawyer, EDGE, Ohio State Actual draft pick: Detroit Lions via Dallas Cowboys - Terrion Arnold, CB, Alabama
The offseason hype around the Lions turned out to be warranted. Detroit had to trade up to pick at No. 24. They took Arnold, which fills a huge void on their defense. He is a hard-nosed tackler with good ball skills. He started the year in Kool-Aid McKinstry's proverbial draft shadow, but ended up surpassing his teammate by the time the draft rolled around. Meanwhile, Sawyer, like J.T. Tuimoloau, returned to school for another year. He is similar in that he has great strength, but lacks the production to go with it. He has a future as an edge setting defender, but he does not generate enough pressure to warrant first-round consideration heading into the 2024 season.
25. Way-too-early pick: Baltimore Ravens - Michael Hall Jr., DL, Ohio State Actual draft pick: Green Bay Packers - Jordan Morgan, OT, Arizona
It is funny now to look back and think the Ravens had a pressing need at defensive tackle. Justin Madubuike had a breakout year with 13 sacks that resulted in All-Pro honors, a Pro Bowl spot and a massive contract extension. Hall wouldn't have been the pick anyway. He is a great interior pass rusher, but is undersized and struggles to win consistently at the point of attack. He landed with Cleveland in the second round. Regarding the pick that did happen, Morgan looked much sharper in his second year removed from a torn ACL suffered in 2021. There are some concerns about his length when it comes to his ability to play tackle in the NFL, but the Packers have never shied away from moving college tackles into interior offensive line spots.
26. Way-too-early pick: Dallas Cowboys - TreVeyon Henderson, RB, Ohio State Actual draft pick: Tampa Bay Buccaneers - Graham Barton, OL, Duke
Projecting an Ohio State running back to the Cowboys isn't the worst thing I could have done. Dallas still desperately needs running back help after passing on the position entirely. Henderson returned to Columbus for another year after an inconsistent season and will compete for touches in a backfield that now features Ole Miss transfer Quinshon Judkins. Barton is another college offensive tackle whose future lies on the interior of the offensive line at the NFL level. He was on the radar, but had a great pre-draft process to push him into the first round.
27. Way-too-early pick: Green Bay Packers via New York Jets - Andrew Mukuba, S, Clemson Actual draft pick: Arizona Cardinals - Darius Robinson, DL, Missouri
Mukuba had a lot of traction heading into the season, but injuries led him to returning to school and transferring to his hometown team in Austin. The Packers had a clear need at safety as well, signing Xavier McKinney to a big deal this offseason. As a Jets fan, just a quick moment to savor when the Jets were thought to be Super Bowl contenders with Aaron Rodgers, which is why this pick was projected to belong to the Packers. For Robinson, this was a surprising rise for a player with very little production or fanfare heading into the season. He broke out with 8.5 sacks and then had a phenomenal week at the Senior Bowl. This was still a bit early for my liking, but he has the versatility and power to hang around the league for a long time.
28. Way-too-early pick: Cincinnati Bengals - Calen Bullock, S, USC Actual draft pick: Kansas City Chiefs via Buffalo Bills - Xavier Worthy, WR, Texas
Bullock is a ball-hawking safety with excellent ball production from his time at USC. However, one of the biggest issues for him, and most of the USC defense, was his inability to tackle. A big part of that is that at 188 pounds, he is in the second percentile for weight at the safety position. He wound up landing with Houston in the third round as a result. Meanwhile, the Chiefs traded up with the Bills again to land a speedster at wide receiver. More on Worthy in just a second.
29. Way-too-early pick: Buffalo Bills - Xavier Worthy, WR, Texas Actual draft pick: Dallas Cowboys via Detroit Lions - Tyler Guyton, OT, Oklahoma
Oh how close this was to actually happening. Worthy was on the board for the Bills at 28 and they needed a receiver in a bad way. Instead, Buffalo traded down and Worthy is now the newest weapon for Patrick Mahomes. The Texas star has a very slight frame, but broke the 40-yard dash record at the combine this year. He will change how teams have to defend Kansas City. His draft stock clearly did not shift a whole lot from where he was initially projected to where he landed. The same cannot be said for Guyton. He was not really in the conversation heading into the 2023 season, but he has exciting intangibles despite his lack of experience. In a couple years, he could look like a steal at this spot.
30. Way-too-early pick: San Francisco 49ers - Akheem Mesidor, DL, Miami Actual draft pick: Baltimore Ravens - Nate Wiggins, CB, Clemson
Mesidor remains a prospect I will be watching closely for the 2025 draft. He had a great first season with Miami in 2022 after transferring from West Virginia. Unfortunately, he suffered a season-ending injury just three games into the 2023 season. I did not have Wiggins in my way-too-early mock, and in retrospect, I probably should have. He was the Clemson defender I overlooked. He has great speed, impressive effort and top-tier ball skills. He lasted to the end of the round because of his slight frame and questionable tackling in space. I have no doubt Baltimore will find a way to get the most out of him.
31. Way-too-early pick: Philadelphia Eagles - Kingsley Suamataia, OT, BYU Actual draft pick: San Francisco 49ers - Ricky Pearsall, WR, Florida
Philly picked much earlier than this on draft day as their Super Bowl hangover finally hit in the second half of the season. I was high on Suamataia heading into the season, but he still has a bit of a ways to go from a development standpoint to make it to be a starter. He landed with the Chiefs in the second round. The 49ers got back to the Super Bowl, but fell short and John Lynch decided he wanted more firepower on offense. Whether this means Brandon Aiyuk or Deebo Samuel is on the way out or not, Pearsall should have a role in this offense early. He is a reliable playmaker with inside-outside versatility.
32. Way-too-early pick: Kansas City Chiefs - Troy Franklin, WR, Oregon Actual draft pick: Carolina Panthers via Buffalo Bills & Kansas City Chiefs - Xavier Legette, WR, South Carolina
The Chiefs did wind up selecting a wide receiver in the first round, just not Franklin. It was a bit of a shock to see Franklin slide as far as he did. He was not a first-round talent as I had initially thought, but I figured he would go mid-to-late second round, not in the early fourth. He was very productive at Oregon, but a slight frame and small hands likely pushed him down draft boards. That being said, I like his landing spot with his college quarterback in Denver. On the other hand, Leggette was on no one's radar heading into the season. In his first four seasons at South Carolina, he was largely a special teamer with 423 career receiving yards. He exploded with 1,255 receiving yards and seven touchdowns. He is a hometown kid with a chance to play a major role in his first season. He should be one of Bryce Young's top targets this year.
submitted by theultimatepodcast to NFL_Draft [link] [comments]
History is usually not too kind way-too-early mock drafts. Spencer Rattler, Eli Ricks and many more have opened the draft cycle as highly-touted prospects who failed to live up to expectations. Many more have seen their "stock fall" in large part because their tape is put under the microscope, revealing that they never should have been that highly regarded in the first place.
And so, it is time for one of my favorite exercises. I am taking my way-too-early mock draft for 2024 and comparing it to what happened at the draft in Detroit. It is a great way to see how much has changed in a year. Several prospects lived up to the hype, many more fell off and others still came from way off the radar to be high draft picks.
1. Way-too-early pick: Arizona Cardinals - Caleb Williams, QB, USC Actual draft pick: Chicago Bears via Carolina Panthers - Caleb Williams, QB, USC
This one should come as no surprise. Williams was seen as the top quarterback in this draft from the very beginning, and while some will argue Drake Maye was worthy of the top pick, there was never really any doubt that Williams would be the first selection. Turns out the Cardinals were a bit better than we all expected and the first year of the Bryce Young experience was a bitter disappointment.
2. Way-too-early pick: Arizona Cardinals via Houston Texans - Marvin Harrison Jr., WR, Ohio State Actual draft pick: Washington Commanders - Jayden Daniels, QB, LSU
Remember when we all thought the Cardinals could have the top two picks in the draft? Don't blame me, blame the sportsbooks. Turns out the Texans were way better in C.J. Stroud's and DeMeco Ryans’ debut campaign. Still, the Cardinals did wind up taking Harrison, just at No. 4, not No. 2. As for Daniels, he was a player I was really excited about heading into the 2024 draft cycle, but I did not have him in the first round of this mock. He took a huge step as a passer and leader in his second season at LSU, propelling him into this spot.
3. Way-too-early pick: Indianapolis Colts - Olu Fashanu, OT, Penn State Actual draft pick: New England Patriots - Drake Maye, QB, UNC
Fashanu entered the 2024 in a fierce competition for Joe Alt for the top tackle spot. Alt took some major strides in 2023. Fashanu had the same issues pop up regarding his play strength and overall power. In the end, Fashanu still wound up going in the top half of the first round. For the Colts, expectations were low after drafting Anthony Richardson. Even when the No. 4 pick in the 2023 draft went down, Shane Steichen got this team to compete and really turned the outlook for Indianapolis around heading into 2024. We will talk more about Maye in just a moment.
4. Way-too-early pick: Tampa Bay Buccaneers - Drake Maye, QB, UNC Actual draft pick: Arizona Cardinals - Marvin Harrison Jr., WR, Ohio State
I will admit, I did not see Baker Mayfield leading the Buccaneers to the playoffs and landing a big extension in the offseason. Let's remember that he opened training camp in a quarterback battle with Kyle Trask! That was put to bed quickly, Tampa wound up winning the division and knocking out Philly in the wildcard round before falling short against the Lions. Maye came into the cycle with a top of hype, but ultimately had an uneven year with a worse supporting cast. I believe in his upside, but he is a bit of a project as he heads to New England. Harrison was my top player on the board heading all the way back in May of 2023. That never changed and he was the first non-quarterback off the board.
5. Way-too-early pick: Tennessee Titans - Brock Bowers, TE, Georgia Actual draft pick: Los Angeles Chargers - Joe Alt, OT, Notre Dame
Bowers was a known quantity heading into this draft cycle. Injuries and a lengthy debate about his positional value pushed him down the board. He might be the best tight end prospect we have had in nearly two decades, but given the lackluster impact of Kyle Pitts so far (more of a coaching issue than a talent issue it seems), teams backed off taking Bowers so early. Alt, who I mentioned before when talking about Fashanu, was seen as a top-10 candidate given his size, length and experience. He made some small improvements as a pass blocker in 2023, which I think gave him the edge over the rest of the tackles in the draft class.
6. Way-too-early pick: Washington Commanders - Quinn Ewers, QB, Texas Actual draft pick: New York Giants - Malik Nabers, WR, LSU We have found our first major outlier from the way-too-early mock. Ewers had an up-and-down season, ultimately deciding to return to Austin for his senior year. I clearly learned nothing from this exercise, because I projected Ewers at No. 6 in my 2025 way-too-early mock, coincidentally to the Giants. Meanwhile, Nabers put together another impressive season, leading to months of debate as to who WR1 in this class truly was. I stuck with Harrison, but Nabers was one of the highest graded players I scouted in this draft cycle. He has superstar potential in New York.
7. Way-too-early pick: Atlanta Falcons - Jared Verse, EDGE, Florida State Actual draft pick: Tennessee Titans - J.C. Latham, OT, Alabama
I promise, I am not trying to draw anymore attention to the fact that we all expected the Falcons to draft an edge rusher in the top 10. We all know by now what Atlanta opted to do instead, so let's focus on Verse. He had top-15 buzz in the 2023 draft, but returned to school for one more season. I don't know that it hurt him in any way, because there is a chance a deeper dive into his film and the pre-draft process could have seen him slip down the board a bit. He had another impressive year at Florida State and wound up going inside the top-20 to the Rams. As for Latham, this was the first real reach of the draft for me. I think he is a bit raw and I have questions about his ability to thrive at tackle in the NFL in general, much less making the switch to playing left tackle. He goes to a great situation with Bill Calahan to lead his development, but this is a risky proposition to say the least.
8. Way-too-early pick: Chicago Bears via Carolina Panthers - Joe Alt, OT, Notre Dame Actual draft pick: Atlanta Falcons - Michael Penix Jr., QB, Washington
This was the biggest stunner of the draft. We have picked apart why that is ad nauseam by this point. Let's talk more about Penix. He was iffy to be a first-round pick, much less a top-10 selection last summer. He was still only a year removed from an injury-plagued career at Indiana at that point. This is an interesting position for him to land in, but I am a big fan of the player.
9. Way-too-early pick: Los Angeles Rams - Bo Nix, QB, Oregon Actual draft pick: Chicago Bears - Rome Odunze, WR, Washington
I was a bit too high on Nix heading into the 2023 season, but this wound up being only three spots earlier than he was actually selected. I thought he would have been a good candidate to eventually replace Matthew Stafford, who has struggled with injuries in recent seasons. Los Angeles still has not identified an heir apparent, but the Rams also had a much better season than this projection expected. The Bears ended up in this slot, taking one of the most entertaining players in college football in Odunze, who I had mocked just a little later on. He will form a terrifying trio with Keenan Allen and D.J. Moore in Chicago.
10. Way-too-early pick: New England Patriots - Emeka Egbuka, WR, Ohio State Actual draft pick: Minnesota Vikings via New York Jets - J.J. McCarthy, QB, Michigan
There is a lot to unpack here. For starters, Egbuka had an injury-riddled year and wound up returning to school. He figures to be in the conversation to go in the first round in 2025. The Patriots had a much worse season than this, thanks in part to Mac Jones flaming out. Then there is McCarthy. He was not talked about a ton as a legitimate candidate to be drafted. He had shown flashes as a true sophomore, but keep in mind that he wasn't the designated starter to open the 2022 season. That was Cade McNamara. He saw a massive jump in his completion percentage and made big plays in key moments as Michigan won a national championship. He is going to need some seasoning and it will be interesting to see what happens when he is asked to be more than a game manager. The talent is there and this is a great landing spot for him under Kevin O'Connell.
11. Way-too-early pick: Pittsburgh Steelers - Kool-Aid McKinstry, CB, Alabama Actual draft pick: New York Jets via Minnesota Vikings - Olu Fashanu, OT, Penn State
McKinstry was the top corner on my radar heading into the 2023 season. He had his moments of brilliance, but struggled at points too, specifically against Adonai Mitchell. Additionally, his medical exam at the NFL combine revealed a Jones fracture in his foot, which likely pushed him down boards slightly. He landed in the second round with the Saints on draft day and has every chance to earn a starting spot.
12. Way-too-early pick: Las Vegas Raiders - Kalen King, CB, Penn State Actual draft pick: Denver Broncos - Bo Nix, QB, Oregon
This projection did not work out well. King had a rocky 2023 campaign, highlighted by a really rough showing against Marvin Harrison Jr. A poor pre-draft process, including subpar measurables and testing numbers saw King slide all the way to the seventh round. Perhaps he will bounce back and recapture some of his 2022 form in Green Bay, but his draft stock tanked throughout the season. For the Raiders, corner was and still is a need for them, but they opted to offense early before taking Decamerion Richardson in the fourth round.
13. Way-too-early pick: Chicago Bears - Laiatu Latu, EDGE, UCLA Actual draft pick: Las Vegas Raiders - Brock Bowers, TE, Georgia
Latu was one of my favorite prospects throughout the draft process. He was my highest rated defender heading into the draft and ended up being the first defender selected just a couple picks after this spot. He is about as technical a pass rusher we have ever seen coming out of college. Chicago chose to go offense instead with its two first round picks, but Latu would have been an excellent fit across from Montez Sweat.
14. Way-too-early pick: Green Bay Packers - J.C. Latham, OT, Alabama Actual draft pick: New Orleans Saints - Tailese Fuaga, OT, Oregon State
Turns out, Jordan Love was a lot better than we anticipated and the Packers were picking nowhere near this point. Latham actually came off the board before this point, so the Saints turned to Fuaga instead. He was a major riser this season, hat tip to Trevor Sikkema for championing him earlier than anyone else I can remember. His fluid movement skills for a player his size makes him an intriguing option to eventually flip to left tackle in the NFL.
15. Way-too-early pick: New York Giants - Rome Odunze, WR, Washington Actual draft pick: Indianapolis Colts - Laiatu Latu, EDGE, UCLA
It was no secret the Giants needed wide receiver help. We knew that way back in May of 2023. New York's season ended up going much worse than this, with Daniel Jones struggling early before suffering a season-ending injury. The Giants were actually heavily linked to Odunze throughout the draft process and he would have been a great fit.
16. Way-too-early pick: Seattle Seahawks - Jer'Zhan Newton, DL, Illinois Actual draft pick: Seattle Seahawks - Byron Murphy, DL, Texas
Clearly, the sportsbooks nailed this one. I will give myself some partial credit here as well. Seattle needed defensive line help in a big way. They traded for Leonard Williams at the deadline and still wound up selecting Murphy on draft day. Newton wound up sliding into the second round, which surprised a lot of analysts. He had a great season for Illinois and looked like a first-round pick, even if not quite this high. Meanwhile, Murphy lands in a perfect situation to thrive at the NFL level.
17. Way-too-early pick: Minnesota Vikings - Dallas Turner, EDGE, Alabama Actual draft pick: Minnesota Vikings via Jacksonville Jaguars - Dallas Turner, EDGE, Alabama
It's better to be lucky than good. I would love to take credit here for projecting a first draft pick nearly a year ahead of time, but I think this is an excellent illustration of how difficult it is to predict what will happen in the NFL draft. I had Turner as the third edge rusher off the board in my way-too-early mock, behind Verse and Latu. When the draft actually rolled around, I expected Turner to be the first edge rusher selected, likely in the top 10. A historic run on offensive players pushed him down the board to this point. He had a really strong 2023 season and has elite athleticism. His ceiling is incredibly high at the next level.
18. Way-too-early pick: Denver Broncos - Maason Smith, DL, LSU Actual draft pick: Cincinnati Bengals - Amarius Mims, OT, Georgia
Smith was such a projection pick this early in the process. Then again, I guess every pick was. Anyway, Smith is such a rare athletic talent, but he was coming off a torn ACL this past season. He had a fine season, but nothing that warranted a first-round selection. He landed in the second round with the Jaguars. Perhaps, Smith will look even better two years removed from his injury. On the other hand, we have Mims, who is still a relative unknown. He has ideal traits and size to be a high-level starter in the NFL. However, due to injuries and talent ahead of him at Georgia, he only has eight collegiate starts. He will essentially get a redshirt year in Cincinnati, assuming Trent Brown can stay healthy, before likely taking over at right tackle in 2025.
19. Way-too-early pick: New Orleans Saints - J.T. Tuimoloau, EDGE, Ohio State Actual draft pick: Los Angeles Rams - Jared Verse, EDGE, Florida State
Ohio State messed with a lot of the depth in this draft class, bringing back a ton of draft eligible talent for another run. Tuimoloau is a strong player, but he hasn't really shown much development as a pass rusher. He has 12 career sacks in three seasons, and it is not for a lack of opportunity or playing time. For what it is worth, I did not include him in my way-too-early mock for 2025. I think he projects more as a Day 2 rotational player than a potentially impact starter.
20. Way-too-early pick: Houston Texans via Cleveland Browns - Jeremiah Trotter Jr., LB, Clemson Actual draft pick: Pittsburgh Steelers - Troy Fautanu, OT, Washington
It turns out, we might have overrated the Clemson defense a little bit. Trotter is a fun player, flying around and getting to the ball, but he is undersized and lacks the ideal agility required to start at the NFL level. I will say, I do love that he landed with the Eagles, where his dad spent the majority of his career. While Trotter's stock slipped throughout the season, Fautanu's skyrocketed. Thought by most to be a guard, he put those questions to rest at the combine, measuring in with longer arms than Joe Alt. He is a brawler with great play strength. He fits Pittsburgh so well and has the potential to be the team's long-term starter at left tackle.
21. Way-too-early pick: Los Angeles Chargers - Ja'Tavion Sanders, TE, Texas Actual draft pick: Miami Dolphins - Chop Robinson, EDGE, Penn State
When you look at where the Chargers were expected to be picking and then compare it to where they actually picked, you get a pretty clear picture as to why Brandon Staley was fired. Los Angeles is still in need of a tight end, with Will Dissley and Hayden Hurst the top two options at the position, but that will wait until next year, maybe until when Jim Harbaugh can draft Colston Loveland. Sanders wound up sliding all the way to the fourth round, which felt a bit harsh for a player as dynamic in space at the position. That being said, first round was too rich a projection as well. He lacks physicality and struggles as a blocker. As for Robinson, I did not have him in my way-too-early mock. I watched him against Ohio State in 2022 and did not see a first-round talent. I was low on Robinson throughout the process and thought this was a little earlier than he should have gone. He is a great athlete, but he is unrefined and had little production at Penn State.
22. Way-too-early pick: Miami Dolphins - Raheim Sanders, RB, Arkansas Actual draft pick: Philadelphia Eagles - Quinyon Mitchell, CB, Toledo
This one did not pan out so well for me. I loved Sanders coming into the process. He had over 1,700 yards from scrimmage and 12 touchdowns for Arkansas in 2022. He followed that up 284 yards from scrimmage and two touchdowns in just six games due to injury. His yards per attempt also plummeted from 6.5 to 3.4. He wound up transferring to South Carolina. We will see if he can bounce back and get himself back into top 100 consideration for 2025. Meanwhile, Mitchell went the other direction. He was a small school star with some consideration, but he proved he could contend at the Senior Bowl and wound up being the first corner selected. He could be a Day 1 starter in Philly.
23. Way-too-early pick: Jacksonville Jaguars - Cooper DeJean, CB, Iowa Actual draft pick: Jacksonville Jaguars via Minnesota Vikings & Houston Texans - Brian Thomas Jr., WR, LSU
The Jaguars ended up picking here after a trade down with the Vikings. DeJean inexplicably slid out of the first round, but he was definitely a first-round talent. Even after suffering a season-ending injury at Iowa, he returned for a great pre-draft workout and his tape is first-round caliber. He landed with the Eagles in the second round. Thomas benefitted from Jayden Daniels' Heisman season and a clear spot in the starting lineup. He entered the 2023 season with 770 yards and seven touchdowns through his first two years combined. He posted 1,177 yards and an FBS-leading 17 touchdowns in a monster breakout season. He will be a great field-stretching option in Jacksonville.
24. Way-too-early pick: Detroit Lions - Jack Sawyer, EDGE, Ohio State Actual draft pick: Detroit Lions via Dallas Cowboys - Terrion Arnold, CB, Alabama
The offseason hype around the Lions turned out to be warranted. Detroit had to trade up to pick at No. 24. They took Arnold, which fills a huge void on their defense. He is a hard-nosed tackler with good ball skills. He started the year in Kool-Aid McKinstry's proverbial draft shadow, but ended up surpassing his teammate by the time the draft rolled around. Meanwhile, Sawyer, like J.T. Tuimoloau, returned to school for another year. He is similar in that he has great strength, but lacks the production to go with it. He has a future as an edge setting defender, but he does not generate enough pressure to warrant first-round consideration heading into the 2024 season.
25. Way-too-early pick: Baltimore Ravens - Michael Hall Jr., DL, Ohio State Actual draft pick: Green Bay Packers - Jordan Morgan, OT, Arizona
It is funny now to look back and think the Ravens had a pressing need at defensive tackle. Justin Madubuike had a breakout year with 13 sacks that resulted in All-Pro honors, a Pro Bowl spot and a massive contract extension. Hall wouldn't have been the pick anyway. He is a great interior pass rusher, but is undersized and struggles to win consistently at the point of attack. He landed with Cleveland in the second round. Regarding the pick that did happen, Morgan looked much sharper in his second year removed from a torn ACL suffered in 2021. There are some concerns about his length when it comes to his ability to play tackle in the NFL, but the Packers have never shied away from moving college tackles into interior offensive line spots.
26. Way-too-early pick: Dallas Cowboys - TreVeyon Henderson, RB, Ohio State Actual draft pick: Tampa Bay Buccaneers - Graham Barton, OL, Duke
Projecting an Ohio State running back to the Cowboys isn't the worst thing I could have done. Dallas still desperately needs running back help after passing on the position entirely. Henderson returned to Columbus for another year after an inconsistent season and will compete for touches in a backfield that now features Ole Miss transfer Quinshon Judkins. Barton is another college offensive tackle whose future lies on the interior of the offensive line at the NFL level. He was on the radar, but had a great pre-draft process to push him into the first round.
27. Way-too-early pick: Green Bay Packers via New York Jets - Andrew Mukuba, S, Clemson Actual draft pick: Arizona Cardinals - Darius Robinson, DL, Missouri
Mukuba had a lot of traction heading into the season, but injuries led him to returning to school and transferring to his hometown team in Austin. The Packers had a clear need at safety as well, signing Xavier McKinney to a big deal this offseason. As a Jets fan, just a quick moment to savor when the Jets were thought to be Super Bowl contenders with Aaron Rodgers, which is why this pick was projected to belong to the Packers. For Robinson, this was a surprising rise for a player with very little production or fanfare heading into the season. He broke out with 8.5 sacks and then had a phenomenal week at the Senior Bowl. This was still a bit early for my liking, but he has the versatility and power to hang around the league for a long time.
28. Way-too-early pick: Cincinnati Bengals - Calen Bullock, S, USC Actual draft pick: Kansas City Chiefs via Buffalo Bills - Xavier Worthy, WR, Texas
Bullock is a ball-hawking safety with excellent ball production from his time at USC. However, one of the biggest issues for him, and most of the USC defense, was his inability to tackle. A big part of that is that at 188 pounds, he is in the second percentile for weight at the safety position. He wound up landing with Houston in the third round as a result. Meanwhile, the Chiefs traded up with the Bills again to land a speedster at wide receiver. More on Worthy in just a second.
29. Way-too-early pick: Buffalo Bills - Xavier Worthy, WR, Texas Actual draft pick: Dallas Cowboys via Detroit Lions - Tyler Guyton, OT, Oklahoma
Oh how close this was to actually happening. Worthy was on the board for the Bills at 28 and they needed a receiver in a bad way. Instead, Buffalo traded down and Worthy is now the newest weapon for Patrick Mahomes. The Texas star has a very slight frame, but broke the 40-yard dash record at the combine this year. He will change how teams have to defend Kansas City. His draft stock clearly did not shift a whole lot from where he was initially projected to where he landed. The same cannot be said for Guyton. He was not really in the conversation heading into the 2023 season, but he has exciting intangibles despite his lack of experience. In a couple years, he could look like a steal at this spot.
30. Way-too-early pick: San Francisco 49ers - Akheem Mesidor, DL, Miami Actual draft pick: Baltimore Ravens - Nate Wiggins, CB, Clemson
Mesidor remains a prospect I will be watching closely for the 2025 draft. He had a great first season with Miami in 2022 after transferring from West Virginia. Unfortunately, he suffered a season-ending injury just three games into the 2023 season. I did not have Wiggins in my way-too-early mock, and in retrospect, I probably should have. He was the Clemson defender I overlooked. He has great speed, impressive effort and top-tier ball skills. He lasted to the end of the round because of his slight frame and questionable tackling in space. I have no doubt Baltimore will find a way to get the most out of him.
31. Way-too-early pick: Philadelphia Eagles - Kingsley Suamataia, OT, BYU Actual draft pick: San Francisco 49ers - Ricky Pearsall, WR, Florida
Philly picked much earlier than this on draft day as their Super Bowl hangover finally hit in the second half of the season. I was high on Suamataia heading into the season, but he still has a bit of a ways to go from a development standpoint to make it to be a starter. He landed with the Chiefs in the second round. The 49ers got back to the Super Bowl, but fell short and John Lynch decided he wanted more firepower on offense. Whether this means Brandon Aiyuk or Deebo Samuel is on the way out or not, Pearsall should have a role in this offense early. He is a reliable playmaker with inside-outside versatility.
32. Way-too-early pick: Kansas City Chiefs - Troy Franklin, WR, Oregon Actual draft pick: Carolina Panthers via Buffalo Bills & Kansas City Chiefs - Xavier Legette, WR, South Carolina
The Chiefs did wind up selecting a wide receiver in the first round, just not Franklin. It was a bit of a shock to see Franklin slide as far as he did. He was not a first-round talent as I had initially thought, but I figured he would go mid-to-late second round, not in the early fourth. He was very productive at Oregon, but a slight frame and small hands likely pushed him down draft boards. That being said, I like his landing spot with his college quarterback in Denver. On the other hand, Leggette was on no one's radar heading into the season. In his first four seasons at South Carolina, he was largely a special teamer with 423 career receiving yards. He exploded with 1,255 receiving yards and seven touchdowns. He is a hometown kid with a chance to play a major role in his first season. He should be one of Bryce Young's top targets this year.
2024.05.09 10:22 Zentij My most beautiful loaves yet! Unfed starter recipe.
 | These are my 14th and 15th loaves. I’ve been basing my recipe on the Pain de Campagne (Country Loaf) recipe from King Arthur here: https://www.kingarthurbaking.com/recipes/pain-de-campagne-country-bread-recipe submitted by Zentij to Sourdough [link] [comments] I moved recently. For some reason, I was able to make the 80% hydration dough the recipe calls for just fine, although never achieved desirable results. At my new place, 80% just falls apart on my counter during shaping. I don’t know if it’s temperature, humidity, or something else. This time I went for 75% hydration and got beautiful results. I understand the small amount of starter used also adds some hydration that I’m not calculating. For these loaves I used: 900g Bob’s Red Mill Bread Flour 100g Bob’s Red Mill Whole Wheat Flour 750g water at around 90f (kitchen at 68f) 20g pickling salt (I ferment other things) 40g unfed starter (mine was two days unfed on counter) Mixed everything in a mixing bowl until shaggy. Let rest for 45 minutes. Three sets of stretch and fold with 15-20 minute rest periods. The. Three sets of coil folds with 30-45 rest periods until I went to bed. I woke the next morning when bulk fermentation was around 12 hours. Then I divided and preshaped, rested for 10 minutes, shaped and put into one banneton and one bowl lined with a tea towel. After 12 more hours, I preheat the oven with a lodge combo cooker to 500f. I transferred the proofed dough onto a parchment paper, scored and moved to the combo cooker. Then I turned down the temperature to 450f and set a timer for 25 minutes. After 25 minutes I took off the lid and baked for another 20 minutes to get a nice dark golden crust. I started with this recipe early on, and moved to another recipe after not getting the results I wanted. I’m glad I gave it another try with some modifications. I’m loving the journey to learning how to work with my dough, and how to modify a recipe to work best for me! |
2024.05.09 07:43 kunai1997 The Fallout Cabin
Chapter 1 “Snow Fall”
Today; Monday, February 29th 2044 The sun was just rising when Mack had grabbed his coffee mug and stepped out on the porch. He opened the door slowly and walked out onto the porch of his cabin overlooking the valley. It had been covered in a snowy white blanket, making the view beautiful to look at as the rays of the early morning sun glistened off of the snow. He sat down on the swing that he had installed last fall before the snow had started to fall. Meanwhile, Amber was still asleep from working late into the night prior. A ding sounded from his phone on the table to the left of him. He picked it up and saw the notification of a text message. He sipped from his death adder brew that was almost as strong as a shot of straight adrenaline to the heart. When Mack typed in his password, he saw that Cole had messaged him asking if he had any plans for this weekend. As he read the text he thought about old memories with him and Cole. He then began to reply to Cole’s message when Amber woke up and was coming out to the porch wearing Mack’s red plaid flannel jacket that barely hung down passed her plump and wide hips that swayed as she walked. So if you got just the right angle you could see what pair of underwear she was wearing at that moment. Once he Finished typing his response to Cole's text Amber looked down at Mack and asked “Who was that baby” as Mack then looked up a little bit startled by Amber’s voice. Afterword’s he got up from the swing and set his cup down on the table and gave Amber a hug and kiss on her lips before sliding his hands down stopping momentarily on her plump and wide hips before replying to her question by saying “ that was Cole babe, wanting to know if we had any plans this weekend” As he then picked up his cup and walked back inside with Amber and said “hey baby do you have to work tonight “ before pouring a second cup from his coffee machine that brewed his death adder brew. As Amber followed Mack back inside the house before saying she was off for the night. As he finished pouring his second cup of coffee Amber went and sat down in the living room and turned on the sat top box and tuned to the local news to check the weather forecast for the day while Mack slowly creeps up behind Amber and slowly placed a hand on her shoulders spooking her momentarily before realizing that it was just her boyfriend Mack placing his hands on her shoulders. As he then slid one his hands down inside of his red plaid flannel jacket and slid his hand down onto her perky breast’s and grabbed a good fist full of her left breast as he loved to tease her by grabbing her breast from time to time, as he knew it was one of the many things that would make Amber start to feel aroused by how she new that all of her belongs to Mack, as all of Mack belongs to Amber. They had an agreement between themselves when it came to what was an acceptable thing to do to the others body. As he then leaned down next to her ear and said “ I love you my little princess “ knowing all to well that would cause her to start to become moist between her thighs and sooner or later soak her panties that she was wearing at that very moment. As Amber felt Mack’s warm breath down the side of her neck and hearing him tell her that he loved her arousing her more as he did so from the warmth of his breath. He then withdrawn his hand from being cupped around her breast and out of the red plaid flannel jacket she was wearing so he could go and sit down next to Amber and place a hand around the back of her shoulders as he has always done. When Amber looked over to him and said “have I been a good girl for daddy? “ clearly hinting at how much she was aroused at that moment. When he told her how he loved her.
When Mack then looked into Amber’s pale blue eyes and replied in a low tone to Amber saying “you will just have to find out if you have been a good girl in daddy’s eyes” before looking up to the Television mounted to the wall of his cabin. As he waited for the weekly forecast to come up Amber got up from her spot on the couch and walked over to Mack to plop her toned Slender figure onto Mack’s lap trying to be a good girl to Mack as she wanted something from him. As Amber plopped down in Mack’s lap, He then with out any hesitation wrapped his arms around her waist. Pulling her into him more so then she was anticipating, causing her to faintly squeal from the sudden jolt of motion. A little while later Mack’s phone once again dings. He then reaches over to see what the notification was from. Meanwhile Amber was solely focused on watching what was on the news. Mack had by that point picked up his phone and began to unlock the device with his thumb print before swiping the notification bar down to see it was an email. Once he has noticed that the email was on his long since dormant email. He used when he was working as a specialist for a black company known for some very shady events, As the paychecks where never less then six figures a month for him. Once he opened the email and started to read the encrypted email using the Cypher that he had memorized. Once he was finished reading the warning to him, He then deleted the email as he is maybe in danger due to a breach in there database. The organization he once worked for believes that he is one of those being targeted now by someone from a foreign radicalized regime hell bent on revenge for what they did almost a decade ago. Once Mack was done reading the email he then kindly asked Amber to get up, So he could fake having to go take a leak in the bathroom. Upon him going towards the bathroom he instead disappeared around the corner. As he went around the corner into his hidden arsenal that Amber didn’t know anything about. Amber not knowing about his past just through he was going to the restroom, So once he was hidden from her sight he quietly opened up the false wall and stepped foot in. Before closing it just as quietly as he had opened it. Once Mack was fully inside of the room, He began to walk over to the far side of the room and looking upon the reinforced steel and concrete door. That must have weighted a few hundred pounds in materials alone, He then began to turn the dial. First he spun the dial to the left then back to the right then ending upon the final digit, Before pulling the heavy door open so he could step into the fourteen inch thick reinforced concrete and steel walls to retrieve his custom, Seven sixty two by fifty one fully automatic battle rifle and a twenty five round box magazine and slide it into the magazine well of the rifles lower. Afterwards reaching up and pulling the charging handle rearward similar to the German style rifles of the similar caliber, To the final point of travel rearward before letting the spring tension send the carrier group home. Clambering the first round off of the magazine leaving the rifle in red status. Which to the untrained meant there was a loaded magazine with one round loaded into the chamber and the safety off ready to fire at a squeeze of the trigger. A few minutes later Amber called out to Mack asking if he fell in the toilet as at this point she was starting to have to go herself. As Mack could not hear Amber through the walls. Amber started to think that Mack fell asleep on the toilet and began to walk towards the bathroom when she saw the hidden wall slightly ajar. Just thinking it was because of the age of the cabin. Amber thus didn’t give it a second thought and kept on walking to the bathroom. Meanwhile Mack was still inside of his armory and didn’t notice amber walking by the door. As Amber walked the last few steps up to the bathroom she nocked on the door to the bathroom waiting for a response. As she waited for what felt like an eternity she opened the door as she felt like her bladder would explode at that point when she noticed Mack was not inside and then quickly lifted the lid leaving the seat portion of the toilet down. So she could drain her bladder while she was scrolling her social media applications she loved to look at. Once Mack was done in the armory he then began to quietly sneak out of the armory which is when he could hear Amber in the bathroom on the toilet. Once he was out of the hidden armory he then walked over to the bathroom and knocked on the door to ask if Amber needed anything as he was heading to town in a few minutes. As Amber was on the toilet she replied to Mack and said “if you could buy me some more tampons babe I would be thankful” as she then started to reach for the toilet paper to clean herself up from having to go pee. Mack then replied “sure thing sweetie is there any specific brand you wanted or just grab a package?” Amber then replied by saying “ Can you grab me the Blue and Purple box babe? ” As Mack then started to walk to the kitchen where the keys where to his War Wagon was before heading to the garage to take the War Wagon to town. After picking the keys up off the counter Mack then started walking to the garage with his rifle in his hand gripping the fore end just in front of the mag well. Once Mack got to his War Wagon, He stared to slip the key into the ignition waking up 572 cubic inch big block he put in himself. Which could put out a reasonable 700 horses before Mack got his hands on it. Now it was somewhere in the ballpark of 1100 horses from all the work he had put into the motor and the transmission. Which he learned the hard way how much transmission would be required to even use the that motor. As the 572 woke up with a thunderous boom that your make any other newer V8 owner jealous, Mack then slid the rifle over to the passengers seat and began to put his seatbelt on as it was a 5 point harness incase he was to roll the truck. Even though the truck was fully up armored against roll overs and collisions with steel bumpers and roll bars all of which where around a quarter inch thick at the thinnest. Meanwhile Amber then walked to the bedroom to get dressed for the day as she wanted to go to a concert she had bought tickets for, As the concert would start around two that day and it was now a quarter past ten in the morning. Which meant she only had a few hours before the concert and it was almost a two hour drive to get to the concert hall it was being held in. Meaning she would have to leave soon. Once she was fully dressed from what she has slept in she made her was out to the kitchen to make herself something to eat. After Amber decided what she would like for breakfast she started grabbing the required pans and bowls to make herself some pancakes. A little while later Mack returned home and was carrying in his rifle. Walking right past Amber not paying any heed to her as he went to the armory after tossing her the bag with the three big boxes of tampons she had asked Mack to pick up not realizing he would get such a large amount of them for her. She expected him to just get her the small box of twenty instead of brining back around ninety divided between the three carton’s he had bought her. As she then noticed the sour look on Mack’s face and asked him what was wrong. At this point Mack was starting to get irritated more by the fact it seemed like he could never retire peacefully from that line of work. As he then opened the false wall he had gone into earlier as Amber watched. As Mack walked into the hidden room and placed his old faithful on the bench he looked over to the rack he had and contemplated what belt fed to pull from the rack before reaching under the table and pressing the red button mounted to the table. Once Mack pressed the button a sizeable portion of the ceiling swung down revealing a set of twenty millimeter anti material rifles and fifty caliber semi automatic rifles as he then walked over to the twenty and started to un latch it from the restraints holding it in place. Meanwhile Amber was curios what Mack was doing so she walked towards Mack to see what was in that room she didn’t know about. As Ambers jaw dropped seeing all of those weapons in that one room she started to walk away scared Mack would harm her, When she then reached for her phone to call Cole whom was her brother whom was a year and a half older then her. To ask Cole what to do. A few rings later Cole picked up the phone saying “ What now sis? “ as Amber then started to ask Cole what she should do after seeing Mack’s arsenal. Once Cole realized what Amber was mumbling through the phone he asked her to describe the gun he was grabbing to get a since of the issue at hand. As Amber was not very familiar with fire arms she just said it was really huge and was bolted to the wall when Cole abruptly hung up the phone and began to call Mack’s arsenal room phone. Mack begrudgingly picked up the phone asking what Cole wanted knowing that the only person who knew that number was Cole. Cole then asked in one simple and to the point question “ How bad is it? “ when Mack said “very” before hanging up the phone. Cole instantly knew that shit was about to go down in town and started scrolling through his phone looking for the contacted labeled “Viper 6-6” before sending him a text that was encoded behind a false message. Which read “ todays going to be a Sunny day in town why don’t you bring the whole family over for a barbeque. “ before snapping the phone he had in half and tossed it in the fire place in his house. Therefore destroying the device so no one could ping the location off the device.
submitted by kunai1997 to The_Cabin [link] [comments]
Today; Monday, February 29th 2044 The sun was just rising when Mack had grabbed his coffee mug and stepped out on the porch. He opened the door slowly and walked out onto the porch of his cabin overlooking the valley. It had been covered in a snowy white blanket, making the view beautiful to look at as the rays of the early morning sun glistened off of the snow. He sat down on the swing that he had installed last fall before the snow had started to fall. Meanwhile, Amber was still asleep from working late into the night prior. A ding sounded from his phone on the table to the left of him. He picked it up and saw the notification of a text message. He sipped from his death adder brew that was almost as strong as a shot of straight adrenaline to the heart. When Mack typed in his password, he saw that Cole had messaged him asking if he had any plans for this weekend. As he read the text he thought about old memories with him and Cole. He then began to reply to Cole’s message when Amber woke up and was coming out to the porch wearing Mack’s red plaid flannel jacket that barely hung down passed her plump and wide hips that swayed as she walked. So if you got just the right angle you could see what pair of underwear she was wearing at that moment. Once he Finished typing his response to Cole's text Amber looked down at Mack and asked “Who was that baby” as Mack then looked up a little bit startled by Amber’s voice. Afterword’s he got up from the swing and set his cup down on the table and gave Amber a hug and kiss on her lips before sliding his hands down stopping momentarily on her plump and wide hips before replying to her question by saying “ that was Cole babe, wanting to know if we had any plans this weekend” As he then picked up his cup and walked back inside with Amber and said “hey baby do you have to work tonight “ before pouring a second cup from his coffee machine that brewed his death adder brew. As Amber followed Mack back inside the house before saying she was off for the night. As he finished pouring his second cup of coffee Amber went and sat down in the living room and turned on the sat top box and tuned to the local news to check the weather forecast for the day while Mack slowly creeps up behind Amber and slowly placed a hand on her shoulders spooking her momentarily before realizing that it was just her boyfriend Mack placing his hands on her shoulders. As he then slid one his hands down inside of his red plaid flannel jacket and slid his hand down onto her perky breast’s and grabbed a good fist full of her left breast as he loved to tease her by grabbing her breast from time to time, as he knew it was one of the many things that would make Amber start to feel aroused by how she new that all of her belongs to Mack, as all of Mack belongs to Amber. They had an agreement between themselves when it came to what was an acceptable thing to do to the others body. As he then leaned down next to her ear and said “ I love you my little princess “ knowing all to well that would cause her to start to become moist between her thighs and sooner or later soak her panties that she was wearing at that very moment. As Amber felt Mack’s warm breath down the side of her neck and hearing him tell her that he loved her arousing her more as he did so from the warmth of his breath. He then withdrawn his hand from being cupped around her breast and out of the red plaid flannel jacket she was wearing so he could go and sit down next to Amber and place a hand around the back of her shoulders as he has always done. When Amber looked over to him and said “have I been a good girl for daddy? “ clearly hinting at how much she was aroused at that moment. When he told her how he loved her.
When Mack then looked into Amber’s pale blue eyes and replied in a low tone to Amber saying “you will just have to find out if you have been a good girl in daddy’s eyes” before looking up to the Television mounted to the wall of his cabin. As he waited for the weekly forecast to come up Amber got up from her spot on the couch and walked over to Mack to plop her toned Slender figure onto Mack’s lap trying to be a good girl to Mack as she wanted something from him. As Amber plopped down in Mack’s lap, He then with out any hesitation wrapped his arms around her waist. Pulling her into him more so then she was anticipating, causing her to faintly squeal from the sudden jolt of motion. A little while later Mack’s phone once again dings. He then reaches over to see what the notification was from. Meanwhile Amber was solely focused on watching what was on the news. Mack had by that point picked up his phone and began to unlock the device with his thumb print before swiping the notification bar down to see it was an email. Once he has noticed that the email was on his long since dormant email. He used when he was working as a specialist for a black company known for some very shady events, As the paychecks where never less then six figures a month for him. Once he opened the email and started to read the encrypted email using the Cypher that he had memorized. Once he was finished reading the warning to him, He then deleted the email as he is maybe in danger due to a breach in there database. The organization he once worked for believes that he is one of those being targeted now by someone from a foreign radicalized regime hell bent on revenge for what they did almost a decade ago. Once Mack was done reading the email he then kindly asked Amber to get up, So he could fake having to go take a leak in the bathroom. Upon him going towards the bathroom he instead disappeared around the corner. As he went around the corner into his hidden arsenal that Amber didn’t know anything about. Amber not knowing about his past just through he was going to the restroom, So once he was hidden from her sight he quietly opened up the false wall and stepped foot in. Before closing it just as quietly as he had opened it. Once Mack was fully inside of the room, He began to walk over to the far side of the room and looking upon the reinforced steel and concrete door. That must have weighted a few hundred pounds in materials alone, He then began to turn the dial. First he spun the dial to the left then back to the right then ending upon the final digit, Before pulling the heavy door open so he could step into the fourteen inch thick reinforced concrete and steel walls to retrieve his custom, Seven sixty two by fifty one fully automatic battle rifle and a twenty five round box magazine and slide it into the magazine well of the rifles lower. Afterwards reaching up and pulling the charging handle rearward similar to the German style rifles of the similar caliber, To the final point of travel rearward before letting the spring tension send the carrier group home. Clambering the first round off of the magazine leaving the rifle in red status. Which to the untrained meant there was a loaded magazine with one round loaded into the chamber and the safety off ready to fire at a squeeze of the trigger. A few minutes later Amber called out to Mack asking if he fell in the toilet as at this point she was starting to have to go herself. As Mack could not hear Amber through the walls. Amber started to think that Mack fell asleep on the toilet and began to walk towards the bathroom when she saw the hidden wall slightly ajar. Just thinking it was because of the age of the cabin. Amber thus didn’t give it a second thought and kept on walking to the bathroom. Meanwhile Mack was still inside of his armory and didn’t notice amber walking by the door. As Amber walked the last few steps up to the bathroom she nocked on the door to the bathroom waiting for a response. As she waited for what felt like an eternity she opened the door as she felt like her bladder would explode at that point when she noticed Mack was not inside and then quickly lifted the lid leaving the seat portion of the toilet down. So she could drain her bladder while she was scrolling her social media applications she loved to look at. Once Mack was done in the armory he then began to quietly sneak out of the armory which is when he could hear Amber in the bathroom on the toilet. Once he was out of the hidden armory he then walked over to the bathroom and knocked on the door to ask if Amber needed anything as he was heading to town in a few minutes. As Amber was on the toilet she replied to Mack and said “if you could buy me some more tampons babe I would be thankful” as she then started to reach for the toilet paper to clean herself up from having to go pee. Mack then replied “sure thing sweetie is there any specific brand you wanted or just grab a package?” Amber then replied by saying “ Can you grab me the Blue and Purple box babe? ” As Mack then started to walk to the kitchen where the keys where to his War Wagon was before heading to the garage to take the War Wagon to town. After picking the keys up off the counter Mack then started walking to the garage with his rifle in his hand gripping the fore end just in front of the mag well. Once Mack got to his War Wagon, He stared to slip the key into the ignition waking up 572 cubic inch big block he put in himself. Which could put out a reasonable 700 horses before Mack got his hands on it. Now it was somewhere in the ballpark of 1100 horses from all the work he had put into the motor and the transmission. Which he learned the hard way how much transmission would be required to even use the that motor. As the 572 woke up with a thunderous boom that your make any other newer V8 owner jealous, Mack then slid the rifle over to the passengers seat and began to put his seatbelt on as it was a 5 point harness incase he was to roll the truck. Even though the truck was fully up armored against roll overs and collisions with steel bumpers and roll bars all of which where around a quarter inch thick at the thinnest. Meanwhile Amber then walked to the bedroom to get dressed for the day as she wanted to go to a concert she had bought tickets for, As the concert would start around two that day and it was now a quarter past ten in the morning. Which meant she only had a few hours before the concert and it was almost a two hour drive to get to the concert hall it was being held in. Meaning she would have to leave soon. Once she was fully dressed from what she has slept in she made her was out to the kitchen to make herself something to eat. After Amber decided what she would like for breakfast she started grabbing the required pans and bowls to make herself some pancakes. A little while later Mack returned home and was carrying in his rifle. Walking right past Amber not paying any heed to her as he went to the armory after tossing her the bag with the three big boxes of tampons she had asked Mack to pick up not realizing he would get such a large amount of them for her. She expected him to just get her the small box of twenty instead of brining back around ninety divided between the three carton’s he had bought her. As she then noticed the sour look on Mack’s face and asked him what was wrong. At this point Mack was starting to get irritated more by the fact it seemed like he could never retire peacefully from that line of work. As he then opened the false wall he had gone into earlier as Amber watched. As Mack walked into the hidden room and placed his old faithful on the bench he looked over to the rack he had and contemplated what belt fed to pull from the rack before reaching under the table and pressing the red button mounted to the table. Once Mack pressed the button a sizeable portion of the ceiling swung down revealing a set of twenty millimeter anti material rifles and fifty caliber semi automatic rifles as he then walked over to the twenty and started to un latch it from the restraints holding it in place. Meanwhile Amber was curios what Mack was doing so she walked towards Mack to see what was in that room she didn’t know about. As Ambers jaw dropped seeing all of those weapons in that one room she started to walk away scared Mack would harm her, When she then reached for her phone to call Cole whom was her brother whom was a year and a half older then her. To ask Cole what to do. A few rings later Cole picked up the phone saying “ What now sis? “ as Amber then started to ask Cole what she should do after seeing Mack’s arsenal. Once Cole realized what Amber was mumbling through the phone he asked her to describe the gun he was grabbing to get a since of the issue at hand. As Amber was not very familiar with fire arms she just said it was really huge and was bolted to the wall when Cole abruptly hung up the phone and began to call Mack’s arsenal room phone. Mack begrudgingly picked up the phone asking what Cole wanted knowing that the only person who knew that number was Cole. Cole then asked in one simple and to the point question “ How bad is it? “ when Mack said “very” before hanging up the phone. Cole instantly knew that shit was about to go down in town and started scrolling through his phone looking for the contacted labeled “Viper 6-6” before sending him a text that was encoded behind a false message. Which read “ todays going to be a Sunny day in town why don’t you bring the whole family over for a barbeque. “ before snapping the phone he had in half and tossed it in the fire place in his house. Therefore destroying the device so no one could ping the location off the device.
2024.05.09 06:49 Trash_Tia My mother has an extremely screwed up way of keeping me and my siblings under her control.
My siblings and I were always fighting.
I don't know if it was because we were three eighteen year olds stuck under the same roof, but we did not get along.
I couldn't wait to get to college.
Sitting between my brother and sister, the two of them fighting over the PlayStation, I'd had enough.
Mira elbowed me in the face TWICE, and Daniel threw a banana at my head at dinner. All I did was look at him, and he chose violence. The two of them were a nightmare to deal with. They were either fighting with each other, or fighting me.
Mom was upstairs on an important call, so we had to be quiet.
“You're pissing me off, now.” Daniel grumbled, chin resting on his knees, his gaze glued to the screen. Double jumping on a crate, he catapulted into a run, diving over small ravines carved into the ground and puddles of quicksand. “Get off of me!” He yelled, when Mira tried to snatch the controller.
The two of them fell into me, grappling for the controller, and I resisted a yell.
“Go on bonus!” Mira squeaked, and when he ran past it, she shoved him.
“Why didn't you go on the bonus level?! Look how many apples you're missing! Dude, let me do the bonus.”
“They're not apples, and no. Because you take forever.”
Mira shoved him, again, which in turn shoved me. “They're clearly apples!”
My brother made an exasperated noise. “Do they LOOK like apples? Have you ever seen an apple that looks like that?”
“Yes.” Mira threw her phone at me, and it just missed my face.
“Teddy, don't they look like apples?”
Daniel ignored her, his gaze glued to the screen.
“Daniel!” She hit him. “Danny! Hey! Daaaaannieeelllll.”
“I will literally throw the fucking controller at your head in a minute.”
She scoffed. “You wouldn't.”
He leaned away from her, pulling a face, tightening his grip on the controller. “If you keep distracting me, I will– ow! What was that even for?!”
Daniel straightened up, pausing the game and turning to our sister. “Are you deliberately trying to ruin my turn?”
Mira didn't answer, and I groaned into my knees.
When he pressed play, she was off again.
“Forward. Jump on the– oh, you missed the gem. Again.”
“I already have the gem!” He exploded back.
“Well, do the time trial!”
Daniel’s face was getting progressively redder. “I HAVE done the time trial! Are you blind?!”
“Go into that world! No, that one! Oh my god, Daniel, you're so annoying, why can't you let me have a turn?”
“Because you're ruining mine!”
I'm not sure what quiet means to Daniel and Mira, but screaming and shrieking at each other wasn't quiet.
“Mom’s on the phone.” I muttered, nudging my brother with my foot.
It wasn't my choice to sit squeezed next to him. Mom insisted on a photo with us together, and neither of us could be bothered moving. But after being kneed in the face twice, I was regretting my decision to stay put. When neither of them answered me, the two of them mesmerised by the stupid game, I cleared my throat.
“Mom is on the phone.” I repeated. “She said to keep our mouths shut.”
Daniel scoffed. “So? I'm eighteen. I can do what I want.” He muttered, eyes on the screen.
“You're yelling.” I straightened up, stretching out my legs.
“Don't be a bitch.” Mira prodded me. “The walls upstairs are literally soundproof.”
“Not in her bedroom!”
Tired of them both, I jumped up, called them both entitled brats, and slumped into the single seater near the door.
Daniel and Mira exchanged glances, then smirks, before my brother looked me dead in the eye, still slamming buttons.
I watched the little character run around in circles. “You do realize you were adopted, right?” he murmured, his gaze flicking to the game. “Mom told us not to tell you, because it'll upset you, but, yah,” he shrugged with a grin. “You're adopted, bro.”
Mira shoved a cushion in his face, but she was giggling.
“That's so mean!” She rolled her eyes. “Teddy, don't listen to him.” She winked.
“You're not adopted.”
I felt my eyes burn, my throat starting to choke up. I knew they were joking, but it hurt. The two said the same thing when I was twelve. It was my birthday, and Daniel was sitting on the counter, his legs swinging. He was sipping the devil's juice, though not so subtly, because he was clearly tipsy.
My brother held out his glass in a toast.
“Happy birthday, Teddy!” He said, gulping down his drink. “You. Are. Adopted.”
He really drew out the ahh sound.
“You are ahhhhhhhhdopted!”
His words snapped something inside me.
I threw my birthday cake in his face, and I was the one sent to my room.
Mira told me when we were littles, strapped in the back of Mom’s car.
“Can I tell you a secret?” She whispered, leaning over to whisper in my ear.
I nodded, and Mira giggled.
“You're not my brother.” She said, with a giant, cheesy grin.
I was getting pretty fucking sick of the ”lol, you're adopted!” joke.
I thought they'd grown out of it, but obviously not. It hurt like a bitch, because they had zero remorse. When I burst out crying on my 12th birthday, Daniel just rolled his eyes, muttering, “It's obvious.” I look nothing like Daniel and Mira. They were marginally attractive redheads. I was a mousy brunette with my father’s bad eyesight.
Mom explained I just looked a lot like our dead father.
While the other two resembled our mother. But that didn't stop the awkward stares when I revealed I was related to the two of them.
“Wait, really?” My friends said, on the first day of middle school.
Daniel slid past me and bopped me on the head, and I called him a fuckface.
My friend didn't believe me until I forced my brother to admit it himself.
“Yes.” He had said, with a smirk, bopping me again. This time hard enough to hurt. “I am related to this thing.”
Part of me wished I was adopted.
I jumped when a cushion hit me in my face, knocking off my glasses. I hated my brother. It was always target practise with my face, and the sofa cushions were unnecessarily hard.
The impact felt more akin to a soccer ball slamming into me.
“Dude, I'm kidding,” Daniel laughed, his attention going back to the game.
From what I remembered, I was sitting on the TV remote on my chair.
Slipping my hand down the crease, I reached for it, wrapping my hands around it. I felt burning resentment for him. For Mira. And turning off Crash Bandicoot would cause World War 3.
“You're an asshole.” I grumbled, playing with the remote.
“Urgh, you know I was jooooking,” my brother tipped his head back, his eyes flickering, matching the colours of the screen. “You're so fucking gullible.”
“You know it hurts me though.”
Daniel groaned, slamming buttons on the controller. “Teddy, we were joking. Obviously. We love you, man.” He shot me a smile that could have been genuine, but I had a feeling it wasn't.
“Do you want a turn?” He offered the controller. “Do you think you can beat Cortex?”
Mira planted her face in a pillow. “I thought I was going to do the boss level?”
Daniel's lip curled. “You can't even beat Crunch. That's, like, beginner level.”
When he held out the controller, I sighed, moving forwards to grab it.
“Thanks.”
Before I could take it, though, he held it back. “Are you going to tell Mom?”
I blinked. “That you said I'm adopted? Probably not. Why?”
Daniel’s gaze flicked to the remote in my hand, before he dived to his feet, his eyes suddenly frightened. I had never seen my brother this scared.
His expression seemed to crumble, and he stumbled back.
“Fuck.” he whispered, and behind me, Mira had gone deathly silent.
Her eyes were glued to the remote in my hand.
“What?” I held it up. “It's just the Apple TV remote.”
Daniel was paralysed, his eyes wide.
“Don't… tell… Mom.” He spoke in a slow, shuddery breath.
“What?”
Daniel’s hands went into his hair, clawing it out.
“Don't.” His voice came out in a whine. “Tell Mom.”
He was starting to freak me out, a shiver slowly sliding down my spine.
“It's just a remote.” I pointed it at the TV, stabbing OFF.
Daniel’s eyes widened. He jumped forwards.
“Don't!”
Before freezing in place.
I thought they were joking around. But then I waved my hands in front of them.
Daniel was completely frozen, mid jump towards me. When I stepped in front of him, something slimy wound its way up my throat. It wasn't just that he'd stopped, it was that every part of him had stopped. The breath in his lung, eyes unblinking, sweat freezing half way down his cheek. Poking at my brother’s hair, every strand had come to a halt.
Mira was the same. Sitting cross legged, a pillow pressed to her chest, the girl’s mouth was parted in a cry.
There were tears in her eyes that were not yet formed.
Her breath was gone.
When I held my hand in front of her nose and mouth, there was nothing.
Like she had…
My gaze found the remote in my hand.
Been switched off.
Initially, I dropped the thing, a hiss escaping my lips. But then I found myself on my knees, grasping for it, my heart thudding in my chest.
I could hear it, feel it, almost taste it.
I was alive and breathing, my heart pumping, my blood running. I lifted my head, staring at my brother.
Then Mira, still frozen.
I had turned my siblings off.
Holding my breath, I dangled the remote in front of me. It definitely wasn't for the TV.
There was a strange symbol on the back, a globe inside a heart.
United Parent’s society.
The thing itself was big in my hand, like it was too big.
There was a pause button, a stop, a play, and… something warm crept up my throat. Before I could stop myself, I was stabbing the rewind button.
It was like an impulse reaction.
Daniel came to life, before flying back into his original position.
I pressed play on him, and he blinked, before his eyes found mine.
“What did you do?” My brother whimpered. “How long was I–”
Stabbing the volume down button, I could no longer hear his voice.
His eyes widened, narrowing into slits.
I could read his lips perfectly.
"Did you TURN me down?! You little fucking shit, I'm going to murder you I'M GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU–"
I didn't realize I'd switched to volume up, my brother’s voice slamming into me.
I stabbed pause this time, which sent him into a trance-like state.
His arms fell to his sides, eyes flickering.
When I pressed play, I expected Daniel to start screaming at me.
But he didn't.
Instead, his lips curved into a cruel smile.
“Mimi Cartwright.” He said in a snort. “That's your real Mom’s name. I found the adoption papers in Mom’s office.” Daniel folded his arms. “Looks like she left you to rot, and my Mom took pity on you and brought you into our home. Which is kinda fucking pathetic. I bet your real Mom was a crackhead.”
I didn't realize I was squeezing another button.
The Home button.
I lifted my finger, and Daniel shook his head.
“Wait.” He whispered. “I didn't mean that–”
With my heart falling out of my chest, I pressed it again.
“I fucking hate you.” My brother spat. He straightened up. “I hate that I share a room with you, a name with you. I have to tell my friends I'm related to some fucking dumpster baby.” he choked on a laugh. “If I'm being honest, dude, I kinda wish you'd just fuck off.”
I don't think I knew I was crying.
“Teddy!” Daniel hissed, when I pressed Play.
“Let me explain! You need to understand that we,” he pointed to me, himself, and Mira. “We’re not supposed to be here!” Daniel started towards me, and I staggered back.
“Teddy, you have to listen to me,” he said. “Just think. How old do you think you are? Because I'm telling–”
Pause.
I wasn't interested in his excuses.
I don't know why I pressed it.
My heart ached. I thought I knew my brother. I thought I knew that he was an asshole, but could also be a role model, and a friend. But part of me wanted him gone, just like he wanted me gone.
I couldn't make him disappear from the world completely.
But I could humiliate him, sending him into a frenzied rewind dance.
Stabbing rewind, I pointed the remote at Daniel.
Then Mira.
Something seemed to jolt in both of them. Daniel did the staggering back dance again, flying back to his position on the couch. It was him was rewinding, not the world around him.
I got impatient, waiting for something funny to happen, like to see if Daniel would rewind all the back to dinner.
Though it was when I was clicking the button repeatedly, when I started to notice his eyes. Terrified. His lips were pleading with me, and when I looked closer, a single drop of red ran from his nose. Fuck. I dropped the remote. Then I stamped on it, expecting them to stop.
No.
Their faces began to concave, eyes shrinking. Mira’s face getting smaller and smaller, and I realized they were getting younger. Something inhuman clawed its way from my throat. No.
I didn't fucking want this!
Before I knew what was happening, a ten year old Daniel sat in front of me kicking his legs. His eyes were innocent and confused. Then a five year old Daniel.
I was holding the remote, screaming at it to Stop.
My brother was unravelling in front of me, and I couldn't fucking stop it.
I dropped into my knees and begged him, sobbing with him that I fucking loved him, even if he didn't love me.
I would do anything, if that meant getting him back.
Forward didn't do anything.
There was a lock symbol on it.
Child lock.
Mira’s body tipped onto the sofa, a toddler one minute, then a baby, and then a fetus coming apart, blood pooling across upholstery. When the remote slipped from my clammy hands, my siblings were gone, not physically, but I was starting to…
Forget.
What was my brother’s name again?
It began with a D...
Mira, however, I could still remember. But she's foggy, distant, like she was fading.
A banshee screech wailed from upstairs.
Mom came hobbling downstairs. Pregnant.
But her bump was getting smaller and smaller.
I didn't know what to say. I waved the remote.
I didn't mean it. Fuck. I didn't mean it!
Mom’s eyes were wide, terrified, when she grabbed the remote off of me.
Before pointing it at me.
I felt that switch. That jolt, putting me on pause. Her finger moved to rewind. But this time, forward.
Except nothing happened. I saw that in Mom’s helpless expression. I saw her realization hit, before it slammed into me.
It didn't work on me.
Because I was adopted.
“Mom.” I held up my hands, and she was calm.
Mom told me to sit down. She got me a glass of orange juice, and when I was sipping it, she reached into her pocket and pulled out another remote.
This time it was blue.
I remember falling back, knocking the juice on the floor.
“I'm sorry, sweetie.” She told me, “But I really do enjoy being your Mommy.”
I felt that jolt again, this time in my brain.
Like a lightning bolt travelling through me.
I felt everything.
My own body, my mind, everything, being rewound.
My body jerked back and forth, forwards and backwards, in a manic frantic dance.
All of my breath was gone.
My thoughts.
Gone.
Before I stopped, exhausted, slumped onto the couch.
My brother’s arm nudged me. It felt familiar.
His name was…
Daniel.
His body was rigid against mine. Trembling.
“Go on bonus.” Mira’s voice was a lot quieter, more of a whimper. Lifting my head, my bones ached, my breath coming out in sharp pants. “Why didn't you go on the bonus level?” she leaned forward, her voice more of a breath.
“Look how many…apples you're missing.”
“They're not apples.” Daniel whispered. It sounded like he was trying to remember the argument from earlier.
His gaze was on the screen, half lidded eyes.
Maybe I was crazy, but I could have sworn my brother looked younger.
I jumped to my feet, my head spinning, but Daniel’s arm pinned me down. He was still playing the game, but his eyes kept frantically flicking to the corner of the room.
Daniel didn't speak, but he didn't have to.
Across the room, Mom was smiling at us.
She didn't have a mouth, inky black oblivion stretched wide open.
Fuck.
I don't remember my Mom not having a mouth.
What happened to her?
What happened to me?
On the floor was my spilled orange juice still seeping into the carpet.
I went to bed early. I'm under my sheets right now. I don't think Mom can hear me.
Please help me. I don't know what to do.
How can my mother rewind me if I'm adopted?
But I don't think I'm the only one who's adopted.
submitted by Trash_Tia to nosleep [link] [comments]
I don't know if it was because we were three eighteen year olds stuck under the same roof, but we did not get along.
I couldn't wait to get to college.
Sitting between my brother and sister, the two of them fighting over the PlayStation, I'd had enough.
Mira elbowed me in the face TWICE, and Daniel threw a banana at my head at dinner. All I did was look at him, and he chose violence. The two of them were a nightmare to deal with. They were either fighting with each other, or fighting me.
Mom was upstairs on an important call, so we had to be quiet.
“You're pissing me off, now.” Daniel grumbled, chin resting on his knees, his gaze glued to the screen. Double jumping on a crate, he catapulted into a run, diving over small ravines carved into the ground and puddles of quicksand. “Get off of me!” He yelled, when Mira tried to snatch the controller.
The two of them fell into me, grappling for the controller, and I resisted a yell.
“Go on bonus!” Mira squeaked, and when he ran past it, she shoved him.
“Why didn't you go on the bonus level?! Look how many apples you're missing! Dude, let me do the bonus.”
“They're not apples, and no. Because you take forever.”
Mira shoved him, again, which in turn shoved me. “They're clearly apples!”
My brother made an exasperated noise. “Do they LOOK like apples? Have you ever seen an apple that looks like that?”
“Yes.” Mira threw her phone at me, and it just missed my face.
“Teddy, don't they look like apples?”
Daniel ignored her, his gaze glued to the screen.
“Daniel!” She hit him. “Danny! Hey! Daaaaannieeelllll.”
“I will literally throw the fucking controller at your head in a minute.”
She scoffed. “You wouldn't.”
He leaned away from her, pulling a face, tightening his grip on the controller. “If you keep distracting me, I will– ow! What was that even for?!”
Daniel straightened up, pausing the game and turning to our sister. “Are you deliberately trying to ruin my turn?”
Mira didn't answer, and I groaned into my knees.
When he pressed play, she was off again.
“Forward. Jump on the– oh, you missed the gem. Again.”
“I already have the gem!” He exploded back.
“Well, do the time trial!”
Daniel’s face was getting progressively redder. “I HAVE done the time trial! Are you blind?!”
“Go into that world! No, that one! Oh my god, Daniel, you're so annoying, why can't you let me have a turn?”
“Because you're ruining mine!”
I'm not sure what quiet means to Daniel and Mira, but screaming and shrieking at each other wasn't quiet.
“Mom’s on the phone.” I muttered, nudging my brother with my foot.
It wasn't my choice to sit squeezed next to him. Mom insisted on a photo with us together, and neither of us could be bothered moving. But after being kneed in the face twice, I was regretting my decision to stay put. When neither of them answered me, the two of them mesmerised by the stupid game, I cleared my throat.
“Mom is on the phone.” I repeated. “She said to keep our mouths shut.”
Daniel scoffed. “So? I'm eighteen. I can do what I want.” He muttered, eyes on the screen.
“You're yelling.” I straightened up, stretching out my legs.
“Don't be a bitch.” Mira prodded me. “The walls upstairs are literally soundproof.”
“Not in her bedroom!”
Tired of them both, I jumped up, called them both entitled brats, and slumped into the single seater near the door.
Daniel and Mira exchanged glances, then smirks, before my brother looked me dead in the eye, still slamming buttons.
I watched the little character run around in circles. “You do realize you were adopted, right?” he murmured, his gaze flicking to the game. “Mom told us not to tell you, because it'll upset you, but, yah,” he shrugged with a grin. “You're adopted, bro.”
Mira shoved a cushion in his face, but she was giggling.
“That's so mean!” She rolled her eyes. “Teddy, don't listen to him.” She winked.
“You're not adopted.”
I felt my eyes burn, my throat starting to choke up. I knew they were joking, but it hurt. The two said the same thing when I was twelve. It was my birthday, and Daniel was sitting on the counter, his legs swinging. He was sipping the devil's juice, though not so subtly, because he was clearly tipsy.
My brother held out his glass in a toast.
“Happy birthday, Teddy!” He said, gulping down his drink. “You. Are. Adopted.”
He really drew out the ahh sound.
“You are ahhhhhhhhdopted!”
His words snapped something inside me.
I threw my birthday cake in his face, and I was the one sent to my room.
Mira told me when we were littles, strapped in the back of Mom’s car.
“Can I tell you a secret?” She whispered, leaning over to whisper in my ear.
I nodded, and Mira giggled.
“You're not my brother.” She said, with a giant, cheesy grin.
I was getting pretty fucking sick of the ”lol, you're adopted!” joke.
I thought they'd grown out of it, but obviously not. It hurt like a bitch, because they had zero remorse. When I burst out crying on my 12th birthday, Daniel just rolled his eyes, muttering, “It's obvious.” I look nothing like Daniel and Mira. They were marginally attractive redheads. I was a mousy brunette with my father’s bad eyesight.
Mom explained I just looked a lot like our dead father.
While the other two resembled our mother. But that didn't stop the awkward stares when I revealed I was related to the two of them.
“Wait, really?” My friends said, on the first day of middle school.
Daniel slid past me and bopped me on the head, and I called him a fuckface.
My friend didn't believe me until I forced my brother to admit it himself.
“Yes.” He had said, with a smirk, bopping me again. This time hard enough to hurt. “I am related to this thing.”
Part of me wished I was adopted.
I jumped when a cushion hit me in my face, knocking off my glasses. I hated my brother. It was always target practise with my face, and the sofa cushions were unnecessarily hard.
The impact felt more akin to a soccer ball slamming into me.
“Dude, I'm kidding,” Daniel laughed, his attention going back to the game.
From what I remembered, I was sitting on the TV remote on my chair.
Slipping my hand down the crease, I reached for it, wrapping my hands around it. I felt burning resentment for him. For Mira. And turning off Crash Bandicoot would cause World War 3.
“You're an asshole.” I grumbled, playing with the remote.
“Urgh, you know I was jooooking,” my brother tipped his head back, his eyes flickering, matching the colours of the screen. “You're so fucking gullible.”
“You know it hurts me though.”
Daniel groaned, slamming buttons on the controller. “Teddy, we were joking. Obviously. We love you, man.” He shot me a smile that could have been genuine, but I had a feeling it wasn't.
“Do you want a turn?” He offered the controller. “Do you think you can beat Cortex?”
Mira planted her face in a pillow. “I thought I was going to do the boss level?”
Daniel's lip curled. “You can't even beat Crunch. That's, like, beginner level.”
When he held out the controller, I sighed, moving forwards to grab it.
“Thanks.”
Before I could take it, though, he held it back. “Are you going to tell Mom?”
I blinked. “That you said I'm adopted? Probably not. Why?”
Daniel’s gaze flicked to the remote in my hand, before he dived to his feet, his eyes suddenly frightened. I had never seen my brother this scared.
His expression seemed to crumble, and he stumbled back.
“Fuck.” he whispered, and behind me, Mira had gone deathly silent.
Her eyes were glued to the remote in my hand.
“What?” I held it up. “It's just the Apple TV remote.”
Daniel was paralysed, his eyes wide.
“Don't… tell… Mom.” He spoke in a slow, shuddery breath.
“What?”
Daniel’s hands went into his hair, clawing it out.
“Don't.” His voice came out in a whine. “Tell Mom.”
He was starting to freak me out, a shiver slowly sliding down my spine.
“It's just a remote.” I pointed it at the TV, stabbing OFF.
Daniel’s eyes widened. He jumped forwards.
“Don't!”
Before freezing in place.
I thought they were joking around. But then I waved my hands in front of them.
Daniel was completely frozen, mid jump towards me. When I stepped in front of him, something slimy wound its way up my throat. It wasn't just that he'd stopped, it was that every part of him had stopped. The breath in his lung, eyes unblinking, sweat freezing half way down his cheek. Poking at my brother’s hair, every strand had come to a halt.
Mira was the same. Sitting cross legged, a pillow pressed to her chest, the girl’s mouth was parted in a cry.
There were tears in her eyes that were not yet formed.
Her breath was gone.
When I held my hand in front of her nose and mouth, there was nothing.
Like she had…
My gaze found the remote in my hand.
Been switched off.
Initially, I dropped the thing, a hiss escaping my lips. But then I found myself on my knees, grasping for it, my heart thudding in my chest.
I could hear it, feel it, almost taste it.
I was alive and breathing, my heart pumping, my blood running. I lifted my head, staring at my brother.
Then Mira, still frozen.
I had turned my siblings off.
Holding my breath, I dangled the remote in front of me. It definitely wasn't for the TV.
There was a strange symbol on the back, a globe inside a heart.
United Parent’s society.
The thing itself was big in my hand, like it was too big.
There was a pause button, a stop, a play, and… something warm crept up my throat. Before I could stop myself, I was stabbing the rewind button.
It was like an impulse reaction.
Daniel came to life, before flying back into his original position.
I pressed play on him, and he blinked, before his eyes found mine.
“What did you do?” My brother whimpered. “How long was I–”
Stabbing the volume down button, I could no longer hear his voice.
His eyes widened, narrowing into slits.
I could read his lips perfectly.
"Did you TURN me down?! You little fucking shit, I'm going to murder you I'M GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU–"
I didn't realize I'd switched to volume up, my brother’s voice slamming into me.
I stabbed pause this time, which sent him into a trance-like state.
His arms fell to his sides, eyes flickering.
When I pressed play, I expected Daniel to start screaming at me.
But he didn't.
Instead, his lips curved into a cruel smile.
“Mimi Cartwright.” He said in a snort. “That's your real Mom’s name. I found the adoption papers in Mom’s office.” Daniel folded his arms. “Looks like she left you to rot, and my Mom took pity on you and brought you into our home. Which is kinda fucking pathetic. I bet your real Mom was a crackhead.”
I didn't realize I was squeezing another button.
The Home button.
I lifted my finger, and Daniel shook his head.
“Wait.” He whispered. “I didn't mean that–”
With my heart falling out of my chest, I pressed it again.
“I fucking hate you.” My brother spat. He straightened up. “I hate that I share a room with you, a name with you. I have to tell my friends I'm related to some fucking dumpster baby.” he choked on a laugh. “If I'm being honest, dude, I kinda wish you'd just fuck off.”
I don't think I knew I was crying.
“Teddy!” Daniel hissed, when I pressed Play.
“Let me explain! You need to understand that we,” he pointed to me, himself, and Mira. “We’re not supposed to be here!” Daniel started towards me, and I staggered back.
“Teddy, you have to listen to me,” he said. “Just think. How old do you think you are? Because I'm telling–”
Pause.
I wasn't interested in his excuses.
I don't know why I pressed it.
My heart ached. I thought I knew my brother. I thought I knew that he was an asshole, but could also be a role model, and a friend. But part of me wanted him gone, just like he wanted me gone.
I couldn't make him disappear from the world completely.
But I could humiliate him, sending him into a frenzied rewind dance.
Stabbing rewind, I pointed the remote at Daniel.
Then Mira.
Something seemed to jolt in both of them. Daniel did the staggering back dance again, flying back to his position on the couch. It was him was rewinding, not the world around him.
I got impatient, waiting for something funny to happen, like to see if Daniel would rewind all the back to dinner.
Though it was when I was clicking the button repeatedly, when I started to notice his eyes. Terrified. His lips were pleading with me, and when I looked closer, a single drop of red ran from his nose. Fuck. I dropped the remote. Then I stamped on it, expecting them to stop.
No.
Their faces began to concave, eyes shrinking. Mira’s face getting smaller and smaller, and I realized they were getting younger. Something inhuman clawed its way from my throat. No.
I didn't fucking want this!
Before I knew what was happening, a ten year old Daniel sat in front of me kicking his legs. His eyes were innocent and confused. Then a five year old Daniel.
I was holding the remote, screaming at it to Stop.
My brother was unravelling in front of me, and I couldn't fucking stop it.
I dropped into my knees and begged him, sobbing with him that I fucking loved him, even if he didn't love me.
I would do anything, if that meant getting him back.
Forward didn't do anything.
There was a lock symbol on it.
Child lock.
Mira’s body tipped onto the sofa, a toddler one minute, then a baby, and then a fetus coming apart, blood pooling across upholstery. When the remote slipped from my clammy hands, my siblings were gone, not physically, but I was starting to…
Forget.
What was my brother’s name again?
It began with a D...
Mira, however, I could still remember. But she's foggy, distant, like she was fading.
A banshee screech wailed from upstairs.
Mom came hobbling downstairs. Pregnant.
But her bump was getting smaller and smaller.
I didn't know what to say. I waved the remote.
I didn't mean it. Fuck. I didn't mean it!
Mom’s eyes were wide, terrified, when she grabbed the remote off of me.
Before pointing it at me.
I felt that switch. That jolt, putting me on pause. Her finger moved to rewind. But this time, forward.
Except nothing happened. I saw that in Mom’s helpless expression. I saw her realization hit, before it slammed into me.
It didn't work on me.
Because I was adopted.
“Mom.” I held up my hands, and she was calm.
Mom told me to sit down. She got me a glass of orange juice, and when I was sipping it, she reached into her pocket and pulled out another remote.
This time it was blue.
I remember falling back, knocking the juice on the floor.
“I'm sorry, sweetie.” She told me, “But I really do enjoy being your Mommy.”
I felt that jolt again, this time in my brain.
Like a lightning bolt travelling through me.
I felt everything.
My own body, my mind, everything, being rewound.
My body jerked back and forth, forwards and backwards, in a manic frantic dance.
All of my breath was gone.
My thoughts.
Gone.
Before I stopped, exhausted, slumped onto the couch.
My brother’s arm nudged me. It felt familiar.
His name was…
Daniel.
His body was rigid against mine. Trembling.
“Go on bonus.” Mira’s voice was a lot quieter, more of a whimper. Lifting my head, my bones ached, my breath coming out in sharp pants. “Why didn't you go on the bonus level?” she leaned forward, her voice more of a breath.
“Look how many…apples you're missing.”
“They're not apples.” Daniel whispered. It sounded like he was trying to remember the argument from earlier.
His gaze was on the screen, half lidded eyes.
Maybe I was crazy, but I could have sworn my brother looked younger.
I jumped to my feet, my head spinning, but Daniel’s arm pinned me down. He was still playing the game, but his eyes kept frantically flicking to the corner of the room.
Daniel didn't speak, but he didn't have to.
Across the room, Mom was smiling at us.
She didn't have a mouth, inky black oblivion stretched wide open.
Fuck.
I don't remember my Mom not having a mouth.
What happened to her?
What happened to me?
On the floor was my spilled orange juice still seeping into the carpet.
I went to bed early. I'm under my sheets right now. I don't think Mom can hear me.
Please help me. I don't know what to do.
How can my mother rewind me if I'm adopted?
But I don't think I'm the only one who's adopted.
2024.05.09 04:51 neverdoityourself What’s been working for me
 | Basically, for proportions, I loosely follow the King Arthur Naturally leavened sourdough bread recipe by Susan Miller https://www.kingarthurbaking.com/recipes/naturally-leavened-sourdough-bread-recipe submitted by neverdoityourself to Sourdough [link] [comments] Following technique variations: To make the starter used in the actual bread, i pull about 80-100g from my existing starter batch, which might be kept at 40- 50 F or in the fridge and kinda wanting for attention. Then about 200 g flour and 200 g water. I often use half the brown bag whole wheat for starter, half bread flour. I leave the newly mixed starter jar above the oven vents than blow out hot air, with a bowl under it in case it overflows, or in a Brod proofer also with a bowl for overflow, set to 80-99F depending how much i want to rush it Once it peaks, i basically use almost all of it, following the recipe, except often substitute bread flour and substitute some rye flour for the whole wheat, sometimes i get sloppy by 10-20 g and go by feel. I always use the spray bottle technique, wet hands, and dough scraper, instead of a floured surface. I do the first mix in a bowl, then switch bowls and usually use a flat surface after the first 20 minute rest for the salt and stretch and folds. I don’t always do as many stretch and folds. Sometimes i just do one set, then shape and put in the bannetons with rice flour. I use the washable bannetons from breadtopia. Preheated dutch oven at 450 - 480 F based on whims or what else is in the oven, but not really a method to the madness. I flip the shaped doughs onto a plate with a parchment paper, and use the parchment paper to lift it into the hot dutch oven. Immediately after flipping to the plate, and right Before i take the preheated dutch oven(s) out i do the lame slashing - used to use a serrated knife, now i blade-hold the most commonly pictured razor brand, haven’t gotten a cut yet … Set timer for 20 minutes, then insert thermoworks smoke probe and replace lid. Continue baking until thermometer alarm goes off for 205 F, then remove and allow to cool on a rack for however long it takes to seem like it probably reached room temperature, or longer I get roughly the same result regardless of variations, but if i wanted to learn something, i guess it would be better control over the crumb. Once i forgot to put the dough away after the first rest, and it may have overproofed - escaped the bowl that was covering it; it actually salvaged into a pretty good pan pizza crust ( olive oil in cast iron, also similarly described on King Arthur, though accompanied by a commercially yeasted recipe.) |
2024.05.09 03:49 No-Dragonfruit-6102 The Eternal Occupation
-I- -I- -I- -I- -I- -I- -I- -I- -I- -I- -I- -I- -I- -I- -I- -I- -I- -I- -I- -I- -I- -I- -I- -I- -I- -I- -I- -I- -I- -I- -I- -I- -I- -I- -I-
Utrecht, Confederation Administrative Military Peacekeeping Zone Doorta (Former Kingdom of the Netherlands)
May 8, 1945
---------------------------------------------------------------------
Isa Visser
Holland. The land of tulips.
The land under eternal occupation.
My home.
When the Nazis came in 1940, my home town of Utrecht was turned upside down. The war was quick and I hardly even remembered it until the Wehrmacht began to strut freely in our town. At first, we did our best to ignore the grey troops in the streets. But eventually, the Jews of our town began to disappear without a trace.
I didn’t really think much of it, the rumours were horrendous but unfounded. I knew the Nazis preached something about anti-Semetism, but I never really thought anything of malice was happening to the Jews. Besides, the Germans were mean and pushy to all of us, shoving us along like prisoners or attacking us without reason.
Some collaborated with them, but most despised them. However, true anger arose once food began to fade from the shelves. Rationing was in full effect and Mama had to come up with new thinner recipes just for us to get by.
By the time 1943 rolled around, just when we thought that things couldn’t get worse, the Confederation came.
At first, it was some Allied and some Axis aircraft getting blown out of the sky by seemingly nothing. Then some astronomers kept on saying that there were a billion asteroids in the sky. Their estimates put many of them at the size of the Vatican! The world didn’t mind this developing situation as the Nazis tried everything they could to knock both Red Russia and the United Kingdom from the war.
Eventually, they landed, and the world was not prepared in the slightest for their arrival. They didn’t shell any of our cities, even though they could’ve turned all of them to dust in a flash. Not even that American ‘atom bomb’ project could’ve saved us, even if it was somehow made in time for their arrival.
Their troops swiftly subdued the superpowers in under a month. The Soviet Red Army, the American US Army, the British Royal Army, and the previously feared German Wehrmacht were no match for the very advanced and very coordinated men and machines of the Confederation. Sure, our tanks gave them a good scare just as much as the Russian rocket artillery, whistling bombs, and wailing Stukas, but those alone weren’t war-winning weapons.
The world surrendered in Versailles and the post-war world was negotiated in the places that the Allied Powers wanted to negotiate with each other. Yalta, Tehran, Cairo, and the Germans offered Magdeburg and Potsdam too for negotiations.
As it turned out, the Confederation didn’t want us dead or enslaved. Instead, they just wanted to occupy us and help us forward from our brutal wars. I couldn’t really blame them, but then again, their soldiers were the fearsome bullet-proof beasts that could, and had, brutally mutilated and even devoured human soldiers resisting.
Even with those setbacks, the total number of deaths in the Verrassingsoorlog only reached an impressive and scary 1 million. Never surpassing that compared to the nearly 50-60 million corpse pile the world was already stuck in.
Now, the Netherlands as a nation was disbanded. We were still Dutch through and through, and all humans still used the old borders to define land and places. But according to the dozen species entente that conquered us, we were now a hundred occupation zones with the ruling of each zone being distributed to what species got there and captured it first.
The Netherlands, as well as the rest of the Benelux, Northwestern Germany, Denmark, and Calais, were now a part of the ‘Doorta’ zone. Doorta. What a dumb name! The Nvouw in charge named it after the flowers and plant life of the region which made them nostalgic for their homes. There were some rumours that they’d give us our old names back, but that was just hope at this point.
“Isa! Can you quickly run down to Mr Achter’s store to get some butter? I need it for the cookies!”
“Ja, mam!” I called back, setting down the basket of eggs I was carrying. Mama was restocking her depleted goods from the morning rush. Now, she was making new foods for the afternoon rush. It was a very tight schedule that she somehow perfected with robotic efficiency and a warm smile that was the complement of every serving. Now that people had stable homes and jobs once more, they could now enjoy the wonders of life, like Mama’s cooking.
The Confederation weren’t really all that bad once the gunfire ceased. They stayed true to their word. They fixed our country’s buildings and roads, they brought peace and stability in a way, and on a personal note, they gave me a chance to learn Mama’s cooking with some real ingredients rather than some Fanta crap or vegetable peels.
But their soldiers patrolled our streets like hawks. The aliens seemed to best us in everything, hearing, strength, agility, speed, marksmanship, and overall better traits like fangs, venom, appendages, snouts, tails, frills, thorns, and many other animal-like characteristics. But the soldiers were nice and most of the time, didn’t care about us and just let me and my friends play tag. Goodness, some of Felshans even taught some of the boys war tactics while they played war games last week!
I quickly grabbed my late father’s old bulky satchel and patted my bunned-up hair as I walked back into the kitchen to see Mama zooming from baking pies to sizzling batters like a robot. Her eyes then fixed on me as her smile crested her white face, she quickly gave me a tight hug and handed me some guilders for my little expedition.
The Dutch guilder was worthless according to the aliens, who wanted us using their standardised tolija instead. Of course, no one cared and each nation still used their reichsmark, pound, ruble, peso, dollar, guilder, franc, or whatever they had before the first war even began.
I tightly hugged her back and kissed her cheek as she reciprocated the deed. Mama was the best mother one could have. She was loving, good at cooking, good at knitting, and calm and quiet. She would never shout unless I burned down a farm or something.
“Mmm!” I hummed smelling the apple pie from the oven. The warm and delicious apple smell mixed with the doughy batter simply created a scent that one could only find in heaven.
“Ask him for the butter from Rotterdam, the ones from Amsterdam don’t mix well with the cookie stuff like the chips, lemons, sugar, or—”
“I get it, Mama!” I punctuated her typical verbose lecture, shoving the guilders into my pocket. “Rotterdam butter.”
“Zeer goed,” she smiled. “Now off you go!”
Dashing out of the kitchen to the main café, I waved in greeting to some of the people already there. Most of them were either young people doing work, or old people playing chess. These were things you could do anywhere else, but the reason why they were here, was for the food and drinks.
“Where are you going, Isa?” the old Mr Maes asked me, looking up from his little thick novel. He was Flemish and was a veteran of the Great War. He served in the Somme, and Passchendaele, but mostly served in Belgium and Calais. The only answer he gave to me on why he was fighting in France proper was: “I was there to beat the Germans back on every front and every town from the Channel to Switzerland.”
“To get some butter from the store. That’s all,” I replied with a warm grin. I then slipped out of the store onto the lively streets as I dashed down the cobble roads towards Mr Achter’s place. Utrecht was still as bustling as it was before the war. I was born in 1934, so I knew the city well enough before the war to get around quickly.
Mr Achter’s store was down the street and left around the corner shop and then it was down a little incline at the end of the next street as a corner store of its own. I quickly zoomed across the road to the other sidewalk before I ran towards the corner of the street.
I didn’t think or register anything as I weaved through some people and snapped around the corner only to come into a collision trajectory with two shadows that blocked the sun. I couldn’t stop myself in time before a little gust of wind slapped me and now suddenly, the sun was hitting my face again.
Now, instead of ramming into huge shadows, I was on a collision course with a street pole. I braced for the surge of pain, but that also changed until I was frozen upright in under a second.
Reorienting from the random situation, I dizzily readjusted my focus only to now face-to-face with a Nvouw and a Felsha that eyed me up with composure. My blood ran cold, especially with the Nvouw present.
“Be more careful next time, ok?” the Felsha advised as my eyes fixed on him. They were scaled lizards that were as blue as the deep sea. They had snouts with at least 100 fangs just packed into there in such a scarily neat fashion. Their eyes were glowing aqua and they had little prongs and “D” shaped animal ears. Not to mention the bajillion thorns that were dawned on their backs like a cape of bee’s stingers.
Add that with the fact that they were a good two-and-a-half metres tall, and you got the perfect killing machine. But, regardless of their traits, they were probably the nicest of the two occupational species here. Which was a pretty low bar to pass anyway due to the evil of the other demon that I had also stupidly bumped into.
The Felsha soldier in front of me tilted his head and wagged his humongous tail in patience for a response from me. That’s another thing, their spiky tails were at least as long as Mama if she was horizontal. As if these things weren't deadly enough on their own.
“Y-yes,” I replied, a bit scared. “I-I’m sorry.”
“Aw, don’t worry,” the Nvouw replied for the Felsha as I snapped my head to meet him. “You’re just a kid, aren’t you? What are you out for?”
The Nvouw were the ones who occupied the Benelux first, arriving in their skyships randomly. I didn’t even know they were in the Benelux until they began to shepherd the surrendering Germans through the streets after they captured Utrecht. Some of them were covered with human blood. I didn’t know why until they spoke with each other, and then I could see blood covering their large main quadruple fangs and their smaller fangs too.
They ate the German soldiers.
Now, I didn’t like the Nazis, they were mean and tyrannical. But, they were still humans. Sometimes, they’d give me chocolate, sometimes they’d help me around, and sometimes they were understanding when I wanted to go out past curfew to buy some goods from the always-open Mr Achter. They were humans and they were merciful. But never, never, did I want to kill them. And never, never, never, never did I ever even think of wanting to eat them.
And yet, the Nvouw had done it and even enjoyed it. They mowed through many German squads before the garrison here even knew it. By that point, it was too late and they surrendered to the Nvouw, who could just zip up to them and tear them apart in a second if they wanted.
As a result, it was the Nvouw that I feared the most. They weren’t the reason for anything bad in my life, but the first impression I got of them was one of them being merciless brutes and man-eaters. My fear of them is probably why my mouth was zipped shut and I looked down to the ground in terror, resisting the urge to whimper.
My face was hot like the sun above and my hands fidgeted behind me as I simply puckered my mouth and faced the floor. I didn’t want to be in such a predicament. Maybe if I went slower, I wouldn’t be here. But now here I was, and I wanted to disappear in a snap so I could escape these soldiers.
“What are you out for?” the Nvouw repeated to no avail as I did my best to resist crying. My body went into a million different scenarios of how this would end. It could gut me here! If I tried to run, it’d just do it quicker.
“Citizen, I will not repeat myself,” the Nvouw asked once more with agitation. It seems that this beast had a chip on his shoulder for insubordination. But then again, maybe it was just me as I began to hyperventilate, more tears pushing against my eyes and probably making them bulge.
Not even the strongest dike could hold the deluge ready.
When the Nvouw came, Mama hid me in the house. Every time we left the café she brought me with her. I couldn’t be alone. She always kept my head pressed against her and she hugged me until we reached wherever we wanted to go. She did all the talking when the Nvouw would stop us for ID or just to converse. I never wanted to be face-to-face with one, and even worse, I wasn’t ready.
“Answer me,” the Nvouw asked again with its tentacles fluttering in annoyance.
Their tentacles obstructed their fangs and powerful teeth. But, if they just pulled up their tentacles, you could see every gut-cutting fang in their mouth. I didn’t reply and this only seemed to agitate the Nvouw as it hissed with its fangs. Those pristine white teeth were the ones that cut through the Germans like paper. Those were the incarnates of suffering themselves. Those damned fangs.
With that, I couldn’t help myself as a little sob escaped me and tears rolled down my cheeks in small amounts before more flowed. I did my best to suppress my sobs, but that was like trying to hold back the whole English Channel with a table for cover. So to the beasts, it probably sounded like I was gasping for air like a drowning human while also screaming for help.
The Felsha stared at me with concern and realisation before it rose from its squatting position and turned to the monster it called an ally. After whispering something more akin to garbling than Russian like my mother had compared it too, the Nvouw sighed and walked off to the side with its big bulky rifle unshouldered and resting in its talons.
“Look, I’m—,” the Felsha squatted again. But this time, he used the blunt edge of his claws to push my head up to meet his. His eyes were glowing with concern as he looked over my reddening and teary face with pity, “I’m sorry about that. I know that they weren’t the most docile when they occupied this land. But don’t worry, we won’t hurt you ever. Am I clear?”
“Y-yes, sir,” I mewled.
I was assessed once more by the concerned Felsha before he nodded and moved out of my way. I broke into a trot, then a speed-walk, and then a wild dash until I reached my destination. I looked back momentarily to see both creatures staring at me before the Felsha snapped its head to its monstrous comrade and conversed with him.
How anyone thought those creatures were friendly was beyond me. Call any of the Confederation species docile and I’d agree, except the Nvouw.
I quickly jumped into Mr Achter’s shop through the push door, stumbling around before regaining my footing. The store was as old as Mr Achter himself, being made in the 1870s. The shelves were wooden and antique. The products, however, were new and fresh.
“Woah, Ms Visser,” the old Mr Achter gasped at my haggard and eccentric demeanour. “What snake bit you?”
Mr Achter was an old man, in his seventies and was bald on the top with hair on his sides. He wore round professor’s glasses and always wore a pale blue-checkered jacket with a red tie and white undershirt. He always had a pipe in his mouth and yet his teeth were somehow always bright white and as clean as the rest of his shop.
“N-nothing, Mr Achter,” I wheezed. “Just the usual sticks of Rotterdam butter for Mama please.”
“M-hmmm,” he scanned me suspiciously. “Was it something to do with the soldiers?”
He was good. I never understood how he did it anyway. He did raise three sons, but two of them died in World War I and the other died of malaria in the Congo on a trip. I guess his fatherly instincts kicked in once he saw my trance.
“Y-yes,” I replied hoarsely.
“Did they do anything to you?”
“N-no,” I shook my head. “It’s just . . . one of them was a Nvouw and—”
“Oh!” Mr Achter exclaimed, slapping his palm to his forehead in realisation. “Oh, don’t worry. I understand, yes. They scare me too.”
Mr Achter brought out about three bars of butter, the usual amount I ordered, and I pulled out the guilders to pay him. Except, I was three guilders short.
“W-what?” I tensed up in shock. “I-I had all of them . . . How . . . ?”
Then it clicked. I must’ve dropped it in my hurried escape from the soldiers. Now I was short on cash and couldn’t even purchase the ingredient I had encountered a Nvouw for. My body burned hot with rage until it just boiled over and I slumped my shoulders in exhaustion and misery.
“Don’t worry,” Mr Acther smiled sombrely. “You can take it anyway. I’ll take what you have.”
“T-thanks, Mr Achter,” I sniffled. This day was nothing but hell for me.
Mr Acther looked at me with concern before puffing a smoke cloud from his pipe and leaning back into his seat at the cashier desk, “Occupation is a weird thing.” He hummed.
This was how he started a lecture, with an unconfirmed claim. He’d state his claim as more a question and have me try and fill in the gaps. To be honest, I thought it was patronising. But then again, it worked wonders. He always got his point across in the most clear ways possible.
“In what way?” I replied with a small grin.
“You have one power conquer the land of the other. And then, they decide to keep that land until the end of the war or even after. Sounds normal right?”
“Right,” I replied with a nod.
“But, sometimes the occupying power wants to stay. When they do, it’s usually either for strategic reasons . . . or for something else.”
“What?” I pestered impatiently.
“Guess,” Mr Achter coaxed.
“To make it a part of their nation?”
“Good!” Mr Achter jumped before putting his hand to his chin in fake thinking. “What should they do to accomplish that?”
“Just make it formal in a treaty,” I shrugged nonchalantly.
“Well . . . yes,” Mr Achter replied with a bit of lost energy. “But once something small is a part of another bigger thing that is much more different to it. What do you think that smaller something would do?”
“Assimilate?”
“Yes!” Mr Achter congratulated me with a rejuvenated spirit. “But what happens when you move to a new culture where another one is?”
“You force it out,” I replied in realisation.
“But if the people don’t want to?” Mr Achter pushed.
“You force them too.”
“By?”
“Intimidation,” I replied blankly, finally understanding the concept.
“Excellent,” Mr Achter snapped his fingers in delight at my response before handing me the butter to stuff into my rucksack. “That’s what we never want. They will try and intimidate us into listening. But never fold. We are Dutch through and through. Nothing will change that.”
“Thank you, Mr Achter,” I smiled politely as he waved me off.
“Alright, go on. Your mother’s cookies can’t bake themselves.”
I stopped walking in an instant. I never told him she was making her afternoon cookies, “How do you know they’re cookies?” I turned to him in shock.
“You really think I can’t tell my own butter in her cookies?” Mr Achter cackled. “Don’t be a fool. I know something’s mine when it’s good. I give the good-tasting ingredients and your mom turns them into even better-tasting food. Now run off before I ask for a discount.”
I laughed and dashed out of the store with a happy energy that was stolen from me earlier. I didn’t have to fear the Nvouw, not anyone! I was human and Dutch. Nothing could ever change that!
Running up the road again, I slowed down around the corner and peeked out. No one was there, so I turned and ran up the rest of the way to Mama’s café. Bashing through the spruce door into the kitchen like a tank as I put the rucksack down on the floor and took the butter out.
Mama’s head snapped my way in surprise before it warmed up to a smile, “Be careful!” she hissed playfully. “You almost made me burn the pies!”
“Sorry,” I hummed, handing her the butter.
I probably would’ve stayed to help, but a knock at our house door drew me away from the kitchen. Our house was behind the shop and so there were two doors that were used. The main door for all the customers, and the backdoor for me and Mama.
Only the mailman or milkman used the backdoor to deliver items. Except the milkman doesn’t come until tomorrow and the newsboy comes in the morning as well as the mailman. So whoever was at the door was clearly someone random.
I reached the door and turned the knob, the door creaked open and I looked outside to see a boy. Upon seeing him, a sudden odour forced me back a bit in shock.
The boy was thin and looked frail, even though he also seemed just as old as me. His face was pallid and sickly and his clothes were tattered and torn, like he had just swam across the Atlantic from America. His hair was unkempt and overgrown like an abandoned garden.
To my disgust, he was also barefoot and his legs looked bruised and cut. His arms were exposed by the ripped shirt except for a hastily bandaged part of his lower left arm. His eyes were a murky blue and his lips were cut and as dirt-covered as the rest of his face.
“What’s your name?” I asked the boy. Looking him over with contempt at his haggard apparel.
“B-brutus,” he replied hoarsely, tugging at his torn shirt.
“Really?” I scoffed. “That is not your name.”
“J-Johann. . .” he mumbled.
“Johann what?” I pestered him with impatience, tapping my foot in anger.
“I don’t know,” he replied in broken Dutch, rubbing his bandaged arm anxiously. “I-I forgot.”
“Forgot?” I hissed before giving a hearty sigh. “Alright, Johann, that first name doesn’t even sound Dutch. Where are you from?”
“U-uh . . . G-germany.”
How unspecific! Might as well have just told me ‘Earth’. Why was he so meek and secretive? Maybe he was a challenged boy. How did his parents let him wander like this? Also, his accent was so Eastern European that I could smell the borscht. Metaphorically of course, he smelled more like cow manure than a bowl of borscht. There is no way he thought he was really fooling me.
“Right . . .” I trailed off with suspicion of the boy’s intent. “Where are your parents?”
He seemed to tense up at the simple question. I was now concerned for this boy, but I also didn’t want to trust him at all. He was dirty, spoke Dutch poorly, was secretive, and probably addicted to something that would bring us trouble.
“G-gone,” he stuttered. “I-I lost Mama a while back. Then I was sent away.”
“From where?” I huffed.
“I-I don’t know . . . Some place that began with an A.”
“An ‘a’?” I raised a brow at the boy. I really didn’t like him, but then again. He was cold and hungry. The least I could do was give him some basic necessities before I sent him off to be someone else's problem.
“Who’s at the door, Isa?” Mama called from the kitchen. She then peeked out and her eyes fixed on the boy. “Who’s that?”
“Brutus,” I sighed, looking at him with disgust.
“Where are your parents?” Mama hollered to the boy over the sizzling pots and pans.
“He said they were gone,” I replied to the boy. When I looked back at him, his mouth was literally watering. I backed away a tad bit in disgust as the boy’s eyes fixed back on me.
“S-sorry . . . I just haven’t eaten for a bit and . . . your mom’s cooking is what brought me here really,” the boy mumbled in embarrassment. Since he seemed to deserve something to eat to make up for his crappy appearance, I decided to turn back to a concerned Mama
“Mama!” I called out.
“Yes!?” she called back, now seeing the boy in all of his dirty glory.
“The boy is hungry. Can we give him some food before we let him go?” I asked.
“Sure,” she replied, her face puckered up at the sight of the boy. I couldn’t blame her for that really. “On second thought . . . he needs a shower . . . and a new set of clothes first. Isa, take him up to my room and have him wait there. I’ll finish the batches here.”
I really didn’t want to be in the same room as this smelly boy, but I didn’t have many other options. Besides, I kind of felt bad for his situation, even if his personal specifics and identity were just a load of poorly made lies.
“C’mon,” I sighed. “Let’s go.”
The boy’s eyes lit up as I led him up the winding steps to the second floor. I skipped my room and pushed open the spruce door to Mama’s as the boy walked in and sat on the ground.
“Nice house,” he hummed to my concern. I was now pretty sure this kid wanted to steal from us.
“Y-yes . . . it is,” I replied slowly, squinting at the dirty boy with contempt at his appearance and his ulterior motive for being here.
Unless I wanted to contract a disease, I wasn’t going anywhere near him. This kid was more of a biological disaster than an actual living being. I found myself subconsciously drifting away from the putrid kid, but since I didn’t trust him alone, there I remained. It was a long while of miserable waiting before anyone spoke again.
“Your m-mom is g-good at c-cooking,” the boy complimented sheepishly from his sedentary pose on the wood floor.
“Yeah, her café is popular for a reason,” I sighed, pinching my nose in disgust at the lingering smell.
“My mom owned a flower shop,” the boy reminisced as I just sneered at him. “It was a beautiful one, the best in all of Wa–” The boy stopped as if he had just said too much.
“What?” I pestered with a bit of jumpiness at the information that he had mistakenly donated.
“Westphalia,” he corrected in a choppy manner as if he had just pulled the name from his rear.
“Uh-huh,” I scoffed. “What next? She fed you schnitzels and swastikas every day?”
“I’m not a Nazi,” he grumbled at me with some pent-up anger. “Those are the worst people to ever walk this earth.”
“A bit odd from a German,” I hummed, tiling my head in a sarcastic show of curiosity. “I expected you all to be the same. Unless if you weren’t a German.”
“I am German,” the boy replied adamantly.
“So you are a Nazi?”
“No!” he shouted. “I am German.”
“A Na-zi!” I mocked.
“Przeklęty!” he retorted before shutting up and clasping his mouth with wide-open eyes.
“See,” I giggled. “Not German.”
“Part-German,” he grumbled with his head down.
“Changing your story again?” I hissed, stamping the floor. “Just tell me the truth.”
“It is the truth.”
“That isn’t the truth, Mr ‘Johann’!”
“Well, my name is just as Germanic as yours,” he hissed. “That’s because . . . What’s your name?” the boy bleated.
“Hitler,” I sighed with a little smirk. If he was going to play around with his identity, then who cared if I did? “Do you believe me?”
“No,” the boy replied with a hiss.
“Then why should I? You are no ‘Johann’ because I can hear and taste the pierogi and borscht in your accent. Don’t think you’ll fool me with some German-sounding name.”
The boy opened his mouth to respond, but it was hushed when Mama came upstairs in her food-stained apron as her eyes fixed on the boy more clearly. Now she could see his haggard state in the sunlight from the window, like some sort of bad impression of an angel.
“Oh, God,” she practically mouthed as she stared at “Johann”. He pretty much looked at her with the most fear I’d seen yet. That’s one thing I could trust about him, his fear was raw.
Mama said nothing, simply walking into her room past the boy and opening one of her wardrobe’s drawers where she pulled out some of my old clothes. Due to the boy’s skinny frame, he’d fit in that old farm wear like a glove.
“Isa, leave for now. I’ll fix him up,” Mama ordered with a serious face before giving a little smile. “Unless you want to shower him with me?”
“What!? Ew!” I kicked, finally stumbling out of the room far enough to not smell the boy. Mama simply laughed and the boy tensed up in embarrassment. That was the last I saw of the two before Mama shut the door.
To be honest, this day just kept on getting weirder and weirder. First, I nearly soiled myself in front of a Nvouw. Second, I was three guilders short when I went to buy butter. Finally, some odd kid who couldn’t seem to lie properly and who smelled like he just crawled out of a garbage pit appeared at our door for no good reason other than he smelled Mama’s cooking! The Nvouw encounter was scary, but that kid was just weird.
But I didn’t let that bother me, I was now free to play in the little fields behind our house. Those fields were wild and led to forests. We lived on the outskirts of Utrecht anyway, rarely going downtown. That stuff was only for expensive shopping, not day-to-day errands.
Running out the same back door that the dirty kid had used, I dashed into the field of tall grass. Eventually, I found a little wild tulip, swaying in the wind.
It was beautiful. The symbol of our people. The red pedals bounced around in the wind freely, taking hit after hit from the soft blows of nature. I got down on my belly in front of it and watched it for a bit as it swayed and bounced, swayed and bounced. Inhaling a whiff of it, I smiled and rolled onto my back facing the skies.
They were blue and open, not tainted by low white clouds or the occasional spacecraft, the only thing puncturing the darkening blue sky were some high strips of clouds way up in the atmosphere.
The Netherlands was my home, and these sights are why Mr Achter’s lecture was so useful.
My job wasn’t to just be proud of my little Holland, it was to defend and preserve her beauty.
And I would do anything to keep my serene life here as free as possible.
submitted by No-Dragonfruit-6102 to HFY [link] [comments]
Utrecht, Confederation Administrative Military Peacekeeping Zone Doorta (Former Kingdom of the Netherlands)
May 8, 1945
---------------------------------------------------------------------
Isa Visser
Holland. The land of tulips.
The land under eternal occupation.
My home.
When the Nazis came in 1940, my home town of Utrecht was turned upside down. The war was quick and I hardly even remembered it until the Wehrmacht began to strut freely in our town. At first, we did our best to ignore the grey troops in the streets. But eventually, the Jews of our town began to disappear without a trace.
I didn’t really think much of it, the rumours were horrendous but unfounded. I knew the Nazis preached something about anti-Semetism, but I never really thought anything of malice was happening to the Jews. Besides, the Germans were mean and pushy to all of us, shoving us along like prisoners or attacking us without reason.
Some collaborated with them, but most despised them. However, true anger arose once food began to fade from the shelves. Rationing was in full effect and Mama had to come up with new thinner recipes just for us to get by.
By the time 1943 rolled around, just when we thought that things couldn’t get worse, the Confederation came.
At first, it was some Allied and some Axis aircraft getting blown out of the sky by seemingly nothing. Then some astronomers kept on saying that there were a billion asteroids in the sky. Their estimates put many of them at the size of the Vatican! The world didn’t mind this developing situation as the Nazis tried everything they could to knock both Red Russia and the United Kingdom from the war.
Eventually, they landed, and the world was not prepared in the slightest for their arrival. They didn’t shell any of our cities, even though they could’ve turned all of them to dust in a flash. Not even that American ‘atom bomb’ project could’ve saved us, even if it was somehow made in time for their arrival.
Their troops swiftly subdued the superpowers in under a month. The Soviet Red Army, the American US Army, the British Royal Army, and the previously feared German Wehrmacht were no match for the very advanced and very coordinated men and machines of the Confederation. Sure, our tanks gave them a good scare just as much as the Russian rocket artillery, whistling bombs, and wailing Stukas, but those alone weren’t war-winning weapons.
The world surrendered in Versailles and the post-war world was negotiated in the places that the Allied Powers wanted to negotiate with each other. Yalta, Tehran, Cairo, and the Germans offered Magdeburg and Potsdam too for negotiations.
As it turned out, the Confederation didn’t want us dead or enslaved. Instead, they just wanted to occupy us and help us forward from our brutal wars. I couldn’t really blame them, but then again, their soldiers were the fearsome bullet-proof beasts that could, and had, brutally mutilated and even devoured human soldiers resisting.
Even with those setbacks, the total number of deaths in the Verrassingsoorlog only reached an impressive and scary 1 million. Never surpassing that compared to the nearly 50-60 million corpse pile the world was already stuck in.
Now, the Netherlands as a nation was disbanded. We were still Dutch through and through, and all humans still used the old borders to define land and places. But according to the dozen species entente that conquered us, we were now a hundred occupation zones with the ruling of each zone being distributed to what species got there and captured it first.
The Netherlands, as well as the rest of the Benelux, Northwestern Germany, Denmark, and Calais, were now a part of the ‘Doorta’ zone. Doorta. What a dumb name! The Nvouw in charge named it after the flowers and plant life of the region which made them nostalgic for their homes. There were some rumours that they’d give us our old names back, but that was just hope at this point.
“Isa! Can you quickly run down to Mr Achter’s store to get some butter? I need it for the cookies!”
“Ja, mam!” I called back, setting down the basket of eggs I was carrying. Mama was restocking her depleted goods from the morning rush. Now, she was making new foods for the afternoon rush. It was a very tight schedule that she somehow perfected with robotic efficiency and a warm smile that was the complement of every serving. Now that people had stable homes and jobs once more, they could now enjoy the wonders of life, like Mama’s cooking.
The Confederation weren’t really all that bad once the gunfire ceased. They stayed true to their word. They fixed our country’s buildings and roads, they brought peace and stability in a way, and on a personal note, they gave me a chance to learn Mama’s cooking with some real ingredients rather than some Fanta crap or vegetable peels.
But their soldiers patrolled our streets like hawks. The aliens seemed to best us in everything, hearing, strength, agility, speed, marksmanship, and overall better traits like fangs, venom, appendages, snouts, tails, frills, thorns, and many other animal-like characteristics. But the soldiers were nice and most of the time, didn’t care about us and just let me and my friends play tag. Goodness, some of Felshans even taught some of the boys war tactics while they played war games last week!
I quickly grabbed my late father’s old bulky satchel and patted my bunned-up hair as I walked back into the kitchen to see Mama zooming from baking pies to sizzling batters like a robot. Her eyes then fixed on me as her smile crested her white face, she quickly gave me a tight hug and handed me some guilders for my little expedition.
The Dutch guilder was worthless according to the aliens, who wanted us using their standardised tolija instead. Of course, no one cared and each nation still used their reichsmark, pound, ruble, peso, dollar, guilder, franc, or whatever they had before the first war even began.
I tightly hugged her back and kissed her cheek as she reciprocated the deed. Mama was the best mother one could have. She was loving, good at cooking, good at knitting, and calm and quiet. She would never shout unless I burned down a farm or something.
“Mmm!” I hummed smelling the apple pie from the oven. The warm and delicious apple smell mixed with the doughy batter simply created a scent that one could only find in heaven.
“Ask him for the butter from Rotterdam, the ones from Amsterdam don’t mix well with the cookie stuff like the chips, lemons, sugar, or—”
“I get it, Mama!” I punctuated her typical verbose lecture, shoving the guilders into my pocket. “Rotterdam butter.”
“Zeer goed,” she smiled. “Now off you go!”
Dashing out of the kitchen to the main café, I waved in greeting to some of the people already there. Most of them were either young people doing work, or old people playing chess. These were things you could do anywhere else, but the reason why they were here, was for the food and drinks.
“Where are you going, Isa?” the old Mr Maes asked me, looking up from his little thick novel. He was Flemish and was a veteran of the Great War. He served in the Somme, and Passchendaele, but mostly served in Belgium and Calais. The only answer he gave to me on why he was fighting in France proper was: “I was there to beat the Germans back on every front and every town from the Channel to Switzerland.”
“To get some butter from the store. That’s all,” I replied with a warm grin. I then slipped out of the store onto the lively streets as I dashed down the cobble roads towards Mr Achter’s place. Utrecht was still as bustling as it was before the war. I was born in 1934, so I knew the city well enough before the war to get around quickly.
Mr Achter’s store was down the street and left around the corner shop and then it was down a little incline at the end of the next street as a corner store of its own. I quickly zoomed across the road to the other sidewalk before I ran towards the corner of the street.
I didn’t think or register anything as I weaved through some people and snapped around the corner only to come into a collision trajectory with two shadows that blocked the sun. I couldn’t stop myself in time before a little gust of wind slapped me and now suddenly, the sun was hitting my face again.
Now, instead of ramming into huge shadows, I was on a collision course with a street pole. I braced for the surge of pain, but that also changed until I was frozen upright in under a second.
Reorienting from the random situation, I dizzily readjusted my focus only to now face-to-face with a Nvouw and a Felsha that eyed me up with composure. My blood ran cold, especially with the Nvouw present.
“Be more careful next time, ok?” the Felsha advised as my eyes fixed on him. They were scaled lizards that were as blue as the deep sea. They had snouts with at least 100 fangs just packed into there in such a scarily neat fashion. Their eyes were glowing aqua and they had little prongs and “D” shaped animal ears. Not to mention the bajillion thorns that were dawned on their backs like a cape of bee’s stingers.
Add that with the fact that they were a good two-and-a-half metres tall, and you got the perfect killing machine. But, regardless of their traits, they were probably the nicest of the two occupational species here. Which was a pretty low bar to pass anyway due to the evil of the other demon that I had also stupidly bumped into.
The Felsha soldier in front of me tilted his head and wagged his humongous tail in patience for a response from me. That’s another thing, their spiky tails were at least as long as Mama if she was horizontal. As if these things weren't deadly enough on their own.
“Y-yes,” I replied, a bit scared. “I-I’m sorry.”
“Aw, don’t worry,” the Nvouw replied for the Felsha as I snapped my head to meet him. “You’re just a kid, aren’t you? What are you out for?”
The Nvouw were the ones who occupied the Benelux first, arriving in their skyships randomly. I didn’t even know they were in the Benelux until they began to shepherd the surrendering Germans through the streets after they captured Utrecht. Some of them were covered with human blood. I didn’t know why until they spoke with each other, and then I could see blood covering their large main quadruple fangs and their smaller fangs too.
They ate the German soldiers.
Now, I didn’t like the Nazis, they were mean and tyrannical. But, they were still humans. Sometimes, they’d give me chocolate, sometimes they’d help me around, and sometimes they were understanding when I wanted to go out past curfew to buy some goods from the always-open Mr Achter. They were humans and they were merciful. But never, never, did I want to kill them. And never, never, never, never did I ever even think of wanting to eat them.
And yet, the Nvouw had done it and even enjoyed it. They mowed through many German squads before the garrison here even knew it. By that point, it was too late and they surrendered to the Nvouw, who could just zip up to them and tear them apart in a second if they wanted.
As a result, it was the Nvouw that I feared the most. They weren’t the reason for anything bad in my life, but the first impression I got of them was one of them being merciless brutes and man-eaters. My fear of them is probably why my mouth was zipped shut and I looked down to the ground in terror, resisting the urge to whimper.
My face was hot like the sun above and my hands fidgeted behind me as I simply puckered my mouth and faced the floor. I didn’t want to be in such a predicament. Maybe if I went slower, I wouldn’t be here. But now here I was, and I wanted to disappear in a snap so I could escape these soldiers.
“What are you out for?” the Nvouw repeated to no avail as I did my best to resist crying. My body went into a million different scenarios of how this would end. It could gut me here! If I tried to run, it’d just do it quicker.
“Citizen, I will not repeat myself,” the Nvouw asked once more with agitation. It seems that this beast had a chip on his shoulder for insubordination. But then again, maybe it was just me as I began to hyperventilate, more tears pushing against my eyes and probably making them bulge.
Not even the strongest dike could hold the deluge ready.
When the Nvouw came, Mama hid me in the house. Every time we left the café she brought me with her. I couldn’t be alone. She always kept my head pressed against her and she hugged me until we reached wherever we wanted to go. She did all the talking when the Nvouw would stop us for ID or just to converse. I never wanted to be face-to-face with one, and even worse, I wasn’t ready.
“Answer me,” the Nvouw asked again with its tentacles fluttering in annoyance.
Their tentacles obstructed their fangs and powerful teeth. But, if they just pulled up their tentacles, you could see every gut-cutting fang in their mouth. I didn’t reply and this only seemed to agitate the Nvouw as it hissed with its fangs. Those pristine white teeth were the ones that cut through the Germans like paper. Those were the incarnates of suffering themselves. Those damned fangs.
With that, I couldn’t help myself as a little sob escaped me and tears rolled down my cheeks in small amounts before more flowed. I did my best to suppress my sobs, but that was like trying to hold back the whole English Channel with a table for cover. So to the beasts, it probably sounded like I was gasping for air like a drowning human while also screaming for help.
The Felsha stared at me with concern and realisation before it rose from its squatting position and turned to the monster it called an ally. After whispering something more akin to garbling than Russian like my mother had compared it too, the Nvouw sighed and walked off to the side with its big bulky rifle unshouldered and resting in its talons.
“Look, I’m—,” the Felsha squatted again. But this time, he used the blunt edge of his claws to push my head up to meet his. His eyes were glowing with concern as he looked over my reddening and teary face with pity, “I’m sorry about that. I know that they weren’t the most docile when they occupied this land. But don’t worry, we won’t hurt you ever. Am I clear?”
“Y-yes, sir,” I mewled.
I was assessed once more by the concerned Felsha before he nodded and moved out of my way. I broke into a trot, then a speed-walk, and then a wild dash until I reached my destination. I looked back momentarily to see both creatures staring at me before the Felsha snapped its head to its monstrous comrade and conversed with him.
How anyone thought those creatures were friendly was beyond me. Call any of the Confederation species docile and I’d agree, except the Nvouw.
I quickly jumped into Mr Achter’s shop through the push door, stumbling around before regaining my footing. The store was as old as Mr Achter himself, being made in the 1870s. The shelves were wooden and antique. The products, however, were new and fresh.
“Woah, Ms Visser,” the old Mr Achter gasped at my haggard and eccentric demeanour. “What snake bit you?”
Mr Achter was an old man, in his seventies and was bald on the top with hair on his sides. He wore round professor’s glasses and always wore a pale blue-checkered jacket with a red tie and white undershirt. He always had a pipe in his mouth and yet his teeth were somehow always bright white and as clean as the rest of his shop.
“N-nothing, Mr Achter,” I wheezed. “Just the usual sticks of Rotterdam butter for Mama please.”
“M-hmmm,” he scanned me suspiciously. “Was it something to do with the soldiers?”
He was good. I never understood how he did it anyway. He did raise three sons, but two of them died in World War I and the other died of malaria in the Congo on a trip. I guess his fatherly instincts kicked in once he saw my trance.
“Y-yes,” I replied hoarsely.
“Did they do anything to you?”
“N-no,” I shook my head. “It’s just . . . one of them was a Nvouw and—”
“Oh!” Mr Achter exclaimed, slapping his palm to his forehead in realisation. “Oh, don’t worry. I understand, yes. They scare me too.”
Mr Achter brought out about three bars of butter, the usual amount I ordered, and I pulled out the guilders to pay him. Except, I was three guilders short.
“W-what?” I tensed up in shock. “I-I had all of them . . . How . . . ?”
Then it clicked. I must’ve dropped it in my hurried escape from the soldiers. Now I was short on cash and couldn’t even purchase the ingredient I had encountered a Nvouw for. My body burned hot with rage until it just boiled over and I slumped my shoulders in exhaustion and misery.
“Don’t worry,” Mr Acther smiled sombrely. “You can take it anyway. I’ll take what you have.”
“T-thanks, Mr Achter,” I sniffled. This day was nothing but hell for me.
Mr Acther looked at me with concern before puffing a smoke cloud from his pipe and leaning back into his seat at the cashier desk, “Occupation is a weird thing.” He hummed.
This was how he started a lecture, with an unconfirmed claim. He’d state his claim as more a question and have me try and fill in the gaps. To be honest, I thought it was patronising. But then again, it worked wonders. He always got his point across in the most clear ways possible.
“In what way?” I replied with a small grin.
“You have one power conquer the land of the other. And then, they decide to keep that land until the end of the war or even after. Sounds normal right?”
“Right,” I replied with a nod.
“But, sometimes the occupying power wants to stay. When they do, it’s usually either for strategic reasons . . . or for something else.”
“What?” I pestered impatiently.
“Guess,” Mr Achter coaxed.
“To make it a part of their nation?”
“Good!” Mr Achter jumped before putting his hand to his chin in fake thinking. “What should they do to accomplish that?”
“Just make it formal in a treaty,” I shrugged nonchalantly.
“Well . . . yes,” Mr Achter replied with a bit of lost energy. “But once something small is a part of another bigger thing that is much more different to it. What do you think that smaller something would do?”
“Assimilate?”
“Yes!” Mr Achter congratulated me with a rejuvenated spirit. “But what happens when you move to a new culture where another one is?”
“You force it out,” I replied in realisation.
“But if the people don’t want to?” Mr Achter pushed.
“You force them too.”
“By?”
“Intimidation,” I replied blankly, finally understanding the concept.
“Excellent,” Mr Achter snapped his fingers in delight at my response before handing me the butter to stuff into my rucksack. “That’s what we never want. They will try and intimidate us into listening. But never fold. We are Dutch through and through. Nothing will change that.”
“Thank you, Mr Achter,” I smiled politely as he waved me off.
“Alright, go on. Your mother’s cookies can’t bake themselves.”
I stopped walking in an instant. I never told him she was making her afternoon cookies, “How do you know they’re cookies?” I turned to him in shock.
“You really think I can’t tell my own butter in her cookies?” Mr Achter cackled. “Don’t be a fool. I know something’s mine when it’s good. I give the good-tasting ingredients and your mom turns them into even better-tasting food. Now run off before I ask for a discount.”
I laughed and dashed out of the store with a happy energy that was stolen from me earlier. I didn’t have to fear the Nvouw, not anyone! I was human and Dutch. Nothing could ever change that!
Running up the road again, I slowed down around the corner and peeked out. No one was there, so I turned and ran up the rest of the way to Mama’s café. Bashing through the spruce door into the kitchen like a tank as I put the rucksack down on the floor and took the butter out.
Mama’s head snapped my way in surprise before it warmed up to a smile, “Be careful!” she hissed playfully. “You almost made me burn the pies!”
“Sorry,” I hummed, handing her the butter.
I probably would’ve stayed to help, but a knock at our house door drew me away from the kitchen. Our house was behind the shop and so there were two doors that were used. The main door for all the customers, and the backdoor for me and Mama.
Only the mailman or milkman used the backdoor to deliver items. Except the milkman doesn’t come until tomorrow and the newsboy comes in the morning as well as the mailman. So whoever was at the door was clearly someone random.
I reached the door and turned the knob, the door creaked open and I looked outside to see a boy. Upon seeing him, a sudden odour forced me back a bit in shock.
The boy was thin and looked frail, even though he also seemed just as old as me. His face was pallid and sickly and his clothes were tattered and torn, like he had just swam across the Atlantic from America. His hair was unkempt and overgrown like an abandoned garden.
To my disgust, he was also barefoot and his legs looked bruised and cut. His arms were exposed by the ripped shirt except for a hastily bandaged part of his lower left arm. His eyes were a murky blue and his lips were cut and as dirt-covered as the rest of his face.
“What’s your name?” I asked the boy. Looking him over with contempt at his haggard apparel.
“B-brutus,” he replied hoarsely, tugging at his torn shirt.
“Really?” I scoffed. “That is not your name.”
“J-Johann. . .” he mumbled.
“Johann what?” I pestered him with impatience, tapping my foot in anger.
“I don’t know,” he replied in broken Dutch, rubbing his bandaged arm anxiously. “I-I forgot.”
“Forgot?” I hissed before giving a hearty sigh. “Alright, Johann, that first name doesn’t even sound Dutch. Where are you from?”
“U-uh . . . G-germany.”
How unspecific! Might as well have just told me ‘Earth’. Why was he so meek and secretive? Maybe he was a challenged boy. How did his parents let him wander like this? Also, his accent was so Eastern European that I could smell the borscht. Metaphorically of course, he smelled more like cow manure than a bowl of borscht. There is no way he thought he was really fooling me.
“Right . . .” I trailed off with suspicion of the boy’s intent. “Where are your parents?”
He seemed to tense up at the simple question. I was now concerned for this boy, but I also didn’t want to trust him at all. He was dirty, spoke Dutch poorly, was secretive, and probably addicted to something that would bring us trouble.
“G-gone,” he stuttered. “I-I lost Mama a while back. Then I was sent away.”
“From where?” I huffed.
“I-I don’t know . . . Some place that began with an A.”
“An ‘a’?” I raised a brow at the boy. I really didn’t like him, but then again. He was cold and hungry. The least I could do was give him some basic necessities before I sent him off to be someone else's problem.
“Who’s at the door, Isa?” Mama called from the kitchen. She then peeked out and her eyes fixed on the boy. “Who’s that?”
“Brutus,” I sighed, looking at him with disgust.
“Where are your parents?” Mama hollered to the boy over the sizzling pots and pans.
“He said they were gone,” I replied to the boy. When I looked back at him, his mouth was literally watering. I backed away a tad bit in disgust as the boy’s eyes fixed back on me.
“S-sorry . . . I just haven’t eaten for a bit and . . . your mom’s cooking is what brought me here really,” the boy mumbled in embarrassment. Since he seemed to deserve something to eat to make up for his crappy appearance, I decided to turn back to a concerned Mama
“Mama!” I called out.
“Yes!?” she called back, now seeing the boy in all of his dirty glory.
“The boy is hungry. Can we give him some food before we let him go?” I asked.
“Sure,” she replied, her face puckered up at the sight of the boy. I couldn’t blame her for that really. “On second thought . . . he needs a shower . . . and a new set of clothes first. Isa, take him up to my room and have him wait there. I’ll finish the batches here.”
I really didn’t want to be in the same room as this smelly boy, but I didn’t have many other options. Besides, I kind of felt bad for his situation, even if his personal specifics and identity were just a load of poorly made lies.
“C’mon,” I sighed. “Let’s go.”
The boy’s eyes lit up as I led him up the winding steps to the second floor. I skipped my room and pushed open the spruce door to Mama’s as the boy walked in and sat on the ground.
“Nice house,” he hummed to my concern. I was now pretty sure this kid wanted to steal from us.
“Y-yes . . . it is,” I replied slowly, squinting at the dirty boy with contempt at his appearance and his ulterior motive for being here.
Unless I wanted to contract a disease, I wasn’t going anywhere near him. This kid was more of a biological disaster than an actual living being. I found myself subconsciously drifting away from the putrid kid, but since I didn’t trust him alone, there I remained. It was a long while of miserable waiting before anyone spoke again.
“Your m-mom is g-good at c-cooking,” the boy complimented sheepishly from his sedentary pose on the wood floor.
“Yeah, her café is popular for a reason,” I sighed, pinching my nose in disgust at the lingering smell.
“My mom owned a flower shop,” the boy reminisced as I just sneered at him. “It was a beautiful one, the best in all of Wa–” The boy stopped as if he had just said too much.
“What?” I pestered with a bit of jumpiness at the information that he had mistakenly donated.
“Westphalia,” he corrected in a choppy manner as if he had just pulled the name from his rear.
“Uh-huh,” I scoffed. “What next? She fed you schnitzels and swastikas every day?”
“I’m not a Nazi,” he grumbled at me with some pent-up anger. “Those are the worst people to ever walk this earth.”
“A bit odd from a German,” I hummed, tiling my head in a sarcastic show of curiosity. “I expected you all to be the same. Unless if you weren’t a German.”
“I am German,” the boy replied adamantly.
“So you are a Nazi?”
“No!” he shouted. “I am German.”
“A Na-zi!” I mocked.
“Przeklęty!” he retorted before shutting up and clasping his mouth with wide-open eyes.
“See,” I giggled. “Not German.”
“Part-German,” he grumbled with his head down.
“Changing your story again?” I hissed, stamping the floor. “Just tell me the truth.”
“It is the truth.”
“That isn’t the truth, Mr ‘Johann’!”
“Well, my name is just as Germanic as yours,” he hissed. “That’s because . . . What’s your name?” the boy bleated.
“Hitler,” I sighed with a little smirk. If he was going to play around with his identity, then who cared if I did? “Do you believe me?”
“No,” the boy replied with a hiss.
“Then why should I? You are no ‘Johann’ because I can hear and taste the pierogi and borscht in your accent. Don’t think you’ll fool me with some German-sounding name.”
The boy opened his mouth to respond, but it was hushed when Mama came upstairs in her food-stained apron as her eyes fixed on the boy more clearly. Now she could see his haggard state in the sunlight from the window, like some sort of bad impression of an angel.
“Oh, God,” she practically mouthed as she stared at “Johann”. He pretty much looked at her with the most fear I’d seen yet. That’s one thing I could trust about him, his fear was raw.
Mama said nothing, simply walking into her room past the boy and opening one of her wardrobe’s drawers where she pulled out some of my old clothes. Due to the boy’s skinny frame, he’d fit in that old farm wear like a glove.
“Isa, leave for now. I’ll fix him up,” Mama ordered with a serious face before giving a little smile. “Unless you want to shower him with me?”
“What!? Ew!” I kicked, finally stumbling out of the room far enough to not smell the boy. Mama simply laughed and the boy tensed up in embarrassment. That was the last I saw of the two before Mama shut the door.
To be honest, this day just kept on getting weirder and weirder. First, I nearly soiled myself in front of a Nvouw. Second, I was three guilders short when I went to buy butter. Finally, some odd kid who couldn’t seem to lie properly and who smelled like he just crawled out of a garbage pit appeared at our door for no good reason other than he smelled Mama’s cooking! The Nvouw encounter was scary, but that kid was just weird.
But I didn’t let that bother me, I was now free to play in the little fields behind our house. Those fields were wild and led to forests. We lived on the outskirts of Utrecht anyway, rarely going downtown. That stuff was only for expensive shopping, not day-to-day errands.
Running out the same back door that the dirty kid had used, I dashed into the field of tall grass. Eventually, I found a little wild tulip, swaying in the wind.
It was beautiful. The symbol of our people. The red pedals bounced around in the wind freely, taking hit after hit from the soft blows of nature. I got down on my belly in front of it and watched it for a bit as it swayed and bounced, swayed and bounced. Inhaling a whiff of it, I smiled and rolled onto my back facing the skies.
They were blue and open, not tainted by low white clouds or the occasional spacecraft, the only thing puncturing the darkening blue sky were some high strips of clouds way up in the atmosphere.
The Netherlands was my home, and these sights are why Mr Achter’s lecture was so useful.
My job wasn’t to just be proud of my little Holland, it was to defend and preserve her beauty.
And I would do anything to keep my serene life here as free as possible.
2024.05.09 01:13 cgstories The Devil's Bow and Strings (Ch. 8 Final)
First Chapter Previous Chapter
Mrs. Vilonte stood alone in the bathroom. In her hands, she cradled the urn containing her husband's ashes. The weight of it was surprisingly light, almost inconsequential, like the flutter of a moth's wing against her palm.
There was a tinge of sadness that grazed her heart. She had spent years by his side, experiencing the highs and lows of marriage. And now he was dead. The memorial service had been sparsely attended, with only a handful offering their condolences.
One photographer seemed overly eager to capture a shot of the grieving widow shedding a tear. But Mrs. Vilonte despised tears—seeing them, feeling them trickle down her face. The moment she felt her eyes sting and tears threatening to spill, she brushed them away before they had a chance to fall.
Now, the house was quiet. But mixed with that lingering sadness was a sense of relief, a subtle liberation that whispered to her from the shadows. He had betrayed her. His infidelity had cut deep.
She unscrewed the lid of the urn. The ashes inside seemed to shimmer in the faint light. Without hesitation, she emptied the contents into the toilet bowl and pulled the lever, watching as they spiraled downwards, swallowed by the rushing water.
XXXXXX
She once cherished two joys during her drives to Gabrielle's violin lessons. One was soaking in the serene landscape while indulging in her beloved soft jazz on the radio. The other was the comforting presence of her daughter beside her in the front passenger seat.
Now, she glanced at the vacant seat, and a wave of melancholy washed over her. Shaking off the emotion, she turned her attention back to the road, gripping the wheel tighter as she accelerated. After a stretch of driving, she eventually arrived at the mansion.
She had often wondered how the maestro accumulated such immense wealth. However, after meeting his benefactor and experiencing the allure of that wealth herself, she began to understand the price he had paid–the soul.
Was striking a deal with such a malevolent entity truly worth it? This question haunted her thoughts daily, and still, she had no definitive answer. The allure of luxury was intoxicating like the addictive sweetness of sugar. The more she indulged in it, the stronger her craving became, leaving her caught in a cycle of desire and uncertainty.
The mansion was as elegant and grand as she remembered. In the front yard, a splendid water fountain glistened under the sunlight. Surrounding the mansion was a manicured garden bloomed with vibrant colors and lush foliage.
Before stepping out of the car, she pulled a handgun from the glove compartment and carefully concealed it in her purse. Today was the day she planned to confront him, intent on demanding him to undo the unfortunate turn her life had taken.
The front door was unlocked and it swung open effortlessly as she entered. It slammed shut behind her without her even touching it, and there was no wind to explain it.
“Ah, Mrs. Vilonte,” a familiar male voice greeted warmly, “It's been far too long since our last meeting. You look lovely as ever!”
She looked up to see the young Salerno, leaning casually against the railing at the top of the split staircase. His smirking face drew a scowl from her. She resented his mocking compliment about her looking “lovely as ever.” She wore the same black dress she'd worn since her husband's memorial, now creased from sleep and carrying a faint scent of dried scotch.
“You've had your fun, Salerno,” she retorted, her voice tinged with restrained anger. "I shouldn't have broken our agreement, and I've learned my lesson.”
“Have you?”
“Yes, and I assure you, it won't happen again.”
“So, what can I do for you?”
“I want my life back.”
Salerno's face was solemn, shrouded in silence. Unexpectedly, he erupted into mocking laughter.
“That's not the nature of consequences, my dear,” he remarked. “You must live with what you've done. Forgiveness is not in my nature.
“You've stripped me of my wealth–”
“It wasn't yours to begin with.”
“I have nothing left!”
“Oh, that isn't completely true. You still have your family.”
“You've torn my family apart! My husband is gone, my son imprisoned and now my daughter, too! You've taken her from me.”
“But soon you'll be reunited.”
“What do you mean?”
He motioned for her to ascend the stairs. “You've arrived just in time to witness something miraculous. Something beautiful!”
Confusion clouded Mrs. Vilonte's face until she heard an agonized moan coming from an upstairs room, followed by a cry she knew all too well.
“Gabrielle,” she gasped.
Salerno nodded. “You're about to be a grandmother to another child.”
The haunting images from the field of mirrors flooded back. The abomination—a monstrous entity—was on the brink of entering their world, and who knew what kind of hell it would bring. Suddenly, a powerful force propelled her towards the stairs, her movements no longer under her control. Before she knew it, she stood face to face with Salerno on the top landing. His grin exposed jagged, menacing teeth, and his eyes were pools of darkness. With talon-like fingers, he grasped her shoulders, their sharp points piercing her skin.
He led her into the master bedroom, where Gabrielle lay in a fitful sleep on a queen-size bed, her movements restless. Her eyes were closed, and sweat had matted her hair to her head. Beside her sat Victoria, whose skin showed signs of decay, and she moved with a robotic, disjointed motion as she wiped the sweat from Gabrielle's face with a cloth. When Victoria moved aside, Mrs. Vilonte shivered, finding herself staring into Victoria's empty, hollow eye sockets.
Salerno leaned in close to her ear, his voice a low whisper as he said, “My children are everywhere, and this newborn will join them, serving me in this world. You should feel honored to be part of something extraordinary, something greater than yourself.”
Slipping free from his hold, she quickly made her way to her daughter's bedside, sweeping aside stray locks from her face. The moment her fingers made contact with her skin, Gabrielle began to calm down.
“Gabby, it's Mom,” she whispered gently, a wave of relief washing over her as her daughter's eyes fluttered open in response.
“Did you enjoy the concert, Mom?” Gabrielle asked, faintly.
“Well, it was an unforgettable performance, that's for sure.”
“Didn’t I do a phenomenal job?”
“Let's talk about it when we get home.”
“Home?”
“Yes, you're coming home with me now.”
“I can't... the baby is going to arrive soon,” Gabrielle gasped, her voice strained with pain. "It hurts too much to move.”
“You’ll have to endure it! We need to get out of here!”
Mrs. Vilonte tossed aside the blanket and firmly grasped her arm, pulling her out of the bed. Gabrielle staggered and lost her footing, sliding down onto the floor. She reached for the edge of the bed, trying to soften her sudden fall.
“Run, run, but wherever you hide,” Salerno sang, “you'll never escape this hell.”
Mrs. Vilonte quickly drew the handgun from her purse, aiming it at him as he approached. Her eyes darted between Salerno and Victoria, the gun wavering between the two.
“Stay back! Just let us go.”
Salerno chuckled. “Mrs. Vilonte, really now? Violence won't solve your problems.”
A deafening bang echoed through the room. He staggered back, pressing a hand to his belly as blood began to seep through his white shirt. His mouth opened, releasing a plume of black smoke that coalesced into the silhouette of a large goat standing upright on its hind legs.
The creature glared at her with red eyes before the smoke dissipated. Then, as if the inevitable march of age had finally caught up to him within seconds, his vitality began to wane. His once smooth skin transformed into a web of wrinkles. His dark eyes dimmed, replaced by a cloudy haze. His jet-black hair turned a shocking shade of white, contrasting starkly with the pallor of his skin. His cheeks began to sink.
Salerno, aged and frail, sank to the floor, his hand stubbornly pressed against his wound as if hoping to halt the flow of blood. “Run, run, but wherever you hide, you'll never escape this hell.”
Mrs. Vilonte seized her daughter's arm, hauling her upright, all the while keeping the gun trained between Salerno and Victoria. Victoria lay collapsed on the floor, reduced to a heap of decomposed skin devoid of bones and muscle.
A deep rumble echoed through the room, causing it to tremble and sway. Cracks snaked across the walls, paint peeling away in tattered sheets. Twisting, blood-red vines crept from the fractures, weaving their way across walls and ceiling. Acting quickly, Mrs. Vilonte seized Gabrielle, who had collapsed to the floor, teeth clenched in pain from another surge of agony. She pulled her up by the arm, forcing her to her feet and pushing her towards the door.
The mansion, once a symbol of pride when she'd taken her daughter for the maestro’s lessons, was transforming into a nightmarish scene. Blood oozed from the decaying walls, while a noxious sulfuric odor filled the air, nearly suffocating Mrs. Vilonte and making each breath a struggle.
She didn't pause for rest or allow Gabrielle a moment to catch her breath until they were safely out of the house and speeding away in the car, putting as much distance as possible between them and the area.
“Mom, stop the car,” Gabrielle groaned in pain from the back seat.
“Hold on tight, honey. We'll go to the nearest hospital.”
“I can't wait anymore!”
“It won't be long. Twenty minutes.”
“I can feel the baby wanting to come out.”
Mrs. Vilonte looked up at the rearview mirror, where she saw Gabrielle's sweaty face scrunched up in pain, gripping her rounded belly with both hands.
“I know this isn’t easy,” she said, “but you need to hold out a little longer. We'll be at the hospital very soon.”
“STOP THE CAR!”
The car came to a sudden stop, jolting Mrs. Vilonte forward and almost throwing Gabrielle off from her seat.
“The baby is coming! Mom, help me!” Gabrielle cried.
“The baby…”
Mrs. Vilonte couldn't shake the thought that this creature couldn't possibly be human. The horrifying acts that it could be capable of frightened her, and the idea that it shared a bloodline with her sickened her even more. Her hand moved to the handgun resting on the passenger seat beside her, considering the one extreme solution she could think of for such an unusual situation.
It wasn't ideal, but she saw no other option.
She took hold of the gun and stepped out of the car, approaching the rear passenger side. Opening the door, she found her daughter propped on her elbows, lifting her dress to reveal the widening canal. Gabrielle let out a menacing growl as she pushed.
Mrs. Vilonte crouched to inspect closer, and instantly felt the unsettling, malevolent presence. The entity seemed to be trying to claw its way out from the depths of the abyss. It inched towards the light, its growls growing louder like a ravenous animal. As Gabrielle pushed further, its red, snouted face broke through, its eyes snapping open to lock onto hers with an intense, black-eyed glare.
Startled, she stumbled back, her hands grasping for the handgun that had slipped from her trembling fingers. As she aimed at the creature before her, an unseen force encircled her hands. She fought to maintain control, but the force twisted the weapon, redirecting it towards her. Suddenly, she found herself staring down the barrel of her gun.
The trees came alive with a flurry of motion as a group of birds took flight, their wings beating frantically against the sky. The once-quiet canopy echoed with the sound of panicked chirps and the movement of feathers, as the startled birds scattered in all directions, seeking refuge from the sudden disturbance caused by a blast.
XXXXX
In the forest of another realm, beyond the physical world, her skin melded seamlessly with the tree's bark, as vines snaked their way around her, ensnaring her limbs. Fungi blossomed from her mouth, rendering her voiceless as her tongue was entwined.
The goat-like creature approached her, brandishing a small mirror, coercing her to confront her distorted reflection. Little remained of her once recognizable features. Worms and roaches had taken residence in the hollow cavity where her nose and right eye had been. With her one remaining eye, she gazed into the mirror, waves of anguish coursing through her being as she beheld the grim reflection of what she had transformed into.
Then, as her ghastly reflection faded, a young man with dark hair and eyes as deep as coal materialized, wearing a black suit, standing with poise on a stage, holding up a violin. Upon closer look, she realized it to be the very violin Gabrielle had once owned.
“Behold what my child has become,” the entity proclaimed. “Are you not as proud of him as I am?”
XXXXX
A bright light beamed down on the young man standing center stage, his violin poised in his hands. His fingers glided over the strings, and with each passing note, the audience, their eyes fixed on him, was drawn deeper into his spell. It wrapped around the listeners' hearts and pulled them into a trance-like state. And as the last notes hung in the air, the audience were suspended in silence and left breathless. Then, they leaped to their feet in thunderous applause.
With a twisted smile, he relished the adulation. He knew he had sway over them, puppet master of their actions. He could simply issue a command, and they would eagerly comply, ready to enact his darkest fantasies. He imagined directing his willing servants to get up on the roof of a towering building and leap into the abyss below, willingly offering themselves as sacrifices.
He envisioned chaos unleashed upon the streets, cars overturned, windows shattered, and buildings engulfed in flames. All at his behest. The world lay at his fingertips, ripe for manipulation and destruction, as he thought about the countless ways he could bring about humanity’s demise.
After his final bow, the young man turned to face the audience, expressing heartfelt thanks for their attendance, eliciting both laughter and warm affection from the crowd. But, amidst the resounding applause, one figure remained still in the front row, confined to a wheelchair. He stared straight at her face which was hidden behind a thin black veil.
Though her body remained motionless in the chair, incapable of even the slightest movement, her one good eye was very much alive, fully engaged with her surroundings. And there was something else in her gaze. He could sense it from the stage, and it made him chuckle. It was an aroma he found intoxicating – the unmistakable stench of fear, seeping from every pore like primal pheromones.
The audience clamored for an encore, yearning to satisfy their insatiable thirst for more music. Their fervent cries echoed through tears. Lifting his violin once more, he hushed the audience with a single motion. The moment the red bow touched the strings, pandemonium broke loose. The spectators lost all self-control, leaping from their seats, clutching their heads, and tearing at their hair in a wild frenzy. They were completely entranced, surrendered to the power of the music.
As his crescendo intensified, a raging fire surged within them, mirrored by the frantic speed of his fingers on the strings. With each chord, they tore at their garments, sinking nails and teeth into one another's flesh. Chaos exploded, mingling with the scent of blood and the sound of rending flesh.
Mrs. Vilonte remained seated in her wheelchair, an impassive observer amidst the chaos, her voice silenced, her limbs still. She bore witness to the madness, her mind ensnared within its chaos, forever lost to its depths.
submitted by cgstories to Horror_stories [link] [comments]
Mrs. Vilonte stood alone in the bathroom. In her hands, she cradled the urn containing her husband's ashes. The weight of it was surprisingly light, almost inconsequential, like the flutter of a moth's wing against her palm.
There was a tinge of sadness that grazed her heart. She had spent years by his side, experiencing the highs and lows of marriage. And now he was dead. The memorial service had been sparsely attended, with only a handful offering their condolences.
One photographer seemed overly eager to capture a shot of the grieving widow shedding a tear. But Mrs. Vilonte despised tears—seeing them, feeling them trickle down her face. The moment she felt her eyes sting and tears threatening to spill, she brushed them away before they had a chance to fall.
Now, the house was quiet. But mixed with that lingering sadness was a sense of relief, a subtle liberation that whispered to her from the shadows. He had betrayed her. His infidelity had cut deep.
She unscrewed the lid of the urn. The ashes inside seemed to shimmer in the faint light. Without hesitation, she emptied the contents into the toilet bowl and pulled the lever, watching as they spiraled downwards, swallowed by the rushing water.
XXXXXX
She once cherished two joys during her drives to Gabrielle's violin lessons. One was soaking in the serene landscape while indulging in her beloved soft jazz on the radio. The other was the comforting presence of her daughter beside her in the front passenger seat.
Now, she glanced at the vacant seat, and a wave of melancholy washed over her. Shaking off the emotion, she turned her attention back to the road, gripping the wheel tighter as she accelerated. After a stretch of driving, she eventually arrived at the mansion.
She had often wondered how the maestro accumulated such immense wealth. However, after meeting his benefactor and experiencing the allure of that wealth herself, she began to understand the price he had paid–the soul.
Was striking a deal with such a malevolent entity truly worth it? This question haunted her thoughts daily, and still, she had no definitive answer. The allure of luxury was intoxicating like the addictive sweetness of sugar. The more she indulged in it, the stronger her craving became, leaving her caught in a cycle of desire and uncertainty.
The mansion was as elegant and grand as she remembered. In the front yard, a splendid water fountain glistened under the sunlight. Surrounding the mansion was a manicured garden bloomed with vibrant colors and lush foliage.
Before stepping out of the car, she pulled a handgun from the glove compartment and carefully concealed it in her purse. Today was the day she planned to confront him, intent on demanding him to undo the unfortunate turn her life had taken.
The front door was unlocked and it swung open effortlessly as she entered. It slammed shut behind her without her even touching it, and there was no wind to explain it.
“Ah, Mrs. Vilonte,” a familiar male voice greeted warmly, “It's been far too long since our last meeting. You look lovely as ever!”
She looked up to see the young Salerno, leaning casually against the railing at the top of the split staircase. His smirking face drew a scowl from her. She resented his mocking compliment about her looking “lovely as ever.” She wore the same black dress she'd worn since her husband's memorial, now creased from sleep and carrying a faint scent of dried scotch.
“You've had your fun, Salerno,” she retorted, her voice tinged with restrained anger. "I shouldn't have broken our agreement, and I've learned my lesson.”
“Have you?”
“Yes, and I assure you, it won't happen again.”
“So, what can I do for you?”
“I want my life back.”
Salerno's face was solemn, shrouded in silence. Unexpectedly, he erupted into mocking laughter.
“That's not the nature of consequences, my dear,” he remarked. “You must live with what you've done. Forgiveness is not in my nature.
“You've stripped me of my wealth–”
“It wasn't yours to begin with.”
“I have nothing left!”
“Oh, that isn't completely true. You still have your family.”
“You've torn my family apart! My husband is gone, my son imprisoned and now my daughter, too! You've taken her from me.”
“But soon you'll be reunited.”
“What do you mean?”
He motioned for her to ascend the stairs. “You've arrived just in time to witness something miraculous. Something beautiful!”
Confusion clouded Mrs. Vilonte's face until she heard an agonized moan coming from an upstairs room, followed by a cry she knew all too well.
“Gabrielle,” she gasped.
Salerno nodded. “You're about to be a grandmother to another child.”
The haunting images from the field of mirrors flooded back. The abomination—a monstrous entity—was on the brink of entering their world, and who knew what kind of hell it would bring. Suddenly, a powerful force propelled her towards the stairs, her movements no longer under her control. Before she knew it, she stood face to face with Salerno on the top landing. His grin exposed jagged, menacing teeth, and his eyes were pools of darkness. With talon-like fingers, he grasped her shoulders, their sharp points piercing her skin.
He led her into the master bedroom, where Gabrielle lay in a fitful sleep on a queen-size bed, her movements restless. Her eyes were closed, and sweat had matted her hair to her head. Beside her sat Victoria, whose skin showed signs of decay, and she moved with a robotic, disjointed motion as she wiped the sweat from Gabrielle's face with a cloth. When Victoria moved aside, Mrs. Vilonte shivered, finding herself staring into Victoria's empty, hollow eye sockets.
Salerno leaned in close to her ear, his voice a low whisper as he said, “My children are everywhere, and this newborn will join them, serving me in this world. You should feel honored to be part of something extraordinary, something greater than yourself.”
Slipping free from his hold, she quickly made her way to her daughter's bedside, sweeping aside stray locks from her face. The moment her fingers made contact with her skin, Gabrielle began to calm down.
“Gabby, it's Mom,” she whispered gently, a wave of relief washing over her as her daughter's eyes fluttered open in response.
“Did you enjoy the concert, Mom?” Gabrielle asked, faintly.
“Well, it was an unforgettable performance, that's for sure.”
“Didn’t I do a phenomenal job?”
“Let's talk about it when we get home.”
“Home?”
“Yes, you're coming home with me now.”
“I can't... the baby is going to arrive soon,” Gabrielle gasped, her voice strained with pain. "It hurts too much to move.”
“You’ll have to endure it! We need to get out of here!”
Mrs. Vilonte tossed aside the blanket and firmly grasped her arm, pulling her out of the bed. Gabrielle staggered and lost her footing, sliding down onto the floor. She reached for the edge of the bed, trying to soften her sudden fall.
“Run, run, but wherever you hide,” Salerno sang, “you'll never escape this hell.”
Mrs. Vilonte quickly drew the handgun from her purse, aiming it at him as he approached. Her eyes darted between Salerno and Victoria, the gun wavering between the two.
“Stay back! Just let us go.”
Salerno chuckled. “Mrs. Vilonte, really now? Violence won't solve your problems.”
A deafening bang echoed through the room. He staggered back, pressing a hand to his belly as blood began to seep through his white shirt. His mouth opened, releasing a plume of black smoke that coalesced into the silhouette of a large goat standing upright on its hind legs.
The creature glared at her with red eyes before the smoke dissipated. Then, as if the inevitable march of age had finally caught up to him within seconds, his vitality began to wane. His once smooth skin transformed into a web of wrinkles. His dark eyes dimmed, replaced by a cloudy haze. His jet-black hair turned a shocking shade of white, contrasting starkly with the pallor of his skin. His cheeks began to sink.
Salerno, aged and frail, sank to the floor, his hand stubbornly pressed against his wound as if hoping to halt the flow of blood. “Run, run, but wherever you hide, you'll never escape this hell.”
Mrs. Vilonte seized her daughter's arm, hauling her upright, all the while keeping the gun trained between Salerno and Victoria. Victoria lay collapsed on the floor, reduced to a heap of decomposed skin devoid of bones and muscle.
A deep rumble echoed through the room, causing it to tremble and sway. Cracks snaked across the walls, paint peeling away in tattered sheets. Twisting, blood-red vines crept from the fractures, weaving their way across walls and ceiling. Acting quickly, Mrs. Vilonte seized Gabrielle, who had collapsed to the floor, teeth clenched in pain from another surge of agony. She pulled her up by the arm, forcing her to her feet and pushing her towards the door.
The mansion, once a symbol of pride when she'd taken her daughter for the maestro’s lessons, was transforming into a nightmarish scene. Blood oozed from the decaying walls, while a noxious sulfuric odor filled the air, nearly suffocating Mrs. Vilonte and making each breath a struggle.
She didn't pause for rest or allow Gabrielle a moment to catch her breath until they were safely out of the house and speeding away in the car, putting as much distance as possible between them and the area.
“Mom, stop the car,” Gabrielle groaned in pain from the back seat.
“Hold on tight, honey. We'll go to the nearest hospital.”
“I can't wait anymore!”
“It won't be long. Twenty minutes.”
“I can feel the baby wanting to come out.”
Mrs. Vilonte looked up at the rearview mirror, where she saw Gabrielle's sweaty face scrunched up in pain, gripping her rounded belly with both hands.
“I know this isn’t easy,” she said, “but you need to hold out a little longer. We'll be at the hospital very soon.”
“STOP THE CAR!”
The car came to a sudden stop, jolting Mrs. Vilonte forward and almost throwing Gabrielle off from her seat.
“The baby is coming! Mom, help me!” Gabrielle cried.
“The baby…”
Mrs. Vilonte couldn't shake the thought that this creature couldn't possibly be human. The horrifying acts that it could be capable of frightened her, and the idea that it shared a bloodline with her sickened her even more. Her hand moved to the handgun resting on the passenger seat beside her, considering the one extreme solution she could think of for such an unusual situation.
It wasn't ideal, but she saw no other option.
She took hold of the gun and stepped out of the car, approaching the rear passenger side. Opening the door, she found her daughter propped on her elbows, lifting her dress to reveal the widening canal. Gabrielle let out a menacing growl as she pushed.
Mrs. Vilonte crouched to inspect closer, and instantly felt the unsettling, malevolent presence. The entity seemed to be trying to claw its way out from the depths of the abyss. It inched towards the light, its growls growing louder like a ravenous animal. As Gabrielle pushed further, its red, snouted face broke through, its eyes snapping open to lock onto hers with an intense, black-eyed glare.
Startled, she stumbled back, her hands grasping for the handgun that had slipped from her trembling fingers. As she aimed at the creature before her, an unseen force encircled her hands. She fought to maintain control, but the force twisted the weapon, redirecting it towards her. Suddenly, she found herself staring down the barrel of her gun.
The trees came alive with a flurry of motion as a group of birds took flight, their wings beating frantically against the sky. The once-quiet canopy echoed with the sound of panicked chirps and the movement of feathers, as the startled birds scattered in all directions, seeking refuge from the sudden disturbance caused by a blast.
XXXXX
In the forest of another realm, beyond the physical world, her skin melded seamlessly with the tree's bark, as vines snaked their way around her, ensnaring her limbs. Fungi blossomed from her mouth, rendering her voiceless as her tongue was entwined.
The goat-like creature approached her, brandishing a small mirror, coercing her to confront her distorted reflection. Little remained of her once recognizable features. Worms and roaches had taken residence in the hollow cavity where her nose and right eye had been. With her one remaining eye, she gazed into the mirror, waves of anguish coursing through her being as she beheld the grim reflection of what she had transformed into.
Then, as her ghastly reflection faded, a young man with dark hair and eyes as deep as coal materialized, wearing a black suit, standing with poise on a stage, holding up a violin. Upon closer look, she realized it to be the very violin Gabrielle had once owned.
“Behold what my child has become,” the entity proclaimed. “Are you not as proud of him as I am?”
XXXXX
A bright light beamed down on the young man standing center stage, his violin poised in his hands. His fingers glided over the strings, and with each passing note, the audience, their eyes fixed on him, was drawn deeper into his spell. It wrapped around the listeners' hearts and pulled them into a trance-like state. And as the last notes hung in the air, the audience were suspended in silence and left breathless. Then, they leaped to their feet in thunderous applause.
With a twisted smile, he relished the adulation. He knew he had sway over them, puppet master of their actions. He could simply issue a command, and they would eagerly comply, ready to enact his darkest fantasies. He imagined directing his willing servants to get up on the roof of a towering building and leap into the abyss below, willingly offering themselves as sacrifices.
He envisioned chaos unleashed upon the streets, cars overturned, windows shattered, and buildings engulfed in flames. All at his behest. The world lay at his fingertips, ripe for manipulation and destruction, as he thought about the countless ways he could bring about humanity’s demise.
After his final bow, the young man turned to face the audience, expressing heartfelt thanks for their attendance, eliciting both laughter and warm affection from the crowd. But, amidst the resounding applause, one figure remained still in the front row, confined to a wheelchair. He stared straight at her face which was hidden behind a thin black veil.
Though her body remained motionless in the chair, incapable of even the slightest movement, her one good eye was very much alive, fully engaged with her surroundings. And there was something else in her gaze. He could sense it from the stage, and it made him chuckle. It was an aroma he found intoxicating – the unmistakable stench of fear, seeping from every pore like primal pheromones.
The audience clamored for an encore, yearning to satisfy their insatiable thirst for more music. Their fervent cries echoed through tears. Lifting his violin once more, he hushed the audience with a single motion. The moment the red bow touched the strings, pandemonium broke loose. The spectators lost all self-control, leaping from their seats, clutching their heads, and tearing at their hair in a wild frenzy. They were completely entranced, surrendered to the power of the music.
As his crescendo intensified, a raging fire surged within them, mirrored by the frantic speed of his fingers on the strings. With each chord, they tore at their garments, sinking nails and teeth into one another's flesh. Chaos exploded, mingling with the scent of blood and the sound of rending flesh.
Mrs. Vilonte remained seated in her wheelchair, an impassive observer amidst the chaos, her voice silenced, her limbs still. She bore witness to the madness, her mind ensnared within its chaos, forever lost to its depths.
2024.05.08 09:07 SkyAnimal Timeline of Human Evolution.
Earth's orbit experiences an “Orbital Eccentricity”, 100,000 year cycle orbit and inclination variation, going from circular to elliptical, the hemispheres experience more or less sun or exposure to the sun for extended periods, causing ice ages. Scientists estimate we are near the minimum, a 6% change in solar energy. At peak, the earth experiences a change of 30%.
Modern Day Primates, in the wild and captivity, are able to communicate, near and far, using verbal and gesture components, even to other species. Have been observed using wood as tools, and in using medicinal plants to treat wounds.
44 million y a - Hominid ancestors acquire Herpes virus.
10 million y a - Primate ancestors develop genes to digest alcohol.
6 million years ago - Primate ancestors split from Chimpanzee/Bonobo line (15 million DNA mutations have occurred since then; each person born today has 100 mutations distinct to them, most don’t survive.)
5.3 m y a - Mediterranean Sea experiences the Messinian Salinity Crisis, for 600,000 years the Straight of Gibraltar closed off, causing the Mediterranean to shrink down to two inland seas with Italy and Greece separating them. Ends in the Zanclean Flood, a river of Atlantic sea water flows thru Gibraltar and fills the Mediterranean in 2 years.
5 m y a - Arabian-African continent reconnects with Asia. Land based Turtle species start going extinct.
4 - 3 m y a - Hominid ancestors acquire pubic lice from Gorillas (genetic evidence).
3.6 - 2.58 m y a - Considered the Neogene Period.
3.3 m y a - Stone tools found in Kenya and Ethiopia.
2.6 m y a - Mode One Stone Tools found in Ethiopia, would subsequently spread. Flourished to 1.7 million y a in southern and eastern Africa. Paleolithic (Old Stone Age) Era (2.6 m y a till end of last Ice Age, 11,000 y a). Subdivided into the Early- or Lower Paleolithic (c. 2,6 million years ago - c. 250,000 years ago); the Middle Paleolithic (c. 250,000 years ago - c. 30,000 years ago); and the Late- or Upper Paleolithic (c. 50,000/40,000 - c. 10,000 years ago)
2.58 million - 11,700 years ago - Considered the start of the Quaternary Period, and covers the Pleistocene.
2.4 – 1.4 m y a – Homo Habilis (4.5-3.5 feet tall).
2 m years ago - Earliest Hominids start eating meat.
1.9 – 1.8 m y a – Homo Rudolfensis.
1.89 m y a to 110,000 y a - Homo Erectus (first to leave Africa and spread across Asia).
1.8 m years ago - Mode One Stone Tools found on Java.
1.7 m years ago - Mode Two Stone Tools (slicing, hand-axe/butchering, evidence of drilling tools) appear in Kenya and southern Africa.
1.6 m years ago - Mode One Stone Tools found in northern China.
1.6 - 1.5 m y a - Africa, Turkana Boy dies, likely from a tooth cavity infection. He was either 8 or 11-12 years old and 61 inches tall. Brain 880 ccm.
1.5 m y a - Kenya, possible start of Hominids using fire to cook food. (increase in caloric intake, which would lead to evolution; however, Paranthropus Boisei is the local species, brain 500-550 ccm, 54 inches tall)
1 million years ago - Likely split between ancestor of Homo Sapiens and proto-Neanderthal-Denisovan species. (Mitochondrial DNA evidence.) South Africa, evidence of fire use for cooking.
1 m - 700,000 y a - Java, Java Man dies, brain 900 ccm. 5' 8" tall.
900,000 y a – Possible earliest use of boats.
820,000 - 580,000 y a - Durum Wheat develops out of natural hybridization with Einkorn Wheat (genetic analysis).
800,000? y a - Low world temperatures recorded. Height of Ice Age?
790,000 y a - Levant, oldest Fire hearths found. (Homo Heidelbergensis, 1,250 ccm brain, 69 in tall)
740,000? y a - Height of Ice Age?
7-200,000 y a – Homo Heidelbergensis (East Africa and Europe, likely first to hunt large animals with spears)
640,000? y a - Height of Ice Age.
550,000? y a - Height of Ice Age?
540,000 - 430,000 y a - Art: Sea shell formed into decoration by Homo Erectus. (Could indicate when sea shells began to be used as whistles and horns.)
530,000? y a - Interglacial Peak (between Ice Ages, high CO2 content in the atmosphere, 524-474,000).
500,000 y a - South Africa, evidence of Spears. Genetic evidence of Neanderthal spread from Europe to Caspian Sea, Denisovans occupied land from Caspian to the east.
450,000 y a - Earliest physical evidence of Neanderthal.
450,000 y a - Global temperatures had dropped, stayed that way for thousands of years.
430,000 - 230,000 y a - Durum Wheat cross-breeds with wild Goat Grass (genetic analysis).
400,000 y a - Interglacial Peak (between Ice Ages, 424-374,000).
400,000 y a - Germany, oldest Spears found. France (Terra Amata), possible evidence of manmade shelter using prepared wood.
360,000? y a - Height of Ice Age.
335-236,000 y a – Homo Naledi (South Africa, 4’9”)
310,000 y a - Interglacial Peak (between Ice Ages, 337-300,000).
300,000 y a – Mode Three Stone Tools (smaller knife-like, scrapers, developed in Europe by Neanderthals)
300,000-200,000 y a – Africa, Origin of Male Y-Chromosome that all current males are descended from. (40% of males do not reproduce.)
270,000? y a - Height of Ice Age.
240,000 y a - Interglacial Peak (between Ice Ages, 242–230,000).
200,000 y a - France, evidence of Neanderthals fishing. Africa, "Mitochondrial Eve," source of all Human Haplo-groups that everyone is descended from, existed at this time.
194,000-135,000 y a - Penultimate Glacial Period.
190,000 y a - Early physical evidence of Denisovans. (At least three interbreeding events would occur with Homo Sapiens. EPAS1 gene, hemoglobin concentration, Tibetan plateau.)
190,000-50,000 y a - Flores Island, evidence of tool use by the Human Hobbit.
170,000 - 80,000 y a - Body Lice evolve (genetic evidence, feed on human skin, live in clothing; evidence of clothing)
164,000 y a – South Africa, heat treating Silcrete Stone to enhance stone tool production.
140,000 y a - Homo Sapiens found in Europe.
130,000 y a - Evidence of humans in North America. Crete, earliest human settlements found on the island. Art: Neanderthal necklace made of eagle talons. Croatia: Neanderthal teeth show possible dental work.
125,000 y a - Interglacial Peak (between Ice Ages, 130-115,000). Sea levels 4-6 meters (18 feet) higher then today.
110,000-15,000 y a - Last Glacial Period. Grey Wolves would migrate from North America back to Asia prior to the maximum.
100,000-60,000 y a - Flores Island, bone fossil evidence of the Human Hobbit.
100,000 y a - Oldest example of proper human burial. South Africa, Pigment (paint) Creation Kit found. (would cover bodies in mud/clay and then spray the paint over the bodies, sun screen-protection from insects)
90,000 y a – Harpoons.
86,000-37,000 y a – Neanderthal and Homo Sapiens begin interbreeding, based on genetic evidence found so far.
75,000 years ago - Likely rise of Hunter Genotype in Homo Sapiens.
75,000 y a - Art: Drilled snail shells found in South African cave.
73,000 y a - South Africa (Blombos Cave), evidence of Red Ochre art on pieces of stone, stone with deliberate lines cut into it possibly representing count marks.
72,000 y a - South Africa, Beads found in cave.
70,000 y a - Mitochondrial DNA suggests this is when the Haplo-group of early humans migrated out of Africa to populate the rest of the world.
70-60,000 y a - Earliest evidence of bone and stone arrowheads (for Spear Throwers), found in South Africa. 64,000?
70,000 - 35,000 BCE - Neanderthal burials in Europe and Middle East.
68-16,000 y a – Smallpox evolves from an African Rodent Virus.
67,000 BCE - France, burial shows skulls with Trepanation (cutting holes to relieve brain pressure), earliest example of surgery.
65,000 y a - First humans settle Australia.
64,000 y a - Spain, oldest evidence found of Cave Art (Neanderthal hand).
61,000 y a - South Africa, possible evidence of a Sewing Needle.
60,000? y a - Height of Ice Age?
60,000 y a - Evidence of man/Neanderthal using herbal medicine.
55,000 - 40,000 y a - Italy, evidence of Neanderthal using Pine Tree Resin and Beeswax for hafting tools, in cave. (Beeswax can be used in making Candles.)
52,000 y a - Last evidence of Denisovans.
52,000 – 41,000 y a – Archaeological find of “Bast” tree fiber twisted into primitive cordage, possibly as handle for a Stone Tool. (meaning they had access to Clothing, Nets, Cord for Fishing or Hafting tools, rope; thinking processes of Counting, Sets, Patterns, and possibly abstract thinking)
50,000 - 10,000 y a - Mode Four Stone Tools (long blades).
50,000 y a - Australia, last evidence of megafauna. Siberia, needle made from bone found in Denisovan cave. Genetic evidence of Neanderthal spreading to western edge of China.
50,000 years ago - End point of development of Gatherer Genotype (can survive famine), Teacher Genotype (can handle new and different environments, analytical).
45,000 y a - Evidence of Neanderthal and Homo Sapien interbreeding. (Fossil found, DNA tested.) (France, to create stone tools required precision, “Soft Hammers” were likely used.)
44,000 y a - Evidence of art found in Indonesia.
44,000-40,000 y a - Europe experiences cold and dry weather, displacing populations.
43-42,000 y a - Germany, oldest musical instruments (flutes) found.
42,000 y a - Australia, skeleton of man suggests Atlatl use, pre-dating earliest evidence; earliest example of cremation found. Spain, small amounts of Natural Gold found in a cave.
40,000 y a - (Mankind is at the “Forager” level.) Last evidence of Neanderthal. (Inheritance of "STAT2" gene, immune response. HYAL2 gene, helps skin recover from sunburns.) China, test on body found that ate a lot of fresh water fish. Possible example of oldest petroglyphs. Beads found in Lebanon.
40,000 - 26,000 y a - Studying toe bones, showed they became smaller and weaker, indicating shoes were worn. Prior to this, shoes were likely bags wrapped around feet to protect from cold.
38,000 BC - First appearance of Mode Five Ground Stone tools on Japan. (rock was quarried; thin slivers of flint stone, attached to hafts, man is learning the use of a "handle" for tools and "leverage", create Adzes, Celts, and Axes; grinding helps to penetrate trees and was likely discovered when grinding plant matter; found buried with owners; were traded) Lasted till 14,000 BC. (Would not become popular elsewhere until 10,000 BC?) Germany: Clay Figurine featuring human with lion like appearance, thought to be earliest representation of a Deity.
35,000 BCE - Europe, earliest examples of "Venus figurines" found buried in graves (some showing they were deliberately broken or stabbed repeatedly); would later spread to rest of Eurasia. Early examples of skulls and long bones showing red ochre, indicating possible relic worship.
35,000 y a - Germany, flute made from a vulture bone found.
30,000 BCE – Solomon Islands, first humans settle (60 km sea voyage).
31,000 - 27,000 y a - Evidence of Pit Fire (Earthernware) Pottery developing.
30,000-20,000 years ago - Explorer genotype (Ice Age refugees, idiosyncratic, asymmetrical, contrarian mentality)
30,000 y a - Evidence of starch residue on rocks, indicating where plant matter was pounded and ground. (Would likely be the pre-cursor of developing bread from roots of cattails and ferns. Quern Grinding Stones would spread and gain popularity.) Georgia, Flax used as a textile (harvested, dyed, and knotted) found in Dzudzuana Cave. Fertile Crescent, Einkorn wheat harvested in it's wild form. Evidence of man using the Atlatl. Poland: Boomerang carved from mammoth tusk found. France, Lunar Calendar. Likely when Bolas (stone weight(s) and length of cord) began to be used.
28,000 y a - Europe, oldest evidence of rope.
25,000 - 15,000 BCE - Blood Type A develops in the Fertile Crescent. (able to survive Plague, Cholera, Smallpox)
27,000 y a - Australia, oldest example of petroglyphs found. Czech Republic, earliest example of "Weaving" of material together to create baskets and basic cloth. (Leads to counting and simple math, organizing.)
26,000-13,300 y a - Considered "Glacial Maximum", ice sheets extend to the 45th parallel north. (26,500 considered to be maximum glacial reach.)
23,000 - 12,000 y a – Europe, Perforated Batons found, made of antler, assumed to be a form of Atlatl that uses a leather strap or string to wrap around the spear and give it a slight spin, arrow or spear thrower (similar to Swiss Arrow). Right and left handed throwers find preference. Most carved with Horses, have one or two holes (one had 8 holes).
23,000 y a - Israel, Ohalo archaeological site, hunter-gatherer society (6 brushwood shelters, 132 stone tools some attached to hafts, stone Sickles, dwellings showed flint tools were made at entrance, cooking at other end, grind stone showed sand and cobbles to place and had U-shape of seeds around it) that grew/harvested Barley, Millet, Bromus (grass in same tax tribe as wheat/barley/rye, can be used for fermenting beverages, can be eaten by humans and animals), Rubus (same family as Rose plants, similar to blackberries), and various fruits (seeds from 13 different species), earliest evidence for “Bedding” material.
22,000 – 17,000 y a – France, Solutrean inhabitants make use of Antler.
21,000-17,000 y a - France, Atlatl's found in caves.
20,000 y a - Height of the Ice Age, sea levels 120 meters (360 feet) lower. Mode Five Stone Tools (microliths glued to handles, Fertile Crescent). Earliest example of a building/house found. Ukraine, Bullroarer (wood on rope that is swung around to create sound over long distance) found. Iraq-Iran, Zarzian Culture, had domesticated Dogs.
19,050? - 13,050 y a - Oldest Dryas Period, stadial, abrupt cooling period. Sea levels rose 10-15 m in 500 years.
17,000 BCE - Mesopotamia, Wild Emmer Wheat harvested.
18,000 - 17,500 y a - Siberia, earliest example of a domesticated dog found frozen. Germany, Bow and Arrows found. Early evidence of Darts used.
18,000 y a - Japan, oldest pottery discovered.
15,100 - 14,000 y a - Morocco, earliest example of a cemetery.
15,000 y a – Mode Five Stone Tools reach Europe. Southern France, cave art depicting possible Musical Bow, Nose Flute; "The Sorcerer," a figure showing human and many animal qualities (bison), made out of Clay.
15,000 – 10,000 y a – France, Stone Oil Lamps.
14,500 y a - Oldest example of bread making, Jordan desert.
14,160 - 13,820 y a - Archaeological find: infected tooth partially cleaned out with flint tools.
14,600 - 13,600 y a - "Melt Water Pulse," sea levels rose 16-24 m.
14,000? y a - Older Dryas Period, around 200 year cooling period.
13,500 - 8,200 y a - China, wild Rice domestication event occurs.
15-10,000 BCE - Himalayas, development of Blood Type B.
11,050 BCE - Syria, attempts at domesticating Rye.
13,000 y a - Greece, evidence of lentils found. Earliest evidence of Amber used in jewelry. Israel, archaeological evidence of beer like gruel for ceremonial purposes found at Haifa. Likely beginning of Slavery.
13,000 - 12,700 y a - Fertile Crescent, archaeological evidence of man corralling and using pigs.
12,900 - 11,700 y a - The Younger Dryas Period, when temperatures went cold instead of warming from the Last Glacial Maximum.
10,000 BCE - Jericho, considered mankind's first town, is established. Buildings of clay and straw, dead buried under homes. (Would reach 70 dwellings by 94,000 BCE.) Chickpeas domesticated. Earliest evidence of the Bottle Gourd being domesticated and used (Africa and Asia variety). Azerbaijan (Caspian Sea), petroglyphs of reed boats. Starting point of Ocarina type flutes. Cyprus, humans arrive. Germany, Jet artifact (Botfly larvae, which can be eaten). Curved Stone Oil Lamps.
11,700 y a - Considered the beginning of the Holocene.
9600 BCE - Southern Levant, earliest use of wild Emmer Wheat.
11,500 - 11,000 y a - "Melt Water Pulse," sea levels rose 28 m.
11,400 y a - Cypress, archaeological evidence of pigs (indicating they had been domesticated and brought from the mainland).
9400 - 9200 BCE - Jordan Valley, Fig trees found, indicating earliest agriculture since these trees could not reproduce.
9130 - 7370 BCE - SE Turkey, Gobekli Tepe, oldest known worship location.
9000 BCE - Syria, oldest (Saddle) Quern found. Mesopotamia, Copper first used. Bartering of Cattle and agricultural products likely occurring at this time.
9000 - 3300 BCE - Neolithic Era, roughly. Time period of when man has begun herding, before using bronze.
11,000 - 9,000 y a - Mesopotamia, domestication of Sheep; Rammed Earth construction technique developed. Iran, Domestication of Goat (focused on management of the animal, varieties would come later).
11,000-4,000 years ago - Warrior genotype (farmers, soldiers, inventors); Nomad genotype (life upon a horse, can handle different environments, good immune system)
11 or 10,000 y a - Last Ice Age ends.
8800 BCE - Emmer Wheat spreads beyond the Levant.
8700 BCE - Iraq, Copper pendant.
8500 BCE - Domestication of Barley. Domestication of peas occurs around this time. Turkey, Beer production found at Gobekli Tepe. Domestication of Cattle from the Aurochs (two separate populations, one in Mesopotamia [pop. 80], the other Pakistan). (Rendering cattle bones into Tallow allows for the creation of Candles. Beeswax also used.) Oregon, oldest pair of shoes found made from bark twine. Oats possibly start to be harvested, crop mirrors wheat (is like a weed).
8400 BCE – Cyprus, earliest dug Water Well (26 ft).
10,300 - 8,700 y a - China, Millet harvested.
10,200 - 9,500 y a - Emmer Wheat domesticated(?).
10,000 - 7,000 y a - Archaeological evidence of boats.
8000 BCE (10,000 years ago) – Genetic evidence of breeding Pigeons. Palestine, archaeological evidence of pastoralism. Pre-Pottery Neolithic people in the Fertile Crescent form perfectly smooth stone vases. Iran, Goat domestication. Believed to be when primitive dairy-cheese making began. Flax cultivation. China, Quern Grinding Stones. England, Antler used in headdress costume.
9,500 y a - Cyprus, earliest evidence of cat domestication. SE Anatolia, cold-working, annealing, smelting, lost wax casting of Copper.
7570 BCE – Indus Valley, Lapis Lazuli artifacts.
7500 - 5700 BCE - Anatolia, Catal Hoyuk develops as a spiritual center, found many clay figurines and impressions (feminine, phallic, hunting).
7400 BCE - A monolith ends up submerged in the Straight of Sicily.
7176 B.C. – Earth hit by one of the most massive Solar Storms from the sun ever recorded (visible at night with the magnetic field interaction).
7000 BCE - Archaeological evidence for pastoralism in Africa. China: evidence of mead (honey, rice, water fermented) in pottery; evidence of musical instruments. India, first archaeological evidence of Dance (cave art); evidence of dentistry. Armenian Highlands, art depictions of Cymbals. Durum Wheat made thru artificial selection in Europe and Near East. Greece, earliest evidence of grain silos. Turkey, Catal Hoyuk, art depiction of a Slinger. Afghanistan, Lapis Lazuli mined and traded to Indus and Mesopotamia societies. Europe, Cave Wall art of Honey Collecting.
7000 - 6600 BCE - China, domestication of Soy beans.
7000 - 6000 BCE - Turkey, domestication of Bitter Vetch. (Too bitter for human consumption without being boiled several times, has been found to be great for cattle feed.)
6500-3800 BCE - Ubaid Period (Mesopotamian citystates rise, evidence of specialized workers, evidence of taxation)
6500 BCE - Turkey, evidence of lead smelting at Catal Hoyuk. (Wrapping the dead in textiles, too.) China, archaeological evidence of Silk. Kosovo, oldest Ocarina found in Europe.
8,200 - 7,600 y a - Sea levels rise rapidly. Linked to North American great fresh water lake (Agassiz, Ojibway) sudden draining into Atlantic Ocean. 8,400 y a?
6050 BCE - Moldova, evidence of man extracting salt from a natural spring.
8,000 y a - Western Europe, white skin first appears. Iran: earliest evidence of irrigation; man starts choosing sheep for their wooliness, not just meat and skin (2-3,000 years later, would start wearing wool). Georgia, earliest evidence of wine. Spain, cave painting shows people collecting honey from a wild hive, using a container to hold. China, Buckwheat cultivated (near Tibetan plateau), possible first example of Influenza. Earliest evidence of the Ard Plow used (castrating bulls to train 4 years to become Draft Oxen, also means they can be used to haul logs thru and from forests). Mediterranean, Broad (Fava) Beans, Broccoli. Portugal: Almendres Cromlech, begins, aligned to equinox and solstice, occupied for 2,000 years, would become largest complex in Iberian peninsula, equal to other large complexes in Europe. Anatolia: Obsidian polished into mirrors. Spelt Wheat appears. First Stone hafted Axes. Earliest evidence of “Cock Fighting” game fowl. (Iraq, Kiln.)
6000 - 3500 BC - Mesopotamia (Sumer), Poppy domesticated.
7,8-5,000 y a - SE Turkey, Einkorn Wheat grown and domesticated.
5600 BCE - Evidence of The Black Sea Flood, turning the fresh water lake into a salt water sea, rose shorelines and displaced populations (source of flood myths in religions).
7500 y a - Earth experiences a cold climate period? Lasts for 500 or more years.
7500 y a - Earliest example of chickpeas being used. Poland, archaeological evidence of cheese making. Ukraine, Romania, earliest examples of traps used for hunting. Pakistan, evidence of Cotton found in copper beads. Egypt, earliest Combs found (placing a leaf in the teeth can create a primitive sound instrument).
5500-5000 BCE - Serbia, Copper Smelting.
5200 - 4700 BCE - Iran, earliest evidence of a wheel, for pottery, made of stone or clay.
7,000 y a - Earliest example of Dolmen, single chamber tomb, consists of two stones supporting another on top (table design), found in western Europe, would spread and be common 4000 - 3000 BCE in Europe. Iranian plateau, evidence of Bronze made with naturally occurring arsenic. Tin would replace as the major ingredient (and releasing non-toxic vapors) in the late 3000 BCE period. Iran, evidence of wine found, using sealed containers. China, Hemp domestication (smoking was likely cause for spread, Iron Age would use for production); Rammed Earth construction technique, Silkworm domestication begins. Egypt, Badarian culture starts farming, used boomerangs. Roundels, circular enclosure often with entrances aligned to solstice, would be constructed in Central Europe (Germany, 120-150 altogether). Siberia, oldest carpet found (likely a funeral gift, from Armenia, featured griffons). Mesopotamia: first use of Stamp Seals for government purposes; Rotary Quern milling stones are introduced. Armenia: possible origin of Apricots. Lake Zurich, cultivation of Pear. Indus Valley Civilization, using Bitumen aka Asphalt for waterproofing (a basket), adhesive. Bulgaria, Turquoise beads.
6950 - 6440 y a - Papua New Guinea, cultivation of Taro and Yam.
4800 BCE - Egypt, early evidence of peas being grown. Cairn of Barnenez, Brittany, England, begins (burial monument and later bronze age use, considered one of the oldest and largest man made structures).
4700 - 4200 BCE - The town of Solnitstata, considered the oldest known settlement in Europe. Built around a salt deposit.
6,500 y a - Croatia, earliest example of an oven found. Slovenia, dental filling made with beeswax. Indus Valley, irrigation. Wine production reaches Greece. Carnac Stones, Brittany, France; would become large complex of standing stones, menhirs, domens, tumuli (burial mounds, with passage tombs), large rectangle formed by stone. Americas: various tribes domesticated “chili peppers.” Bulgaria, Carnelian beads. Manufactured Red Pottery Oil Lamps.
4500-4000 BCE - China, Investment Casting develops.
4200 - 4000 BCE - Mesopotamia develops true, easy to spin pottery wheels.
6,000 y a - Earth experiences a cold climate period? (Starting maybe 500 years earlier and ending 500 years later.)
4000 BCE - (Mankind has achieved “Farmer status.”) (Thought to be when Cattle were turned into Oxen for Draft Animal purposes.) Egyptians start building big Brick structures; manufacturing Papyrus; Gold artifacts; (domesticated Donkeys?). Earliest examples of Kilns. NE Italy, archaeological find of Appleseeds. Sicily, evidence of wine found. Ukraine, Kazakhstan, Horse domestication begins (they became small and varied in size as compared to their wild ancestors). “Pontic Language Explosion”. [People from north of the Caspian and Black Seas migrated around Eurasia, ancestor of western languages. (shared origins with: milk, horses, sheep, cattle, pigs, goats, grain, copper, carts, yoke, weaving, mead; patrilineal clans)]. Earliest examples of Viticulture (wine making). Levant, earliest examples of harvesting Olives; start using grain Silos. Art: Earliest depiction of Shoes, Sandals. China: example of a Loom for Silk production; Ramie (similar to flax, requires chemical processing, not as popular, believed to be used for Egyptian mummy wraps). Persia (Iran), Mung Bean domestication?, Chang (precursor to Harp) found on artwork, made with sheep guts. Mesopotamia: Stamp Seals come into use; Mirrors made of Copper; 30-40% of animal bones in settlements were pork (understood to be a way of removing trash from community, easy to feed and raise many); Uruk clay tablet describes two temples owning a herd of 95 pigs to be rendered into soap to clean linen; clay pipes for sewage. Europe, farming reaches northern regions. Anatolia, Silver production.
4000 - 1000 BCE - Ethiopia, Teff is discovered (can feed people and livestock, building material).
3800 - 3500 BCE - Czech Republic, possible evidence of earliest plowed fields.
5,700 y a - Lolland Island, a blue eyed, dark haired, dark skin woman spits out some Birch Bark gum; oldest complete human genome extracted; had Mononucleosis ("kissing disease"). Possible archeological evidence of pit traps used for migrating animal hunting.
3630 BCE - Oldest example of silk fabric found.
3600 BCE – Pork bones in settlements (Levant, Mesopotamia) dropped to 16-30% of total livestock.
5,500 - 4,700 y a - Georgia, tomb found had honey remains on pottery. (This culture could identify Linden, Berry, and Meadow-Flower varieties.)
3500 BCE - City of Uruk: (Mesopotamia) begins outward expansion and influence, later first example of organized warfare (would influence Egyptians to start building pyramids); "Cylinder Seals," a type of noble seal, that can be rolled unto wet clay (would be popular until 1000 BCE). Iraq, Kish Tablet, considered to represent the early transition from pictographic to cuneiform. Mesopotamia, earliest Harps and Lyres found; Gold artifacts. Modern humans settle the western coast of Europe, hunter-gatherers. Egyptians show Cat domestication; Gold Smelting; used a vertical Gnomon as a primitive Sundial? Iran, Beer made from Barley. Armenia, earliest Leather Shoe found. China, Pottery in shape of silkworm indicates earliest example of Sericulture (silk worm production).
3500 - 3350 BCE – Mesopotamia, earliest evidence of wheeled vehicles. Indus Valley civilization uses Stamp Seals with a type of script.
3400 BCE (5,400 years ago) - First metal casting. France, Cow skull showing Trepanation found.
5,400 -5,100 y a - Itzi the Iceman dies in the mountains of Northern Italy. Had a copper axe. Earliest evidence of tattoos. Shoes made from two types of animal skin (bear and deer). Arsenic residue in his hair.
3300 BCE - Egypt, tomb paintings show people Dancing. Indus Valley, develop Sanitation.
3200 BCE - Examples of using symbols to represent real life objects (would go to form written language). Ireland, construction begins on Newgrange, largest passage tomb in Europe, aligned to winter solstice. Egypt, Bead made of Meteoric Iron found.
3100 - 2900 BCE - Jemdet Nasr period (following fall of Uruk) would be known as establishing Cuneiform as a proper language.
3100 BCE - Upper and Lower Egypt unified. Mesopotamia, likely evidence of the earliest Lute type device.
3000 BCE - Onset of Bronze. Mesopotamia, Irrigation; Glass Beads appear (possible side effect of making metal); possible earliest Iron working (required higher temperatures), cuneiform mention of Pigeons. Sumer, Medical text found on tablet, believed oldest ever found. Egypt, Hieroglyphs of Pigeons and use of Homing Pigeons for message delivery, first record of a Doctor named, Imhotep; Antimony harvested from rock and made into eye makeup; earliest evidence of domestic Donkeys in the south. Egyptian Mummies show evidence of Smallpox (deathrate 30% especially among babies, can leave people blind). Dromedary Camels likely domesticated in Somalia at this time. (Camel hair can be harvested for shelter and clothing, outer guard hairs make for water proof coats. Camel milk readily turns into yogurt. To turn into butter requires a clarifying agent and extended process.) Chicken reaches Europe from Asia. England, earliest Stone Circles found. Slovakia, Romania, earliest chainmail found. Sheep chosen for wooly coat, not long hair. China, Clay Bells found. India, River Buffalo domesticated (water buffalo); Jute grown for fiber (burlap). Northern Iran, earliest examples of Trumpets. SE Asia, earliest records of Radish. Pakistan, Terracota female figurines.
2800 BCE - Solid evidence of plowed fields. China, Copper smelting discovered. Babylon, evidence of manufacture of soap like substance.
2700 BCE - Chinese treatise on health. 40 kinds identified.
2650 BCE - Egypt, dental work found.
2630-10 BCE - Egypt, Pyramid of Djoser constructed by Imhotep, considered first.
2600 BCE – Egypt, domestication of Honey Bee complete.
2600 - 1900 BCE - Indus Valley, Stoneware Pottery (meaning fired at 1000 degrees Celsius), would become a major industry; (Ivory?).
2580-50 BCE – Egypt, creates first true Ocean Dock for sea trading vessels (with Indus Valley).
2560 BCE - Great Pyramid of Giza completed.
2500 BCE - Evidence of The Amber Road, trade route from the Baltic Sea to Mediterranean Sea. E Iran, Bactrian Camels domesticated. Iraq, "Lyres of Ur," considered world's oldest stringed instruments. Peru, oldest Sling ever found. Egypt, earliest depiction of a Khopesh (sword). Sumerian Clay Tablet with instructions for manufacturing soap (heating mixture of oil and wood ash, earliest record chemical reaction, used for washing woolen clothing). China, axes with Corundum (precious stone). Harappan Culture of Indus Valley, chicken used for Cock Fighting, not food.
2500 - 2000 BCE - Mali, domestication of Pearl Millet. Turkey, Meteoric Iron dagger.
2400 BCE - Sumer, description of Prostitution and a Brothel-Temple to Fertility Goddess.
2300 BCE - Mesopotamia, Urukagina of Lagash, considered the earliest Law Code. (Widows and orphans exempt from taxes, state pays for funeral expenses, the rich must pay in silver and cannot force the poor against will, checked power of priests, protect from usury, abolished polyandry). Iran, Quince (fruit). China, oldest Gnomon (painted stick that casts a shadow for sundial purpose).
2200 BCE - China, first known tax, using salt. Iraq, tablet reads “22 jars of Pig Fat” (each jar 18 liters of Lard, 396 liters total, require 45 adult pigs; likely used to make soap to clean wool of sheep before turning them into textiles)
2200-2000 BCE - Turkey, Iron Smelting.
2100 - 2050 BCE - City of Ur: Earliest written Code of Law discovered. References Butter. (Fines for bodily harm, references murder, robbery, adultery, rape. Two classes of people: free and slave.)
4000 - 3000 y a - Mesopotamia, earliest Scissors (shear, spring type). India, Mung Bean domesticated.
2000 BCE - Murals show horses pulling chariots. Horses become common in western Europe. England, Great Orme Mine started, would become largest copper mine in region (most productive between 1700 - 1400 BCE), used bone and stone tools. China, Bells made out of metal (Bellfounding); domestication of the Swamp Buffalo (water buffalo). Ghana, earliest evidence of Cowpea (black eyed pea). India, Canola/Rapeseed; Diamonds being used to drill beads. Egypt, Lupin Beans. Greece, Kale grown.
1900 BCE – Homing Pigeons used for warfare.
1800 BCE - Egypt, medical text on gynecological issues; Safflower for pigment. India, Iron working.
1754 BCE - Code of Hammurabi (recognized Prostitution and gave women protection and inheritance; theorized that a fertility goddess had a temple that offered sex workers).
1700 - 1200 BCE - (Late Bronze Age) 8 societies in Middle East: Aegean, Egyptian, Hittite, Canaanite, Cypriot, Mitanni, Assyrian, Babylonian. Considered a "globalized world system." Next time this would occur is today.
1700 BCE – Mesopotamia: The "Mari Letters" reference Minoan society, King Hammurabi; clay tablets list Trigonometry Tables and Applied Geometry (for land ownership, speculated to aid in construction).
1628 BCE - Island of Thera/Santorini experiences huge volcanic eruption, possibly causing a tsunami thru eastern Mediterranean.
1600-1500 BCE - Greece, Helmet formed of boar tusks found.
1600 BCE – Levant, Mesopotamia, Pork bones rarely found in settlements (banned from temples in Anatolia, Mesopotamia, Egypt). (Found amongst the poor classes, difficult to tax since it did not produce wool or milk or could plow a field.)
1550 BCE – Papyrus Ebers, Egyptian medical text, mentions Chlamydia.
1500 BCE - Modern Trumpet design found in eastern Mediterranean. India, Pigeon Pea domesticated. Egypt, Mercury found in tombs; archaeologists find earliest Sundials; Emerald mines. China, Water Clocks.
1400 BCE - Syria, Hurrian Songs, cuneiform music tablet in Ugarit. Greece, oldest body armor found, made of bronze, Dendra Panoply (not actually worn, more of a showpiece, but clear representation of body armor for battle). China, Meteoric Iron axeheads. Art representation of Scale Mail in Egypt. Art: representation of Shields.
1350 BCE - Turkey, Hittites chronicle Egyptian prisoners of war bringing "the plague.”
1300 BCE - Uluburun Shipwreck, off coast of Turkey, had 300 sixty pound copper ingots (10 tons), 1 ton of tin, and tin objects and ingots of colored glass (blue, rose, brown). From Cypress/Minoa.
1300? - 900? BCE - Eastern Mediterranean experiences a 300? year drought. (Could also be: Cypress 1200- 850. Syria 1250-1187. Galilee 1250-1100)
1279 BCE - Battle of Qadesh (Egypt vs Hittites).
1200 BCE (3,200 years ago) - Onset of Iron smelting. Earliest Camel saddles appear. Last appearance of Megaliths. India, earliest evidence of Firewalking.
1200 BCE - Eastern Mediterranean civilization collapse. Drought in Greece. Earthquake series.
1188-1177 BCE - Egypt suffers invasions from "The Sea People."
1185 BCE - Syria, Ugarit Letter, Famine.
1140? BCE - Ramses 6th, mummy found to have Smallpox. No record of people dying from Smallpox.
1100 BCE - Phoenicians establish nation. Europe, Iron Age.
1100? BCE - Earth experiences a cold temperature period?
1100-750 BCE - Egypt, Iron Smelting.
1070 BCE - Egyptian mummy found with Silk in hair, earliest evidence of Silk Road.
1000 BCE - Early Cuneiform script (late stages, still pictograph in nature). Bactria, Barbat (primitive lute). Egypt, Kenaf is grown for fibers, leaves can be eaten by animals and humans (similar to Jute and Hemp; rope, rough fabric, sails). Mediterranean, Cabbage domesticated. China, Iron Age. Sport: racing Homing Pigeons.
930 BCE - Camel bones found in Arabian peninsula. Jordan, earliest Bloomery for Iron working found.
800 - 600 BCE - Ethiopia, Sorghum Wheat begins to be harvested.
800 BCE - Considered the beginning of Ancient Greece, after the Mycenae Civilization. China, Bloomeries used.
700-500 BCE - The Illiad orally composed. India, Diamond mining starts.
708 BCE – Greece, Olympics, Discus Throw.
700 BCE - Turkey, first Coins in Lydia. Assyria, first equipment recognized as a Saddle for a Horse.
660 BCE – Massive Solar Storm hits Earth.
600 BCE - Earliest example of a Steel Sword.
600-400 BCE - Ancient Greece rise of scientific inquiry and philosophy
550 BCE - The Illiad written down.
540 BCE – Sri Lanka, earliest record of Pearls.
500 BCE - Camels used in warfare. Persians use kettle drums for military maneuvers, frighten enemies. Greece, Grape Syrup, early form of sweetener and preservative; earliest written mention of what could be Influenza. Blackberries consumed around Europe. Spain, Disk Quern developed. India, Cholera described in Sanskrit. Romans manufacture dipped Candles.
430 BCE – Athens, Typhoid Fever outbreak during siege by Sparta.
400 BCE - The "Celts/Gaeil" settle Ireland. Greece, the “Hippocratic Corpus” seventy collected medical texts, mentions Pneumonia, Meningitis, Valerian Root.
396 BCE - Olympics, horn blowing competitions.
314 BCE - China, first mention of Sweet Orange.
298 BCE - Foot powered Loom.
200 BCE - China starts making paper.
submitted by SkyAnimal to DebateEvolution [link] [comments]
Modern Day Primates, in the wild and captivity, are able to communicate, near and far, using verbal and gesture components, even to other species. Have been observed using wood as tools, and in using medicinal plants to treat wounds.
44 million y a - Hominid ancestors acquire Herpes virus.
10 million y a - Primate ancestors develop genes to digest alcohol.
6 million years ago - Primate ancestors split from Chimpanzee/Bonobo line (15 million DNA mutations have occurred since then; each person born today has 100 mutations distinct to them, most don’t survive.)
5.3 m y a - Mediterranean Sea experiences the Messinian Salinity Crisis, for 600,000 years the Straight of Gibraltar closed off, causing the Mediterranean to shrink down to two inland seas with Italy and Greece separating them. Ends in the Zanclean Flood, a river of Atlantic sea water flows thru Gibraltar and fills the Mediterranean in 2 years.
5 m y a - Arabian-African continent reconnects with Asia. Land based Turtle species start going extinct.
4 - 3 m y a - Hominid ancestors acquire pubic lice from Gorillas (genetic evidence).
3.6 - 2.58 m y a - Considered the Neogene Period.
3.3 m y a - Stone tools found in Kenya and Ethiopia.
2.6 m y a - Mode One Stone Tools found in Ethiopia, would subsequently spread. Flourished to 1.7 million y a in southern and eastern Africa. Paleolithic (Old Stone Age) Era (2.6 m y a till end of last Ice Age, 11,000 y a). Subdivided into the Early- or Lower Paleolithic (c. 2,6 million years ago - c. 250,000 years ago); the Middle Paleolithic (c. 250,000 years ago - c. 30,000 years ago); and the Late- or Upper Paleolithic (c. 50,000/40,000 - c. 10,000 years ago)
2.58 million - 11,700 years ago - Considered the start of the Quaternary Period, and covers the Pleistocene.
2.4 – 1.4 m y a – Homo Habilis (4.5-3.5 feet tall).
2 m years ago - Earliest Hominids start eating meat.
1.9 – 1.8 m y a – Homo Rudolfensis.
1.89 m y a to 110,000 y a - Homo Erectus (first to leave Africa and spread across Asia).
1.8 m years ago - Mode One Stone Tools found on Java.
1.7 m years ago - Mode Two Stone Tools (slicing, hand-axe/butchering, evidence of drilling tools) appear in Kenya and southern Africa.
1.6 m years ago - Mode One Stone Tools found in northern China.
1.6 - 1.5 m y a - Africa, Turkana Boy dies, likely from a tooth cavity infection. He was either 8 or 11-12 years old and 61 inches tall. Brain 880 ccm.
1.5 m y a - Kenya, possible start of Hominids using fire to cook food. (increase in caloric intake, which would lead to evolution; however, Paranthropus Boisei is the local species, brain 500-550 ccm, 54 inches tall)
1 million years ago - Likely split between ancestor of Homo Sapiens and proto-Neanderthal-Denisovan species. (Mitochondrial DNA evidence.) South Africa, evidence of fire use for cooking.
1 m - 700,000 y a - Java, Java Man dies, brain 900 ccm. 5' 8" tall.
900,000 y a – Possible earliest use of boats.
820,000 - 580,000 y a - Durum Wheat develops out of natural hybridization with Einkorn Wheat (genetic analysis).
800,000? y a - Low world temperatures recorded. Height of Ice Age?
790,000 y a - Levant, oldest Fire hearths found. (Homo Heidelbergensis, 1,250 ccm brain, 69 in tall)
740,000? y a - Height of Ice Age?
7-200,000 y a – Homo Heidelbergensis (East Africa and Europe, likely first to hunt large animals with spears)
640,000? y a - Height of Ice Age.
550,000? y a - Height of Ice Age?
540,000 - 430,000 y a - Art: Sea shell formed into decoration by Homo Erectus. (Could indicate when sea shells began to be used as whistles and horns.)
530,000? y a - Interglacial Peak (between Ice Ages, high CO2 content in the atmosphere, 524-474,000).
500,000 y a - South Africa, evidence of Spears. Genetic evidence of Neanderthal spread from Europe to Caspian Sea, Denisovans occupied land from Caspian to the east.
450,000 y a - Earliest physical evidence of Neanderthal.
450,000 y a - Global temperatures had dropped, stayed that way for thousands of years.
430,000 - 230,000 y a - Durum Wheat cross-breeds with wild Goat Grass (genetic analysis).
400,000 y a - Interglacial Peak (between Ice Ages, 424-374,000).
400,000 y a - Germany, oldest Spears found. France (Terra Amata), possible evidence of manmade shelter using prepared wood.
360,000? y a - Height of Ice Age.
335-236,000 y a – Homo Naledi (South Africa, 4’9”)
310,000 y a - Interglacial Peak (between Ice Ages, 337-300,000).
300,000 y a – Mode Three Stone Tools (smaller knife-like, scrapers, developed in Europe by Neanderthals)
300,000-200,000 y a – Africa, Origin of Male Y-Chromosome that all current males are descended from. (40% of males do not reproduce.)
270,000? y a - Height of Ice Age.
240,000 y a - Interglacial Peak (between Ice Ages, 242–230,000).
200,000 y a - France, evidence of Neanderthals fishing. Africa, "Mitochondrial Eve," source of all Human Haplo-groups that everyone is descended from, existed at this time.
194,000-135,000 y a - Penultimate Glacial Period.
190,000 y a - Early physical evidence of Denisovans. (At least three interbreeding events would occur with Homo Sapiens. EPAS1 gene, hemoglobin concentration, Tibetan plateau.)
190,000-50,000 y a - Flores Island, evidence of tool use by the Human Hobbit.
170,000 - 80,000 y a - Body Lice evolve (genetic evidence, feed on human skin, live in clothing; evidence of clothing)
164,000 y a – South Africa, heat treating Silcrete Stone to enhance stone tool production.
140,000 y a - Homo Sapiens found in Europe.
130,000 y a - Evidence of humans in North America. Crete, earliest human settlements found on the island. Art: Neanderthal necklace made of eagle talons. Croatia: Neanderthal teeth show possible dental work.
125,000 y a - Interglacial Peak (between Ice Ages, 130-115,000). Sea levels 4-6 meters (18 feet) higher then today.
110,000-15,000 y a - Last Glacial Period. Grey Wolves would migrate from North America back to Asia prior to the maximum.
100,000-60,000 y a - Flores Island, bone fossil evidence of the Human Hobbit.
100,000 y a - Oldest example of proper human burial. South Africa, Pigment (paint) Creation Kit found. (would cover bodies in mud/clay and then spray the paint over the bodies, sun screen-protection from insects)
90,000 y a – Harpoons.
86,000-37,000 y a – Neanderthal and Homo Sapiens begin interbreeding, based on genetic evidence found so far.
75,000 years ago - Likely rise of Hunter Genotype in Homo Sapiens.
75,000 y a - Art: Drilled snail shells found in South African cave.
73,000 y a - South Africa (Blombos Cave), evidence of Red Ochre art on pieces of stone, stone with deliberate lines cut into it possibly representing count marks.
72,000 y a - South Africa, Beads found in cave.
70,000 y a - Mitochondrial DNA suggests this is when the Haplo-group of early humans migrated out of Africa to populate the rest of the world.
70-60,000 y a - Earliest evidence of bone and stone arrowheads (for Spear Throwers), found in South Africa. 64,000?
70,000 - 35,000 BCE - Neanderthal burials in Europe and Middle East.
68-16,000 y a – Smallpox evolves from an African Rodent Virus.
67,000 BCE - France, burial shows skulls with Trepanation (cutting holes to relieve brain pressure), earliest example of surgery.
65,000 y a - First humans settle Australia.
64,000 y a - Spain, oldest evidence found of Cave Art (Neanderthal hand).
61,000 y a - South Africa, possible evidence of a Sewing Needle.
60,000? y a - Height of Ice Age?
60,000 y a - Evidence of man/Neanderthal using herbal medicine.
55,000 - 40,000 y a - Italy, evidence of Neanderthal using Pine Tree Resin and Beeswax for hafting tools, in cave. (Beeswax can be used in making Candles.)
52,000 y a - Last evidence of Denisovans.
52,000 – 41,000 y a – Archaeological find of “Bast” tree fiber twisted into primitive cordage, possibly as handle for a Stone Tool. (meaning they had access to Clothing, Nets, Cord for Fishing or Hafting tools, rope; thinking processes of Counting, Sets, Patterns, and possibly abstract thinking)
50,000 - 10,000 y a - Mode Four Stone Tools (long blades).
50,000 y a - Australia, last evidence of megafauna. Siberia, needle made from bone found in Denisovan cave. Genetic evidence of Neanderthal spreading to western edge of China.
50,000 years ago - End point of development of Gatherer Genotype (can survive famine), Teacher Genotype (can handle new and different environments, analytical).
45,000 y a - Evidence of Neanderthal and Homo Sapien interbreeding. (Fossil found, DNA tested.) (France, to create stone tools required precision, “Soft Hammers” were likely used.)
44,000 y a - Evidence of art found in Indonesia.
44,000-40,000 y a - Europe experiences cold and dry weather, displacing populations.
43-42,000 y a - Germany, oldest musical instruments (flutes) found.
42,000 y a - Australia, skeleton of man suggests Atlatl use, pre-dating earliest evidence; earliest example of cremation found. Spain, small amounts of Natural Gold found in a cave.
40,000 y a - (Mankind is at the “Forager” level.) Last evidence of Neanderthal. (Inheritance of "STAT2" gene, immune response. HYAL2 gene, helps skin recover from sunburns.) China, test on body found that ate a lot of fresh water fish. Possible example of oldest petroglyphs. Beads found in Lebanon.
40,000 - 26,000 y a - Studying toe bones, showed they became smaller and weaker, indicating shoes were worn. Prior to this, shoes were likely bags wrapped around feet to protect from cold.
38,000 BC - First appearance of Mode Five Ground Stone tools on Japan. (rock was quarried; thin slivers of flint stone, attached to hafts, man is learning the use of a "handle" for tools and "leverage", create Adzes, Celts, and Axes; grinding helps to penetrate trees and was likely discovered when grinding plant matter; found buried with owners; were traded) Lasted till 14,000 BC. (Would not become popular elsewhere until 10,000 BC?) Germany: Clay Figurine featuring human with lion like appearance, thought to be earliest representation of a Deity.
35,000 BCE - Europe, earliest examples of "Venus figurines" found buried in graves (some showing they were deliberately broken or stabbed repeatedly); would later spread to rest of Eurasia. Early examples of skulls and long bones showing red ochre, indicating possible relic worship.
35,000 y a - Germany, flute made from a vulture bone found.
30,000 BCE – Solomon Islands, first humans settle (60 km sea voyage).
31,000 - 27,000 y a - Evidence of Pit Fire (Earthernware) Pottery developing.
30,000-20,000 years ago - Explorer genotype (Ice Age refugees, idiosyncratic, asymmetrical, contrarian mentality)
30,000 y a - Evidence of starch residue on rocks, indicating where plant matter was pounded and ground. (Would likely be the pre-cursor of developing bread from roots of cattails and ferns. Quern Grinding Stones would spread and gain popularity.) Georgia, Flax used as a textile (harvested, dyed, and knotted) found in Dzudzuana Cave. Fertile Crescent, Einkorn wheat harvested in it's wild form. Evidence of man using the Atlatl. Poland: Boomerang carved from mammoth tusk found. France, Lunar Calendar. Likely when Bolas (stone weight(s) and length of cord) began to be used.
28,000 y a - Europe, oldest evidence of rope.
25,000 - 15,000 BCE - Blood Type A develops in the Fertile Crescent. (able to survive Plague, Cholera, Smallpox)
27,000 y a - Australia, oldest example of petroglyphs found. Czech Republic, earliest example of "Weaving" of material together to create baskets and basic cloth. (Leads to counting and simple math, organizing.)
26,000-13,300 y a - Considered "Glacial Maximum", ice sheets extend to the 45th parallel north. (26,500 considered to be maximum glacial reach.)
23,000 - 12,000 y a – Europe, Perforated Batons found, made of antler, assumed to be a form of Atlatl that uses a leather strap or string to wrap around the spear and give it a slight spin, arrow or spear thrower (similar to Swiss Arrow). Right and left handed throwers find preference. Most carved with Horses, have one or two holes (one had 8 holes).
23,000 y a - Israel, Ohalo archaeological site, hunter-gatherer society (6 brushwood shelters, 132 stone tools some attached to hafts, stone Sickles, dwellings showed flint tools were made at entrance, cooking at other end, grind stone showed sand and cobbles to place and had U-shape of seeds around it) that grew/harvested Barley, Millet, Bromus (grass in same tax tribe as wheat/barley/rye, can be used for fermenting beverages, can be eaten by humans and animals), Rubus (same family as Rose plants, similar to blackberries), and various fruits (seeds from 13 different species), earliest evidence for “Bedding” material.
22,000 – 17,000 y a – France, Solutrean inhabitants make use of Antler.
21,000-17,000 y a - France, Atlatl's found in caves.
20,000 y a - Height of the Ice Age, sea levels 120 meters (360 feet) lower. Mode Five Stone Tools (microliths glued to handles, Fertile Crescent). Earliest example of a building/house found. Ukraine, Bullroarer (wood on rope that is swung around to create sound over long distance) found. Iraq-Iran, Zarzian Culture, had domesticated Dogs.
19,050? - 13,050 y a - Oldest Dryas Period, stadial, abrupt cooling period. Sea levels rose 10-15 m in 500 years.
17,000 BCE - Mesopotamia, Wild Emmer Wheat harvested.
18,000 - 17,500 y a - Siberia, earliest example of a domesticated dog found frozen. Germany, Bow and Arrows found. Early evidence of Darts used.
18,000 y a - Japan, oldest pottery discovered.
15,100 - 14,000 y a - Morocco, earliest example of a cemetery.
15,000 y a – Mode Five Stone Tools reach Europe. Southern France, cave art depicting possible Musical Bow, Nose Flute; "The Sorcerer," a figure showing human and many animal qualities (bison), made out of Clay.
15,000 – 10,000 y a – France, Stone Oil Lamps.
14,500 y a - Oldest example of bread making, Jordan desert.
14,160 - 13,820 y a - Archaeological find: infected tooth partially cleaned out with flint tools.
14,600 - 13,600 y a - "Melt Water Pulse," sea levels rose 16-24 m.
14,000? y a - Older Dryas Period, around 200 year cooling period.
13,500 - 8,200 y a - China, wild Rice domestication event occurs.
15-10,000 BCE - Himalayas, development of Blood Type B.
11,050 BCE - Syria, attempts at domesticating Rye.
13,000 y a - Greece, evidence of lentils found. Earliest evidence of Amber used in jewelry. Israel, archaeological evidence of beer like gruel for ceremonial purposes found at Haifa. Likely beginning of Slavery.
13,000 - 12,700 y a - Fertile Crescent, archaeological evidence of man corralling and using pigs.
12,900 - 11,700 y a - The Younger Dryas Period, when temperatures went cold instead of warming from the Last Glacial Maximum.
10,000 BCE - Jericho, considered mankind's first town, is established. Buildings of clay and straw, dead buried under homes. (Would reach 70 dwellings by 94,000 BCE.) Chickpeas domesticated. Earliest evidence of the Bottle Gourd being domesticated and used (Africa and Asia variety). Azerbaijan (Caspian Sea), petroglyphs of reed boats. Starting point of Ocarina type flutes. Cyprus, humans arrive. Germany, Jet artifact (Botfly larvae, which can be eaten). Curved Stone Oil Lamps.
11,700 y a - Considered the beginning of the Holocene.
9600 BCE - Southern Levant, earliest use of wild Emmer Wheat.
11,500 - 11,000 y a - "Melt Water Pulse," sea levels rose 28 m.
11,400 y a - Cypress, archaeological evidence of pigs (indicating they had been domesticated and brought from the mainland).
9400 - 9200 BCE - Jordan Valley, Fig trees found, indicating earliest agriculture since these trees could not reproduce.
9130 - 7370 BCE - SE Turkey, Gobekli Tepe, oldest known worship location.
9000 BCE - Syria, oldest (Saddle) Quern found. Mesopotamia, Copper first used. Bartering of Cattle and agricultural products likely occurring at this time.
9000 - 3300 BCE - Neolithic Era, roughly. Time period of when man has begun herding, before using bronze.
11,000 - 9,000 y a - Mesopotamia, domestication of Sheep; Rammed Earth construction technique developed. Iran, Domestication of Goat (focused on management of the animal, varieties would come later).
11,000-4,000 years ago - Warrior genotype (farmers, soldiers, inventors); Nomad genotype (life upon a horse, can handle different environments, good immune system)
11 or 10,000 y a - Last Ice Age ends.
8800 BCE - Emmer Wheat spreads beyond the Levant.
8700 BCE - Iraq, Copper pendant.
8500 BCE - Domestication of Barley. Domestication of peas occurs around this time. Turkey, Beer production found at Gobekli Tepe. Domestication of Cattle from the Aurochs (two separate populations, one in Mesopotamia [pop. 80], the other Pakistan). (Rendering cattle bones into Tallow allows for the creation of Candles. Beeswax also used.) Oregon, oldest pair of shoes found made from bark twine. Oats possibly start to be harvested, crop mirrors wheat (is like a weed).
8400 BCE – Cyprus, earliest dug Water Well (26 ft).
10,300 - 8,700 y a - China, Millet harvested.
10,200 - 9,500 y a - Emmer Wheat domesticated(?).
10,000 - 7,000 y a - Archaeological evidence of boats.
8000 BCE (10,000 years ago) – Genetic evidence of breeding Pigeons. Palestine, archaeological evidence of pastoralism. Pre-Pottery Neolithic people in the Fertile Crescent form perfectly smooth stone vases. Iran, Goat domestication. Believed to be when primitive dairy-cheese making began. Flax cultivation. China, Quern Grinding Stones. England, Antler used in headdress costume.
9,500 y a - Cyprus, earliest evidence of cat domestication. SE Anatolia, cold-working, annealing, smelting, lost wax casting of Copper.
7570 BCE – Indus Valley, Lapis Lazuli artifacts.
7500 - 5700 BCE - Anatolia, Catal Hoyuk develops as a spiritual center, found many clay figurines and impressions (feminine, phallic, hunting).
7400 BCE - A monolith ends up submerged in the Straight of Sicily.
7176 B.C. – Earth hit by one of the most massive Solar Storms from the sun ever recorded (visible at night with the magnetic field interaction).
7000 BCE - Archaeological evidence for pastoralism in Africa. China: evidence of mead (honey, rice, water fermented) in pottery; evidence of musical instruments. India, first archaeological evidence of Dance (cave art); evidence of dentistry. Armenian Highlands, art depictions of Cymbals. Durum Wheat made thru artificial selection in Europe and Near East. Greece, earliest evidence of grain silos. Turkey, Catal Hoyuk, art depiction of a Slinger. Afghanistan, Lapis Lazuli mined and traded to Indus and Mesopotamia societies. Europe, Cave Wall art of Honey Collecting.
7000 - 6600 BCE - China, domestication of Soy beans.
7000 - 6000 BCE - Turkey, domestication of Bitter Vetch. (Too bitter for human consumption without being boiled several times, has been found to be great for cattle feed.)
6500-3800 BCE - Ubaid Period (Mesopotamian citystates rise, evidence of specialized workers, evidence of taxation)
6500 BCE - Turkey, evidence of lead smelting at Catal Hoyuk. (Wrapping the dead in textiles, too.) China, archaeological evidence of Silk. Kosovo, oldest Ocarina found in Europe.
8,200 - 7,600 y a - Sea levels rise rapidly. Linked to North American great fresh water lake (Agassiz, Ojibway) sudden draining into Atlantic Ocean. 8,400 y a?
6050 BCE - Moldova, evidence of man extracting salt from a natural spring.
8,000 y a - Western Europe, white skin first appears. Iran: earliest evidence of irrigation; man starts choosing sheep for their wooliness, not just meat and skin (2-3,000 years later, would start wearing wool). Georgia, earliest evidence of wine. Spain, cave painting shows people collecting honey from a wild hive, using a container to hold. China, Buckwheat cultivated (near Tibetan plateau), possible first example of Influenza. Earliest evidence of the Ard Plow used (castrating bulls to train 4 years to become Draft Oxen, also means they can be used to haul logs thru and from forests). Mediterranean, Broad (Fava) Beans, Broccoli. Portugal: Almendres Cromlech, begins, aligned to equinox and solstice, occupied for 2,000 years, would become largest complex in Iberian peninsula, equal to other large complexes in Europe. Anatolia: Obsidian polished into mirrors. Spelt Wheat appears. First Stone hafted Axes. Earliest evidence of “Cock Fighting” game fowl. (Iraq, Kiln.)
6000 - 3500 BC - Mesopotamia (Sumer), Poppy domesticated.
7,8-5,000 y a - SE Turkey, Einkorn Wheat grown and domesticated.
5600 BCE - Evidence of The Black Sea Flood, turning the fresh water lake into a salt water sea, rose shorelines and displaced populations (source of flood myths in religions).
7500 y a - Earth experiences a cold climate period? Lasts for 500 or more years.
7500 y a - Earliest example of chickpeas being used. Poland, archaeological evidence of cheese making. Ukraine, Romania, earliest examples of traps used for hunting. Pakistan, evidence of Cotton found in copper beads. Egypt, earliest Combs found (placing a leaf in the teeth can create a primitive sound instrument).
5500-5000 BCE - Serbia, Copper Smelting.
5200 - 4700 BCE - Iran, earliest evidence of a wheel, for pottery, made of stone or clay.
7,000 y a - Earliest example of Dolmen, single chamber tomb, consists of two stones supporting another on top (table design), found in western Europe, would spread and be common 4000 - 3000 BCE in Europe. Iranian plateau, evidence of Bronze made with naturally occurring arsenic. Tin would replace as the major ingredient (and releasing non-toxic vapors) in the late 3000 BCE period. Iran, evidence of wine found, using sealed containers. China, Hemp domestication (smoking was likely cause for spread, Iron Age would use for production); Rammed Earth construction technique, Silkworm domestication begins. Egypt, Badarian culture starts farming, used boomerangs. Roundels, circular enclosure often with entrances aligned to solstice, would be constructed in Central Europe (Germany, 120-150 altogether). Siberia, oldest carpet found (likely a funeral gift, from Armenia, featured griffons). Mesopotamia: first use of Stamp Seals for government purposes; Rotary Quern milling stones are introduced. Armenia: possible origin of Apricots. Lake Zurich, cultivation of Pear. Indus Valley Civilization, using Bitumen aka Asphalt for waterproofing (a basket), adhesive. Bulgaria, Turquoise beads.
6950 - 6440 y a - Papua New Guinea, cultivation of Taro and Yam.
4800 BCE - Egypt, early evidence of peas being grown. Cairn of Barnenez, Brittany, England, begins (burial monument and later bronze age use, considered one of the oldest and largest man made structures).
4700 - 4200 BCE - The town of Solnitstata, considered the oldest known settlement in Europe. Built around a salt deposit.
6,500 y a - Croatia, earliest example of an oven found. Slovenia, dental filling made with beeswax. Indus Valley, irrigation. Wine production reaches Greece. Carnac Stones, Brittany, France; would become large complex of standing stones, menhirs, domens, tumuli (burial mounds, with passage tombs), large rectangle formed by stone. Americas: various tribes domesticated “chili peppers.” Bulgaria, Carnelian beads. Manufactured Red Pottery Oil Lamps.
4500-4000 BCE - China, Investment Casting develops.
4200 - 4000 BCE - Mesopotamia develops true, easy to spin pottery wheels.
6,000 y a - Earth experiences a cold climate period? (Starting maybe 500 years earlier and ending 500 years later.)
4000 BCE - (Mankind has achieved “Farmer status.”) (Thought to be when Cattle were turned into Oxen for Draft Animal purposes.) Egyptians start building big Brick structures; manufacturing Papyrus; Gold artifacts; (domesticated Donkeys?). Earliest examples of Kilns. NE Italy, archaeological find of Appleseeds. Sicily, evidence of wine found. Ukraine, Kazakhstan, Horse domestication begins (they became small and varied in size as compared to their wild ancestors). “Pontic Language Explosion”. [People from north of the Caspian and Black Seas migrated around Eurasia, ancestor of western languages. (shared origins with: milk, horses, sheep, cattle, pigs, goats, grain, copper, carts, yoke, weaving, mead; patrilineal clans)]. Earliest examples of Viticulture (wine making). Levant, earliest examples of harvesting Olives; start using grain Silos. Art: Earliest depiction of Shoes, Sandals. China: example of a Loom for Silk production; Ramie (similar to flax, requires chemical processing, not as popular, believed to be used for Egyptian mummy wraps). Persia (Iran), Mung Bean domestication?, Chang (precursor to Harp) found on artwork, made with sheep guts. Mesopotamia: Stamp Seals come into use; Mirrors made of Copper; 30-40% of animal bones in settlements were pork (understood to be a way of removing trash from community, easy to feed and raise many); Uruk clay tablet describes two temples owning a herd of 95 pigs to be rendered into soap to clean linen; clay pipes for sewage. Europe, farming reaches northern regions. Anatolia, Silver production.
4000 - 1000 BCE - Ethiopia, Teff is discovered (can feed people and livestock, building material).
3800 - 3500 BCE - Czech Republic, possible evidence of earliest plowed fields.
5,700 y a - Lolland Island, a blue eyed, dark haired, dark skin woman spits out some Birch Bark gum; oldest complete human genome extracted; had Mononucleosis ("kissing disease"). Possible archeological evidence of pit traps used for migrating animal hunting.
3630 BCE - Oldest example of silk fabric found.
3600 BCE – Pork bones in settlements (Levant, Mesopotamia) dropped to 16-30% of total livestock.
5,500 - 4,700 y a - Georgia, tomb found had honey remains on pottery. (This culture could identify Linden, Berry, and Meadow-Flower varieties.)
3500 BCE - City of Uruk: (Mesopotamia) begins outward expansion and influence, later first example of organized warfare (would influence Egyptians to start building pyramids); "Cylinder Seals," a type of noble seal, that can be rolled unto wet clay (would be popular until 1000 BCE). Iraq, Kish Tablet, considered to represent the early transition from pictographic to cuneiform. Mesopotamia, earliest Harps and Lyres found; Gold artifacts. Modern humans settle the western coast of Europe, hunter-gatherers. Egyptians show Cat domestication; Gold Smelting; used a vertical Gnomon as a primitive Sundial? Iran, Beer made from Barley. Armenia, earliest Leather Shoe found. China, Pottery in shape of silkworm indicates earliest example of Sericulture (silk worm production).
3500 - 3350 BCE – Mesopotamia, earliest evidence of wheeled vehicles. Indus Valley civilization uses Stamp Seals with a type of script.
3400 BCE (5,400 years ago) - First metal casting. France, Cow skull showing Trepanation found.
5,400 -5,100 y a - Itzi the Iceman dies in the mountains of Northern Italy. Had a copper axe. Earliest evidence of tattoos. Shoes made from two types of animal skin (bear and deer). Arsenic residue in his hair.
3300 BCE - Egypt, tomb paintings show people Dancing. Indus Valley, develop Sanitation.
3200 BCE - Examples of using symbols to represent real life objects (would go to form written language). Ireland, construction begins on Newgrange, largest passage tomb in Europe, aligned to winter solstice. Egypt, Bead made of Meteoric Iron found.
3100 - 2900 BCE - Jemdet Nasr period (following fall of Uruk) would be known as establishing Cuneiform as a proper language.
3100 BCE - Upper and Lower Egypt unified. Mesopotamia, likely evidence of the earliest Lute type device.
3000 BCE - Onset of Bronze. Mesopotamia, Irrigation; Glass Beads appear (possible side effect of making metal); possible earliest Iron working (required higher temperatures), cuneiform mention of Pigeons. Sumer, Medical text found on tablet, believed oldest ever found. Egypt, Hieroglyphs of Pigeons and use of Homing Pigeons for message delivery, first record of a Doctor named, Imhotep; Antimony harvested from rock and made into eye makeup; earliest evidence of domestic Donkeys in the south. Egyptian Mummies show evidence of Smallpox (deathrate 30% especially among babies, can leave people blind). Dromedary Camels likely domesticated in Somalia at this time. (Camel hair can be harvested for shelter and clothing, outer guard hairs make for water proof coats. Camel milk readily turns into yogurt. To turn into butter requires a clarifying agent and extended process.) Chicken reaches Europe from Asia. England, earliest Stone Circles found. Slovakia, Romania, earliest chainmail found. Sheep chosen for wooly coat, not long hair. China, Clay Bells found. India, River Buffalo domesticated (water buffalo); Jute grown for fiber (burlap). Northern Iran, earliest examples of Trumpets. SE Asia, earliest records of Radish. Pakistan, Terracota female figurines.
2800 BCE - Solid evidence of plowed fields. China, Copper smelting discovered. Babylon, evidence of manufacture of soap like substance.
2700 BCE - Chinese treatise on health. 40 kinds identified.
2650 BCE - Egypt, dental work found.
2630-10 BCE - Egypt, Pyramid of Djoser constructed by Imhotep, considered first.
2600 BCE – Egypt, domestication of Honey Bee complete.
2600 - 1900 BCE - Indus Valley, Stoneware Pottery (meaning fired at 1000 degrees Celsius), would become a major industry; (Ivory?).
2580-50 BCE – Egypt, creates first true Ocean Dock for sea trading vessels (with Indus Valley).
2560 BCE - Great Pyramid of Giza completed.
2500 BCE - Evidence of The Amber Road, trade route from the Baltic Sea to Mediterranean Sea. E Iran, Bactrian Camels domesticated. Iraq, "Lyres of Ur," considered world's oldest stringed instruments. Peru, oldest Sling ever found. Egypt, earliest depiction of a Khopesh (sword). Sumerian Clay Tablet with instructions for manufacturing soap (heating mixture of oil and wood ash, earliest record chemical reaction, used for washing woolen clothing). China, axes with Corundum (precious stone). Harappan Culture of Indus Valley, chicken used for Cock Fighting, not food.
2500 - 2000 BCE - Mali, domestication of Pearl Millet. Turkey, Meteoric Iron dagger.
2400 BCE - Sumer, description of Prostitution and a Brothel-Temple to Fertility Goddess.
2300 BCE - Mesopotamia, Urukagina of Lagash, considered the earliest Law Code. (Widows and orphans exempt from taxes, state pays for funeral expenses, the rich must pay in silver and cannot force the poor against will, checked power of priests, protect from usury, abolished polyandry). Iran, Quince (fruit). China, oldest Gnomon (painted stick that casts a shadow for sundial purpose).
2200 BCE - China, first known tax, using salt. Iraq, tablet reads “22 jars of Pig Fat” (each jar 18 liters of Lard, 396 liters total, require 45 adult pigs; likely used to make soap to clean wool of sheep before turning them into textiles)
2200-2000 BCE - Turkey, Iron Smelting.
2100 - 2050 BCE - City of Ur: Earliest written Code of Law discovered. References Butter. (Fines for bodily harm, references murder, robbery, adultery, rape. Two classes of people: free and slave.)
4000 - 3000 y a - Mesopotamia, earliest Scissors (shear, spring type). India, Mung Bean domesticated.
2000 BCE - Murals show horses pulling chariots. Horses become common in western Europe. England, Great Orme Mine started, would become largest copper mine in region (most productive between 1700 - 1400 BCE), used bone and stone tools. China, Bells made out of metal (Bellfounding); domestication of the Swamp Buffalo (water buffalo). Ghana, earliest evidence of Cowpea (black eyed pea). India, Canola/Rapeseed; Diamonds being used to drill beads. Egypt, Lupin Beans. Greece, Kale grown.
1900 BCE – Homing Pigeons used for warfare.
1800 BCE - Egypt, medical text on gynecological issues; Safflower for pigment. India, Iron working.
1754 BCE - Code of Hammurabi (recognized Prostitution and gave women protection and inheritance; theorized that a fertility goddess had a temple that offered sex workers).
1700 - 1200 BCE - (Late Bronze Age) 8 societies in Middle East: Aegean, Egyptian, Hittite, Canaanite, Cypriot, Mitanni, Assyrian, Babylonian. Considered a "globalized world system." Next time this would occur is today.
1700 BCE – Mesopotamia: The "Mari Letters" reference Minoan society, King Hammurabi; clay tablets list Trigonometry Tables and Applied Geometry (for land ownership, speculated to aid in construction).
1628 BCE - Island of Thera/Santorini experiences huge volcanic eruption, possibly causing a tsunami thru eastern Mediterranean.
1600-1500 BCE - Greece, Helmet formed of boar tusks found.
1600 BCE – Levant, Mesopotamia, Pork bones rarely found in settlements (banned from temples in Anatolia, Mesopotamia, Egypt). (Found amongst the poor classes, difficult to tax since it did not produce wool or milk or could plow a field.)
1550 BCE – Papyrus Ebers, Egyptian medical text, mentions Chlamydia.
1500 BCE - Modern Trumpet design found in eastern Mediterranean. India, Pigeon Pea domesticated. Egypt, Mercury found in tombs; archaeologists find earliest Sundials; Emerald mines. China, Water Clocks.
1400 BCE - Syria, Hurrian Songs, cuneiform music tablet in Ugarit. Greece, oldest body armor found, made of bronze, Dendra Panoply (not actually worn, more of a showpiece, but clear representation of body armor for battle). China, Meteoric Iron axeheads. Art representation of Scale Mail in Egypt. Art: representation of Shields.
1350 BCE - Turkey, Hittites chronicle Egyptian prisoners of war bringing "the plague.”
1300 BCE - Uluburun Shipwreck, off coast of Turkey, had 300 sixty pound copper ingots (10 tons), 1 ton of tin, and tin objects and ingots of colored glass (blue, rose, brown). From Cypress/Minoa.
1300? - 900? BCE - Eastern Mediterranean experiences a 300? year drought. (Could also be: Cypress 1200- 850. Syria 1250-1187. Galilee 1250-1100)
1279 BCE - Battle of Qadesh (Egypt vs Hittites).
1200 BCE (3,200 years ago) - Onset of Iron smelting. Earliest Camel saddles appear. Last appearance of Megaliths. India, earliest evidence of Firewalking.
1200 BCE - Eastern Mediterranean civilization collapse. Drought in Greece. Earthquake series.
1188-1177 BCE - Egypt suffers invasions from "The Sea People."
1185 BCE - Syria, Ugarit Letter, Famine.
1140? BCE - Ramses 6th, mummy found to have Smallpox. No record of people dying from Smallpox.
1100 BCE - Phoenicians establish nation. Europe, Iron Age.
1100? BCE - Earth experiences a cold temperature period?
1100-750 BCE - Egypt, Iron Smelting.
1070 BCE - Egyptian mummy found with Silk in hair, earliest evidence of Silk Road.
1000 BCE - Early Cuneiform script (late stages, still pictograph in nature). Bactria, Barbat (primitive lute). Egypt, Kenaf is grown for fibers, leaves can be eaten by animals and humans (similar to Jute and Hemp; rope, rough fabric, sails). Mediterranean, Cabbage domesticated. China, Iron Age. Sport: racing Homing Pigeons.
930 BCE - Camel bones found in Arabian peninsula. Jordan, earliest Bloomery for Iron working found.
800 - 600 BCE - Ethiopia, Sorghum Wheat begins to be harvested.
800 BCE - Considered the beginning of Ancient Greece, after the Mycenae Civilization. China, Bloomeries used.
700-500 BCE - The Illiad orally composed. India, Diamond mining starts.
708 BCE – Greece, Olympics, Discus Throw.
700 BCE - Turkey, first Coins in Lydia. Assyria, first equipment recognized as a Saddle for a Horse.
660 BCE – Massive Solar Storm hits Earth.
600 BCE - Earliest example of a Steel Sword.
600-400 BCE - Ancient Greece rise of scientific inquiry and philosophy
550 BCE - The Illiad written down.
540 BCE – Sri Lanka, earliest record of Pearls.
500 BCE - Camels used in warfare. Persians use kettle drums for military maneuvers, frighten enemies. Greece, Grape Syrup, early form of sweetener and preservative; earliest written mention of what could be Influenza. Blackberries consumed around Europe. Spain, Disk Quern developed. India, Cholera described in Sanskrit. Romans manufacture dipped Candles.
430 BCE – Athens, Typhoid Fever outbreak during siege by Sparta.
400 BCE - The "Celts/Gaeil" settle Ireland. Greece, the “Hippocratic Corpus” seventy collected medical texts, mentions Pneumonia, Meningitis, Valerian Root.
396 BCE - Olympics, horn blowing competitions.
314 BCE - China, first mention of Sweet Orange.
298 BCE - Foot powered Loom.
200 BCE - China starts making paper.
2024.05.08 01:56 cgstories The Devil's Bow and Strings (Ch. 8 Final)
First Chapter Previous Chapter
Mrs. Vilonte stood alone in the bathroom. In her hands, she cradled the urn containing her husband's ashes. The weight of it was surprisingly light, almost inconsequential, like the flutter of a moth's wing against her palm.
There was a tinge of sadness that grazed her heart. She had spent years by his side, experiencing the highs and lows of marriage. And now he was dead. The memorial service had been sparsely attended, with only a handful offering their condolences.
One photographer seemed overly eager to capture a shot of the grieving widow shedding a tear. But Mrs. Vilonte despised tears—seeing them, feeling them trickle down her face. The moment she felt her eyes sting and tears threatening to spill, she brushed them away before they had a chance to fall.
Now, the house was quiet. But mixed with that lingering sadness was a sense of relief, a subtle liberation that whispered to her from the shadows. He had betrayed her. His infidelity had cut deep.
She unscrewed the lid of the urn. The ashes inside seemed to shimmer in the faint light. Without hesitation, she emptied the contents into the toilet bowl and pulled the lever, watching as they spiraled downwards, swallowed by the rushing water.
XXXXXX
She once cherished two joys during her drives to Gabrielle's violin lessons. One was soaking in the serene landscape while indulging in her beloved soft jazz on the radio. The other was the comforting presence of her daughter beside her in the front passenger seat.
Now, she glanced at the vacant seat, and a wave of melancholy washed over her. Shaking off the emotion, she turned her attention back to the road, gripping the wheel tighter as she accelerated. After a stretch of driving, she eventually arrived at the mansion.
She had often wondered how the maestro accumulated such immense wealth. However, after meeting his benefactor and experiencing the allure of that wealth herself, she began to understand the price he had paid–the soul.
Was striking a deal with such a malevolent entity truly worth it? This question haunted her thoughts daily, and still, she had no definitive answer. The allure of luxury was intoxicating like the addictive sweetness of sugar. The more she indulged in it, the stronger her craving became, leaving her caught in a cycle of desire and uncertainty.
The mansion was as elegant and grand as she remembered. In the front yard, a splendid water fountain glistened under the sunlight. Surrounding the mansion was a manicured garden bloomed with vibrant colors and lush foliage.
Before stepping out of the car, she pulled a handgun from the glove compartment and carefully concealed it in her purse. Today was the day she planned to confront him, intent on demanding him to undo the unfortunate turn her life had taken.
The front door was unlocked and it swung open effortlessly as she entered. It slammed shut behind her without her even touching it, and there was no wind to explain it.
“Ah, Mrs. Vilonte,” a familiar male voice greeted warmly, “It's been far too long since our last meeting. You look lovely as ever!”
She looked up to see the young Salerno, leaning casually against the railing at the top of the split staircase. His smirking face drew a scowl from her. She resented his mocking compliment about her looking “lovely as ever.” She wore the same black dress she'd worn since her husband's memorial, now creased from sleep and carrying a faint scent of dried scotch.
“You've had your fun, Salerno,” she retorted, her voice tinged with restrained anger. "I shouldn't have broken our agreement, and I've learned my lesson.”
“Have you?”
“Yes, and I assure you, it won't happen again.”
“So, what can I do for you?”
“I want my life back.”
Salerno's face was solemn, shrouded in silence. Unexpectedly, he erupted into mocking laughter.
“That's not the nature of consequences, my dear,” he remarked. “You must live with what you've done. Forgiveness is not in my nature.
“You've stripped me of my wealth–”
“It wasn't yours to begin with.”
“I have nothing left!”
“Oh, that isn't completely true. You still have your family.”
“You've torn my family apart! My husband is gone, my son imprisoned and now my daughter, too! You've taken her from me.”
“But soon you'll be reunited.”
“What do you mean?”
He motioned for her to ascend the stairs. “You've arrived just in time to witness something miraculous. Something beautiful!”
Confusion clouded Mrs. Vilonte's face until she heard an agonized moan coming from an upstairs room, followed by a cry she knew all too well.
“Gabrielle,” she gasped.
Salerno nodded. “You're about to be a grandmother to another child.”
The haunting images from the field of mirrors flooded back. The abomination—a monstrous entity—was on the brink of entering their world, and who knew what kind of hell it would bring. Suddenly, a powerful force propelled her towards the stairs, her movements no longer under her control. Before she knew it, she stood face to face with Salerno on the top landing. His grin exposed jagged, menacing teeth, and his eyes were pools of darkness. With talon-like fingers, he grasped her shoulders, their sharp points piercing her skin.
He led her into the master bedroom, where Gabrielle lay in a fitful sleep on a queen-size bed, her movements restless. Her eyes were closed, and sweat had matted her hair to her head. Beside her sat Victoria, whose skin showed signs of decay, and she moved with a robotic, disjointed motion as she wiped the sweat from Gabrielle's face with a cloth. When Victoria moved aside, Mrs. Vilonte shivered, finding herself staring into Victoria's empty, hollow eye sockets.
Salerno leaned in close to her ear, his voice a low whisper as he said, “My children are everywhere, and this newborn will join them, serving me in this world. You should feel honored to be part of something extraordinary, something greater than yourself.”
Slipping free from his hold, she quickly made her way to her daughter's bedside, sweeping aside stray locks from her face. The moment her fingers made contact with her skin, Gabrielle began to calm down.
“Gabby, it's Mom,” she whispered gently, a wave of relief washing over her as her daughter's eyes fluttered open in response.
“Did you enjoy the concert, Mom?” Gabrielle asked, faintly.
“Well, it was an unforgettable performance, that's for sure.”
“Didn’t I do a phenomenal job?”
“Let's talk about it when we get home.”
“Home?”
“Yes, you're coming home with me now.”
“I can't... the baby is going to arrive soon,” Gabrielle gasped, her voice strained with pain. "It hurts too much to move.”
“You’ll have to endure it! We need to get out of here!”
Mrs. Vilonte tossed aside the blanket and firmly grasped her arm, pulling her out of the bed. Gabrielle staggered and lost her footing, sliding down onto the floor. She reached for the edge of the bed, trying to soften her sudden fall.
“Run, run, but wherever you hide,” Salerno sang, “you'll never escape this hell.”
Mrs. Vilonte quickly drew the handgun from her purse, aiming it at him as he approached. Her eyes darted between Salerno and Victoria, the gun wavering between the two.
“Stay back! Just let us go.”
Salerno chuckled. “Mrs. Vilonte, really now? Violence won't solve your problems.”
A deafening bang echoed through the room. He staggered back, pressing a hand to his belly as blood began to seep through his white shirt. His mouth opened, releasing a plume of black smoke that coalesced into the silhouette of a large goat standing upright on its hind legs.
The creature glared at her with red eyes before the smoke dissipated. Then, as if the inevitable march of age had finally caught up to him within seconds, his vitality began to wane. His once smooth skin transformed into a web of wrinkles. His dark eyes dimmed, replaced by a cloudy haze. His jet-black hair turned a shocking shade of white, contrasting starkly with the pallor of his skin. His cheeks began to sink.
Salerno, aged and frail, sank to the floor, his hand stubbornly pressed against his wound as if hoping to halt the flow of blood. “Run, run, but wherever you hide, you'll never escape this hell.”
Mrs. Vilonte seized her daughter's arm, hauling her upright, all the while keeping the gun trained between Salerno and Victoria. Victoria lay collapsed on the floor, reduced to a heap of decomposed skin devoid of bones and muscle.
A deep rumble echoed through the room, causing it to tremble and sway. Cracks snaked across the walls, paint peeling away in tattered sheets. Twisting, blood-red vines crept from the fractures, weaving their way across walls and ceiling. Acting quickly, Mrs. Vilonte seized Gabrielle, who had collapsed to the floor, teeth clenched in pain from another surge of agony. She pulled her up by the arm, forcing her to her feet and pushing her towards the door.
The mansion, once a symbol of pride when she'd taken her daughter for the maestro’s lessons, was transforming into a nightmarish scene. Blood oozed from the decaying walls, while a noxious sulfuric odor filled the air, nearly suffocating Mrs. Vilonte and making each breath a struggle.
She didn't pause for rest or allow Gabrielle a moment to catch her breath until they were safely out of the house and speeding away in the car, putting as much distance as possible between them and the area.
“Mom, stop the car,” Gabrielle groaned in pain from the back seat.
“Hold on tight, honey. We'll go to the nearest hospital.”
“I can't wait anymore!”
“It won't be long. Twenty minutes.”
“I can feel the baby wanting to come out.”
Mrs. Vilonte looked up at the rearview mirror, where she saw Gabrielle's sweaty face scrunched up in pain, gripping her rounded belly with both hands.
“I know this isn’t easy,” she said, “but you need to hold out a little longer. We'll be at the hospital very soon.”
“STOP THE CAR!”
The car came to a sudden stop, jolting Mrs. Vilonte forward and almost throwing Gabrielle off from her seat.
“The baby is coming! Mom, help me!” Gabrielle cried.
“The baby…”
Mrs. Vilonte couldn't shake the thought that this creature couldn't possibly be human. The horrifying acts that it could be capable of frightened her, and the idea that it shared a bloodline with her sickened her even more. Her hand moved to the handgun resting on the passenger seat beside her, considering the one extreme solution she could think of for such an unusual situation.
It wasn't ideal, but she saw no other option.
She took hold of the gun and stepped out of the car, approaching the rear passenger side. Opening the door, she found her daughter propped on her elbows, lifting her dress to reveal the widening canal. Gabrielle let out a menacing growl as she pushed.
Mrs. Vilonte crouched to inspect closer, and instantly felt the unsettling, malevolent presence. The entity seemed to be trying to claw its way out from the depths of the abyss. It inched towards the light, its growls growing louder like a ravenous animal. As Gabrielle pushed further, its red, snouted face broke through, its eyes snapping open to lock onto hers with an intense, black-eyed glare.
Startled, she stumbled back, her hands grasping for the handgun that had slipped from her trembling fingers. As she aimed at the creature before her, an unseen force encircled her hands. She fought to maintain control, but the force twisted the weapon, redirecting it towards her. Suddenly, she found herself staring down the barrel of her gun.
The trees came alive with a flurry of motion as a group of birds took flight, their wings beating frantically against the sky. The once-quiet canopy echoed with the sound of panicked chirps and the movement of feathers, as the startled birds scattered in all directions, seeking refuge from the sudden disturbance caused by a blast.
XXXXX
In the forest of another realm, beyond the physical world, her skin melded seamlessly with the tree's bark, as vines snaked their way around her, ensnaring her limbs. Fungi blossomed from her mouth, rendering her voiceless as her tongue was entwined.
The goat-like creature approached her, brandishing a small mirror, coercing her to confront her distorted reflection. Little remained of her once recognizable features. Worms and roaches had taken residence in the hollow cavity where her nose and right eye had been. With her one remaining eye, she gazed into the mirror, waves of anguish coursing through her being as she beheld the grim reflection of what she had transformed into.
Then, as her ghastly reflection faded, a young man with dark hair and eyes as deep as coal materialized, wearing a black suit, standing with poise on a stage, holding up a violin. Upon closer look, she realized it to be the very violin Gabrielle had once owned.
“Behold what my child has become,” the entity proclaimed. “Are you not as proud of him as I am?”
XXXXX
A bright light beamed down on the young man standing center stage, his violin poised in his hands. His fingers glided over the strings, and with each passing note, the audience, their eyes fixed on him, was drawn deeper into his spell. It wrapped around the listeners' hearts and pulled them into a trance-like state. And as the last notes hung in the air, the audience were suspended in silence and left breathless. Then, they leaped to their feet in thunderous applause.
With a twisted smile, he relished the adulation. He knew he had sway over them, puppet master of their actions. He could simply issue a command, and they would eagerly comply, ready to enact his darkest fantasies. He imagined directing his willing servants to get up on the roof of a towering building and leap into the abyss below, willingly offering themselves as sacrifices.
He envisioned chaos unleashed upon the streets, cars overturned, windows shattered, and buildings engulfed in flames. All at his behest. The world lay at his fingertips, ripe for manipulation and destruction, as he thought about the countless ways he could bring about humanity’s demise.
After his final bow, the young man turned to face the audience, expressing heartfelt thanks for their attendance, eliciting both laughter and warm affection from the crowd. But, amidst the resounding applause, one figure remained still in the front row, confined to a wheelchair. He stared straight at her face which was hidden behind a thin black veil.
Though her body remained motionless in the chair, incapable of even the slightest movement, her one good eye was very much alive, fully engaged with her surroundings. And there was something else in her gaze. He could sense it from the stage, and it made him chuckle. It was an aroma he found intoxicating – the unmistakable stench of fear, seeping from every pore like primal pheromones.
The audience clamored for an encore, yearning to satisfy their insatiable thirst for more music. Their fervent cries echoed through tears. Lifting his violin once more, he hushed the audience with a single motion. The moment the red bow touched the strings, pandemonium broke loose. The spectators lost all self-control, leaping from their seats, clutching their heads, and tearing at their hair in a wild frenzy. They were completely entranced, surrendered to the power of the music.
As his crescendo intensified, a raging fire surged within them, mirrored by the frantic speed of his fingers on the strings. With each chord, they tore at their garments, sinking nails and teeth into one another's flesh. Chaos exploded, mingling with the scent of blood and the sound of rending flesh.
Mrs. Vilonte remained seated in her wheelchair, an impassive observer amidst the chaos, her voice silenced, her limbs still. She bore witness to the madness, her mind ensnared within its chaos, forever lost to its depths.
submitted by cgstories to Odd_directions [link] [comments]
Mrs. Vilonte stood alone in the bathroom. In her hands, she cradled the urn containing her husband's ashes. The weight of it was surprisingly light, almost inconsequential, like the flutter of a moth's wing against her palm.
There was a tinge of sadness that grazed her heart. She had spent years by his side, experiencing the highs and lows of marriage. And now he was dead. The memorial service had been sparsely attended, with only a handful offering their condolences.
One photographer seemed overly eager to capture a shot of the grieving widow shedding a tear. But Mrs. Vilonte despised tears—seeing them, feeling them trickle down her face. The moment she felt her eyes sting and tears threatening to spill, she brushed them away before they had a chance to fall.
Now, the house was quiet. But mixed with that lingering sadness was a sense of relief, a subtle liberation that whispered to her from the shadows. He had betrayed her. His infidelity had cut deep.
She unscrewed the lid of the urn. The ashes inside seemed to shimmer in the faint light. Without hesitation, she emptied the contents into the toilet bowl and pulled the lever, watching as they spiraled downwards, swallowed by the rushing water.
XXXXXX
She once cherished two joys during her drives to Gabrielle's violin lessons. One was soaking in the serene landscape while indulging in her beloved soft jazz on the radio. The other was the comforting presence of her daughter beside her in the front passenger seat.
Now, she glanced at the vacant seat, and a wave of melancholy washed over her. Shaking off the emotion, she turned her attention back to the road, gripping the wheel tighter as she accelerated. After a stretch of driving, she eventually arrived at the mansion.
She had often wondered how the maestro accumulated such immense wealth. However, after meeting his benefactor and experiencing the allure of that wealth herself, she began to understand the price he had paid–the soul.
Was striking a deal with such a malevolent entity truly worth it? This question haunted her thoughts daily, and still, she had no definitive answer. The allure of luxury was intoxicating like the addictive sweetness of sugar. The more she indulged in it, the stronger her craving became, leaving her caught in a cycle of desire and uncertainty.
The mansion was as elegant and grand as she remembered. In the front yard, a splendid water fountain glistened under the sunlight. Surrounding the mansion was a manicured garden bloomed with vibrant colors and lush foliage.
Before stepping out of the car, she pulled a handgun from the glove compartment and carefully concealed it in her purse. Today was the day she planned to confront him, intent on demanding him to undo the unfortunate turn her life had taken.
The front door was unlocked and it swung open effortlessly as she entered. It slammed shut behind her without her even touching it, and there was no wind to explain it.
“Ah, Mrs. Vilonte,” a familiar male voice greeted warmly, “It's been far too long since our last meeting. You look lovely as ever!”
She looked up to see the young Salerno, leaning casually against the railing at the top of the split staircase. His smirking face drew a scowl from her. She resented his mocking compliment about her looking “lovely as ever.” She wore the same black dress she'd worn since her husband's memorial, now creased from sleep and carrying a faint scent of dried scotch.
“You've had your fun, Salerno,” she retorted, her voice tinged with restrained anger. "I shouldn't have broken our agreement, and I've learned my lesson.”
“Have you?”
“Yes, and I assure you, it won't happen again.”
“So, what can I do for you?”
“I want my life back.”
Salerno's face was solemn, shrouded in silence. Unexpectedly, he erupted into mocking laughter.
“That's not the nature of consequences, my dear,” he remarked. “You must live with what you've done. Forgiveness is not in my nature.
“You've stripped me of my wealth–”
“It wasn't yours to begin with.”
“I have nothing left!”
“Oh, that isn't completely true. You still have your family.”
“You've torn my family apart! My husband is gone, my son imprisoned and now my daughter, too! You've taken her from me.”
“But soon you'll be reunited.”
“What do you mean?”
He motioned for her to ascend the stairs. “You've arrived just in time to witness something miraculous. Something beautiful!”
Confusion clouded Mrs. Vilonte's face until she heard an agonized moan coming from an upstairs room, followed by a cry she knew all too well.
“Gabrielle,” she gasped.
Salerno nodded. “You're about to be a grandmother to another child.”
The haunting images from the field of mirrors flooded back. The abomination—a monstrous entity—was on the brink of entering their world, and who knew what kind of hell it would bring. Suddenly, a powerful force propelled her towards the stairs, her movements no longer under her control. Before she knew it, she stood face to face with Salerno on the top landing. His grin exposed jagged, menacing teeth, and his eyes were pools of darkness. With talon-like fingers, he grasped her shoulders, their sharp points piercing her skin.
He led her into the master bedroom, where Gabrielle lay in a fitful sleep on a queen-size bed, her movements restless. Her eyes were closed, and sweat had matted her hair to her head. Beside her sat Victoria, whose skin showed signs of decay, and she moved with a robotic, disjointed motion as she wiped the sweat from Gabrielle's face with a cloth. When Victoria moved aside, Mrs. Vilonte shivered, finding herself staring into Victoria's empty, hollow eye sockets.
Salerno leaned in close to her ear, his voice a low whisper as he said, “My children are everywhere, and this newborn will join them, serving me in this world. You should feel honored to be part of something extraordinary, something greater than yourself.”
Slipping free from his hold, she quickly made her way to her daughter's bedside, sweeping aside stray locks from her face. The moment her fingers made contact with her skin, Gabrielle began to calm down.
“Gabby, it's Mom,” she whispered gently, a wave of relief washing over her as her daughter's eyes fluttered open in response.
“Did you enjoy the concert, Mom?” Gabrielle asked, faintly.
“Well, it was an unforgettable performance, that's for sure.”
“Didn’t I do a phenomenal job?”
“Let's talk about it when we get home.”
“Home?”
“Yes, you're coming home with me now.”
“I can't... the baby is going to arrive soon,” Gabrielle gasped, her voice strained with pain. "It hurts too much to move.”
“You’ll have to endure it! We need to get out of here!”
Mrs. Vilonte tossed aside the blanket and firmly grasped her arm, pulling her out of the bed. Gabrielle staggered and lost her footing, sliding down onto the floor. She reached for the edge of the bed, trying to soften her sudden fall.
“Run, run, but wherever you hide,” Salerno sang, “you'll never escape this hell.”
Mrs. Vilonte quickly drew the handgun from her purse, aiming it at him as he approached. Her eyes darted between Salerno and Victoria, the gun wavering between the two.
“Stay back! Just let us go.”
Salerno chuckled. “Mrs. Vilonte, really now? Violence won't solve your problems.”
A deafening bang echoed through the room. He staggered back, pressing a hand to his belly as blood began to seep through his white shirt. His mouth opened, releasing a plume of black smoke that coalesced into the silhouette of a large goat standing upright on its hind legs.
The creature glared at her with red eyes before the smoke dissipated. Then, as if the inevitable march of age had finally caught up to him within seconds, his vitality began to wane. His once smooth skin transformed into a web of wrinkles. His dark eyes dimmed, replaced by a cloudy haze. His jet-black hair turned a shocking shade of white, contrasting starkly with the pallor of his skin. His cheeks began to sink.
Salerno, aged and frail, sank to the floor, his hand stubbornly pressed against his wound as if hoping to halt the flow of blood. “Run, run, but wherever you hide, you'll never escape this hell.”
Mrs. Vilonte seized her daughter's arm, hauling her upright, all the while keeping the gun trained between Salerno and Victoria. Victoria lay collapsed on the floor, reduced to a heap of decomposed skin devoid of bones and muscle.
A deep rumble echoed through the room, causing it to tremble and sway. Cracks snaked across the walls, paint peeling away in tattered sheets. Twisting, blood-red vines crept from the fractures, weaving their way across walls and ceiling. Acting quickly, Mrs. Vilonte seized Gabrielle, who had collapsed to the floor, teeth clenched in pain from another surge of agony. She pulled her up by the arm, forcing her to her feet and pushing her towards the door.
The mansion, once a symbol of pride when she'd taken her daughter for the maestro’s lessons, was transforming into a nightmarish scene. Blood oozed from the decaying walls, while a noxious sulfuric odor filled the air, nearly suffocating Mrs. Vilonte and making each breath a struggle.
She didn't pause for rest or allow Gabrielle a moment to catch her breath until they were safely out of the house and speeding away in the car, putting as much distance as possible between them and the area.
“Mom, stop the car,” Gabrielle groaned in pain from the back seat.
“Hold on tight, honey. We'll go to the nearest hospital.”
“I can't wait anymore!”
“It won't be long. Twenty minutes.”
“I can feel the baby wanting to come out.”
Mrs. Vilonte looked up at the rearview mirror, where she saw Gabrielle's sweaty face scrunched up in pain, gripping her rounded belly with both hands.
“I know this isn’t easy,” she said, “but you need to hold out a little longer. We'll be at the hospital very soon.”
“STOP THE CAR!”
The car came to a sudden stop, jolting Mrs. Vilonte forward and almost throwing Gabrielle off from her seat.
“The baby is coming! Mom, help me!” Gabrielle cried.
“The baby…”
Mrs. Vilonte couldn't shake the thought that this creature couldn't possibly be human. The horrifying acts that it could be capable of frightened her, and the idea that it shared a bloodline with her sickened her even more. Her hand moved to the handgun resting on the passenger seat beside her, considering the one extreme solution she could think of for such an unusual situation.
It wasn't ideal, but she saw no other option.
She took hold of the gun and stepped out of the car, approaching the rear passenger side. Opening the door, she found her daughter propped on her elbows, lifting her dress to reveal the widening canal. Gabrielle let out a menacing growl as she pushed.
Mrs. Vilonte crouched to inspect closer, and instantly felt the unsettling, malevolent presence. The entity seemed to be trying to claw its way out from the depths of the abyss. It inched towards the light, its growls growing louder like a ravenous animal. As Gabrielle pushed further, its red, snouted face broke through, its eyes snapping open to lock onto hers with an intense, black-eyed glare.
Startled, she stumbled back, her hands grasping for the handgun that had slipped from her trembling fingers. As she aimed at the creature before her, an unseen force encircled her hands. She fought to maintain control, but the force twisted the weapon, redirecting it towards her. Suddenly, she found herself staring down the barrel of her gun.
The trees came alive with a flurry of motion as a group of birds took flight, their wings beating frantically against the sky. The once-quiet canopy echoed with the sound of panicked chirps and the movement of feathers, as the startled birds scattered in all directions, seeking refuge from the sudden disturbance caused by a blast.
XXXXX
In the forest of another realm, beyond the physical world, her skin melded seamlessly with the tree's bark, as vines snaked their way around her, ensnaring her limbs. Fungi blossomed from her mouth, rendering her voiceless as her tongue was entwined.
The goat-like creature approached her, brandishing a small mirror, coercing her to confront her distorted reflection. Little remained of her once recognizable features. Worms and roaches had taken residence in the hollow cavity where her nose and right eye had been. With her one remaining eye, she gazed into the mirror, waves of anguish coursing through her being as she beheld the grim reflection of what she had transformed into.
Then, as her ghastly reflection faded, a young man with dark hair and eyes as deep as coal materialized, wearing a black suit, standing with poise on a stage, holding up a violin. Upon closer look, she realized it to be the very violin Gabrielle had once owned.
“Behold what my child has become,” the entity proclaimed. “Are you not as proud of him as I am?”
XXXXX
A bright light beamed down on the young man standing center stage, his violin poised in his hands. His fingers glided over the strings, and with each passing note, the audience, their eyes fixed on him, was drawn deeper into his spell. It wrapped around the listeners' hearts and pulled them into a trance-like state. And as the last notes hung in the air, the audience were suspended in silence and left breathless. Then, they leaped to their feet in thunderous applause.
With a twisted smile, he relished the adulation. He knew he had sway over them, puppet master of their actions. He could simply issue a command, and they would eagerly comply, ready to enact his darkest fantasies. He imagined directing his willing servants to get up on the roof of a towering building and leap into the abyss below, willingly offering themselves as sacrifices.
He envisioned chaos unleashed upon the streets, cars overturned, windows shattered, and buildings engulfed in flames. All at his behest. The world lay at his fingertips, ripe for manipulation and destruction, as he thought about the countless ways he could bring about humanity’s demise.
After his final bow, the young man turned to face the audience, expressing heartfelt thanks for their attendance, eliciting both laughter and warm affection from the crowd. But, amidst the resounding applause, one figure remained still in the front row, confined to a wheelchair. He stared straight at her face which was hidden behind a thin black veil.
Though her body remained motionless in the chair, incapable of even the slightest movement, her one good eye was very much alive, fully engaged with her surroundings. And there was something else in her gaze. He could sense it from the stage, and it made him chuckle. It was an aroma he found intoxicating – the unmistakable stench of fear, seeping from every pore like primal pheromones.
The audience clamored for an encore, yearning to satisfy their insatiable thirst for more music. Their fervent cries echoed through tears. Lifting his violin once more, he hushed the audience with a single motion. The moment the red bow touched the strings, pandemonium broke loose. The spectators lost all self-control, leaping from their seats, clutching their heads, and tearing at their hair in a wild frenzy. They were completely entranced, surrendered to the power of the music.
As his crescendo intensified, a raging fire surged within them, mirrored by the frantic speed of his fingers on the strings. With each chord, they tore at their garments, sinking nails and teeth into one another's flesh. Chaos exploded, mingling with the scent of blood and the sound of rending flesh.
Mrs. Vilonte remained seated in her wheelchair, an impassive observer amidst the chaos, her voice silenced, her limbs still. She bore witness to the madness, her mind ensnared within its chaos, forever lost to its depths.
2024.05.08 01:43 iamanartistama Kzen type heat.
"KZen Type Heat" by DNFM, do not fear me.
[Intro: Woman] K, K, K, Zen drop the beat...
[Verse 1: DNFM]
Took my life out at the end, Now I'm in a graveyard, tied down pinned. Will the devil send another angel for me? Could I fuck it up now that I can't see?
..let's pretend...
Now the chance is how I operate, Stick the gun up to your face, And pray the pious life I lead will protect the devil from me. shout out to My lil' cuz in the l.b.c. rip homie, leprechaun life tonight be free.
..Let's see...
Crips down my alley look like they wanna say 'sup to me, But I'm in my ride now, strapped down lately. Without leather or cowboy hats, I'm ready, heavy Locked and loaded, every corner with my homies' backs to the wall while I creep.
..Don't freak...
[Chorus: DNFM]
Take a look at what I'm after, don't peep, Green in the bag and drop to your knees. Let it fall to the floor, I won't let you bleed, In and out like I'm mr.clean, prepare your mama for what she gonna be. Do you wanna be in the papers or fly like me?
[news reporter ]: "homicidal maniac continues spree, police unable to breathe"
[Verse 2: KZen]
I'm the K, K, K, Zen master, Raise your heads in honor if you want to speak to me. I got the letters in my box, leave em on read, Don't need another baby in my life i already got beef. I know what you see is like alchemy in lyrical form, just free.
I'm the infinite magician, the wizard king, the reason you got nowhere in life, The Z, Z, Z at the end of every dictionary.
[Verse 3: DNFM]
I'm the psycho killer on the beat, DNFM - Do. Not. Fear. Me. I'm the monster in your bed but I don't make it creak, I'm the reason you pee in silence, the reason you close your eyes at the deep I'm the darkness of reality, the echo of nothing. Donnie Darko worships at my feet, my twisted mind's his sacred shrine where darkness and light never meet.
I'm the Frankenberry that talks to you in every bowl you eat, The schizo weapon you hide between your cheeks, The razor's edge of everything, Do not fear me, I'm standing here just to read, your emotions are like ripe berries for me to eat.
[Bridge: DNFM as alien voice persona]
Fuck the best, I'm the owner of of of the test, You all answer to me, teach me a lesson in biology. I'm the illegal alien, the spice in the air when you can't breathe, try to deport me, I got all the letters bitches send me, Tagged down big daddy papa heart heart teehee.
[Verse 4: KZen & DNFM]
I'm the dog in the alley with a stick like you've never seen, Don't bark if you wanna fetch what's in between, Lick it like a candy cane and I'll make you wish it didnt cream, It's going in and out of your throat while you try to scream.
I'm sure I'd be more gentle like I am with ya mami inside her heat Lickin' on her goodies like I'm the thing, over her tits and up her dress, I'm King Kong, long-dicked, Kaizen beat-maker, kid clean.
[Outro: DNFM as yaqui warrior]
Last name first name last, Johnson, Carey Every time I get on the scene, I make it seem like you gotta scream, I'm the native you never got to be, the heart of every warriors scheme The intoxicating figure that drives you insane when you hear me sing, But I bet I could make you free, dont fuck with d n f m baby Just take my hand into the ever after, it's darker than it seems.
Goodbye to the ladies in my mirror, I saw em get out of the tub already clean, I'm a psycho-actively destructive motha fucka, My mind is like a chamber of endless screams... I'm ready to show you every door, You don't have to knock to three, Just tap me out before you enter my soul, guess my genes? It's up to you to feel the moment, enter the room and steal a minute to see.
Don't forget to check under your bed and up every tree, I'm like a magnet, with no recall, I'm the wicked kid with a quick finga, blowin' up every lid, sittn down eat, dippin in every little tit bitches slit The kind of shit that bothers you don't me, i have no ethics for mortality Supreme on my back, see my bling? i make you dance to my tracks, fuck you, pay me.
Don't matter to me how many shades of red I spray, They all get covered by sheets, A - K - 4 - 7 under every seat banana mag in my pants but don't try to scope my band, im harder than god or the devil on ecstacy, No matter how many diamonds shine on your neck or Mercedes S-Class you pretend to be, Up in the trees or down under my feet, ---claw your way to the top...--- I'm the undertaker of your god's reality, Buried deep or broken in despair, raise ya twisted fingers in the air, oxygen like T.H.C., west side for life, bang with me, bang with me, bang with me if... Clouds burst out of your chest like you're gonna turn green, Get down, get down, I got the monopoly on evil lately, lately, late-ly.
Don't fuck with me. Kz got the heat, red dot pointed at the back of my head if i dont feed, blood spilled every chick i thrill call me the next big thing, the dope - dealer of sweet dreams, the object of affection in every girls diary, dont have beef? if you want on my record just sign your name on the line and kiss my ring, dragons den made offers for what my coffin clearly means, endless life for you, not me, i dine on your ashes wether you want me to or not, baby, im the tyrant of the seas, lucifer my biggest enemy, end the light bringers judgment on our dark shadows blurred entropy, im better when i dont sleep d n f m do not fear me drop the bag i won the lottery.
submitted by iamanartistama to careychancejohnson [link] [comments]
[Intro: Woman] K, K, K, Zen drop the beat...
[Verse 1: DNFM]
Took my life out at the end, Now I'm in a graveyard, tied down pinned. Will the devil send another angel for me? Could I fuck it up now that I can't see?
..let's pretend...
Now the chance is how I operate, Stick the gun up to your face, And pray the pious life I lead will protect the devil from me. shout out to My lil' cuz in the l.b.c. rip homie, leprechaun life tonight be free.
..Let's see...
Crips down my alley look like they wanna say 'sup to me, But I'm in my ride now, strapped down lately. Without leather or cowboy hats, I'm ready, heavy Locked and loaded, every corner with my homies' backs to the wall while I creep.
..Don't freak...
[Chorus: DNFM]
Take a look at what I'm after, don't peep, Green in the bag and drop to your knees. Let it fall to the floor, I won't let you bleed, In and out like I'm mr.clean, prepare your mama for what she gonna be. Do you wanna be in the papers or fly like me?
[news reporter ]: "homicidal maniac continues spree, police unable to breathe"
[Verse 2: KZen]
I'm the K, K, K, Zen master, Raise your heads in honor if you want to speak to me. I got the letters in my box, leave em on read, Don't need another baby in my life i already got beef. I know what you see is like alchemy in lyrical form, just free.
I'm the infinite magician, the wizard king, the reason you got nowhere in life, The Z, Z, Z at the end of every dictionary.
[Verse 3: DNFM]
I'm the psycho killer on the beat, DNFM - Do. Not. Fear. Me. I'm the monster in your bed but I don't make it creak, I'm the reason you pee in silence, the reason you close your eyes at the deep I'm the darkness of reality, the echo of nothing. Donnie Darko worships at my feet, my twisted mind's his sacred shrine where darkness and light never meet.
I'm the Frankenberry that talks to you in every bowl you eat, The schizo weapon you hide between your cheeks, The razor's edge of everything, Do not fear me, I'm standing here just to read, your emotions are like ripe berries for me to eat.
[Bridge: DNFM as alien voice persona]
Fuck the best, I'm the owner of of of the test, You all answer to me, teach me a lesson in biology. I'm the illegal alien, the spice in the air when you can't breathe, try to deport me, I got all the letters bitches send me, Tagged down big daddy papa heart heart teehee.
[Verse 4: KZen & DNFM]
I'm the dog in the alley with a stick like you've never seen, Don't bark if you wanna fetch what's in between, Lick it like a candy cane and I'll make you wish it didnt cream, It's going in and out of your throat while you try to scream.
I'm sure I'd be more gentle like I am with ya mami inside her heat Lickin' on her goodies like I'm the thing, over her tits and up her dress, I'm King Kong, long-dicked, Kaizen beat-maker, kid clean.
[Outro: DNFM as yaqui warrior]
Last name first name last, Johnson, Carey Every time I get on the scene, I make it seem like you gotta scream, I'm the native you never got to be, the heart of every warriors scheme The intoxicating figure that drives you insane when you hear me sing, But I bet I could make you free, dont fuck with d n f m baby Just take my hand into the ever after, it's darker than it seems.
Goodbye to the ladies in my mirror, I saw em get out of the tub already clean, I'm a psycho-actively destructive motha fucka, My mind is like a chamber of endless screams... I'm ready to show you every door, You don't have to knock to three, Just tap me out before you enter my soul, guess my genes? It's up to you to feel the moment, enter the room and steal a minute to see.
Don't forget to check under your bed and up every tree, I'm like a magnet, with no recall, I'm the wicked kid with a quick finga, blowin' up every lid, sittn down eat, dippin in every little tit bitches slit The kind of shit that bothers you don't me, i have no ethics for mortality Supreme on my back, see my bling? i make you dance to my tracks, fuck you, pay me.
Don't matter to me how many shades of red I spray, They all get covered by sheets, A - K - 4 - 7 under every seat banana mag in my pants but don't try to scope my band, im harder than god or the devil on ecstacy, No matter how many diamonds shine on your neck or Mercedes S-Class you pretend to be, Up in the trees or down under my feet, ---claw your way to the top...--- I'm the undertaker of your god's reality, Buried deep or broken in despair, raise ya twisted fingers in the air, oxygen like T.H.C., west side for life, bang with me, bang with me, bang with me if... Clouds burst out of your chest like you're gonna turn green, Get down, get down, I got the monopoly on evil lately, lately, late-ly.
Don't fuck with me. Kz got the heat, red dot pointed at the back of my head if i dont feed, blood spilled every chick i thrill call me the next big thing, the dope - dealer of sweet dreams, the object of affection in every girls diary, dont have beef? if you want on my record just sign your name on the line and kiss my ring, dragons den made offers for what my coffin clearly means, endless life for you, not me, i dine on your ashes wether you want me to or not, baby, im the tyrant of the seas, lucifer my biggest enemy, end the light bringers judgment on our dark shadows blurred entropy, im better when i dont sleep d n f m do not fear me drop the bag i won the lottery.
2024.05.08 00:40 Johnwestrick Shadows in the Night
The nonstop pitter-patter of the cold rain against my bedroom window set the mood. I found myself rubbing my eyes, unable to follow the now swaying lines. My book was a jumbled mess of dyslexic text. I spent another minute trying to decipher the words, but my exhausted state of mind could not put meaning to them. I folded the top right corner of the page and gingerly placed Bram Stoker’s, Dracula, back on the windowsill.
I must've dozed off at some point because I found myself dreaming. Eyes. Red eyes the size of saucer plates peered into the depths of my soul. No matter how hard I tried to look away, I could not break the gaze. I felt as if I was staring into the abyss itself, a black hole pulling me into its inky embrace. That peculiar dream held me captive for God only knows how long.
The fear was overwhelming. It held me fast, like quicksand I found myself descending into the blackness. It was the first rays of light that finally broke my standstill, as if my body was frozen solid and the warmth of the sun was slowly dethawing my bones. I remained sitting in my armchair for a moment, letting the effects of the queer dream wash over me.
Finally, my mind began to return to a semblance of normality. I glanced outside to see the sun dancing happily in the orange and yellow of the fall leaves. My heart leapt at this sight. Shortly with the resilience of youth, I found myself forgetting entirely about the uncanny daydream. With a shout of glee, I found myself barreling down the staircase three at a time. No longer a care in the world, rushing towards blind adventure.
In school we had been reading Robert Louis Stevenson’s, Treasure Island, and I had been convinced there was buried treasure somewhere in my backyard. My first attempt was a five-foot deep pit. The buried treasure wasn't found, but I did succeed in severing our sprinkler system. The hole was shortly filled with water, and my parents put a stop to my digging efforts. At least it put a stop to my digging in the yard. I was too stubborn to give up on my dreams of finding pirate treasure to entirely stop.
I went into my dad’s shop, pilfered a flat head shovel and trekked down the trail where I could resume my search without my parents' oversight. Looking for the tell-tale signs of pirate interference, I found myself wandering off the beaten path. That is when I saw it. It was the largest oak tree I’ve ever seen. Massive, barren branches loomed over me like the hands of a twisted god. For some reason, that daydream came back to the forefront of my mind.
With the clarity of scared eyes, I saw a rickety cross held together by ancient twine fraying at the ends. A spark of excitement burned away all my concerns. Quickly, I clambered down the hill to the base of that giant oak to get a better look at the marker. At closer inspection, I saw one name carved into the base of the cross. It said, “Victor P. Alexandre.” It didn’t sound like a pirate's name, but still it was worth investigating. After all, one place was as good as another.
That first day, I shoveled loose dirt and clay for nearly 8 hours. The hole was larger and deeper than I had ever managed in the past. Even still, I found nothing. No buried treasure. No time capsule. Nothing of interest whatsoever. I was on the verge of giving up, when my shovel suddenly hit with a clink. Uncaring, I threw it aside and slowly began to sift through the loose dirt. To my utter shock, my hands felt a smooth surface.
Using the water from my bottle I washed the dirt away, scrubbing it clean with my hands. The surface was white as bone, yet it was flat. At closer glance, I realized it was smooth marble. My heart was beating fast. If this wasn't hidden treasure, God only knew what else it could be. That second day, I dug like my life depended on it. The marble slab was bigger than I had expected, already I had exposed nearly four feet of it. The day was growing short, and the shadows had been growing longer, yet even still, I found myself scouring that slab.
Right before the day turned to night, my hand ran across a large padlock. One of those old-fashioned, cast-iron locks. The heavy ones. It was rusted and the metal was beginning to flake, but still, I couldn't break it. I tried to smash it off with the pointed end of the shovel, yet it resisted my attempts. I heard my mother's voice calling to me.
I went scurrying towards the sound of her voice, doing my best to brush clean the dirt off my arms and legs. I mustn't have done a good job, because as her suspicious eyes fell upon me, I saw disappointment flash in them.
She looked me up and down and said, “Jack Dempsey, did you cut any more sprinkler lines this time?”
With a sheepish grin I responded, “No ma’am.”
She gestured towards the bathroom and said, “Wash up before your father sees.”
Immediately I obeyed, not wanting to push my luck. The rest of the night was uneventful. I slept like a babe. It was the last full night’s sleep I’ve had since, the final night not plagued by monsters and nightmares.
I was woken by the first tentative rays of the morning light. The excitement of my find robbed me of my ability to sleep in. It was a Saturday morning and not a cloud was in sight. The wind was blowing in playful gusts tugging at my hair and the folds of my clothes. It was the sort of morning I'd dedicate to the flying of kites, yet today something else had my full attention. My mind raced at 100 miles per hour, fantasizing of all the possibilities. What lies under the marble floor? It must be something of great value to be buried so deep and guarded by such a lock. I thought that perhaps it was a treasure cove, hidden by conquistadors. Maybe it was a secret entrance to a hidden civilization. The possibilities were endless, only limited by my willingness to imagine.
My idea was simple. If I couldn't break it off with brute force, then I'd cut it off with a grinder in my dad’s shed. To my great amusement I had seen him cut off the heavy lock I used for my bike when I lost the key a year prior. Luck was on my side that day, or perhaps it was misfortune.
With a hollow thump, I leapt carelessly down into the hole. Those eyes flashed feverishly bright into my mind. The sudden feeling of fear almost made me clamber back the way I came. As suddenly as it came, it passed.
The curiosity of a ten-year-old was too great for any reservations I might’ve had. Within moments, I found myself cutting away. The grinder cut through the metal as if it was butter, showering the pearly white marble with orange sparks. A thunderclap brought me back to my senses. With a start, I nearly dropped the still spinning grinder. I looked up to see thick, black clouds beginning to roll their way towards me. It wasn't supposed to rain today. Yet, the inky blackness barreled towards me blocking the sun’s brilliant rays.
The light all around me seemed to dim. It felt as if time itself fast forwarded, stranding me in dusk. It was eerie, and a little shiver erupted all over my body. The storm seemed to be triggered by the cutting of the lock. But that's not possible; it can't be possible. Yet even so, I couldn't divert my mind from this line of thought. It was preposterous, but there was no storm before and now there is.
I heard a grinding, crunching noise and felt the slab beneath my feet begin to slide open. To my horror, I felt the ground give way, and then I slid into pitch darkness. I rolled a couple of feet and ended up sprawled on my back. The darkness down there was almost complete, except a single ray of light that peeked through the opening of the marble slab. I saw nothing down there, but I couldn't shake the feeling as if I was being watched. It felt as if the darkness had eyes peering at me from all sides.
I didn’t remain down there long. I couldn’t take the silence anymore. I kept imagining Dracula staring at me from the comfort of the shadows, his heart remaining eternally still. No need for it to beat, when one is already dead. I clambered up the steep incline as if my life depended on it, for all I knew it did. I didn’t stop running until I was safely in my room under my bed. I know it was silly, but I couldn't shake the feeling as if I narrowly escaped death.
I determined that tomorrow morning I would refill the hole and never look at that marble slab again. Now with a plan of action set into place, my fear began to lessen. When my parents finally made it back home to fix supper, I had forgotten about my near-death experience. I ate my meatloaf and broccoli and had a large bowl of ice cream, while I watched SpongeBob on the television.
When bedtime came, I didn’t even argue with my parents about staying up later. I did something that night that I had never done before. I grabbed my mom's hand pulling her down to me and kissed her directly on the forehead, then I walked to my dad and repeated the sentiment. I looked each of them in their eyes and said, “You guys are the best parents a child could ask for. I want you to know I love you.” Tears welled up in my mom’s eyes and even my dad looked close to waterworks. Something happened in the silence that preceded. Our relationship matured. I had seen them and accepted them as the individuals they were, not as the parents who exist for my well being. We had looked into each other's eyes and acknowledged one another.
I think fondly of this memory, and I thank God that I had this one final moment to make known all that my childish mind thought but didn't have the ability to put into words. It was a tender moment, and it was the last time I saw my parents breathing.
I fell asleep almost the moment my head hit the pillow. It was a deep sleep, the kind in which there are no dreams. The kind that leaves you well rested and excited for the next day. But it wasn't the morning when I woke up.
This watch of the night goes by many names; the dead of night, the witching hour, midnight, the time the moon goes to rest. They all mean the same thing; it's the period in which the night is darkest, and the hope of morning is nearly nonexistent. This is the time owned by the nightmares, where the boogey man walks freely.
It was a gentle tapping on my window that awoke me. My body became stiff, and I couldn't move. Fear paralyzed me and I lay in my bed, senses hyper alert. I remained there hoping it was a branch against the window but knowing better. The window in my room was directly above my head. With very little effort I could be certain of the cause of the sound. I didn’t want to be certain. I'd rather lay trying my best to convince myself it was caused by some ordinary means, than look and see the glowing red eyes of Dracula.
And in one way or another, I knew it was him. I was certain I’d look up and see his pale face shining as pristine as the marble slab that must be his resting place. As the night crawled along, the scratching only got louder until it was nearly deafening. It was then that my curiosity got the best of me. I couldn’t fight the urge any longer. It was like a scratch your mom told you not to itch; the more you thought about it, the harder it was to ignore. My eyes flung wide, and I looked up.
I could hardly believe what they saw. There on the other side of the glass was my old kite, the red and blue one that came loose and flew away a few weeks ago. I thought my fear would ease learning the source of the awful sound, but there I remained unable to get those red eyes out of my mind. The kite didn’t help persuade me of the silliness of my fears, in fact, it solidified them, as if it gave some sort of credence.
My alarm clock on my nightstand ticked slowly, and I watched as the digital numbers changed. Each minute seemed to take hours. Slowly the night’s grasp yielded to the onslaught of the coming day. The darkness faded leaving pockets of thick shadow cast by the steady rising of the orange sliver on the horizon. Even these strongholds of the night were unable to stand in the face of such an overwhelming adversary, and shortly I was left in the shining light of morning.
I made a decision while I was warring with my fear. I was going to tell my parents about the marble slab and what I had done. They would know what to do. In fact, they would probably tease me for letting it scare me, but at that point I didn’t care. I would have welcomed the lighthearted jokes made at my expense. It would mean my fears weren't reasonable ones. All would go back to normal, and I’d be another kid who had a silly nightmare.
The nightmare began in my parents' bedroom. I barged into their room hoping to receive the comfort I so needed. I found everything but comfort there. The room was entirely normal, except it lacked the presence of my sleeping parents. They were gone. I went into their bathroom thinking they might’ve gotten up early. It was empty. As I made my way back into the room, I noticed the window nearest their bed was open. Lying on the windowsill was an enormous droplet of blood.
My heart dropped and I knew exactly where they’d be. Dracula hadn’t intended to get me; he wanted my parents. The kite was a distraction, a way to settle my rational mind. I was right to fear, if only I had feared enough to run straight to my parents' room. Would things be different now? I think they might. In my book, belief was the only way to combat vampires, and children have a knack for it. He must've known I'd never let him in my room. But tonight, he can come freely for me.
My parents. I failed them. No, I killed them. I never should've opened that door. I should've buried the hatch closed the moment I saw it. Of course, it was a grave. It had the marker above it and all. I’m an idiot, a God’s damned fool. The marker. What did it say on it? “Victor P. Alexandre.” So, this isn't Dracula after all, but in a way he still is. He can be killed the same way.
It took me the remainder of the day to gather the required materials. I found garlic cloves in the spice cabinet, my family are catholic, so it was no difficulty finding a cross, the thing that took me the longest was making the wooden stakes. In the end, I used the legs of our kitchen table filed down to a nasty point. As an afterthought, I grabbed the massive padlock my dad used on his shed sometimes. It never hurts to have a backup.
I followed the blood droplets of my parents to the hole I dug. I remained staring down at the marble slab, now drenched in my family’s life blood, unable to move from the spot. I watched in horror as the sun slowly began to make its descent, knowing that my chance was slipping between my fingers. A thought occurred to me. What if my parents are down there? Will I be able to look them in the face while I slide a stake through their heart?
Call it what you want, but a few minutes before the sun sank behind the horizon, a metallic glint caught my eyes. At closer examination, it was the little silver cross necklace my mom always wore. This spurred me into action, as if someone poked me with a red-hot brand. It burned my fears away and left me with a numb sense of responsibility.
Without a second thought I launched myself down into the hole scooping up my mom’s pendant and ignited the flashlight. I didn’t have much time; the sun was falling. The shadows were lengthening. My heart beat a steady staccato against the inner walls of my chest. I was scared my damn heartbeat would wake the creatures giving me away. But I didn't have time to worry, so I didn’t. In a clarity unlike anything I've experienced before or since, I made my way through the opening of the sepulcher.
As I moved forward, I couldn’t help but think that I had been swallowed alive by some mythic monster. Jonah in the belly of the whale, I suppose. The darkness closed in on me and the faint glow cast by my flashlight only went about 4 feet in front of me. It looked as if I was in a catacomb. Urns and vases lined the walls on each side of me. Every few feet or so was a nook that held an empty casket. Panic seized my limbs, threatening to lock them up for good. What if he’s behind me or hiding in one of those alcoves? I was afraid to breathe or make any sudden noises. Thoughts of waking him and having to face him upright nearly stopped me in my tracks.
It was the sound of my parents' voices that pushed me forward. They gave me the resolve to see this thing through. I heard my mom tell me, “If not you, then who?” and the strong voice of my father admonishing me, “Do the right thing, even if it’s hard.” And so, I kept moving one step at a time, my footsteps being muffled by the suffocating blackness. Before I knew it, I was there looking at three closed caskets.
There was a grand coffin in the middle, the others were near the two side walls. I knew immediately which one would contain Viktor. I walked straight to it, then hesitated and opened the one against the right wall. My mom was in it. She looked to be sleeping, nothing out of the ordinary besides two small puncture marks on the side of her throat. The coffin against the left wall held my dad. Tears filled my eyes, and I knew they had been turned. I stood there, a stake in my hand, not quite able to plunge it deep into the heart of the woman who gave birth to me.
I closed the casket, making my way to the coffin of the monster who took my parents. I looked forward to shoving a stake through his heart, and as I opened the lid a wicked smile was plastered on my face. The smile evaporated the moment I looked and saw that it was empty. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. I heard rich laughter echoing down the hallway directly behind me.
“I must admit, you've surprised me. I’ve had fools rush in here before trying to kill me, but usually they are glory seekers. This is a first. I’ve never come across a child brave enough to meet me in the dark,” purred Viktor in a smooth, slightly European accent.
Maybe it was the anger, maybe it was my body being unable to process the fear; regardless, my voice came out strong and confident, when I said, “And that’s why I’ll succeed, where others failed.”
Viktor began laughing, wiping tears from his eyes. “May I know the name of the person who will be the death of me?” asked the vampire, a cruel smile beginning to form on the pale landscape of his face.
“The name is Jack Dempsey and those people you killed last night were my parents.”
“Ahh, I see. It’s rage that brings you down into my domain. Your anger may have temporarily burned your fear away, but before I am done with you, it will come crawling back. I will make you envious of the stillborn. Your blood will bring me back to full strength,” snarled Viktor.
Mouth running unchecked, I shot back, “I don’t need to be an adult to put a stake through your cowardly heart. After all, I’m not the one who locked himself away, too scared of being bested.”
“I wasn’t hiding you fool; I was locked in here by foes much cleverer than yourself. They weren’t stupid enough to think they could take me on their own. They locked the entrance and buried my whole sepulcher, until you haphazardly released me,” said the vampire.
I gulped knowing that he was at least partially correct. I had released him, and my parents were the ones who paid the price. This was my cross to carry. My mess to fix. By God, I was resolved to see this thing through till the end.
Without warning I lobbed a whole clove of garlic directly at his face. The creature ungodly fast swatted it away with one hand, hissing as it made direct contact with his skin. I saw a nasty burn appear suddenly on the flesh of that hand. I had time for a moment of triumph, before the creature blurred towards me.
He struck me with the back of his hand sending me sprawling into the coffin that held my mother. I heard a bone crack in my ribs when I made contact. Pain filled my body, and I cried out. This seemed to please the vampire as he slowly stalked towards me, my backpack filled with supplies held in his left hand. The stake I had been holding flew out of my hand when he hit me, and I was left with nothing to stop his advance.
He knew this too; I saw it in the smug smile he wore across his face. It was done, my parents died because of me. I couldn’t even get revenge on their killer. I had failed them. And now, this creature was going to rip me apart slowly, enjoying every moment of it.
My mom’s voice cut through all my fears, and I heard her say, “I gave you my necklace, now kill this motherfucker.”
My hand reached to my neck, and I felt the comfort of the cold silver against my skin. With one smooth motion I pulled it off, concealing it in my left hand. I knew I’d have to time it right. I would get only one chance at this, I had to make it count. The element of surprise was working in my favor, but even still the creature was fast as hell. I’d have to let him get close, painfully close before I struck.
I gave him what he desired most, I pleaded for my life. “Please, I didn’t mean it. Have mercy on me. I’ll serve you. I’ll do anything you need me to. I let you out, didn’t I?”
Viktor smiled a smile filled with pointed teeth. I shuttered; it wasn’t hard to act. I truly was terrified. This seemed to please him. He laid his well-manicured hands on my shoulder, holding me like a father holds his son.
“You have been very helpful to me; I can think of one way you can be even more useful,” said Viktor.
He leaned in almost as if he was going to kiss me, then at the last moment he bent his head back as if he was a snake preparing to strike. I expected him to do this, and with one fluid motion I shoved the crucifix directly down the throat of the creature. His sharp teeth cut my hand into ribbons, but the moment the silver touched his throat it erupted in blue flames. I watched in fascination as the vampire's head began to melt, then disintegrate. Within about thirty seconds the entire body of the vampire was reduced to ashes.
My mom’s necklace remained sitting on top of the pile of ash. I reached down and pocketed it. I breathed a sigh of relief, then I looked at the other two caskets. Tears made my vision swim. This is impossible. How am I supposed to kill the people who raised me?
I opened my mom’s casket again; she looked so beautiful laying in perfect peace. They looked happier than they had in years. The wrinkles beginning to form under her eyes were gone, smooth skin replaced it. Bottle that formula and sell it. For one low price of drinking a vampire's blood, you too can have skin that shines bright in the moonlight.
Something caught my eye. I looked down at the now torn backpack and saw the massive padlock I had taken from my dad’s shed. An idea sprung into my mind. Maybe I don’t have to kill them. I can lock them up and re-bury them. The night was nearly here, and a decision needed to be made. In a moment of weakness, I chose.
It was well past midnight when I finished packing the rest of the loose dirt back into the hole. Shortly after I started, I could hear a clawing noise coming from within. I didn’t so much as stop for a water break. When the hole was half filled, I couldn’t hear the cries of my parents anymore. Although I do hear them in my dreams sometimes.
The moon was hidden behind rain clouds, making it difficult to see. In my mad scramble out of the catacombs, I dropped my flashlight. I began my long trek back home, no longer fearing the shadows in the night.
submitted by Johnwestrick to nosleep [link] [comments]
I must've dozed off at some point because I found myself dreaming. Eyes. Red eyes the size of saucer plates peered into the depths of my soul. No matter how hard I tried to look away, I could not break the gaze. I felt as if I was staring into the abyss itself, a black hole pulling me into its inky embrace. That peculiar dream held me captive for God only knows how long.
The fear was overwhelming. It held me fast, like quicksand I found myself descending into the blackness. It was the first rays of light that finally broke my standstill, as if my body was frozen solid and the warmth of the sun was slowly dethawing my bones. I remained sitting in my armchair for a moment, letting the effects of the queer dream wash over me.
Finally, my mind began to return to a semblance of normality. I glanced outside to see the sun dancing happily in the orange and yellow of the fall leaves. My heart leapt at this sight. Shortly with the resilience of youth, I found myself forgetting entirely about the uncanny daydream. With a shout of glee, I found myself barreling down the staircase three at a time. No longer a care in the world, rushing towards blind adventure.
In school we had been reading Robert Louis Stevenson’s, Treasure Island, and I had been convinced there was buried treasure somewhere in my backyard. My first attempt was a five-foot deep pit. The buried treasure wasn't found, but I did succeed in severing our sprinkler system. The hole was shortly filled with water, and my parents put a stop to my digging efforts. At least it put a stop to my digging in the yard. I was too stubborn to give up on my dreams of finding pirate treasure to entirely stop.
I went into my dad’s shop, pilfered a flat head shovel and trekked down the trail where I could resume my search without my parents' oversight. Looking for the tell-tale signs of pirate interference, I found myself wandering off the beaten path. That is when I saw it. It was the largest oak tree I’ve ever seen. Massive, barren branches loomed over me like the hands of a twisted god. For some reason, that daydream came back to the forefront of my mind.
With the clarity of scared eyes, I saw a rickety cross held together by ancient twine fraying at the ends. A spark of excitement burned away all my concerns. Quickly, I clambered down the hill to the base of that giant oak to get a better look at the marker. At closer inspection, I saw one name carved into the base of the cross. It said, “Victor P. Alexandre.” It didn’t sound like a pirate's name, but still it was worth investigating. After all, one place was as good as another.
That first day, I shoveled loose dirt and clay for nearly 8 hours. The hole was larger and deeper than I had ever managed in the past. Even still, I found nothing. No buried treasure. No time capsule. Nothing of interest whatsoever. I was on the verge of giving up, when my shovel suddenly hit with a clink. Uncaring, I threw it aside and slowly began to sift through the loose dirt. To my utter shock, my hands felt a smooth surface.
Using the water from my bottle I washed the dirt away, scrubbing it clean with my hands. The surface was white as bone, yet it was flat. At closer glance, I realized it was smooth marble. My heart was beating fast. If this wasn't hidden treasure, God only knew what else it could be. That second day, I dug like my life depended on it. The marble slab was bigger than I had expected, already I had exposed nearly four feet of it. The day was growing short, and the shadows had been growing longer, yet even still, I found myself scouring that slab.
Right before the day turned to night, my hand ran across a large padlock. One of those old-fashioned, cast-iron locks. The heavy ones. It was rusted and the metal was beginning to flake, but still, I couldn't break it. I tried to smash it off with the pointed end of the shovel, yet it resisted my attempts. I heard my mother's voice calling to me.
I went scurrying towards the sound of her voice, doing my best to brush clean the dirt off my arms and legs. I mustn't have done a good job, because as her suspicious eyes fell upon me, I saw disappointment flash in them.
She looked me up and down and said, “Jack Dempsey, did you cut any more sprinkler lines this time?”
With a sheepish grin I responded, “No ma’am.”
She gestured towards the bathroom and said, “Wash up before your father sees.”
Immediately I obeyed, not wanting to push my luck. The rest of the night was uneventful. I slept like a babe. It was the last full night’s sleep I’ve had since, the final night not plagued by monsters and nightmares.
I was woken by the first tentative rays of the morning light. The excitement of my find robbed me of my ability to sleep in. It was a Saturday morning and not a cloud was in sight. The wind was blowing in playful gusts tugging at my hair and the folds of my clothes. It was the sort of morning I'd dedicate to the flying of kites, yet today something else had my full attention. My mind raced at 100 miles per hour, fantasizing of all the possibilities. What lies under the marble floor? It must be something of great value to be buried so deep and guarded by such a lock. I thought that perhaps it was a treasure cove, hidden by conquistadors. Maybe it was a secret entrance to a hidden civilization. The possibilities were endless, only limited by my willingness to imagine.
My idea was simple. If I couldn't break it off with brute force, then I'd cut it off with a grinder in my dad’s shed. To my great amusement I had seen him cut off the heavy lock I used for my bike when I lost the key a year prior. Luck was on my side that day, or perhaps it was misfortune.
With a hollow thump, I leapt carelessly down into the hole. Those eyes flashed feverishly bright into my mind. The sudden feeling of fear almost made me clamber back the way I came. As suddenly as it came, it passed.
The curiosity of a ten-year-old was too great for any reservations I might’ve had. Within moments, I found myself cutting away. The grinder cut through the metal as if it was butter, showering the pearly white marble with orange sparks. A thunderclap brought me back to my senses. With a start, I nearly dropped the still spinning grinder. I looked up to see thick, black clouds beginning to roll their way towards me. It wasn't supposed to rain today. Yet, the inky blackness barreled towards me blocking the sun’s brilliant rays.
The light all around me seemed to dim. It felt as if time itself fast forwarded, stranding me in dusk. It was eerie, and a little shiver erupted all over my body. The storm seemed to be triggered by the cutting of the lock. But that's not possible; it can't be possible. Yet even so, I couldn't divert my mind from this line of thought. It was preposterous, but there was no storm before and now there is.
I heard a grinding, crunching noise and felt the slab beneath my feet begin to slide open. To my horror, I felt the ground give way, and then I slid into pitch darkness. I rolled a couple of feet and ended up sprawled on my back. The darkness down there was almost complete, except a single ray of light that peeked through the opening of the marble slab. I saw nothing down there, but I couldn't shake the feeling as if I was being watched. It felt as if the darkness had eyes peering at me from all sides.
I didn’t remain down there long. I couldn’t take the silence anymore. I kept imagining Dracula staring at me from the comfort of the shadows, his heart remaining eternally still. No need for it to beat, when one is already dead. I clambered up the steep incline as if my life depended on it, for all I knew it did. I didn’t stop running until I was safely in my room under my bed. I know it was silly, but I couldn't shake the feeling as if I narrowly escaped death.
I determined that tomorrow morning I would refill the hole and never look at that marble slab again. Now with a plan of action set into place, my fear began to lessen. When my parents finally made it back home to fix supper, I had forgotten about my near-death experience. I ate my meatloaf and broccoli and had a large bowl of ice cream, while I watched SpongeBob on the television.
When bedtime came, I didn’t even argue with my parents about staying up later. I did something that night that I had never done before. I grabbed my mom's hand pulling her down to me and kissed her directly on the forehead, then I walked to my dad and repeated the sentiment. I looked each of them in their eyes and said, “You guys are the best parents a child could ask for. I want you to know I love you.” Tears welled up in my mom’s eyes and even my dad looked close to waterworks. Something happened in the silence that preceded. Our relationship matured. I had seen them and accepted them as the individuals they were, not as the parents who exist for my well being. We had looked into each other's eyes and acknowledged one another.
I think fondly of this memory, and I thank God that I had this one final moment to make known all that my childish mind thought but didn't have the ability to put into words. It was a tender moment, and it was the last time I saw my parents breathing.
I fell asleep almost the moment my head hit the pillow. It was a deep sleep, the kind in which there are no dreams. The kind that leaves you well rested and excited for the next day. But it wasn't the morning when I woke up.
This watch of the night goes by many names; the dead of night, the witching hour, midnight, the time the moon goes to rest. They all mean the same thing; it's the period in which the night is darkest, and the hope of morning is nearly nonexistent. This is the time owned by the nightmares, where the boogey man walks freely.
It was a gentle tapping on my window that awoke me. My body became stiff, and I couldn't move. Fear paralyzed me and I lay in my bed, senses hyper alert. I remained there hoping it was a branch against the window but knowing better. The window in my room was directly above my head. With very little effort I could be certain of the cause of the sound. I didn’t want to be certain. I'd rather lay trying my best to convince myself it was caused by some ordinary means, than look and see the glowing red eyes of Dracula.
And in one way or another, I knew it was him. I was certain I’d look up and see his pale face shining as pristine as the marble slab that must be his resting place. As the night crawled along, the scratching only got louder until it was nearly deafening. It was then that my curiosity got the best of me. I couldn’t fight the urge any longer. It was like a scratch your mom told you not to itch; the more you thought about it, the harder it was to ignore. My eyes flung wide, and I looked up.
I could hardly believe what they saw. There on the other side of the glass was my old kite, the red and blue one that came loose and flew away a few weeks ago. I thought my fear would ease learning the source of the awful sound, but there I remained unable to get those red eyes out of my mind. The kite didn’t help persuade me of the silliness of my fears, in fact, it solidified them, as if it gave some sort of credence.
My alarm clock on my nightstand ticked slowly, and I watched as the digital numbers changed. Each minute seemed to take hours. Slowly the night’s grasp yielded to the onslaught of the coming day. The darkness faded leaving pockets of thick shadow cast by the steady rising of the orange sliver on the horizon. Even these strongholds of the night were unable to stand in the face of such an overwhelming adversary, and shortly I was left in the shining light of morning.
I made a decision while I was warring with my fear. I was going to tell my parents about the marble slab and what I had done. They would know what to do. In fact, they would probably tease me for letting it scare me, but at that point I didn’t care. I would have welcomed the lighthearted jokes made at my expense. It would mean my fears weren't reasonable ones. All would go back to normal, and I’d be another kid who had a silly nightmare.
The nightmare began in my parents' bedroom. I barged into their room hoping to receive the comfort I so needed. I found everything but comfort there. The room was entirely normal, except it lacked the presence of my sleeping parents. They were gone. I went into their bathroom thinking they might’ve gotten up early. It was empty. As I made my way back into the room, I noticed the window nearest their bed was open. Lying on the windowsill was an enormous droplet of blood.
My heart dropped and I knew exactly where they’d be. Dracula hadn’t intended to get me; he wanted my parents. The kite was a distraction, a way to settle my rational mind. I was right to fear, if only I had feared enough to run straight to my parents' room. Would things be different now? I think they might. In my book, belief was the only way to combat vampires, and children have a knack for it. He must've known I'd never let him in my room. But tonight, he can come freely for me.
My parents. I failed them. No, I killed them. I never should've opened that door. I should've buried the hatch closed the moment I saw it. Of course, it was a grave. It had the marker above it and all. I’m an idiot, a God’s damned fool. The marker. What did it say on it? “Victor P. Alexandre.” So, this isn't Dracula after all, but in a way he still is. He can be killed the same way.
It took me the remainder of the day to gather the required materials. I found garlic cloves in the spice cabinet, my family are catholic, so it was no difficulty finding a cross, the thing that took me the longest was making the wooden stakes. In the end, I used the legs of our kitchen table filed down to a nasty point. As an afterthought, I grabbed the massive padlock my dad used on his shed sometimes. It never hurts to have a backup.
I followed the blood droplets of my parents to the hole I dug. I remained staring down at the marble slab, now drenched in my family’s life blood, unable to move from the spot. I watched in horror as the sun slowly began to make its descent, knowing that my chance was slipping between my fingers. A thought occurred to me. What if my parents are down there? Will I be able to look them in the face while I slide a stake through their heart?
Call it what you want, but a few minutes before the sun sank behind the horizon, a metallic glint caught my eyes. At closer examination, it was the little silver cross necklace my mom always wore. This spurred me into action, as if someone poked me with a red-hot brand. It burned my fears away and left me with a numb sense of responsibility.
Without a second thought I launched myself down into the hole scooping up my mom’s pendant and ignited the flashlight. I didn’t have much time; the sun was falling. The shadows were lengthening. My heart beat a steady staccato against the inner walls of my chest. I was scared my damn heartbeat would wake the creatures giving me away. But I didn't have time to worry, so I didn’t. In a clarity unlike anything I've experienced before or since, I made my way through the opening of the sepulcher.
As I moved forward, I couldn’t help but think that I had been swallowed alive by some mythic monster. Jonah in the belly of the whale, I suppose. The darkness closed in on me and the faint glow cast by my flashlight only went about 4 feet in front of me. It looked as if I was in a catacomb. Urns and vases lined the walls on each side of me. Every few feet or so was a nook that held an empty casket. Panic seized my limbs, threatening to lock them up for good. What if he’s behind me or hiding in one of those alcoves? I was afraid to breathe or make any sudden noises. Thoughts of waking him and having to face him upright nearly stopped me in my tracks.
It was the sound of my parents' voices that pushed me forward. They gave me the resolve to see this thing through. I heard my mom tell me, “If not you, then who?” and the strong voice of my father admonishing me, “Do the right thing, even if it’s hard.” And so, I kept moving one step at a time, my footsteps being muffled by the suffocating blackness. Before I knew it, I was there looking at three closed caskets.
There was a grand coffin in the middle, the others were near the two side walls. I knew immediately which one would contain Viktor. I walked straight to it, then hesitated and opened the one against the right wall. My mom was in it. She looked to be sleeping, nothing out of the ordinary besides two small puncture marks on the side of her throat. The coffin against the left wall held my dad. Tears filled my eyes, and I knew they had been turned. I stood there, a stake in my hand, not quite able to plunge it deep into the heart of the woman who gave birth to me.
I closed the casket, making my way to the coffin of the monster who took my parents. I looked forward to shoving a stake through his heart, and as I opened the lid a wicked smile was plastered on my face. The smile evaporated the moment I looked and saw that it was empty. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. I heard rich laughter echoing down the hallway directly behind me.
“I must admit, you've surprised me. I’ve had fools rush in here before trying to kill me, but usually they are glory seekers. This is a first. I’ve never come across a child brave enough to meet me in the dark,” purred Viktor in a smooth, slightly European accent.
Maybe it was the anger, maybe it was my body being unable to process the fear; regardless, my voice came out strong and confident, when I said, “And that’s why I’ll succeed, where others failed.”
Viktor began laughing, wiping tears from his eyes. “May I know the name of the person who will be the death of me?” asked the vampire, a cruel smile beginning to form on the pale landscape of his face.
“The name is Jack Dempsey and those people you killed last night were my parents.”
“Ahh, I see. It’s rage that brings you down into my domain. Your anger may have temporarily burned your fear away, but before I am done with you, it will come crawling back. I will make you envious of the stillborn. Your blood will bring me back to full strength,” snarled Viktor.
Mouth running unchecked, I shot back, “I don’t need to be an adult to put a stake through your cowardly heart. After all, I’m not the one who locked himself away, too scared of being bested.”
“I wasn’t hiding you fool; I was locked in here by foes much cleverer than yourself. They weren’t stupid enough to think they could take me on their own. They locked the entrance and buried my whole sepulcher, until you haphazardly released me,” said the vampire.
I gulped knowing that he was at least partially correct. I had released him, and my parents were the ones who paid the price. This was my cross to carry. My mess to fix. By God, I was resolved to see this thing through till the end.
Without warning I lobbed a whole clove of garlic directly at his face. The creature ungodly fast swatted it away with one hand, hissing as it made direct contact with his skin. I saw a nasty burn appear suddenly on the flesh of that hand. I had time for a moment of triumph, before the creature blurred towards me.
He struck me with the back of his hand sending me sprawling into the coffin that held my mother. I heard a bone crack in my ribs when I made contact. Pain filled my body, and I cried out. This seemed to please the vampire as he slowly stalked towards me, my backpack filled with supplies held in his left hand. The stake I had been holding flew out of my hand when he hit me, and I was left with nothing to stop his advance.
He knew this too; I saw it in the smug smile he wore across his face. It was done, my parents died because of me. I couldn’t even get revenge on their killer. I had failed them. And now, this creature was going to rip me apart slowly, enjoying every moment of it.
My mom’s voice cut through all my fears, and I heard her say, “I gave you my necklace, now kill this motherfucker.”
My hand reached to my neck, and I felt the comfort of the cold silver against my skin. With one smooth motion I pulled it off, concealing it in my left hand. I knew I’d have to time it right. I would get only one chance at this, I had to make it count. The element of surprise was working in my favor, but even still the creature was fast as hell. I’d have to let him get close, painfully close before I struck.
I gave him what he desired most, I pleaded for my life. “Please, I didn’t mean it. Have mercy on me. I’ll serve you. I’ll do anything you need me to. I let you out, didn’t I?”
Viktor smiled a smile filled with pointed teeth. I shuttered; it wasn’t hard to act. I truly was terrified. This seemed to please him. He laid his well-manicured hands on my shoulder, holding me like a father holds his son.
“You have been very helpful to me; I can think of one way you can be even more useful,” said Viktor.
He leaned in almost as if he was going to kiss me, then at the last moment he bent his head back as if he was a snake preparing to strike. I expected him to do this, and with one fluid motion I shoved the crucifix directly down the throat of the creature. His sharp teeth cut my hand into ribbons, but the moment the silver touched his throat it erupted in blue flames. I watched in fascination as the vampire's head began to melt, then disintegrate. Within about thirty seconds the entire body of the vampire was reduced to ashes.
My mom’s necklace remained sitting on top of the pile of ash. I reached down and pocketed it. I breathed a sigh of relief, then I looked at the other two caskets. Tears made my vision swim. This is impossible. How am I supposed to kill the people who raised me?
I opened my mom’s casket again; she looked so beautiful laying in perfect peace. They looked happier than they had in years. The wrinkles beginning to form under her eyes were gone, smooth skin replaced it. Bottle that formula and sell it. For one low price of drinking a vampire's blood, you too can have skin that shines bright in the moonlight.
Something caught my eye. I looked down at the now torn backpack and saw the massive padlock I had taken from my dad’s shed. An idea sprung into my mind. Maybe I don’t have to kill them. I can lock them up and re-bury them. The night was nearly here, and a decision needed to be made. In a moment of weakness, I chose.
It was well past midnight when I finished packing the rest of the loose dirt back into the hole. Shortly after I started, I could hear a clawing noise coming from within. I didn’t so much as stop for a water break. When the hole was half filled, I couldn’t hear the cries of my parents anymore. Although I do hear them in my dreams sometimes.
The moon was hidden behind rain clouds, making it difficult to see. In my mad scramble out of the catacombs, I dropped my flashlight. I began my long trek back home, no longer fearing the shadows in the night.
2024.05.07 13:30 Acceptable-Tea-6937 [PS4] H: Gear & Plans List, W: Junk/Leaders/XpMagazines/RareApparel/EncaveMods Offers.
WEAPONS: AA/E/15R Fixer, AA/E/15V Fixer, B/25/15V Fixer, TS/E/15R Fixer, B/E/90 Fixer, EXE/E/15R Fixer (2), JUG/25/25 Fixer, V/E/90 Fixer, TS/50/15R Fixer (2), TS/25/90 Fixer, B25/15R Fixer, B/E/250 Fixer, AA/HIT/15R Fixer, B/HIT/25 Fixer, JUG/50H/25 Fixer, Q/HIT/15R Fixer, V/25/AGI Fixer, V/25/50DR Fixer, TS/25/PER Fixer, Q/50H/PER Fixer, V/E/25 Railway, TS/25/15R Railway, EXE/E/25 Railway, EXE/25/25 Railway, TS/50/25 Railway, Q/50L/15R Railway, Q/50B/15V Railway, B/50/90 Railway, Q/50L/90 Railway, AA/25/Dur Railway, I/25/25 Railway, J/25/15R Railway, GOUE/25 Railway, F/50/25 Railway, Q/50/PER Railway, ARI/50/25 Railway, A/50/25 Railway, TS/E/50DR Handmade, EXE/25/25 Assault, TS/E/90 Assault, F/25/25 Plasma, B/E/90 Lever, JUG/E/25 Lever, Q/E/15R Pipe, AA/25/15V Minigun, B/E/50DR Minigun, V/25/AGI Gatlaser, AA/50/15R Lmg, B/HIT/250 50cal, V/STE/15B Chainsaw, JUG/40P/S Drill, V/SS/90 Deathclaw, AA/SS/15B Deathclaw.
ARMOR: Hellcat Power Armor Chassis (tradable), Father Winter Helmet (tradable), BOL/END/WWR Ultracite Left Leg, BOL/1STWWR Ultracite Left Leg, BOL/RAD/SENT T-60 Right Arm, UNY/RAD/SENT Combat Left Leg.
NEW PLANS (alphabetical order): Alien Head Lamp, Alien Table, Assault Rifle Wraith's Wrath Paint (4), Bloody Rug (5), Chainsaw Ghostly Grinder Paint, Chainsaw Skeptikill Paint (9), Cultist Adept Hood (5), Cultist Adept Robes (4), Cultist Enlightened Hood (6), Cultist Enlightened Robes (6), Cultist Eventide Hood (9), Cultist Incarnate Helmet (3), Cultist Neophyte Hood (3), Cultist Neophyte Robes (5), Dried Wildflower Bouquet (3), Enlightened Lantern (8), Executioner Mask (2), Fluttering Moths (6), Fuzzy Enlightened Plushie (3), Fuzzy Mothman Plushie (8), Ghoul Chair, Giant Red Dinosaur (2), Glowing Flatwoods Monster Lamp, Hazmat Suit - Teal, Herdsman’s Bell, Honeycomb Paper Blue Mothman (6), Honeycomb Paper Brown Mothman (6), Honeycomb Paper Ghost Lantern A (4), Honeycomb Paper Ghost Lantern B (2), Honeycomb Paper Green Mothman (9), Honeycomb Paper Holiday Tree A (2), Honeycomb Paper Holiday Tree B (3), Honeycomb Paper Icy Snowflake (6), Honeycomb Paper Jack-o'Lantern A (5), Honeycomb Paper Jack-o'Lantern B (3), Honeycomb Paper Jolly Target, Honeycomb Paper Mothman Globe (8), Honeycomb Paper Red Mothman (6), Honeycomb Paper Ribbon Bell, Honeycomb Paper Snowman (2), Honeycomb Paper Spider Lantern (6), Plastiform Gingerbread (5), Plastiform Nutcracker (4), Plastiform Santa, Punty Pig Plushie (2), Rad Skull Rider Helmet (3), Sacred Mothman Tome (7), Scorchbeast Queen Beer Stein (7), Star Light (3), Super Mutant Diagram (3), Taxidermy Mutant Hound.
OLDER PLANS (alphabetical order): Alien Blaster (2), Alien Blaster Cryo Mag (2), Alien Blaster Poison Mag (3), Alien Corpse Operating Bed (3), Alien Disintegrator (2), Alien Disintegrator Automatic Receiver, Alien Disintegrator Cryo Receiver (2), Alien Jack O’Lantern (3), Alien Stash Box (3), Alien Tube (5), Antique Globe of Mars (3), Asteroid (3), Bos Officer Uniform (4), Boss Soldier Uniform (2), Barbed Walking Cane (2), Barbed Wire Fences (2), Bear Arm, Bear Arm Heavy Mod (3), Bear Arm Puncturing Mod (2), Bed of Nails (2), Behemoth Boss Plushie (2), Blue Devil Curtain Door (3), Blue Devil Outfit (3), Blue Devil Pelt Hood (3), Blue Devil Statue (2), Blue Ridge Rug, Blue Ridge Scout Outfit, Bos Medallion, Bottle Bot (4), Bottle and Cappy Balloon Statue, Bottle and Cappy Hoop Jump Statue, Bottle and Cappy Painting Statue (5), Bottle and Cappy Walking Globle Statue (3), Bottle Plush, Brahmin Backpack (3), Brahmin Grill, Brahmin Plushie (2), Brahmin Skin Rug (2), Burning Sheepsquatch Club, Canopy Tent (2), Cappy & Bottle Cowboy Cutouts (2), Cappy Clapper (3), Cappy Smashed Super Sledge Pain (4), Cartography Table, Chally the Moo-Moo Backpack, Circus Bench (2), Circus Cage Trailer, Circus Cube (2), Circus Seesaw, Circus Stilts (3), Circus Walking Globe (5), Civil War Era Suit (2), Civil War Era Top Hat (2), Classic Jack O’Lantern (2), Condemned Notification Sign (2), Confederate Hat, Costume Witch Hat (2), Crowd Bench Seats, Cryogenic Bed (5), Cryptid Hunter Boonie Hat (3), Cryptid Mobile, Cuckoo Clock, Cultist Backpack (4), Cupid Cappy Sign (6), Deathclaw Gauntlet Extra Claw (2), Decoy Ducks, Deputy’s Hat (3), Electrified Assaultron Blade, Evil Jack O’Lantern (2), Electrified Sheepsquatch Club, Electrified Shepherd’s Crook, Electro Enforcer (2), Flamethrower Trap, Freezing Electro Enforcer, Full Pumpkin Rack (2), Getaway Wagon, Glass Covered Sheperd's Crook, Gorilla Chair, Grim Reaper Vault-Boy Cutout (4), Gulper Head (5), Gulper Rug (3), Half Empty Pumpkin Rack (2), Half Full Pumpkin Rack (3), Halloween Skull Mask, Happy Jack O’Lantern (3), Hula Hoop, Human Tube 1 (5), Human Tube 2 (5), Insurgent Hat, Insurgent Outfit (3), Kids Brahmin Clock (3), Large Ultracite Shard (4), Marine Armor Helmet, Marine Tactical Helmet, Marine Wetsuit (2), Meat Cleaver, Milkman Hat (3), Milkman Outfit (2), Mirelurk King tube, Mobster Jack O’Lantern (3), Molerat Wind Chime (2), Mounted Blue Devil Head, Mounted Ogua Head (2), Musket Stack Monument (6), Nuka Cola Bottle Kiosk (3), Nuka Girl Area Rug (5), Nuka Launcher Model (3), Nuka Launcher Posters (2), Nuka Launcher Snow Globe (2), Nuka-Cade Poster (4), Nuka-Cola Ad Barrier (3), Nuka-Cola Balloons, Nuka-Cola Clock (4), Nuka-Cola Crate Stalls (3), Nuka-Stool, Nuka-World Cowboy Hat (3), Ogua Curtain Door (2), Ogua Egg (3), Ogua Hunter Hood, Ogua Hunter Outfit (2), Ogua Plushie (2), Ogua Shell Backpack (3), Overcharged Electro Enforcer (2), Paddock Gate (3), Pepper Shaker, Pink Brahmin Plushie, Pioneer Scout Bowie knife Paint (3), Plasma Gun True Flamer Barrel, Plastic Fruit Bowl, Poisoned Electro Enforcer (2), Practice Jack O’Lantern, Princess Castle Pink Sleeping Bag (2), Protective Lining Raider Underarmor, Pumpkin Rack, Radioactive Barrel (3), Red Rocket Gas Pump Wall Light (3), Red Rocket Gas Station Lamp (5), Red Truck Ceiling Light (4), Replica Gronak’s Axe, Rust Eagle Banner (6), Safari Crocolossus Backpack, Safari Gorilla Backpack (2), Sheepsquatch Staff, Shielded Lining BoS Underarmor (5), Shielded Lining Marine Underarmor, Shielded Lining Raider Underarmor (2), Sitting Gorilla (5), Skeleton Costume (2), Skiing Outfit, Small Vault Girl Statue, Spear, Spicy Tenderizer Mod, Spiked Electro Enforcer, Spiked Shepherd’s Crook (3), Spin the Wheel Snow Globe, Standing Gorilla (4), Strongman’s Super Sledge Paint, Surprised Jack O’Lantern (3), Tattered Curtains (5), The Fixer (5), Titan Plushie (2), Tomb Stones, Treasure Hunter Outfit Hat, Truckbed Trailer with Junk (2), Tunnel of Love Poster (3), Tunnel of Love Snow Globe (6), Ultracite Emergency Protocols, Ultracite Overdrive Servos, Vault Boy Jack O’Lantern (3), Vault Door Jack O’Lantern (3), Vault-Tec Jack O’Lantern (3), Vintage Water Cooler, Wall Mounted Fan (5), Wild West, Show Posters (3), Wise Mothman Throne, Witch Costume (2).
RECIPES (alphabetical order): Caramel Mutfruit, Cranberry Moonshine, Cutting Fluid (3), Disease Cure (Savage Divide), Fasnacht Donut, Fasnacht Sausage, Formula P, Gulper Stuffed Foot (2), Healing Salve (Mire), Lead Champagne Bellini, Nuka-Cola Dark, Pickaxe Pilsner, Stimpak Diffuser (3), White Russian.
WANT: Adhesive, Aluminum, Asbestos, Ballistic fiber, Ceramic, Coal, Concrete, Copper, Cork, Crystal, Fiber optics, Flux: Cobalt/Fluro/Yellow/Violet/Crimson, Gold, Gears, Nuclear waste, Oil, Silver, Springs, Ultracite, Leader Bobbleheads, Backwoodsman 6, Rare Apparel, Enclave Forceful Stock Mods.
CAPS VALUE PER EACH (for reference): Adhesive 5, Aluminum 3, Asbestos 2, Ballistic fiber 7, Ceramic 2, Coal 1, Concrete 1, Copper 4, Cork 1, Circuit 3, Crystal 3, Fiber optics 7, Fiberglass 1, Flux: Cobalt/Fluro/Yellow/Violet/Crimson 100, Gold 4, Gears 4, Screws 3, Nuclear waste 1, Oil 5, Silver 4, Springs 5, Anticeptic 2,Ultracite 7, Leader 500, Backwoodsman6 500.
Shoot me an offer :)
submitted by Acceptable-Tea-6937 to Fallout76Marketplace [link] [comments]
ARMOR: Hellcat Power Armor Chassis (tradable), Father Winter Helmet (tradable), BOL/END/WWR Ultracite Left Leg, BOL/1STWWR Ultracite Left Leg, BOL/RAD/SENT T-60 Right Arm, UNY/RAD/SENT Combat Left Leg.
NEW PLANS (alphabetical order): Alien Head Lamp, Alien Table, Assault Rifle Wraith's Wrath Paint (4), Bloody Rug (5), Chainsaw Ghostly Grinder Paint, Chainsaw Skeptikill Paint (9), Cultist Adept Hood (5), Cultist Adept Robes (4), Cultist Enlightened Hood (6), Cultist Enlightened Robes (6), Cultist Eventide Hood (9), Cultist Incarnate Helmet (3), Cultist Neophyte Hood (3), Cultist Neophyte Robes (5), Dried Wildflower Bouquet (3), Enlightened Lantern (8), Executioner Mask (2), Fluttering Moths (6), Fuzzy Enlightened Plushie (3), Fuzzy Mothman Plushie (8), Ghoul Chair, Giant Red Dinosaur (2), Glowing Flatwoods Monster Lamp, Hazmat Suit - Teal, Herdsman’s Bell, Honeycomb Paper Blue Mothman (6), Honeycomb Paper Brown Mothman (6), Honeycomb Paper Ghost Lantern A (4), Honeycomb Paper Ghost Lantern B (2), Honeycomb Paper Green Mothman (9), Honeycomb Paper Holiday Tree A (2), Honeycomb Paper Holiday Tree B (3), Honeycomb Paper Icy Snowflake (6), Honeycomb Paper Jack-o'Lantern A (5), Honeycomb Paper Jack-o'Lantern B (3), Honeycomb Paper Jolly Target, Honeycomb Paper Mothman Globe (8), Honeycomb Paper Red Mothman (6), Honeycomb Paper Ribbon Bell, Honeycomb Paper Snowman (2), Honeycomb Paper Spider Lantern (6), Plastiform Gingerbread (5), Plastiform Nutcracker (4), Plastiform Santa, Punty Pig Plushie (2), Rad Skull Rider Helmet (3), Sacred Mothman Tome (7), Scorchbeast Queen Beer Stein (7), Star Light (3), Super Mutant Diagram (3), Taxidermy Mutant Hound.
OLDER PLANS (alphabetical order): Alien Blaster (2), Alien Blaster Cryo Mag (2), Alien Blaster Poison Mag (3), Alien Corpse Operating Bed (3), Alien Disintegrator (2), Alien Disintegrator Automatic Receiver, Alien Disintegrator Cryo Receiver (2), Alien Jack O’Lantern (3), Alien Stash Box (3), Alien Tube (5), Antique Globe of Mars (3), Asteroid (3), Bos Officer Uniform (4), Boss Soldier Uniform (2), Barbed Walking Cane (2), Barbed Wire Fences (2), Bear Arm, Bear Arm Heavy Mod (3), Bear Arm Puncturing Mod (2), Bed of Nails (2), Behemoth Boss Plushie (2), Blue Devil Curtain Door (3), Blue Devil Outfit (3), Blue Devil Pelt Hood (3), Blue Devil Statue (2), Blue Ridge Rug, Blue Ridge Scout Outfit, Bos Medallion, Bottle Bot (4), Bottle and Cappy Balloon Statue, Bottle and Cappy Hoop Jump Statue, Bottle and Cappy Painting Statue (5), Bottle and Cappy Walking Globle Statue (3), Bottle Plush, Brahmin Backpack (3), Brahmin Grill, Brahmin Plushie (2), Brahmin Skin Rug (2), Burning Sheepsquatch Club, Canopy Tent (2), Cappy & Bottle Cowboy Cutouts (2), Cappy Clapper (3), Cappy Smashed Super Sledge Pain (4), Cartography Table, Chally the Moo-Moo Backpack, Circus Bench (2), Circus Cage Trailer, Circus Cube (2), Circus Seesaw, Circus Stilts (3), Circus Walking Globe (5), Civil War Era Suit (2), Civil War Era Top Hat (2), Classic Jack O’Lantern (2), Condemned Notification Sign (2), Confederate Hat, Costume Witch Hat (2), Crowd Bench Seats, Cryogenic Bed (5), Cryptid Hunter Boonie Hat (3), Cryptid Mobile, Cuckoo Clock, Cultist Backpack (4), Cupid Cappy Sign (6), Deathclaw Gauntlet Extra Claw (2), Decoy Ducks, Deputy’s Hat (3), Electrified Assaultron Blade, Evil Jack O’Lantern (2), Electrified Sheepsquatch Club, Electrified Shepherd’s Crook, Electro Enforcer (2), Flamethrower Trap, Freezing Electro Enforcer, Full Pumpkin Rack (2), Getaway Wagon, Glass Covered Sheperd's Crook, Gorilla Chair, Grim Reaper Vault-Boy Cutout (4), Gulper Head (5), Gulper Rug (3), Half Empty Pumpkin Rack (2), Half Full Pumpkin Rack (3), Halloween Skull Mask, Happy Jack O’Lantern (3), Hula Hoop, Human Tube 1 (5), Human Tube 2 (5), Insurgent Hat, Insurgent Outfit (3), Kids Brahmin Clock (3), Large Ultracite Shard (4), Marine Armor Helmet, Marine Tactical Helmet, Marine Wetsuit (2), Meat Cleaver, Milkman Hat (3), Milkman Outfit (2), Mirelurk King tube, Mobster Jack O’Lantern (3), Molerat Wind Chime (2), Mounted Blue Devil Head, Mounted Ogua Head (2), Musket Stack Monument (6), Nuka Cola Bottle Kiosk (3), Nuka Girl Area Rug (5), Nuka Launcher Model (3), Nuka Launcher Posters (2), Nuka Launcher Snow Globe (2), Nuka-Cade Poster (4), Nuka-Cola Ad Barrier (3), Nuka-Cola Balloons, Nuka-Cola Clock (4), Nuka-Cola Crate Stalls (3), Nuka-Stool, Nuka-World Cowboy Hat (3), Ogua Curtain Door (2), Ogua Egg (3), Ogua Hunter Hood, Ogua Hunter Outfit (2), Ogua Plushie (2), Ogua Shell Backpack (3), Overcharged Electro Enforcer (2), Paddock Gate (3), Pepper Shaker, Pink Brahmin Plushie, Pioneer Scout Bowie knife Paint (3), Plasma Gun True Flamer Barrel, Plastic Fruit Bowl, Poisoned Electro Enforcer (2), Practice Jack O’Lantern, Princess Castle Pink Sleeping Bag (2), Protective Lining Raider Underarmor, Pumpkin Rack, Radioactive Barrel (3), Red Rocket Gas Pump Wall Light (3), Red Rocket Gas Station Lamp (5), Red Truck Ceiling Light (4), Replica Gronak’s Axe, Rust Eagle Banner (6), Safari Crocolossus Backpack, Safari Gorilla Backpack (2), Sheepsquatch Staff, Shielded Lining BoS Underarmor (5), Shielded Lining Marine Underarmor, Shielded Lining Raider Underarmor (2), Sitting Gorilla (5), Skeleton Costume (2), Skiing Outfit, Small Vault Girl Statue, Spear, Spicy Tenderizer Mod, Spiked Electro Enforcer, Spiked Shepherd’s Crook (3), Spin the Wheel Snow Globe, Standing Gorilla (4), Strongman’s Super Sledge Paint, Surprised Jack O’Lantern (3), Tattered Curtains (5), The Fixer (5), Titan Plushie (2), Tomb Stones, Treasure Hunter Outfit Hat, Truckbed Trailer with Junk (2), Tunnel of Love Poster (3), Tunnel of Love Snow Globe (6), Ultracite Emergency Protocols, Ultracite Overdrive Servos, Vault Boy Jack O’Lantern (3), Vault Door Jack O’Lantern (3), Vault-Tec Jack O’Lantern (3), Vintage Water Cooler, Wall Mounted Fan (5), Wild West, Show Posters (3), Wise Mothman Throne, Witch Costume (2).
RECIPES (alphabetical order): Caramel Mutfruit, Cranberry Moonshine, Cutting Fluid (3), Disease Cure (Savage Divide), Fasnacht Donut, Fasnacht Sausage, Formula P, Gulper Stuffed Foot (2), Healing Salve (Mire), Lead Champagne Bellini, Nuka-Cola Dark, Pickaxe Pilsner, Stimpak Diffuser (3), White Russian.
WANT: Adhesive, Aluminum, Asbestos, Ballistic fiber, Ceramic, Coal, Concrete, Copper, Cork, Crystal, Fiber optics, Flux: Cobalt/Fluro/Yellow/Violet/Crimson, Gold, Gears, Nuclear waste, Oil, Silver, Springs, Ultracite, Leader Bobbleheads, Backwoodsman 6, Rare Apparel, Enclave Forceful Stock Mods.
CAPS VALUE PER EACH (for reference): Adhesive 5, Aluminum 3, Asbestos 2, Ballistic fiber 7, Ceramic 2, Coal 1, Concrete 1, Copper 4, Cork 1, Circuit 3, Crystal 3, Fiber optics 7, Fiberglass 1, Flux: Cobalt/Fluro/Yellow/Violet/Crimson 100, Gold 4, Gears 4, Screws 3, Nuclear waste 1, Oil 5, Silver 4, Springs 5, Anticeptic 2,Ultracite 7, Leader 500, Backwoodsman6 500.
Shoot me an offer :)