A couple of years ago I tried writing my own version of Stones Abbigale. I never got past the first couple scenes, but I'm considering returning to it. I wanted to basically rewrite and change up a lot of things, mainly focusing on Abbi and Davis and changing some elements. Let me know what you think!

1
It's almost four in the morning and Seth is threatening suicide again. Good. Fuck him. I hope he does it. I don't text him that because I read about this girl who told her boyfriend to kill himself. The irony was that when he actually did it she got charged with second degree murder. My life is fucked as it is I don't need to make it worse. It's almost two in the morning and I have to be up for school in a few hours. I’m shivering under my comforter because we’re halfway through November. I think about the turkey that won't get made this year and the family I won't see. I think that's swell. Seth is still texting.
Its like u dont even care after everything that happened and after everything we did together i saved ur life and i stayed with u when u cried and i hugged u and i did everything for u but that wasn't enough was it? i try so hard and all u ever are is a bitch to me that's not fair u want me to die and u hate me and u dont even care and im sick of it abbi why is is so hard for u to care about me?
I don't respond. I don't like how I feel about this. This should be easy. He won't actually do it. He won't. He’s too self involved to kill himself. I put my phone face down on my bed. The sheets shake around it as he sends message after message. I was sleeping on a ticking bomb so I got off of it. My feet stick to the floor, I struggle to step. I might as well have been standing barefoot on ice. I trudge to my window so I can see my street at night. Winter is really coming. You can't hear as many birds as you used to. They've all gone. They've all flown away. I can see three streetlights from where I’m standing. If you can from right to left you can see the concrete fracture into the sand. I open my window and brace for the chill. I stick my head outside. The ocean is not far away. I hear it hitting the shore over and over. Waves of water splashing incessantly, almost beating out my text notifications. The street lights flicker. I think of last summer. When Seth and I got really high after the news broke that my Mom was cheating on my Dad. I was making out with that bong. Emptying bowl after bowl, clanking the glass on the road to empty it out. Just thinking about it makes me feel the street pole against my back again. I was laughing and crying. Seth leaned in and hugged me. “I’m a sure thing,” he said. “I love you and I always will.” I caught my reflection in his sunglasses. I looked awful. I shiver at the memory. My phone is still buzzing. I try to catch my breath. I shut my window and start to walk back to my bed. A room always looks different in the dark. Maybe you think you know where you are, but there is always something that can jump out at you on the floor. Like a ghostly paper bag or a vengeful shoe. Objects that seem to move on their own with the sole drive of tripping you. I crawl back into bed. There's the phantom of Dad’s snoring . I know he's not sleeping in his room, he fell asleep on the couch after finishing his seventh fifth. Sometimes my brain fills in the gaps so I can hear it everywhere. Funnily, I haven't actually heard him snore since Mom left. That's the one thing I ever heard them fight about. Before she turned out to be a whore, I guess. BZZT.BZZT.BZZT. I can't bring myself to read any of his messages. They're coming so fast all the paragraphs are lost to motion blur. Seth’s arms wrap around me and I think about the beating of his heart and the warmth of his lips against my skin. I open up the texts, ready to respond.
I love you
I text this over and over until I fall asleep.
Davis was the only senior on the bus. Somehow, everyone else had a car or a ride. It’s all right, though. James would probably give him one if he had a car, but he skated to school every morning. That's why he barely ever rode the bus with him. The bus thumped along the under paved roads. Davis forgot his earbuds at home, so the only music that accompanied him was his racing thoughts. Two sophomore girls popped their heads over. “Ohmigod, Davis!” One of them shrieked.. “As I live and breathe,” he smiled. “Nice,” she said. “I’m so excited to see your finished painting.” Davis took the lower level art class for a requirement. Like most things, he's not taking it very seriously. For their pop art unit, he's painting a portrait of the art teacher with a warthog face. It's one of his funny disruptions. He knows Mrs. Stanley is going to have a real field day with it, but it doesn't matter. Artistic liberties, he’d profess. “She's such a bitch, isn't she?” The sophomore girl turns to her compatriot, who only nods in response. “She's just jealous,” Davis says. “It must be depressing to teach art and see the youth soar above her.” “For sure,” the girl doesn't get it. Class clown is a semi-heavy burden. Davis doesn't really feel like talking to these girls, but his position demands it. Comedy informs everything about him. To the giant thrift store jeans, to the loud Hawaiian shirt. He and James are the ultimate combination, at least he likes to think so. Quiet brooding begs for bright distraction. The girl is still trying to talk to him and Davis is saying his preprogrammed lines. The bus stops in front of James’s street. Surprisingly, James is standing there. “Like I’m this close to just filling my hydroflask with vodka, yaknow?” says the chick. Maybe she's just trying to get a rise out of him. “Better be prepared to give me more than a sip,” Davis is watching James grumble towards the bus. The sun is beating down on the forming ice puddles. James stomps through them with small shattering steps. James turns up the bus aisle and plops in the seat next to Davis. Davis’s smile is genuine now, but he fights it from getting too wide. “Crash your vehicle?” Davis asks. “Something like it,” there's something off with him. Davis doesn't want to push it. “Well damn, hope insurance covers it,” Davis wants James to break and laugh. Is it just another mood or did something actually happen this time? “It won't, I got bad credit,” James grins and it's like heaven. “What's the move for you today?” “Surviving art and physics for me,” says Davis. “Those bastards love to keep me down.” “Who doesn't,” James eyes the girls who have since returned to whatever they were doing before. It's the judgement stare, as Davis calls it. James likes to observe his peers like a zoo-goer. Breaking them down to taxonomic types. Davis likes to think that James doesn't do this to him, but he knows he probably does. “It sucks you decided to be bad at school and take baby art,” James is still dissecting the sophomore girls down to their tropes. “We could have done Art II together.” “I wouldn't want to get between you and Alex. I know how you love it when people piss in jars next to you.” “That's disgusting,” James breaks his glare at the girls. “It's performance art, it's beautiful,” Davis gets up out of his seat to yell. “Everyone witness the wonderful work of Alex Madov! Disengage yourself from the shackles of capitalism by shouting with me: Poopy, pee pee, poop!” Davis gets a few chuckles from the other kids on the bus. “Sit down, fatso,” mumbles the bus driver. “I will not be silenced! I’m a messenger of the good word, sir!” “More of this shit and I’m skipping your stop!” “Fine, but I will make Alex remember on the day of judgement,” Davis sits back down. James is full belly laughing. “You're so retarded,” James wheezes. Davis can't even come back with a response. He's high off of it.
The bus pulls into the school lot with a short stop. The mobs get up and begin to race out. Davis follows James down the line. “You know Abbi?” James asks. Davis feels a little pit form in his stomach, but he doesn't change his expression. “Vaguely, what about her?” “She's in my art class,” James begins. “And I think … well you know, I’m going to talk to her.” He walks down the steps and out the door. “Doesn't she have a boyfr-” before Davis can descend the driver's arm blocks him. “I’ve had enough of your shit, kid,” he says. “If you keep being obnoxious, I’m gonna find a way to make you pay for it.” James looks back, but he can't stay. Davis knows that he's gotta get to class. James does a little wave goodbye and Davis salutes him. “Are you even listening to me?” the bus driver seethes. “Yes, sir. Divine retribution, got it.” Davis ducks underneath his arm and exits the bus. James has already disappeared into the crowd.
I pass the bong to Ashley. She starts another bowl. She’s the transport and I provide the material. The little things that keep our friendship afloat. I look at the clock in her car. “It's 8:45,” I pick a piece of bagel out of my teeth. “So that's it, we officially missed first period,” Ashley tops it off. “They won't mark us, you know. It's a study.” “Yeah, but when's the last time we signed in? I heard they're changing the policy again. Do you still have the lighter?” I toss it to her. I don't get it. It's always her idea to pick me up so we can smoke before school, why now is she suddenly caring about attendance? “We're pretty girls, we can get out of it. I’m next,” I tap on the clock. “Are you sure it's not fast?” She shakes her head as she takes a snap. We're parked in the pond area a block or two from the school. It's our designated smoking spot. I like it, even at the end of fall it's pretty. I’m so engrossed that I don't realize her tip out the bowl and put it back in the cup holder. “I don't know if it's wise to keep up the activity, we should probably get going soon,” she starts up her car again. “Okay,” I say. She reverses and swings out of the lot. We lean into the silence and it's super weird. “Seth texted me last night,” I wait for her reaction. “Oh,” she grimaces. “What did you say?” “That I loved him.” Silence again. Ashley's trying to put together something well-meaning while understanding that I’ll probably ignore whatever she has to say. “Abbi, I’m not trying to tell you how to run your life, but …” Her expression is now quizzical. She's said what she is about to say a number of different ways all ready. She thinks and thinks and decides to say nothing. Good call, I would have screamed at her. Not because what she thinks about my situation isn't true, I’m just in a ‘screaming at people mood’ because of it. “I’m going to dye my hair again,” she changes the subject to avoid conflict. Classic Ash. “Oh yeah? What color this time?” “I don't know,” she checks her reflection in the rear view. “The red has faded out, maybe blue or pink this time.” “You should go with a softer pink,” I say. “Since you're a soft spring.” “Yeah, maybe.” We enter the school lot. “Listen, do you want to get together when I do it? Maybe you can dye your hair too.” “I don't know, I might be busy,” I say. “Seth might want to do something,” I pause for her to protest. “Okay,” she says. She parks and we get out.
I barrel into art class. I don't care if I reek, out of all the teachers I can tell Mrs. Stanley smokes the most. It would be hypocritical of her to care. It looks like I’m the first one. Weird. I check my phone. It's 8:45. Well, fuck. Looks like Ashley needs to fix her clock. Mrs. Stanley is at her desk. She looks at me knowingly. “Eager to create today, Abbi?” I just nod and sit at my desk. I’m really feeling it. I open up my precalc notebook and just start sketching. Birds, eyes, trees, whatever. Kids start coming in. Their chatter echoes around me, I try to focus on what I’m doing. Someone bumps into my table. I look up. It's this lanky blonde kid, I think his name is James. He presses his hands underneath the desk as he leans up to talk to me. “Eww!” He shouts. Some kids turn and laugh. I don't. I just stare at him. James goes red and sits next to the kid who pissed in a jar. Once an adequate amount of students are in the room, Mrs. Stanley starts her lesson slideshow. On the screen is a dirty urinal. “How many of you are familiar with this work by Marcel DuChamp?” she asks. At this point, Jason, the designated meathead jock, enters the room. “Sorry I’m late, Mrs. S,” he booms. He looks at the slide. “We building bathrooms today?” Mrs. Stanley glares at him. “Wouldn't you like that? Considering you spend all of your time in there.” “Whatever,” Jason brushes his mullet behind his ears. “No, not whatever. Would you like me to move you into the sophomore class with Davis? Believe it or not he's getting much better marks than you are getting in here.” Jason rolls his eyes and takes his place in the chair next to me. “Up to a little extra curricular activities before art, Abbi?” he motions a joint in his fingers. I scoff and go on my phone. There's another text from Seth.
sorry about last night
and
im reading it all right now that was fucked im sorry
I start to respond, but before I can Mrs. Stanley outstretches her hand. “Give me your phone, Miss Hagerty. I’m sick of giving you warnings.” I don't have the energy to fight, I just give it to her. “You can pick it up at the end of the day.” My jaw actually drops. Jason must have really set her off, she's not usually such a cunt to me. “Anyways, found art. What is it? Well, found art is the use of everyday objects to convey an altered meaning. It can be something you find on the street or something that once held value to you. For example, My Bed by Tracey Elim.” She pulls up a picture of a messy bed that looks suspiciously like my own. “So for your final unit of the semester, you will be making your own found art. I really want you to take this project a little more seriously than most of you have been taking this class. I’m giving you the privilege of picking your own partners, but I’d like to remind you to be thoughtful with your choice. This will be worth more for your grade.” I look around. I don't have any friends here. I toy around with the idea of asking Jason for convenience and he looks like he's about to pull that move. Behind me there's that James guy. He’s sheepishly looking at me. He seems kind of nice. Okay. I don't feel like getting up so I just turn around in my chair. “Hey James, wanna be partners?” He balks a bit and then smiles at me. “Yeah, totally,” He's beaming and it's somewhat endearing. Alex and I switch seats and now I’m next to him. “I’m gonna be real with you …” I begin. He stops and shifts a little. “I have no idea what we're supposed to be doing for this.” He regards me oddly. Like he's trying to piece me together. It doesn't bother me. “She said we have to bring in an object that's special to us and present it artistically basically,” he rubs his chin. Damn, I must be baked to hell. I didn't hear her saying that at all. “So got any stuffed animals we can cut up and make Lovecraftian monstrosities out of?” “I got a hamster cage, hold the hamster,” I say. It comes out kind of weird and I probably sound stupid, but he doesn't seem to care. “Let's make a fucking zoo.” “Perfect!” He’s kind of cute actually. In a way. Something about this feels fun. I realize the bell will ring soon. “So um,” I rip out a page of my precalc notebook, still fresh with my drawings. I scrawl out my number and push it to him. “Call me so we can figure out the project some more.” I pack up all my stuff and start to head out. I can feel him watching me and it's not that bad. “I sure will,” he says. Everything feels really groovy. There's a lightness now. I’m halfway out the door when I remember my phone. I can't believe that I just forgot about Seth. I think about begging for my phone, but I feel too above that. Still, something shakes the good feeling as the bell rings.

I started on Vyvanse a month ago. at 20mg. initially it was pretty good. I liked it much better than the Concerta. The crash was much smoother. And I felt better.
There was a lot of inconsistency with its effectiveness though. And I did not like how much of a 'Wild card' it felt like. It took about 1.5 hours to fully kick in. and it would only last for 4 hours. (despite what the manufactures say) I then got approved to take 2 - 20mg a day. One in the morning when I woke up and then again around noon. It was very annoying having to plan around this medication for when I think it would kick in and when im sure it would be wearing off. If I was out for a social event I had to literally plan and prepare the perfect timing because when the crash comes, I couldn't stand to stay out any later. Despite all of these inconveniences I still rather liked this medication. And it made me feel really calm, and collected and I felt pretty good. Depression was non existent with this as well.
When it wore off depression started hitting a little harder as I went on.
And then the final deal breaker was the afternoon munchies..
I am aware that this medication is also prescribed for BED. I did not have issues with eating. I followed a strict Keto diet and was already in the habit of tracking my daily calories and macros. I would have a normal breakfast, and maybe a lighter lunch (the medicine did make me not as hungry when it was in effect) but then dinner when it wore off I was ravenous and could not stop eating.
I have seen others mention theories that if you don't eat during the day your body wants to make up for that. While I understand that point of view, I have also done OMAD in the past (One Meal Day) and its a way of eating while you are intermittently fasting and then consume your daily allowance on calories in 1 meal (sometimes two) but this was BEYOND that.
I had absolutely no control over this binge eating at night and it was mentally the most painful thing. As I said I did not have binge eating disorder. This medication seemed to have initiated it for me in some sense. And I just kept doubling and tripling my daily caloric allowance. It was devastating.
I would eat until full. Like Thanksgiving; stuff your face full. And my belly would be stuffed and I still wanted more!
I have experienced “munchies” in the past with herbal remedies, but this was insane.
I decided this medication is not for me even tho it made me feel better mentally it also created some damage in other areas. I couldn't find too munch on Vyvanse CREATING binge eating disorder, so I just wanted to share my experience in case there's anyone else who is, or has, or will experience this side effect.
Today is day 4 without it, and my guts are finally starting to feel a little normal.
The next step from here is Adderall. I have tried that in the past. It's been about 6 years. Hoping that switch will be a better fit.

I've a very old dog with sundowners syndrome (night time dementia). He loves belly rubs and food. Aside from some nighttime issues, he's in wonderful health. He used to be very playful and talkative, not much so anymore. Tonight he brought me his favorite toy, a stuffed toy cow, and plopped it at my feet. I sat on the ground with him for a good while, belly rub and tug of war with a stuffed cow toy time. He talked to me for about 30 minutes. I've no idea what he was saying but he was sincere and very happy. I love him, happy he's having a wonderful night. Just very grateful right now.

I got to ride a Ferris wheel and see loads of taxidermy animals which was sad but they were so beautiful! And we got candy at a candy store and bought sweaters. I finally grabbed two stuffed crust pretzel pizzas and we headed home. I am exhausted.
The kiddo took me out on the town. And it was awesome. I'm exhausted. Wait. I said that already. I have never felt the pain in my legs that I feel currently. I'm laying on a heating pad.
So weird question - how is my body mass getting smaller but my weight is staying the same? Wat. Honestly I'm extremely curvaceous and have super muscular thighs. I'm essentially a T-Rex. My body was built for belly dancing and running. Well. Theoretically. My tummy is smaller but the complex mystery of why the flip I can't lose weight continues.... disregard the pretzel pizza. I don't eat fast food often but dude that pizza slapped.
I'm sleepy.

Fnaf lore
Intro ⁃ Henry Emily and William Afton open fredbears family diner in 1973 ⁃ Henry has a daughter named Charlie ⁃ william Afton has a daughter (Elizabeth, middle child) and two sons (older one Michael, younger one Evan) ⁃ First two animatronics are fredbear and spring Bonnie ⁃ Fredbear and spring bonnie are spring lock animatronics meaning they can retract their endoskeletons and double up as suits for the employees to perform in ⁃ Spring locks set off very easily at the slightest bit of moisture ⁃ There is also another animatronic, designed to supervise and protect Charlie: the marionette (made by henry)
1970s ⁃ During a birthday party at fredbears, the children locked the marionette inside a box so they couldn’t protect charlie while they bullied her and locked her outside the pizzeria ⁃ William afton then drove past and murdered charlie and hid her body in an alleyway ⁃ The marionette eventually escaped and found Charlie who then possessed them ⁃ After Charlie’s death the owners sold off the franchise to a bigger company who then renamed the franchise “fazbear entertainment” ⁃ The new business did well for fredbears family diner and used the franchise to make a kids show and merch, as well as another pizzeria: Freddy fazbear’s pizza ⁃ They made 4 new animatronics for Freddy fazbears pizza: Freddy, foxy, chica, and Bonnie
1983 ⁃ Evan, also known as “crying child” (or CC) has a huge fear of the animatronics because of his brother, Michael, constantly scaring him while wearing a foxy mask ⁃ For Evans birthday, he is forced to have his party at fredbears family diner (most likely because his dad runs the place and set it up there for convenience) ⁃ Michael and his friends pull a prank by shoving his head in fredbears mouth ⁃ evans crying sets off the spring locks, causing fredbear to bite his head, sending him into a coma before he died in hospital shortly after ⁃ Evan possesses fredbear ⁃ Fazbear entertainment then banned spring lock animatronics, and sent off spring Bonnie and fredbear to be stored in the safe room at Freddy fazbears pizzeria ⁃ William afton went to Freddy fazbears pizza and locked off the safe room and reprogrammed the four animatronics to not recognise it
Around 1985 ⁃ afton used the old spring Bonnie suit to lure 5 children to the safe room and kill them ⁃ Names of the children: ⁃ foxy - fritz, ⁃ Freddy - Gabriel, ⁃ Chica - susie, ⁃ bonnie - jeremy ⁃ Fredbear aka golden Freddy - cassidy ⁃ The puppet, not knowing what else to do stuffed their bodies inside the animatronics ⁃ Golden Freddy Carrie’s two souls: Evan and Cassidy ⁃ Cassidy is the vengeful spirit ⁃ The place gets investigated, leading to the closing of Freddy fazbears pizza ⁃ The bodies are never found
Meanwhile all of this ⁃ William afton created his own animatronics: Ballora, circus baby, Funtime Freddy, bon bon, and Funtime foxy ⁃ William uses the animatronics to experiment with soul remnant ⁃ Remnant comes from dead children and can be used to posses animatronics ⁃ The more remnant the more memory the possessed animatronic carries ⁃ The animatronics were used to rent out for kids parties and were kept in a massive storage facility ⁃ William designed the animatronics to lure and kill children ⁃ The animatronics have a child containment hatch inside their belly ⁃ These animatronics become the mascots of a sister location called “circus baby’s pizza world” ⁃ On the pizzerias opening day, Circus baby lures and kills williams daughter ⁃ Because of her death, the place closes for good, but the animatronics are kept to be rented out
1987 ⁃ fazbear entertainment opens up a new Freddy fazbears pizza in an attempt to reboot the franchise ⁃ New animatronics are created: toy Freddy, toy chica, toy Bonnie, mangle and balloon boy ⁃ Facial scanners are added to the new animatronics to keep any child murders from happening again ⁃ Afton sneaks into the place and messes with the facial scanners ⁃ It is implied by phone guy that more murders happened ⁃ The pizzeria goes under investigation again and prepares to close down, but not before one last birthday party ⁃ Because of the toy animatronics being tampered with (and possibly haunted), they start to act strange only around adults ⁃ On the day of the party, mangle bites someone’s frontal lobe off, this incident becoming known as the bite of 87 ⁃ The bite victim is the security guard you play as in fnaf 2 (Jeremy Fitzgerald), during his dayshift after night six (not in gameplay)
1993+ ⁃ fazbear entertainment reopens the old Freddy fazbears pizza, using the same first four animatronics, foxy, freddy, chica and Bonnie ⁃ Because of all the dead children associated with the franchise, no one visits and they are forced to close down again ⁃ On a rainy night, years after the place closed down and left abandoned, william afton sneaks in and dismantles the animatronics, intending to get rid of the spirits for good ⁃ The souls chase william into the safe room, the place he killed them ⁃ Afton, puts on the spring Bonnie suit he used to lure and kill them as an attempt to scare them off ⁃ Because of all the rain and moisture, the springlocks set off and kill him ⁃ William possesses spring bonnie, becoming springtrap ⁃ Someone involved in Fazbear entertainment discovered williams body and walled off the room to hide it in an attempt to not add another death to their name ⁃ Springtrap remains trapped in there for the next 30 years
Meanwhile all of this: Michael edition ⁃ Michael, grown up, tries to investigate what happened at freddy fazbears and his missing sister ⁃ Michael finds out his sister might be in the storage facility where the circus animatronics are held ⁃ His first objective was to find which animatronic his dead sister possessed, but then discovered that his dad was the one who killed the children ⁃ All the circus animatronics combine their endoskeletons and become ennard ⁃ Michael got tricked by ennard pretending to be his sister leading him to getting scooped ⁃ Ennard used mikes body as a skin suit to live a normal human life for a while until he started rotting ⁃ His body got worse until ennard left his body and entered the sewers ⁃ Michael possesses his own corpse and live on ⁃ He later becomes a night guard for two pizzerias (first was the original freddy fazbears pizzeria, and the unsuccessful remake after the toy pizzeria closed down) ⁃ He ends up fired from them for the same reasons: tampering with the animatronics, and odor
2020s+ ⁃ a random company creates a horror attraction based off the history of the fazbear entertainment franchise: fazbear frights ⁃ The company found springtrap and used him as a horror prop, thinking he was just an old broken animatronic ⁃ Michael afton became a night guard there and burned the place down as an attempt to get rid of his father once and for all ⁃ The souls of fritz, gabriel, susie, jeremy and evan are freed, but cassidy chose to remain ⁃ Springtrap survives the fire and becomes scraptrap

⁃ Henry emily starts his own pizzeria with Michael as an employee ⁃ Henry used the pizzeria as a front to gather and store the possessed animatronics: scrap baby, molten Freddy, scrap trap, and lefty ⁃ Circus baby left ennard and became scrap baby ⁃ Ennard found a broken bear mask and became molten Freddy ⁃ Lefty was built by henry and programmed to find marionette and trap them inside of him ⁃ Henry put all the possessed animatronics into a labyrinth and burned the pizzeria down, with michael choosing to burn with them ⁃ Springtrap survives because cassidy kept him alive by trapping him in his own mind, creating a hell for him which is demonstrated in fnaf: ultimate custom night 

Many years later

⁃ an unnamed video game developer made some horror games based off the past tragedies ⁃ Fazbear entertainment doesn’t like this and makes their own vr horror game ⁃ The dev team use a few pieces of code from some old fazbear entertainment hard drives ⁃ This code contained a digitalised version of William aftons consciousness, manifesting as glitchtrap ⁃ Glitchtrap brainwashed a few beta testers to follow his legacy, vanny/vanessa being one of them 

And then whatever security breach is

As always, thank you to u/SpacePaladin15 for the wonderful universe that is NoP! Thank you to u/cruisingNW for proof reading and helping me make this chapter as good as it can be, you're the man! Honestly LoM wouldn't have gone very far without him! If you haven't you should absolutely go read Foundations of Humanity! It's very good AND it just updated!
A big thanks to u/Saint-Andros for helping with proofreading! He writes Out of Our Elements which is a very good one! If you like a good fic in the wilderness and a pair of cute 'friends' ;) you'll love OOE!
Also thank you to u/brotanics! For this wonderful fanart of Taisa. And this one! She's so cute I'm gonna die
And thank you to u/Jimdandy117! For this adorable fanart of Chris and Renkel! Dear god help he's adorable I love him so much
Thank you u/SlimyRage, or AsciiSquid on Discord, for makin' Vengineer Taisa Gamin'. She's absolutely adorable, I love her lil' workers apron. She looks so excited to get to work!
Thank you u/Braquen! For this astounding Pixel Art of Taisa after a few range day dates with Chris! Her little hat and gunbelt are absolutely astounding!
Thank you u/VeryUnluckyDice! For this Artwork of Taisa and Chris as characters from One Piece! I've never seen or read it before but it's incredibly cute!
Thank you to u/creditmission for their wonderful work of several LoM fanfics!
First Prev. Next
Memory Transcription Subject: Taisa, Venlil Starship Engineer, Crystal Star Shipping Co-Owner
Date [Standardized Human Time]: October 16th, 2136
My ear twitches as it catches the first sounds of morning coming from the kitchen, and Chris snorts at the sudden interruption. I delight in the comforting pull of his arms, even if it tugs my wool a little. He draws small circles in the wool of my back, gently coaxing me to wake alongside him, even as his groggy grumble reminds me how long I’d already been awake.
“G’Mornin, Darlin’.” He yawns before planting a small kiss on my snout, eagerly met by my own happy mewl as I stretched and wove my claws through the ‘wool’ on his chest, “Sleep well?”
“Better than I would have thought…” I purred, nuzzling up into his neck as I stretched, reaching for my pad on the bed-side before flicking it on to a notification from over a claw ago that it’d lost signal. “Don’t know if Mama even responded.”
“I’m sorry, Darlin’.” He whispered, pulling me in tight to his chest with a sorrowful look on his face.
“I hope they’re alright.” I whispered back, pressing in close as I pulled my eyes from the empty screen, dropping the pad to fall into the mattress beside us.
“I’m sure they are, hon’.” Chris’ voice poured through me as he held me tight, his hands still gently caressing my wool as the sounds in the kitchen grew ever louder. “Though, if’n we make it out the other side of all this, I think your Pa’s gonna have words for me again.”
“Mama too!” A small burble of whistling laughter filled my throat at the memory of Papa angrily jabbing a claw up at Chris’ hulking form when we’d returned from The Cradle.
“I’ll bet they’re happier to see us alive than they will be angry we stayed.” Chris rumbled in reply, his hand trailing lightly through my wool down my back.
“I hope so.” I sighed, stretching in his grasp, doing my best to work the lethargy from my limbs as the tantalizing taste of whatever Darlene was cooking reached my tongue. “For now let's just…”
“Get through this as best we can? Agreed.” Chris grunted, finishing my hanging sentence as he propped himself up against a pile of pillows and suddenly pulled me against him. A soft bleat of surprise slipped from my mouth, quickly silenced by a wonderfully warm kiss that I eagerly pressed into. A small smile crossed his lips as we hung there, separated by no more than a breath of air before he spoke. “Smells like Ma’s makin’ up somethin’ delicious.”
“Of course food is the first thing your mind goes to once you’re actually awake.” I laughed, my tail slipping from his leg to playfully tap the side of his face as I slid down to nuzzle his neck.
“When Ma’s cookin’ you bet it is!” He replied, placing another, softer kiss on my crown before shifting out beneath me and rising to his feet with a stretch and a yawn. “‘Sides, it beats stayin’ in bed all day just… waitin’.”
“Yea, yea I suppose it does.” My ears drooped at the mention of what was coming, that hanging specter of the Extermination Fleet slipping to the forefront of my mind as I ran my claws through my wool, peering into the old mirror in the corner. “What did you want to do today?”
“First: eat breakfast. Then we feed the cows real quick ‘fore they get upset. After that, I figure we go up to the peak again and watch the lightshow. Hidin’ won’t do us no good anyhow, least we can have a nice view if’n it all comes down.” He answered, his voice stiff in its attempts to be nonchalant, doing his best to stay upbeat despite the subject. “Make a few sandwiches and snacks, take a nice hike and just watch.”
“Think that’ll help at all?” I asked, my voice only just louder than a whisper as I turned from the mirror, finding him already dressed and, for the most part, groomed.
“No clue, but I bet it’ll feel a lot better than sitting in a dank hole waiting for it to end anyhow.” Chris shrugged, pulling his hat down tight on his head as he bent over to give me another kiss. “‘Sides, I bet Roscoe’d love to find his way along for a bit. Though you might have to fight him o’er the peaches.”
A jolt of surprise flicked up my ears as I felt my tail wag at the thought of the dog joyfully chomping at the peaches, his little shoot-tail wagging as fast as he could manage. “That does sound nice…”
“Thought you’d like that. Now, how’s ‘bout we get some breakfast?” He asked with a smile, stepping to the door with a sure stride before swinging it open and gesturing me through. “After you, Hon’.”
The delightful, familiar taste of sizzling potatoes, carrots and all manner of spices I couldn’t recognize filled the air as we stepped into the kitchen to find Darlene hard at work over the stove, whistling happily as she was surrounded by what I thought had to be the entire kitchen’s worth of pots, pans, skillets and tools. Michael and Ryan were sat at the island across from her, chatting idly as Roscoe happily trotted to Chris and I.
A twitch of fear zipped down my spine and out of my tail as the dog looked up to me, letting out a soft whine as he licked his chops and plopped to the floor before rolling over to show Chris and I his belly.
“Good Morn’ Roscoooe! Time for some belly rubs, ol’ buddy.” Chris cooed, stooping over to vigorously rub at the dogs belly, eliciting a rising rumble of groans, pants and whines as the brown and white mass of fur wiggled back and forth happily. “You happy to see Taisa again, bud?”
A lolling, pink tongue fell from Roscoe’s mouth as he basked in the moment of adoring attention. I glanced up, finding Chris’ parents and Ryan watching me hover off to Chris’ side. Michael gave me a nod and a small smile, gently encouraging me forward to Chris’ side. “He still won’t bite ya, unless’n ya consider over-eager kisses to be bitin’.”
The light warmth of a small bloom spread under my wool as I stepped forward, crouching at Chris’ side. Worry flashed through my mind while I looked down at Roscoe’s glistening, pointed teeth before being rapidly replaced by amusement as he let out an adorable, appreciative grunt that sounded far too much like Papa after settling into a good bath to relax.
You’ve come this far already, he was plenty gentle last time you were here paw-feeding him peaches.
My paw slipped into his fur, met by a warm, soft blanket that I hadn’t fully expected as I slowly massaged my claws through his coat, eliciting another battery of pleased groans. Before I knew it, both of my paws were hard at work rubbing and scratching though his fur as if I weren’t touching a predator like it was nothing to be worried about.
Maybe because it isn’t. You’re in love with one, after all.
The distinct clink of plates being set on the countertop snapped me from the luxurious fur of Roscoe’s coat as Darlene’s sing-song voice filled the air. “Breakfast is served!”
“Taisa, I couldn’t rightly convince Michael or Ryan to give up a Naw’lins breakfast today but don’chu worry. I’ve got the vegan options set aside for ya in the green bowls and the blue carton next to the coffee is the vanilla oat…” She paused a moment, obviously searching her mind for a ‘better’ word than whatever the actual one was. “Juice? It’s good to cut the coffee with, if’n it’s a bit too strong for ya. Oh! And the orange pitcher is orange juice if ya really don’t like the coffee!”
I looked across the table, finding four green bowls and a platter amongst a scattered sea of different colored bowls, platters and trays. Ryan leaned forward, gently sticking his fork into a thin, flaky white slab sat atop a blue plate before setting it onto his own.
Is that…
Does it really matter anymore?
Chris pulled his eyes from the spread of food in front of us, glancing over at me with worried eyes as the rest of his family set about preparing their own plates. He slipped into a stool with a soft creak, pulling a plate in front of himself before settling a napkin across his lap. Another zip of fear bolted down my tail at the thought of my Love digging into a cut of flesh like his brother was. I could feel my ears swiveling with anxiety as my tail all but twisted itself into knots and I watched him gently skewer a few pieces of fruit and collect a scoop of some steaming medley of vegetables.
Is Chris going to?
It's lab-grown, isn’t it? Not a single animal was hurt making it so why shouldn’t he? Is it really any worse than a plant when it’s grown in a lab?
My wool flared with worry as I settled into the stool next to him, nervously fidgeting with the plate and ‘fork’ in front of me as I watched Chris’ family take their picks of the spread on the table. Each one had picked at least something off the… other plates before picking a few pieces of fruit: a steaming helping of rice and vegetables, a scoop of those delicious crispy tubers Papa loved or whatever those fluffy, golden pillows were off the green dishes. Chris looked over to me again, his gaze making me feel like I was little more than an upset pup about to throw a fit for not being entirely comfortable.
Disappointment…
That’s not what he thinks and you know it.
But what if he does? What if I a-
You’re not. And we already knew what he was when we made our decision. It had to happen sometime, didn’t it?
I let out a soft sigh, placing a paw on his thigh and meeting his eye as he took a crunchy bite from an apple. “Chris, what do you want to eat?”
“I’m fine with some fr-” He started, talking between chews of his apple, earning an annoyed look from Darlene.
“No, not what you’re fine with, what do you want to eat?” I repeated, pressing my paw a little tighter to his leg as my tail found its way around his ankle. “I… you don’t have to try and dance around what you are for my sake, Love. I love you for you, not your diet. If I could get past the eyes I can get past this.”
“You sure?” He whispered, glancing from me to that same plate he’d kept looking at in the middle of the table with a few cuts of pink and speckled black meat on it. “I don’t wanna ma-”
“Chris, you’ve done nothing but take supplements, indulge Papa’s cooking and eat a genuinely concerning volume of string-fruit for the past few herds. Yes, I’m sure.” I answered, patting his leg and taking a deep breath before watching as he looked to his family for a moment and then back to me.
Chris’ mouth hung open as he tried to stammer a response, some assurance, some empty ‘I’m fine’, before he sighed, setting his hand softly on mine and squeezing gently before I turned my paw over to squeeze back. “… Thank you, Darlin’. Mama’s blackened Red-Drum n’ grits ‘re worth it, I promise you that.”
“Go for it, big-guy.” I purred, doing my best to bolster my confidence as he leaned forward to take a scoop of the off-white grain, dropping it into a bowl before gently laying a sliver of pink and black flesh across the top of it.
A silver spoon cut a piece of the meat free along with a scoop of the ‘grits’, he drew in a deep breath as it hung just before his mouth, closing his eyes with a small smile that reminded me all too much of Mama when Papa made one of her Mama’s recipes. The spoon slipped into his mouth, the food disappearing with it, prompting a pleasant groan from Chris before he leaned back in his chair and let out a contented sigh. “Stars I’ve missed that. No offense to your Pa’ but ain’t nothin’ beat’s Ma’s cookin’.”
“I t-think he might contest that.” I replied, as a shiver passed through my wool at the thought before I quickly batted it away, doing my best to plant my foot against the building anxiety in my chest. “What should I have?”
“Can’t go wrong with Ma’s pancakes and some maple syrup! Fluffy as all hell and just as sweet.Fully Vegan too!” He replied, pointing to the golden pillows before breaking off another chunk of flesh as his voice turned mischievous. “‘Tween that, some fruit and a good helping of roasted vegetables, I’m not sure you could fit much else.”
“Excuse you! I can eat my fill plenty!” I bleated back, pulling my eyes from the contents of his bowl to look over the ‘pancakes’, catching a trio of amused eyes watching us as we bickered. Defiantly I leaned forward and skewered one, plopping it on my plate before collecting the flask of brown syrup, dumping a hardy portion on top of it and cutting a slice free to pop into my mouth.
Stars above was he right.
The dough all but melted in my mouth, the nutty sweetness of the syrup mixed with the light airy taste of the pancake to make something that far outstripped any dessert Strayu I’d ever had. I found myself letting out a trill of happiness as I took another bite, my tail wagging ecstatically at each delicious chew before my plate was suddenly empty again.
“Don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone go through one of Ma’s Vegan pancakes quite that fast other’n Annie.” Ryan laughed before skewering another few golden brown chunks of potato and popping them in his mouth.
“Well lucky for her, seconds are an option!” Darlene replied with a broad grin, gently cutting her meal up as she watched me reach for another delicious pancake. “So, what are you two getting up to today?”
“Well,” Chris mumbled past a mouthful of his food, holding a fist to his mouth seemingly appeasing her, even if only just, before continuing. “I’s figurin’ we’ll take care of feedin’ the cow’s for y’all ‘fore we head up to the outlook to… watch.”
“Oh! Thank you, Son.” Michael responded, sliding his now clean plate away from himself as he spoke. “Guess Ryan an’ I can get some work done in the garage then!”
“I’ll have some snacks and a good dinner ready for you two when you’re done! Won’t do to go up there and be hungry!” Darlene exclaimed, a flash of excitement in her eyes as she started to rattle off options she could have ready for us to take up.
“Thank you Ma’. Whatever you decide on I’m sure we’ll love it.” Chris stated, a small smile pulling at the corners of his face as he scooped the last of the grits from his bowl.
It’s like nothing’s even happening to them. Just like it’s another normal paw.
[Advance Transcript by Time Unit: 8 Hours]
The silence of the forest around us echoed with the sounds of calling birds and rustling leaves that sounded strikingly familiar to the preserves at home, the dragging weight of a ‘lunch box’ that was positively stuffed to the brim with food hung on my shoulder as we steadily plodded our way up the mountainside. The sky far above had shifted, the pale blues and white clouds of day deepening into streaking purples, fiery oranges and brilliant yellows as the sun had begun to set. It still amazed me that he got to see the night every paw, watching what Heartwood River had built an entire festival around, something that most Venlil never even saw in the first place was so common, so beautiful.
It was astoundingly, beautifully, breathtaking.
Chris’ heavy footfalls a few tails ahead pulled me from my thoughts, the soft, hollow clunk of his guitar on his hip accompanied the jangling clink of the golden buckles on his rifle’s sling as he spoke. “Not much farther now, Darlin’. You still good carryin’ dinner? I can take it off ya’ ‘til we get to the top if’n ya need.”
I stifled a snicker as I readjusted the strap, picking up my pace so I wasn’t slowing us down. “I’m fine. Not like I’m gonna let you carry everything, Heartwood. Besides, lower gravity certainly helps!”
“Oh? You gonna jump up to give me another kiss?” He laughed, slowing his stride for a few steps to let me catch up. “Certainly wouldn’t mind any.”
“Oh really? Maybe I will!”” I purred back, sticking my tongue out at him as he shifted the rifle around to rest against his back, prompting another thought to surface in my mind. “Why’d you bring the revolver and the rifle?”
He gave a noncommittal shrug and grunt, his hand rising to rest on the gleaming pistol as the holster squeaked and groaned a little under the weight. “Just… feels like somethin’ I can control in all this. ‘Sides, she’s like an old good luck charm. Pappy always told me I’d never be alone so long’s I kept a good rifle by my side when things got rough. I figure there ain’t nothin’ much rougher’n this.”
A soft mewl of understanding slipped from my snout as the path beneath our feet leveled out, the trees in front of us fading away to a vast expanse of rising mountain peaks and deep, tree filled valleys framing the setting sun like a perfectly placed photograph. “Mama always seems to feel better when she’s got that old rifle of hers around, said having it nearby always calmed her nerves.”
“I’m surprised that monster doesn’t knock her on her ass! I need to get her to let me send some rounds through that thing sometime to feel it out.” He replied with a smile, gently setting his old wooden guitar down, leaning it against the low edge of the rock outcropping before slinging his rifle free and bringing it to his shoulder to look out across the valley. “Ol’ Isabella ain’t never let me down, she’s like a lucky charm ‘s far as I’m concerned.”
“I know you said your ‘Pappy’ gave her to you for those competitions you two used to go to, but I don’t think you ever told me why it was that gun specifically.” I asked, nonchalantly setting my load down on top of the rock outcropping, doing my best to hide the wag in my tail as I tried to nudge him into rambling again. It was always cute when he got excited about something.
Same thing he said about me getting tail deep in oil, spare parts and burnt carbon.
“Ol’ Izzy? She’s a Henry Model ‘60. Same gun the ‘hero’ used in one of our favorite movies set back in the eighteen hundreds, or at least a really nice replica with some customizations Pappy and I had ‘our’ gunsmith down in town do.” He answered, slipping the lever down with the sweet sound of well maintained linkages and religiously oiled parts.
“What’d you have them do?” I asked, leering around his side to stare up at the rifle in his hands, my ears raised with interest as he lowered it and crouched to my height to show me.
“Most of it was to do with the action, bringin’ her up to competition grade. Lightening a few parts here, strengthening a few bolts there, tightening up some linkages over yonder. Cleaned out the rifling, added a loop lever and made the trigger feather weight. Top it all off with the blackout finish to make the gold pop against her ebony furniture and damn if she ain’t pretty.” He let out a chuckle as he polished a smudge from the rifle’s gleaming flank, a fond look on his face as he brought his eyes up to cast a gaze out across the mountain range. “Hell, Pappy always used to joke that she ‘was the only woman that boy’d ever need’. Mama never was a fan of that one...”
Stars I love it when he gets like this.
“Is that normal, for Humans?”
“Hmm?”
“Getting that attached to a firearm? Mama used to spend a whole half-claw taking her rifle apart, oiling it, checking the connections and making sure everything was right before putting it back together again. She said it helped calm her down when her leg hurt.”
“Firearms specifically? No, not really, most people just have something what’s important to them for one reason or another. Pa’s ol’ telescope was another gift from Pappy and whenever he gets stressed out he just sits there and stares up at the sky with it. Ma’ loves her ol’ mixer from the restaurant, anytime she gets wired she dives straight into making something to keep her hands busy…” He sighed as his hands tightened around the rifle for a moment before he leaned it against the rock outcrop and sat down. “For me, Izzy’s one of the few things that ain’t family that’s always been there and… she’s really the last thing I have of Pappy… Man, I miss him sometimes.”
“He sounds like he meant a lot to you, Heartwood… I wish I’d gotten to meet him.”
“He did, Darlin’... He sure did.”
Silence fell between the two of us as I slipped down to sit beside him, the only sounds around us those of the forest itself and the hollow, musical winds of the valleys beyond. Chris’ hand found my back, my tail slipping tight around his wrist as I pressed into him. Everything was quiet again as we watched the sun dip below the distant horizon, the spectrum of vibrant colors slipping away to the deep black-blue of night and its tapestry of stars.
Stars above but that moon was beautiful.
I’d seen it last time we were here, but not like this. This time it was massive, a glowing white spot-light casting down onto us, the rising mountains and the rest of Earth below it. A dusting of black dots zipped back and forth in front of it, Earth’s defenders settling into their final preparations as the Extermination fleet no doubt closed in.
Like it's trying to shine a little light of its own.
Michael had shown us video from one of Earth’s orbital telescopes of the U.N.’s opening salvo, a veritable basin of FTL propelled asteroids they had managed to drop from warp just in front of the fleet had sent them scampering out of the way as best they could. More than a few Federation ships had been turned to scrap-piles against the rocks while a few pawfuls more slammed into each other in their panic. It was crafty, that was certain, I’d never seen anything even close to it tried before in any of the history books I’d read. Humanity, it seemed, was pulling out all the stops they could think of.
I’d be lying if I said it didn’t give me at least a little hope.
“What was the movie?” I asked, breaking the silence with a whisper, doing my best to lift the mood back up to something positive. I nuzzled his neck gently before I rose, padding over to root around in the bag to find what Darlene had packed for us.
“Old western flick, The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly. ‘Bout a few outlaws durin’ the civil war a few hundred years ago tryin’ to steal a bunch of gold and what not. I’d show it to you but… well it’s kinda violent. Don’t think it even made it near the data-dump.”
“Heartwood, after what we’ve gone through I think a ‘rather violent’ movie is the least of things to be concerned about me bolting off for. Once this is all over I think a claw spent curled up in bed watching a movie would be well deserved.”
“Well… it’s a bit more than thaaaat.” He stated, his voice stretching as I heard the smile I knew was spreading on his face fill his voice clear as the river. “That’s the last movie in the saga, can’t just watch one!”
“Then we can make a whole paw of it!” I replied, my voice a happy, joking purr as I pulled the first platter of vegetables and ‘nut-cheeses’ from inside the bag before meandering back over to Chris. “Get some more of that ‘sushi’ from the place you won’t shut up about in Tokyo, put the movies on the holo-viewer in our cabin and just relax.”
“Damn if that don’t sound like a nice date night to me.” He replied, reaching up to snag a slice of apple from the tray as I set it on the rock in front of me.
He glanced over, meeting my eyes as we sat and watched the gathering storm in the void beyond, his voice strong and confident as he spoke, even if his inflection was still horrible. “I love you, Tai… Whatever happens, I love you.”
“I love you too, Chris.” I affirmed, staring back into his eyes before placing my crown gently to his forehead. “Whatever happens.”
First Prev. Next

It’s been a few days now, and I’ve hit a roadblock. Metaphorically speaking and literally. We have tried everything to get back home, but something keeps happening. This is my last ditch effort. If you’re reading this, please send me some help.
Let me explain, to the best of my abilities. While I have a connection of course. Sunday, me and a friend, let’s call him Angus, left Rural Indiana to go on a road trip. My idea of course. He had just graduated college and I thought ‘what a perfect time for a vacation.’.
Me and Angus have known eachother since diapers. Despite being practically brothers, we haven’t really seen eachother in years. Not only would this be a little celebration for my boy, but we could get closer again. Back to the way it used to be.
“Lewis, I won’t tell you twice, I am not sleeping in a fuckin tent.” Angus groaned at me as I threw some of our shit in the bed of my truck.
“And you call yourself a man? Do you know how much money you’d save? Guess that doesn’t matter to some soon-to-be accountant.” I jokingly scoffed.
“Yeah well, I’d rather keep my balls for an extra $100.”
“Who’s taking your balls? Sure as hell ain't me.” I shot him an eyebrow and he laughed.
”Snakes.”
“You got me there Angus.” I scratched my head and stood back to stare at the truck. It was filled to the brim with every necessity known to man. You got your highway toilet paper, emergency snack pack, sunset lawn chairs. What else could you need? A cold case of beer and a dream will keep me from running on e.
“You want me to drive, mister educated? I’m not too fond of maps.” My hands were held up as I inched toward the drivers side of my truck. Angus rolled his eyes and took off his hat.
“Gps and phones do exist.”
“No sir, no can do. This is a tech-free journey.” I groaned before plopping my ass into the truck.
“Yeah there is no way in Hell.” Angus shook his head before setting himself in the passenger’s seat. I grimaced at his reluctance. This would be a sure way for the two of us to connect. He couldn’t shut me out if he was bored. In hindsight, I thank god he was so adamant against my technophobic nature. I wouldn’t be able to write this if he’d listened to me.
We ended up leaving his apartment at 6 o’clock sharp. The sun was barely peeking through over the horizon, and I was still sleepy as can be. I turned the radio on, trying to mask my drowsiness.
Some guy was yapping about the weather, and I thought that’d sure as hell knock me out even more.
“How have you been?” Angus's voice spooked me and I looked over to him.
“I’ve seen better days.” I laughed, staring ahead and tapping the wheel in front of me. Angus only nodded, looking out the window.
“And you?”
“Good. Just nervous is all.”
“Why’s that?” I asked.
“Not ready to get out in the real world I guess. Working 9-5’s, and never getting time to myself.” I understood that sentiment. I popped fresh out of high school and ended up working at some factory that makes pop cans. It’s tiring as hell, and some days that’s all I got the energy to do. It’s a wonder that I managed to get free time with Angus.
We drove on the interstate for some time, eventually me and Angus got out of that weird awkward groove. It was like old times. We joked here and there, trying to pass the time where we could. After who knows how long, I was getting tired of driving, and Angus didn’t feel like taking over. Lazy motherfucker. His trip I guess. We stopped at some motel 6, and it seemed less than welcoming.
“Do we have to stop here?” Angus asked as I pulled into the parking lot.
“I have been driving for 12 goddamn hours. I am not waiting for the next place to stop.” I groaned.
“Come on man, it looks sketchy.” He sighed as he chewed on his bottom lip.
“Oh come on. We won’t be lonely sleeping. Surely they’ve got some welcoming critters.” I joked, nudging him with an elbow.
“Lewis, I’m serious. I don’t have a good feeling about this place.” And he was sure as hell right. I would try and play off the feeling, but man, as I stared at that welcome sign, my stomach just dropped. It looked like a scene from Jeepers Creepers or some shit. Just as I was about to pull out, I noticed my gas was nearly empty.
“Lewis, seriously?” Angus pinched the bridge of his nose as he stared at the gauge.
“We just went to the gas station!” I defended throwing my hands up.
“And did you fill it up?” He shot daggers at me.
“What? No, I asked you to!”
“No you didn’t!”
“Yeah I’m pretty sure I did.”
“No, Lewis you fucking-“ A knock on the window caused us both to nearly fly out of our seats. I looked to Lewis, who looked at me and shrugged. My attention turned to my window, and I saw a young woman, waiting on the other side of the glass. Her finger pointed downwards, as she instructed me to roll the window down. I manually cranked the glass and waited for the woman to speak.
“You boys having any trouble?” She asked, chomping on some indescribable piece of gum. Smelled like green apple at the time.
“Well, ma’am do you-“ I was cut off by Angus.
“Who’s asking?” She laughed at his response before tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
“Saw you two having a screaming match in the car, and most people don’t stop here by choice. Plus your license plate is from Indiana. Long way from home.” Something about the woman was slightly off-putting. Though, she looked nice. Her hair was neatly put up in a bun, she had some waitressing uniform on. Something’s just off about a woman interrupting a car full of screaming men. Or maybe I’m wrong.
“Is there a gas station nearby?” I finally asked, causing Angus to elbow me.
“Well, not for another mile or so. Just straight down that road.” She pointed her finger south.
“We are runnin on low.” I laughed smacking the steering wheel.
“You should be more prepared next time.” She joked with a smile.
“I wouldn’t try getting to the gas station tonight. Some real weirdos like to hang out around here.” She warned as she leaned her body on the frame of my truck.
“Is that a threat or a warning?” Angus asked.
“A warning. Check out the motel. I know the guy running it. See you around. Tell him June sent ya.” She was walking away, waving a hand goodbye. I turned to Angus and made a face.
“What the hell was that?”
“She was creepy.” Angus shuddered.
“ ‘you should be more prepared’ what the hell kinda shit is that.” I stated, letting out a huff.
“I don’t wanna go into that motel.”
“Me neither. Don’t really wanna try my luck with the gas station either.” Angus chewed on his lip as he looked out to the sky.
“Sun’s not setting for a little bit. I say we push our luck.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah, fuck it.” I nodded and opened my middle console. Inside sat a lengthy hunting knife that I always keep in my back pocket.
“Jeez man. Where’s my defense?”
“You didn’t bring anything for a damn roadtrip?” I scoffed and he frowned.
“No.”
“What about bears!”
“Do you think bears are gonna be scared of a hunting knife?”
“I think they may feel at least threatened.” I scoffed digging further into the console.
“Here.” I handed Angus a pocket knife and he sighed.
“Good enough.” We both got out of the truck, and I headed to the trunk to grab an extra gas canister. In that sense, I did come prepared. We both started walking toward the direction the woman pointed, and noticed something strange. There was not a soul in sight.
“Where is everyone?”
“Maybe they heard about the night weirdos.” Angus joked.
“Yeah or maybe we’re the weirdos.” I laughed. We continued walking before a gas station finally came into view. The woman wasn’t lying. It was decrepit, and looked as if it smelt like mildew. I turned to stare at Angus for confirmation, and he simply nodded. We would pay, get our shit, and get going. Angus and I walked up to the gas pumps and immediately the grin on my face was wiped. Cash only, pay inside.
“What options do we have?” Angus asked as he ran a hand through his hair.
“Not much it seems.” I stated, as I made my way to the inside of the gas station. Upon entry, everything seemed normal. There were snacks, lotto tickets, cigarettes, you name it, they had it. It seemed like your average gas station. We both grabbed some road snacks and headed toward the checkout. But, no one was there.
“Hello?” I yelled, looking around. Angus shifted on his feet nervously and I noticed a bell on the counter. ‘Ring me!’ and so I did. Nothing happened, and no one came. I didn’t feel like stealing, but this was a last ditch effort. I leaned over the counter, looking to see how the pump handling worked.
“What do you think you’re doing?” A voice boomed.
“I’m sorry, sir, we just needed some gas. Desperately.” I tried laughing off my crime.
“Were you going to steal?” The man scoffed, stomping towards us.
“No, no. I was gonna leave some cash, right here.” I pointed at the counter and the man simply grimaced at me.
“How much.”
“What?”
“I said how much! I gotta get home!” The large man scolded us.
“$20 on 1.”
“Get your shit and leave.” I paid for all of our things, and we both rushed to the gas tank.
“What was that about?” Angus asked.
“Fuck if I know. Let’s get the hell out of here.” I instructed. The two of us filled the gas canister up. I got stuck holding it, while he managed the food. Our pace had quickened after the incident with the man. I was on edge, and knowing Angus, he was even more so. We borderline sprinted back to the motel. I was fearful that my truck would be taken, or at least the things in the back. To both of our surprise, everything was intact. By the time the truck’s gas was filled it was pitch-black out. I was exhausted at this point, and didn’t feel like I could manage a vehicle. Angus was in the same boat.
“Let’s just stay here.” I offered. Which caused Angus to shake his head.
“No way, Lewis. I’m not staying there.”
“What’s the alternative? Sleeping in the truck?”
“That’s not a bad idea.” He scoffed.
“Fine. Fuck it. We’ll sleep in here.” So, I locked the car doors, put up some shielding on the front windshield, and we both tried sleeping. Angus knocked out almost immediately. I, on the other hand, was fighting the good fight. Everytime my eyes fluttered shut, my anxiety pinched me awake. Something wouldn’t let me sleep. I stared out my window, and everything looked the same. Everything except… a person. They stood tall, next to a lamp post. I only watched, quick to not make any sudden movement. Its body was illuminated by the light, as it paced back and forth. The silhouette was hard to make. Presumably, it was a towering man, keeping himself occupied. The way it trudged forward was unsettling. Like it was on watch. I continued to stare at the shadow, hoping it wouldn’t notice me and Angus’s presence. That is. Until Angus let out the most earth-shattering fucking sneeze this side of Texas.
“Jesus.” I whispered, turning to look at the man. His mouth was agape and his eyes shut tight. He was getting the best sleep of his life. I focused my attention back out the window, only to find the man was gone.
“Shit.” The handles to my truck were being pulled on, aggressively. I couldn’t find the culprit, moving my head around nearly 360. Finally my eyes met with something… somebody… banging on Angus’s door, who was none the wiser. The person seemed like a shadow. I couldn’t tell if it was the lack of lighting or just what he looked like. Before rushing to turn the ignition, my eyes felt drawn back to the motel. I saw her. That woman. June. She was behind one of the windows, holding up a finger in front of her lips. June was right about the weirdos.
Why wouldn’t she be right about this? A smile set upon her face as she noticed my hand leaving the ignition. The shadow eventually gave up, focusing his attention on the rattling of a nearby trash can. It was only a few minutes later, that I felt myself drifting off to sleep. I don’t know how I managed, but I did.
Me and Angus both woke up at the same time, around noon. I explained to him what I saw, and he wrote me off as crazy.
“You just needed some sleep.” He reasoned, popping his back.
“No… no Angus this was real. We gotta get outta here.” I stated.
“I mean, I sure as hell agree with that. This place is creepy.” I let out a sigh and shook my head. Something was wrong with this place. I turned the truck on, and began to drive. I didn’t care if I had everything. I didn’t care if Angus wanted to stop at some gift-shop. I didn’t care if he wanted to keep on going west. I’m taking us home. Kansas aint all it’s chalked up to be. Flat as a board, but filled to the brim with weirdos it seems. It aint winning a first-place prize on first impressions. We drove for awhile. Well, I drove for awhile. Angus jack-assed on his phone.
It was nearly five hours when I noticed that the flatness of the highway was still present. The road signs had been changing, but the road wasn’t.
“Hey Angus.”
“Hmm?”
“Doesn’t that house look the same as the last?” I pointed to an old-farmhouse off in the distance.
“Yeah kinda. That’s funny.” He smiled, turning his attention back to the phone.
“We going the right way?” I ask.
“Yeah GPS says we’re on the right road.”
“How much longer?”
“Says about 7 hours till we’re back in Indiana.” Angus was bummed at first that I was adamant to head home. But he understood. The ‘vibes’ were off, and shit just felt weird. I promised I’d buy him a big ol’ pack of beer and as many strippers as he wanted. He said he’d pass on the beer. His loss. It was beginning to be evening again, and god I aint ever felt fear like I did when that sun set. When I watched it fall into the landscape, I felt so much dread deep in the pits of my belly. Surely Angus was feeling it too. I wanted to stop, but where could I? Corn, corn, and more corn filled my eyes. My body waved back-and-forth, as my drowsiness ensued.
“Hey, there’s a place to stop up ahead.” Angus assured me pointing to a rest-stop. A rest-stop all the way out here? That just don’t make sense…
“Not stopping.” I groaned.
“Lewis, you’re about to keel over.”
“Then you drive.” I barked.
“I’m tired too.”
“Imagine how I feel!” He let out a sigh and I smacked the steering wheel.
“Goddamnit Angus.”
“Let’s just stop. I’m sure it’s fine. You were just seeing shit earlier.”
“Seeing shit? Angus, I was hearing it, fucking feeling it. This ain't right. Why are we still in corn fields for fuck sakes. Somethings wrong.” Angus only shook his head at my outburst. He told me to pull into the rest stop, he was gonna call someone. So, we did. I sat in the truck as he got out, and paced back and forth. The phone was stuck to his head as he waited for someone to answer. I watched him as he stood, illuminated under the lamppost.
The night was deep, no one was around, and it seemed that Angus wasn’t getting any answers. He angrily grabbed his hair, letting out a frustrated groan. I furrowed my brows, and looked down at the wheel. This was my fault. I got us lost, or something. This entire trip was ruined. I just wanted a good time out with my friend. I missed him. It’s been so damn long since either one of us actually enjoyed life. Cherished it. Angus, forgive me. Angus?
My eyes darted around the parking lot. Where had Angus gone? I immediately grabbed my blade, shoving it into my pocket.
“Angus?” I spoke, walking around the stop. No one was out there. You couldn’t hear a fucking thing. Not even crickets. That is, until a quiet groan rang out. My head darted around frantically. Was that Angus? I ran into the rest-stop, stopping to try and locate the sound.
“Lewis.” A pinched voice spoke. Which way. Fuck.
“Angus?” He said my name again and I immediately ran for the women’s restroom. My knife was unsheathed in my hand, and I bolted into the bathroom.
“Lew…” he groaned. I stopped in my tracks, and my stomach dropped. Blood. Thick, wet, and dark dripped into the drain in the middle of the room. The stench of it burned my nose, as I slowly walked towards the sound of Angus. The light of the bathroom flickered above me, and I felt sweat pooling above my lip. The blood was coming from the second stall, fast, and steady.
“You alright Angus?” I asked. He only groaned. His groan. It. Fuck it turned into a low hum. Almost like a growl. I inched closer to the stall, hand almost pressed against the door. What was that sound? Lips smacked together and I could hear something borderline slimy? It was hard to distinguish. Angus let out a soft moan, as a crunch erupted into the air. I stepped back. I grimaced at both the sounds and the smell.
“Lewis?” I heard, coming from outside. My stomach dropped. The sounds stopped, and something fell to the floor. My eyes looked down, only to see a chunk of flesh, sliding toward me. I bolted. My legs pounded into the ground and I slammed the bathroom door shut behind me.
“Nope. Nope. Nope. Fuck. Fuck.” I huffed as I continued running. Angus stood near the car with a pained confused look. I unlocked the truck.
“Get in the goddamn truck!” I screamed and Lewis stared at me with wide eyes. He threw himself in the passenger seat and I nearly flew to get inside. Didn’t even buckle my seatbelt. Angus locked the doors and I jammed the keys into the ignition.
“What’s going on?” Lewis asked, gripping his arm.
“Shut the hell up!” I yelled, pushing the car’s gas. I could tell, by the look on Angus’s face that he saw what I was running from. I didn’t get a good look at it, but I know sure as hell, it wasn’t pretty. My eyes looked over to Angus as we continued driving. He was gripping his left arm tight. I couldn’t see in the dark, but I think there was a cloth being held to it.
“What happened?” I asked, still out of breath.
“An animal bit me.” He answered groggily.
“The fuck you mean animal? Oh dammit Angus. Is it bad?” I asked, trying to keep focused on the road.
“Yeah.” He whispered, and I could hear tears choking him.
“Hey. Calm down, I’ll pull over, I got a first-aid kit somewhere up here.” I assured and he just cried.
“No.” He stated.
“You’ll fucking bleed out. And on my, may I add, new seat covers.” I tried lightening the mood but he was inconsolable.
“No one picked up.”
“What do you mean?”
“I tried calling everyone I knew. No one answered.” He began to hiccup and I felt like shit.
“Maybe bad service?”
“I had 5 bars. I called 911. All the lines are busy.” At that notion, I went quiet. After a few minutes, I found a clear shoulder, and ended up pulling over. I turned the overhead light on, and focused on Angus.
“Just be quiet. Okay?” I instructed, and Angus nodded. The first-aid kit was fortunately filled to the brim, I guess I deemed it necessary. I removed the cloth from his wound and grimaced. It was bad. I don’t know how he hadn’t already passed out. He stuffed the wound in a way that stopped the bleeding, but it was big. The tissue was exposed, and at that point I didn’t know if stitches would do anything. Angus covered his eyes, laying back and giving me free-reign. I’m gonna be straight. I don’t know shit about wounds, and what the hell I’m supposed to do with them.
This seemed thick and deep, so I wondered if gauze would be a good option, just for the time-being, till I can get help? I tried cleaning it, but he nearly screamed. After trying to disinfect the wound, I mimicked what he did with the cloth, and wrapped it tight with even more gauze. It stopped the bleeding for the most part, but I could tell it hurt like a bitch.
This all happened yesterday evening. Now, it’s nearing nighttime again and I pulled the car over near some gas station. No one’s inside, I haven’t seen another person since that June girl. Angus is asleep next to me, he’s really fucking sick. His face is all pale, he’s sweaty, and won’t stop coughing. I don’t know what to do at this point. We keep driving, but all we find are cornfields and random buildings. I feel like we passed by the motel again, but I may be wrong. I think Angus might die… Hell, I think I might die. I tried calling people, anyone, but no one will answer. This is my last-ditch effort to try and find some help. I don’t even know if this’ll post, or if anyone will see it.
I’m stuck somewhere in Kansas, and I can’t find my way home.

As someone who's deeply familiar with bedding, I can confidently say that pillowcase sizes often fly under the radar. We meticulously consider our choices when buying big-ticket bedding items like mattresses and pillows. Yet, when it comes to pillowcases, we tend to take a more casual approach. We simply glance at the pillow size and grab a case that seems to match, often without realizing the impact of an ill-fitting case on our sleep health. But let me tell you, a pillowcase is just as crucial as any other bedding item, and its size matters more than you might think.

Why do we need a pillow case?

As we sleep, our bodies shed dead skin cells, oils, and other not-so-pleasant stuff. Without a pillowcase, all this gunk can seep into your pillow, making it pretty gross over time. Washing your pillow isn't always a solution because the stuffing inside doesn't dry well.
That's where pillowcases come in. They act as a barrier, soaking up all the gunk while you sleep. Plus, you can easily toss them in the wash to keep your pillow fresh.
Pillowcases also protect your pillows from oils on your skin and hair, extending their lifespan. Different materials serve different purposes. Cotton is great for soaking up sweat and oil, while silk is gentle on your hair and skin.
And let's not forget about style! Pillowcases come in various sizes, patterns, and prints, adding a pop of color and personality to your bedroom. So, not only do they keep your pillow clean and cozy, but they also bring some fun to your space.

Dimensions of the pillow case sizes

Usually, pillowcases match the size of your bed pillows. But sometimes, you can mix and match them for your comfort. Next, I'll explain the different pillowcases and which pillows they fit.

Pillow Case	Dimensions	Compatible Mattress
Standard	20" x 26"	Twin, Twin XL, Double Bed, Queen
Queen	20" x 30"	Queen, King, California King, Olympic Queen
King	20" x 36"	King, California King, All King Variants
Body	20" x 54"	All Mattresses

​
First, we'll cover the ones that work with standard mattresses like king, queen, California king, twin, and twin XL. Then, we'll look at special pillows that are used for specific reasons.
Standard size pillow case
The standard pillowcase is 20 inches by 26 inches, made to fit a standard pillow. This size is common for twin and twin XL mattresses, but you can use it with any bed size.
For twin or twin XL beds, one standard pillow is usually enough. But for full or queen beds, you might want two. And if you have a king or California king bed, a couple of standard pillows can work well.
There's also a bigger version called the super standard pillowcase, which is 2 inches longer. It's 20 by 28 inches and fits both standard and queen pillows. Although it's less common, it's good to know about in case you come across it.
Queen size pillow case
A queen-size pillowcase is made to fit a queen pillow perfectly. It's 4 inches longer than a standard pillowcase, so it can also work for standard pillows.
A queen pillowcase is 20 inches by 30 inches, just like queen pillows. These pillows are long enough to cover the width of a queen or king mattress. They also offer some health benefits for people who move around a lot while they sleep. The extra length of queen pillows helps keep the head and neck supported, even if you change positions often.
These long pillows, like the queen size, are great for side and combination sleepers.
King size pillow case
The king-size pillowcase is really popular in the US, just like the standard one.
People who like versatility often go for the standard pillow, no matter what size their mattress is. And those who prefer a bigger pillow usually go for the king size, even if they don't have a big mattress like a king.
King-size pillowcases are 20 inches by 36 inches, making them the biggest pillowcases around. They're 10 inches longer than standard ones and 6 inches longer than queen ones. So, they fit perfectly on a king mattress.
A couple of king size pillows are enough to cover the width of a king bed or a California king bed. They also work with bigger types of king mattresses like Texas, Vermont, Alaskan king, and Wyoming king.
You can use standard pillows on these big mattresses too, but most people like smaller pillows for cuddling and bigger ones for resting their heads.

Specialty pillows and their pillowcases

Besides the usual ones, there are some different types of pillows called specialty pillows. In this part, we'll explain what makes them special, how to use them, and the sizes of pillowcases that fit them.
Body Pillow
They're made for "I" shaped body pillows. But these pillowcases aren't very versatile because they're specifically designed for these long pillows. They're about 20 inches wide and 54 inches long, which is almost 5 feet.
There are also other shapes of body pillows like "C," "J," and "U" shapes. While not all body pillows come with covers, it's easier to find pillowcases for the "I" type compared to the other shapes.
Euro size pillow
The Euro pillowcase fits a square-shaped Euro pillow, which is 26 inches by 26 inches. But these pillows aren't really for sleeping on. They're more for decoration, like leaning against when you're relaxing.
Orthopedic pillow
Orthopedic pillows are designed to help with medical issues and come in different types that support your knees, neck, shoulders, and spine. Because they have different shapes and sizes depending on what part of your body they're meant to help, it can be hard to find pillowcases for them. In fact, you might not find covers for them in stores near you, so you might have to have them custom-made.
Throw pillow
A throw pillow is a small square pillow used for decoration. It's smaller than regular pillows, and their pillowcases are easy to find. The covers for throw pillows are often very colorful, stylish, and nice to look at. They're some of the prettiest you can find among all types of pillowcases.
Pregnancy pillow
A pregnancy pillow is as big as a regular body pillow. You sleep with it by putting it under your neck and hugging it between your legs. These pillows have extra cushioning to support a growing belly.
There are different styles of pregnancy pillows to fit different stages of pregnancy. But it's hard to find good-quality pillowcases for them.

Frequently Asked Questions

How do you measure pillowcase sizes?
To measure a pillowcase, take it off the pillow and lay it flat. If it's a new pillowcase, it's easier to measure.
Next, turn it inside out and lay it flat. Then measure from one seam to the other seam. Don't worry about any flaps or extra fabric, just measure the stitches.
Should pillowcases be bigger than the pillow?
Contrary to popular belief, pillowcases can fit different sizes of pillows, not just their own standard size.
It's a good idea to get a pillowcase that's at least 2 inches bigger than the pillow. This allows room for the pillow to fit comfortably inside. If the pillowcase is the same size or smaller than the pillow, it can squeeze the pillow and make it spill out on the sides. This can lead to discomfort in the neck and shoulders from the pillow being too firm.
What size pillows do hotels use?
Most hotels use standard size pillows for all their beds, whether it's a twin, double, queen, or king mattress. However, the number of pillows provided may vary based on the bed size. For example, a twin bed usually gets one pillow, while a king bed might get four.
Lower-tier hotels often have plenty of standard pillows because they're easy to manage and provide. 5-star hotels, however, prioritize comfort and style, so they may have different pillows for different types of mattresses in each room.
How many styles of pillowcases are there?
The most common styles of pillowcases are housewife, bag type, oxford, and mock oxford. Housewife style is the most common and can be found in many households.
Bag type pillowcases are unique, while oxford and mock oxford are mainly used for decoration.

She was used to disturbing dreams. For a while after the… incident, they’d been full of clowns. Clowns with sickly green eyes, in bad boaters and garish Hawaiian shirts. This one was different, disturbing in a less placeable way.
The room is pristine white and clean. It should be full of light, but something about it is dim and dingy. Large windows line the walls, but outside there is thick smog or mist; only a few slender fingers of light can make it through. There is a seat at one of the windows. A boy sits on the seat, dressed all in white. Somehow she knows to call this boy ‘brother.’
The brother stares out at nothing in particular, unless it is merely the world beyond the walls. She decides to take a few steps closer to him, then stops dead, blood running cold. The brother turns in his seat to look dead at her. He seems almost entirely like an ordinary boy until you see his eyes. They were full of something like hate. Actually hate seems too mild a word for what is in those eyes. Hate is human. These eyes are full of a murderous intent, guided almost it seems by a higher-lower power. It transcends anything human.
In her mind’s eye she sees fat specks of blood spatter on a pitch black surface like drops of rain.
Barbara Gordon jerked half-awake in her hospital bed. Whoa. Damn sedative. She was embarrassingly aware of a puddle of drool next to her mouth and was grateful to see Dick was not around. So where was everyone? Pitch black out. What time was it? Eight? Nine?
Easy, Barb. You nodded off. Dick decided to go do something besides watch you sleep. Nothing to panic about. She was aware of her legs again. Or still, rather. Before the ‘incident’ she would have guessed that paraplegics lost all feeling in their legs. Even after making a hundred new adjustments, relearning how to pull on her pants, coming to terms with how screwed she’d be as a wheelchair-user with a second-floor apartment, even after all that, she still felt phantom pains going up and down her legs some nights.
Well. If everything went alright tonight, that might change. A doctor flown in from South Africa, a quick surgical technique that was younger than she was, and Barbara Gordon could walk again.
Damn, she was tired. Her eyes were stinging from the effort of keeping the lids open. She let them close. Not to sleep. Just a little rest… what was she dreaming about before she woke, anyway? Something about a brother wanting to kill his sister. The details were already slipping out of her mind.
She sighed comfortably. Not sleeping. Just a little rest.
***
Dick Grayson sipped from a cup of truly awful coffee (he had been warned) and grinned. Inconvenient delays aside, he’d managed to kill an enjoyable couple hours in the commissary with a pair of nurses named Pieter and Asa while Kadaver’s Mystery Theater played Thing From Another World. Dick was fairly certain, despite his best efforts, he was hitting it off with at least one of them.
“So you really grew up in a circus?”
“Yep.”
“Sorry, you just don’t seem the type.”
“To bite heads off chickens or balance a ball on my nose?”
“I mean. For example.”
“I was an acrobat. In an act with my parents and my Aunt Harry. We were the Flying Graysons.”
“No way.”
“Yeah. It was pretty normal, really. I had a teacher who traveled with us, I had chores, friends. And when we were on the road we had coffee even worse than this. Tastes like nostalgia.”
Easygoing chatter was interrupted by a noise from a nearby table, the only other one occupied. An orderly was seated there, one whose demeanor rather aptly conveyed ‘sleazeball’ without requiring too much consultation with his appearance. He was, to put it mildly, engaging a coworker standing slightly behind him, with a good deal more physicality than was strictly indicated professional ethics. The object of his affections, evidently accustomed to it, stalked off acidly while the seated orderly smirked.
Turning to his two new acquaintances, Dick raised a quizzical eyebrow.
“That’s Morty Drake,” Pieter murmured, distaste evident. “Not really the most popular guy.”
“Wouldn’t be here if we’d had even one more person apply for the job,” Asa added.
Morty Drake, still unabashed, was now singing softly to himself. “Ohhh, my love, my darling, I hunger for your pie. Oh, IIII’ll be theeere-” Abruptly, Dick made up his mind.
“Hey,” he called across the room. He was aware of Pieter and Asa looking alarmed but pressed on. “That was a bit much, don’t you think? Might want to think about apologizing.”
Drake shot him a murderous glance. “Might wanna mind your own business, dicklick.” To punctuate the suggestion, he pulled a switchblade that certainly wasn’t part of the standard uniform.
Wonder if he came up with that before or after hearing my name. Dick idly noticed a rather skillfully-done tattoo of a skeletal Musketeer on the man’s neck. He found it somehow uplifting to look for redeeming features in unpleasant people. He realized with a start that he still had ‘Maid of Honor’ tucked away in a pocket.
Dick heaved a deep, theatrical sigh. “Oh, I’d really rather not do this. But since you’re testing me. You want to take this outside?”
Drake sneered. “You’re on.”
As Pieter and Asa watched in horror, both men stood, and both sauntered languidly and insolently towards the exit door to the back alley. Dick popped the door open, then was shoved aside haughtily by Drake, who walked out first.
Dick gently shut the door behind him, let the lock click, and walked back to the table, where Pieter and Asa were staring, stupefied. He tossed Drake’s artfully-swiped security pass onto the table.
“Told him I didn’t want to do it.”
***
It took Mortimer Drake a few seconds to realize he’d been locked out, after which he immediately began seething with rage. His keycard wasn’t in its usual pocket, either, leaving him stuck with a few king-size dumpsters. A few moments’ pounding on the door met with no response, though it made him feel marginally better. That goddam skinny pretty boy fruit. Gonna kick his ass.
Mortimer Drake gritted his teeth and stomped in a random direction, trying to orient himself. Nothing looked familiar in the dark. And damn, it was cold. He fantasized about pounding the fruit’s face inside-out in the vain hope that sufficient anger could make him feel warm.
He had walked along perhaps thirty minutes when he suddenly felt a strange feeling that he was being watched. Instinctively his hand went for the switchblade in his pocket, and he stopped to look behind him. Nothing there. But the hairs on the back of his neck were still pricking. He shrugged and moved on, muttering.
It occurred to Mortimer that he wouldn’t be able to get in through the usual entrance without getting a chewing-out for losing his ID. They’d blame him for something like that, never mind the punk in the cafeteria stole it from him. But… there was a window in the hydrotherapy room that was sometimes left unlocked. He might make a discreet entrance through there.
He picked up his pace a bit, cramming down the sensation that the thing watching him was now following him.
***
Harvey Bullock drove rather faster than was advisable through the Old Gotham. Even flooded with light, the city seemed dark tonight, and the darkness seemed to be staring at him, dark like a pair of empty eyeholes. Out in the darkness was the Shape.
Gordon had been right. Bullock had been something very close to a good cop, once. Maybe he’d taken money, when it was offered. In this town, who hadn’t? But he’d known where to draw the line. He’d never roughed up anyone who didn’t have it coming and he’d never turned a blind eye to anything that would keep him up at night.
The first night Michael Myers had run amok in Gotham City, Bullock had been on duty. In point of fact, he had run the bastard over in a car. And then Myers’ insane psychiatrist had given him an unneeded tracheotomy via pen-knife. Hits had kept coming through weeks of recovery. All of a sudden he didn’t have a job anymore, and neither did Montoya. Took a shot, turned out to be the wrong target, and out on her ass. Accusations like that stuck with a cop all their lives, even ones who kept their jobs. Shoot the wrong person, and ‘extenuating circumstances’ were just two words in a dictionary.
Bullock had been lucky enough to land on his feet. But somehow he’d never left that night behind. The nightmares had started not long after he left the hospital. Even though it hadn’t been Myers that slashed his throat, in the dreams it was always that pale mask-face. Some kind of darkness had gotten into him that night, through the wound in his neck, and it had spent the last few years festering.
“I got you now, you bastard,” Bullock muttered to himself. “Evil dies tonight.”
Tonight. By his hand. No need for Gordon, no need for the Bat. This was between him and Myers. Harvey Bullock drove faster than was strictly necessary, into the darkness.
***
The hospital really was quiet for a Halloween night. Even in small towns, you could normally expect a few minor disasters on a Halloween. Evidently the lengthening string of local disasters was persuading Gothamites in the East End to stay indoors after dark. That should have been a relief to Dr. Kinsolving; with staff begging off early to go to parties, they were short-staffed by now. Instead the emptiness felt oddly disquieting. Her footsteps seemed to fill entire hallways.
She nearly jumped out of her skin when she rounded a hallway and came face to face with Dick Grayson.
“Sorry!” the young man said, almost a whisper.
Kinsolving realized with a little embarrassment that she’d yelped, and grasped for her composure. “No. I- it’s Grayson, isn’t it? You were with Barbara Gordon. Are you still here?”
Grayson looked apologetic. “Sorry,” he said, voice still low. Kinsolving guessed that the Gordon girl must have been asleep. “We were waiting on some test results and never got them. I kind of lost track of time, I was-” and there he abruptly cut himself off, blushing slightly. “Actually I’ve been trying to get ahold of someone.”
He said it perfectly patiently, but to the doctor it sounded like the kind of patience that was just impatience trying to be polite. With another touch of embarrassment she realized how long they’d been kept waiting. On a slow night, too. Old Thompkins would have been furious.
“I’m terribly sorry, I don’t know what could be taking so long. Normally I would get some kind of notice from a technician-”
“Would his name be Morty Drake, by any chance?”
“Well… yes. How did you-”
“Never mind.”
“In any case, I’ll go along to the lab and see if the results are ready.”
“I’ll come with you,” Grayson said, innocently enough but clearly brooking no argument. Something about him seemed slightly on edge.
Kinsolving didn’t feel much like arguing, in any case. She was on edge herself. A little company would not be amiss. She walked briskly and Grayson kept pace with almost insolent ease. He had an undeniable charisma about him; Kinsolving was fairly certain he’d spent the last hour or so flirting with nursing staff.
Come to think of it. Where could Drake have gotten to? The doctor pursed her lips. Some day she was going to have to file a report on that one.
“Here we are,” she said at last. “If you could just hold on out here for a moment.” Grayson nodded obligingly.
Kinsolving poked her head into the lab, entering quietly, not quite tiptoeing. It was surprisingly dark. Too dark for anyone to be working. But she could make out someone sitting in the shadows. Judging from the hairstyle:
“Drake,” she said, relieved but annoyed. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
It did not occur to her, in that moment, that Drake was unusually quiet for almost anyone and especially for Drake. It was only as she got closer to him that she began to realize something was wrong. Shondra Kinsolving had been a doctor in Gotham City a long time. She, it must be said, had seen some terrible things- things done by patients, to patients, to doctors, on occasion even by doctors (she still had nightmares about what had happened with Giggling Rendell in Surgery). Nothing had quite prepared her for what had happened to Drake.
It was the smell that reached her first, but she didn’t fully process it until she felt Drake’s shoulder. It squelched. He was soaking wet. And his skin, she could see by the little remaining light, was angry, blistering red, outermost layers peeled and torn away from musculature. Drake had been boiled alive, or drowned; either way his head had been held under scalding hot water- the hydrotherapy tanks, she realized- until he died.
Kinsolving’s hand started to go over her mouth, either to stifle a scream or hold back vomit. She wasn’t sure which. But before her hand could reach her mouth, another one was there. A wet, warm hand with strength like an iron bar. She tried to scream, couldn’t. Thrashed desperately, to no avail. Out of the corner of her eye, through panic, she saw the face of the man behind her, covered in a leathery clown mask of human skin. And she saw, clamped in the other hand, a syringe inching towards her eye, thumb slowly depressing the plunger. It was close now. Closer.
And suddenly the iron grip relaxed, and she could kick free. As she did, she could hear a grunt of surprise and the flapping of pages as a book hit the Shape in the side of its head. Less than a second later the Shape’s legs came out from beneath it, and it plummeted to the floor. She felt something grip her hand, and heard Dick Grayson’s voice. “Come on. Hurry.”
By some miracle her legs began working.
They were nearly out of the room, away from Drake’s mangled body and the nightmare in the clown-skin mask. A short distance that felt like an infinity. She heard a gasp of pain from Grayson, turned around- the Shape, lunging across the floor like an animal, had pulled a scalpel from somewhere, gashed the young man’s leg. A balletic kick to the masked face sent it sprawling once more.
They made it. Out of the room. Safe. No. Not safe.
Sheer survivor instinct was numbing her senses. She could barely comprehend what Grayson was doing as he pulled something- a short metal rod?- from a pocket, and jammed it through the door’s handles.
“What was that thing?” Kinsolving said. Shrieked, really. Her voice was not under her own control.
“Mask’s different. But I’m pretty sure we just met Michael Myers. Serial killer with very messed-up ideas about Halloween pranks.” Grayson said, grimly. He was leaning slightly, sparing a leg; the scalpel must have caught him. Kinsolving half-noticed a second layer of clothing under his jeans as he groped in his pocket.
“Shit.”
“What?”
“I… When he stabbed me, I think he somehow got my knife.”
She barely paid attention to that. “Is that going to hold him?!”
Suddenly the door dented outwards. Once. Twice. Again and again. The brace in the handles bent from the strain.
“Smart money says no. Run.Not ideal conditions to be facing an unstoppable serial killer, he reflected, drawing the other one. Not that facing unstoppable serial killers is ideal itself.
Nothing for it. His thumb squeezed a button on a hidden button in the stick’s base, feeling it extend and hum. Not just a stick anymore. Now it was a stun baton. That ought to at least give Myers a headache. There wasn’t much use in getting into costume now. The opportune moment for a dramatic Nightwing entrance was officially past. So, time for another tried-and-true tactic. As the Master said, ‘if your opponent is of bad temper, seek to irritate him. Pretend to be weak, so that he may grow arrogant.’
“Heeeeey, Mikey Mikey Mikey,” Dick called out, as he moved through the halls. “Didn’t hurt your face too bad, did I? The clown look suits you, by the way.”
He rounded another corner, carefully. Focus. Like Bruce taught you. What can you sense? At the moment, it was the lingering smell of Drake’s boiled flesh. Smelled like guilt. Sorry, Drake. All things considered, you didn’t deserve that. Along with the smell, there was sound-
Dick Grayson whirled out of the way just as a knife, pink-handled and engraved with MAID OF HONOR, stabbed through the air. A nanosecond from piercing his neck, the wicked curved blade gouged straight through the wall next to him. Dick felt his neck muscles tense as he imagined what that blade would have done to him.
He got his first good look at Michael Myers.
The Boogeyman did not look like a knife-wielding lunatic in a pair of coveralls. He looked like a shadow that had come to life, undying hatred in its black, black eyes. The preserved clown-skin mask, wrapped around his head on leather straps, gave his face a nightmare grin, and those black eyes peeked out now through the holes, alive with naked hate. Looking at him.
“Hi, Mike,” Dick breathed.
The Shape, of course, said nothing. But suddenly the knife was moving again, whistling through the air. Dick leapt. As the knife swung wildly he vaulted the monster’s shoulder, running across the wall and landing behind. Pain! lancing through his wounded leg as he hit ground. Ignore.
The stun baton struck Myers once, twice, before Dick flipped backwards out of reach. Just in time; another wild swipe came less than inches from slicing open his belly.
The Shape staggered slightly, only slightly. A hit from the baton should have left even a strong man curled up on the ground in agony. The Shape seemed barely annoyed. Oh, that’s a bad sign. Dick saw the muscles tense. The Shape did his trick well, but it was his only trick- lunge and slash. The day a Flying Grayson couldn’t dodge a knife was the day to hang up the tights.
Again. Alley-oop. Toro! Ole!
This time, ducking down and around, under the knife blow. Another few strong blows with the baton, and something like a grunt of pain this time. Oh, dear. Am I wearing you down?
Again. Again. Avoid the knife, hit him where he was weak. Zap. AGAIN!
The baton had struck Myers no fewer than a dozen times when he/it finally collapsed to one knee, heavy breathing agonized behind the clownface mask. The head dipped, and finally the Shape collapsed to the ground hard enough to shake the hallway. He was beaten.
Dick Grayson sighed. Huh. Okay. Not so tough after all, then. Though for a moment there…
The clown-mask still looked disturbing plastered across Myers’ expressionless face. Dick realized with a start that his hand was reaching out to remove it, almost entirely unbidden by his conscious mind. Time for that later. Get his knife and get some cuffs on him. He undid a spare pair from his belt and reached out, slowly.
Slowly…
He wasn’t sure what alerted him first. Something must have. When Myers stopped playing possum, when he sat upright with mechanical stiffness, he did so fast enough to finally get a good slash in. If Dick hadn’t suddenly sensed it coming it could have been his throat instead of his hand.
He heard himself swear. Felt himself stumble on his wounded leg.
And suddenly the Shape was on its feet and was grabbing him by his jacket, charging forward to pound him into a wall. Dick kept one hand on each of the Shape’s, the one near his throat and the one bringing the knife down at him. The strength was amazing, muscles like steel. Myers slammed him again, twice, vengefully.
Gotta flip him around. Or trip him. Get a foot around his leg-
Somehow Myers sensed his intention. They wriggled, struggled. And before Dick knew what was happening he heard broken glass and felt something sharp brushing his face. He plummeted backwards out the window into the cold night. Falling. Like Mom. Like Dad. Need my grapple.
Only a floor or two up. A short fall. Thought never got the chance to become action. The sickening smack into the ground. The thud against the back of his head, and his vision giving way to blackness.
From the broken window, Myers looked at the ground below, and at Dick Grayson’s quiet, still body sprawled out upon it. He tilted his face, either quizzically or admiringly. This one had surprised him. Come close to defeating him. No worries now. On to the main course. He turned on his heel and stalked for Barbara Gordon’s room.
***
The room was as quiet as a grave. There was not even the sound of footsteps on tile hallway outside, nor was there any creaking as the door opened. It still breezed open, silently, and a horribly patient shadow filled the doorframe. It moved across the floor, still silent, savoring. The low light of the room was simply swallowed up by the shadow, but a small gleam of it glinted off the knife’s blade.
The shadow reached the bedside. The blade rose over the shadow’s head with a terrible slowness, and it struck, plunging deep into the bedclothes. The shadow kept stabbing, almost frantically. And suddenly it stopped. The shadow ripped the bedclothes free and found, not Barbara Gordon’s mutilated body, but a neat line of pillows tucked into the bed. If the Shape felt anything like human emotions, it was probably feeling rage, now...
And down the dark hallway, struggling to crank the handrims both quickly and quietly and keep her breathing steady at the same time, Barbara Gordon was making for the elevator.
Come on come on come on come on.
Maybe the bad dreams had awakened her to the sounds of fighting. Or maybe the fighting itself had awakened her. Either way, the second she was awake, Barbara had been aware that something was wrong. Every instinct in her being screamed at her to run. After a quick push of the nurse call button had failed to raise anyone, she felt inclined to listen to instinct.
Come on come on come on come on. Why the FUCK didn’t I grab my phone? It was still in the pocket of her jeans, back in the room. It had seemed like too much wasted time to retrieve it as she fled. Now she was cursing herself. Phones on the wall. Stop to make a quick call?
Barbara turned her head over her shoulder. Someone was behind her. Something. Some Shape. Different from what she remembered, but horrifyingly unmistakeable.
Nope. No stopping. Barbara’s arms, raked with muscle, began working the handrims even faster. And Michael Myers, with his terrible patient determination, followed.
The elevator was at the end of the hall. Myers was moving slowly, toying with her like a cat with a mouse. Somehow the space of that single hallway seemed to stretch on for an eternity. She dared another glance over her shoulder.
In the half-light she saw Myers was no longer wearing the mask she remembered from those years ago. The pale emotionless face with the ratty hair and black hole eyes was now a tattered, lined clown face, ugly red lips drawn taut in a hideous grin. She had seen a face like that before, leering at her before a hammer pulled back and a trigger was pulled-
Her breath was in her throat again. Just go. Fast as you can. Just go. Just go. Come on come on come ON.
It seemed miraculous that she reached the elevator, almost unreal. Primed for flight, Barbara’s mind barely processed the corpse of the nurse stuffed in, limbs twisted and back bent backwards. The name tag read “Asa.” Don’t think about it. For now, survive.
She leaned overthe arm of the chair, hand slamming against a button almost at random. Ground floor. Most space to run. She hit it again. Again. Again again again. The clown-faced Shape was still striding towards her. The empty eyes, the malicious grin. Close close close come on come on COME ON. He was nearly on her.
The doors slid shut with barely a second to spare, and Barbara heard a hand slam against it furiously. About an eternity later, Barbara felt the elevator descend, and her heart begin to beat normally. The immediate fight-or-flight fear ebbed away, replaced with a sick, horrified feeling for the dead nurse she was sharing an elevator with. Dick, she thought, suddenly. Have to find him. He could be- no. He’s still alive. Find him. No. Prioritize. First get help. This fight isn’t on your terms. So first get help. Easy-peasy. Nearly there, in fact. You’re on the home stretch.
***
Michael Myers, normally silent, grunted with effort behind his new mask. His fingers jammed between the sliding doors of the elevator like crowbars. His muscles strained. The interlock groaned from the effort, then deformed, and, finally, with strength that was beyond freakish, Michael Myers pulled the doors apart. There was a heavy, sick breathing as the black eyes watched the cables of the elevator. Then, with swift and terrible movement, Michael Myers raised his knife and sliced through the cables.

We rehomed a 3 yr old Goldendoodle into our home, named Samson. Male. neutered. We've had him for almost 2 weeks. I was told that there weren't any aggression issues. He has spent most of his life in an apartment without a yard. He's spent alot of his days in his crate with walks in the morning/night and he had exposure to a 6 yr old and a 1 yr old on daily basis. I asked about food aggression, toy aggression, dominance issues, and tried to cover all the red flags, and was told there were no major issues. I was only told that he was skittish around male dogs due to a dog attack when he was younger and that he listened better to the lady of the house more than the man of the house. It was a very fast process in which we welcomed him into our house and we didn't even get to meet him before he was dropped off. He didn't have much training other than basic crate training and the "sit" command. He was only introduced to a no-pull harness the week before he was dopped off due to a friend that was staying with the owner, and the owner made a comment about how much it has helped his pulling during his walks.
Overall, he's extremely sweet. He sweet and enjoys chasing balls, gets the zoomies often and chasing stuffed animals. In my home, it's myself (f, 31), my husband, (35) and my two daughters (6 & 4).
Now that he's in our home, I've tried very hard not to make quick changes, but also establishing boundaries in our home. I am a SAHM with 2 daughter, (ages 6 & 4). We're home often as we homeschool, but we have occasional extracurricular activities. We're in a home with a yard. Currently, planting grass, but Samson gets several walks a day and lots of play time. I've been tying him in the front yard grass to play ball as he gets accustomed to his new home. We kept him on his same food until these last few days as he was on grain-free and I wanted to introduce a grain into his diet. He's taken really well as we've slowly introduced it with his old food mixed in. He's so smart! I spend time each day on training and he's picking things up quickly with positive training using treats. He's pretty much free roaming throughout the day, but I leave his crate open and we put him in the crate at night and when we leave the house. I also try and crate him randomly throughout the day with activities/treats to create a safe place for him. The kids know not to enter his crate.
Now, the red flags, he seemed to attach himself to myself pretty quickly. Which is fine. He follows me around everywhere. But I've noticed if he's in an enclosed area with me (eg. the bathroom) and the girls walk in to talk to me, he will growl at them even if they don't pay him any attention. The girls will be rubbing his belly gently and he will begin growling... and it's not a nice growl. Yesterday, my 4 yr old reached for a stuffed animal near samson's head, and he snarled and lunged while barking and growling at her. (it was not a playful experience) Luckily, i was standing right there, and I had to step in between the two of them and he stopped the behavior. also, He seems to have issues towards men. When new men come into the house, he's peed himself if they move too quickly and he barks non-stop for a few minutes. Which does not happen when new women or children walk into our house. He has already bitten my 4 yr old once. One our male friends was rubbing his belly yesterday, and he seemed to be growling playfully, but then turned and lunged violently to attack him. Luckily, as an adult, he avoided his jaws. It was not a warning nip that I'm used to seeing with dogs that get upset, but it was full attempt at a bite & shake.
I understand Samson is in transition. I am beginning to realize that we did not get the whole story when bringing this dog into our family. I have done ALOT of reading. I know that we're going to see behavior that is out of the norm. But I have small children and Im not done having children. We entertain often. I want to make sure Samson gets the family that is the best for him. We're already signed up for training classes that start this week and I'm going to talk to our trainer Thursday, but I'm trying to figuring out if this type of aggression is normal for a transitioning pet. My heart is hurting because we're getting attached, but I do not have the attention that may be needed to train aggression out of him. I was hoping for a family friendly dog and if my kids can't even play with im without worry about being bitten or if every time a family comes over with small children, I have to be on high alert or put him in his crate, that's not a life i want for him or for us.
I'm looking for someone to tell me that this is normal behavior or this is huge red flags that are going to take alot of work to train out of Samson. I haven't slept a whole night since he came into our home and we're all doing our best. He's seriously the sweetest thing. But bottom line is keeping my kiddos safe. and giving Samson the best life he deserves.

So I got a stuffed crow from my friends. I noticed some kind of sawdust was falling from the belly and right now it's shedding feathers, there is more sawdust falling and moths are crawling inside. I have a lot more stuffed animals, but I have never seen this. What can do to fix it?