Hello! Just wanted to offer a bit of advice for anyone starting this class, like I did, without any Linux experience. Go straight to the Cisco NDG training. You will find everything you need there, with a terminal window to practice the commands right there in the browser. I made the mistake of watching all of Dion's Udemy videos, then failing all of Dion's practice exams, which had questions not covered in his videos. Then I tried the official LPI book on my desktop with my laptop running VMWare and Ubuntu. The book seems to have been translated and is full of grammatical errors that constantly threw me off. By the time I found the Cisco NDG free course, I had wasted a couple of weeks and was extremely stressed about how impossible it seemed to remember the one-letter options for various commands. I'm sure I could have finished this in two weeks instead of four. I just passed with 710 and relieved to be past the course. Still definitely looking forward to learning more about Linux when I have more time.

Midtown Jane Doe, found in Manhattan, New York, USA on February 10, 2003, has been identified as Patricia Kathleen McGlone of Manhattan. McGlone was 16 years old when she was last heard from in 1969. Her identification was made through genetic genealogy; a DNA sample from a relative who died in the 9/11/2001 terror attacks confirmed it.

• Case background:

In February 2003, workers at a Manhattan, New York construction site made a terrible discovery: the skeleton of a girl or young woman, buried in cement. She had been murdered. The deceased was White, aged 15-21, and stood about 4'11 to 5'4 (149 to 162 cm) Her killer tied her body with electrical cords, wrapped her in carpet, and buried her behind a coal furnace. A few personal items were found on the body: a dime minted in the late 1960s, a toy soldier, a ladies' Bulova watch, and a distinctive ring engraved with "P McG."

• The investigation:

Investigators considered many different leads to Midtown Jane Doe's identity. The apartment building where she was found had also hosted The Scene nightclub for many years; had she been a patron there? "Scraps of glittery material", which could have been worn by a dancer or sex worker, were found nearby. Isotope testing on her bones seemingly pointed to a Midwestern American childhood. That fit with what detectives believed: "'[that] she was a young, middle-class woman who probably hopped on a bus to New York full of dreams, but who ended up on the streets,' [NYPD Detective Gerard] Gardiner said." The intersection near where she was found was called "the Minnesota Strip" for the background of many sex workers who could be found there. However, ultimately, nothing came of these tips, and Jane Doe's case went cold...until recently.

• Identification:

Today, 21 years after the discovery of Midtown Jane Doe's remains, she has her name back: Patricia McGlone. Patricia was just 16 years old when she was last heard from in 1969, and contrary to previous theories, was born and raised in Brooklyn. Her identity was discovered through genetic genealogy coordinated by the NYPD Cold Case Squad. McGlone had no close living genetic relatives to confirm the potential identification, so a sample from a matrilineal relative who died on 9/11/2001 was used instead.

• Sources/further reading:

Marc Santia, NBC Channel 4 NYC: ‘Midtown Jane Doe' cold case breakthrough comes after 50-year DNA match to 9/11 victim
Joseph Wilkinson, NY Daily News: NYC teen murder victim ‘Midtown Jane Doe’ identified after 21 years
Doe Network: 337UFNY
Unidentified Awareness Fandom wiki page: Patricia McGlone
Older sources:
Al Guart, NY Post (2003): STUMPED BY TOMB MYSTERY ; COPS CHASE DECADES-OLD CLUES IN PROBE OF GRUESOME ‘JANE DOE’ SLAY
Johnny Pierre, Mind Smoke Records: Celebrating Steve Paul's The Scene
Etc.:
UnresolvedMysteries Writeup on the case from several years ago
Midtown Jane Doe's Websleuths forum thread: includes unconfirmed additional information on Patricia McGlone's life and comments from a genetic genealogist who worked on this case

Hi devs,
I'm an intern at company A (on campus internship) which had the offer letter stating that contract start date 1/sep/23 and end date 31/may/24.
Now this company isn't going to convert me to full time and by extrem luck I got an offer for full time in company B, but this company wanted immediate joiners so I said that I'm available and I will talk to the manager to release me one month early.
Today on 29/April is the joining date of the company B (virtual), and I have my internship company too where I have to go to.
What should I do, what if my manager refuses and says that you have to serve till 31st may.
Am I going to get caught in background verification process (I've not put in any details of company A in the joining form sent by company B as they were asking for previous experience and since internship is not experience) I've put my UAN no. though.
Pls help.

In the spirit of the Latin "novella" concept, I've started writing some stories that I call "sheltered readers," meaning they have a limited number of vocabulary words, but unrestrained grammar. This is in contract to the "graded reader" where the grammar gradually increases in difficulty.
I've finished my second story, and I'd like to share it with anyone interested. It's inspired by The Three Little Pigs: Schamber's Tres Porci Fratres (Latin) - Fabulae Faciles
The whole story is about 3400 words long, using 300 unique inflections, and 90 head words. It has a lot of examples of indirect speech, purpose clauses, result clauses, and conditional clauses. I feel pretty confident in my use of all of these, but I'm open to feedback.
If you spot a typo or a grammar construct that's off (or I just totally botched how to phrase something), feel free to DM me or leave a comment, and I'll do my best to fix it. So far, I'm the only person who's proof-read it.
Enjoy!
​

Does anyone know what could possibly be causing this leak in the wall and ceiling of my apartment?! Maintenance has been very slow to address this issue, it's been over a month, it's getting bigger and the cracks are everywhere. They had a plumber come out and inspect for leaks in the apartment above me, but nothing was found. I'm worried about mold and this looks so bad. Im super annoyed. I want to break my lease but unsure if the fact they are not fixing this would count against them as a reason for me to break my lease. It does state in my lease that after 10 days of maintenance not fixing something like this that i can terminate my lease... Pics of those parts of my lease here too. So #1: why is this leak here? and #2 can i break my lease? I'm located near Phoenix AZ. Thanks for any tips!

I went to look at the original adoption paperwork next. It looked like a pretty standard document for proof of ownership, bordering even on what I would consider a contract Sarah had entered in with ABC. It had all of Finn's information on it; age, weight at adoption, DOB, distinguishing marks, all of it. There was information about ABC, a brief synopsis of who they were as an organization, and that they were the original custodians of Finn. After that, much of the adoption paperwork was simply clauses such as chip transfer, vaccination, lost pet, etc. But for me, two sections screamed at me, and I was dumfounded how anyone could gloss over them. But it made sense as to why Sarah re-contacted ABC for help with rehoming Finn . . .
The first read like this: "If the Adopter becomes unable to care for the Pet, or deems themselves unfit for the type of home the Pet needs, the Adopter must notify ABC immediately before relinquishing custody or possession of the Pet to anyone else. The Adopter agrees to the following ABC relinquishment protocol: when a Pet is relinquished back to ABC, the Pet will be moved into a ABC foster home for evaluation of the Pet’s readiness for adoption and will not remain with the Adopter during the rehoming period. If the adopter has a friend or family member willing to assume custody of the Pet, that person must submit an adoption application and complete a screening by ABC prior to transferring ownership of the Pet. Contractual modifications must be made prior to any transfer of ownership. The Adopter agrees not to euthanize the Pet except in the case of terminal illness or injury, and in that case a licensed veterinarian must perform the euthanasia."
The second read like this: "In the event that the Adopter does not comply with any
term of this Agreement, has misrepresented any fact on the adoption application or in this agreement, ABC shall have the right to recover the Pet from the Adopter on demand. Promptly after the demand, ABC will visit the Adopter’s residence and the Adopter will surrender the Pet to ABC immediately. In addition, without waiving any of ABC’s rights under this Agreement, if the Adopter does not surrender the Pet to ABC, the Adopter will be obligated to pay all costs associated with the animal, said amount to be not less than five hundred dollars ($500.00), to compensate ABC for its costs and expenses in connection with the Adopter’s breach of this Agreement."
Questions answered . . . Indeed, ABC legally owned Finn; not only did the relinquishing document Sarah had signed state such, but so didn't the original adoption paperwork - so much so, that it seemed as if ABC would always own Finn, regardless of if he had been adopted or not. But just because some questions were answered, that doesn't mean others didn't appear. Per the original adoption paperwork, Sarah had no rights to give Finn away whatsoever. The document states that upon relinquishment, Finn was supposed to move into a new foster immediately. So why didn't he? Why did Sarah have to wait a month - to no avail - for ABC to find a new foster home for him, especially when they were fully aware of the nature of the situation, fully aware of how aggressive he had been with her son? Aside from that, another question that plagued me was why ABC wanted me to sign a relinquishment form? Per that document, I could not certify that I was the owner or authorized representative of Finn, due to his original adoption paperwork stating that Sarah could not hand over Finn to anyone unless she had ABC's consent - of which, she had none upon transferring him to me. Also, per Finn's adoption paperwork, upon ABC discovering Sarah had transferred Finn to me without their consent, they should have come to take immediate possession of him - especially since I had no stake to Finn's ownership in anyway. So why didn't they?

Hey all! It’s been a very hectic two weeks after our Early Access release and I’ve recently started finding just a bit more time to respond to some of the questions I’ve been reading up on in the community.
Let’s talk about the elephant in the room. Why Early Access?
Where do I start? How about some clarification about us (Dapper Dog Digital)
For those that don’t know, DDD is comprised of only two full time devs. Myself (John) and Ivan. I handle the games art and programming while Ivan focuses on Level Design and VFX. We’ve contracted some incredibly talented friends to help with art from time to time. During development I would be stuck in programming hell creating the story bosses and all the systems of the game and they’d help catch us up! With that out of the way, let me get to the “why early access”.
Since January we have been operating with practically 0 funds. And since the original plan with our publisher was to release the game in September of 2023 we had to give our publisher a final release time frame and so back in January we told them April. As we trudged along developing the remaining aspects of the game we began hitting massive road blocks with the engine (Construct 3) we use to make BioGun. Ever since late February our engine has been consistently crashing on us. Something that should take 10 minutes can take us up to 3 hours. The crash occurs whenever we try to preview changes. At that point (early March) our release date trailer had already been submitted to several outlets and with no funding we were locked in to a time frame that became very impossible to meet.
We hopped on a call with our publisher and while Early Access was definitely on my mind to help compensate for the lack of play testing, polishing, and a couple side areas that weren’t fully implemented, to my surprise they recommended Early Access. I did not even think that was an option with them. And honestly speaking we are so very happy it became THE option. For those who have played the game so far and have beaten it, even with the bugs that are present (which we are working on), I’m sure you can attest to the amount of love poured into almost every every aspect of the game. As our first ever game we knew we had to debut something unique and different to the genre to stand out. And although we’ve run into our fair share of challenges, Ivan and I are doing all that we can to finetune the game. As a two man team it’s very difficult to playtest so many systems intertwined with the size of our game world. Everyone that has opted has been so incredibly helpful!
I also want to apologize for the wording used with a previous post made by my publisher that said “BioGun is out now!”. I know that my publishers intention wasn’t to confuse anyone and the last thing they wanted was for the community to think we (the devs) lied to you guys.
Thank you once again to those that decided to participate in the early access. Your help has been monumental and the amount of changes/fixes has been absolutely AWESOME. Even if that means I’m stuck in yet another development hell of sorts. At least this one is enjoyable since I get to engage with our small but growing community. 😅
For those that want to wait for the official release, we respect your decision wholeheartedly. It brings us great joy that those that do wait for 1.0 will experience the game as originally intended. All of you are awesome! If you have any questions please ask away!

“Get the fuck out of my house with this ‘ old country’ shit Sylvia, I’m serious. “ I hear my dad say from the kitchen downstairs.
“I give children and idiots three warnings. That’s your first. “ It takes me a second to recognize my aunt’s voice. I’ve only met her a handful of times, and it’s nearly 2am.
“Syl, he’s right, this is crazy. I’m Roma, I’m proud, but your part of the family, and mine are two separate things. “ My mom interjects. Her voice is calm and level.
I woke up about half way through whatever is going on, and I’m fuzzy on the details, but everyone involved is three kinds of pissed.
“So you say, but just because you ignore the other side, doesn’t mean the other side ignores you. “ Aunt Syl replies, I could never quite place her accent, but it makes her statement all the more sinister.
“Might as well make that the family motto.
Syl, there are a couple dozen other kids Nikolas’ age in the family. Half of which are already hip deep in whatever is going on nowadays, you don’t need him. “ Mom isn’t pleading, but I can hear she’s worried.
“Why are we trying to reason with your crazy aunt? Time to go Syl. “ My dad isn’t worried, he’s angry.
“That’s two. “ Aunt Sylvia replies.
I hear a chair squeak then fall to the floor.
“That’s three. “ Sylvia says, her voice is cold, and I swear I could almost hear an echo.
I can hear my dad start to quietly cough, he sounds like he’s trying to talk but can’t. My heart starts to race, I don’t understand what’s going on, but I know it’s bad.
“Syl! Jesus Christ, that’s my husband. “ Mom sounds more offended than scared now. I wish I could say the same.
I stand next to my cracked door, fear beginning to take hold.
I can hear my dad start to take long wheezing breaths, I have no idea if this is a good or bad thing.
“Happy?
Now that any hope of doing this quietly is over, Nikolas and I have a long drive ahead of us. He’s 16, he has a license, yes? “ I hear Sylvia say, sudden footsteps walking up the stairs.
“No, he’s not interested in driving. You can’t take him Syl. “ my mom sounds frantic, Sylvia’s steps are measured and heavy.
“Not interested? You sure we are related? You raise soft children. “ Sylvia ends this with a dismissive laugh.
The few minutes that followed were kind of a blur, with my mom trying to convince me that I was just going to visit family, as if I didn’t just hear everything.
It's a couple hours into a long drive in a small car when my brain finally catches up to the fact that I’m awake, and going 30 miles an hour over the speed limit.
Aunt Syl sits in the driver’s seat, she’s 40 something, olive skinned with pitch-colored hair. Her style, it’s, something.
Her outfit was the middle of a Venn diagram of hippie, punk rock and carpenter. Bracelets, flannel, paisley, and enough piercings I lost count.
“Any chance of putting both hands on the wheel? “ I say, I’m mad, but I don’t even really know why.
She holds up her left arm, and I’m shocked. It’s an ancient looking blued steel prosthetic. She flexes, the clawed, almost mitten-like hand.
“Go through too many steering wheels that way. “ She says with a smirk.
“What’s going on? “ I ask, after an agonizing fifteen minutes of silence.
“You’re a big boy, so if you want the truth, I’ll give it to you. There’s a job that needs to be done, a dangerous job. And I want you to do it.
Now, I want you, not because you’re strong, or smart, or special. We have many strong, smart, special boys.
You, I want, because you’re unknown, and, little one, disposable. “ Sylvia lets this comment hang like rotten fruit.
The next hour goes in silence, at no point do I even entertain the notion this is some kind of joke. Something about this woman’s energy, about the way she carries herself, it scares the shit out of me.
We board a plane, somehow she had all of my travel documents. Even stranger is that we get escorted past the security checkpoints, into first class.
The next words I say to Sylvia are, “You have to put that out! “ as she lights up a short, yellow, hand-rolled cigarette.
She grins, taking a long drag, it smells horrible, the cheapest roughest tobacco odor I’ve encountered.
She relaxes, a cloud of thick, grey smoke forming.
I’m stunned, not a single person says anything. At first I think maybe she’s some kind of, I don’t know, mobster or something.
But that isn’t quite right. No one is looking at her in fear, no one is telling anyone else not to say anything. It’s like no one notices what she’s doing.
“How does she do this? The little boy wonders.
I don’t come offering you a thankless task Nik. I come with an opportunity. “ Sylvia says before crushing the cigarette on the arm of a chair and tossing it into the isle.
I had questions, and between the fear and the confusion I asked every one of them.
The only response she gave me was, “You’ll see when we get there. “.
She was right.
The flight lands, and after an hour or so of driving the world’s oldest pickup through the English countryside, we wind up at an old farm house, in the middle of nowhere outside of Hammersmith.
The sign outside says “ Gritt Auctions” the letters are old, bronze and tarnished, the grounds are littered with car parts, statues, and errata of every type.
Dozens, maybe even a hundred people mill about each stopping for a moment to give a suspicious look at the interloper in their midst.
Sylvia seems amused at my nervousness. I try and give the rough looking folks around me as much space as I can.
“They’re family, mostly, by blood or marriage, with a handful of lost souls and hangers on. “ She explains.
I probably should have guessed, seeing my mom’s family name on the sign, but my brain is basically nothing more than fear, anxiety and jet lag at this point.
“When do I get to know what’s going on? “ I say, waving at a cousin of some form and receive a uniquely English rude gesture in return.
My ear is ringing, and I stumble , the left side of my face burning. I’d say Syl slapped me, but it was more of a polite punch.
“Don’t whine. You’ve been stolen from your mother, treated like a dog, and judging by Robert’s attitude, rejected by your family.
I don’t want to hear whining, you angry, soft boy? “ Sylvia stops and turns toward me. I notice the people around us stop their tasks, interested in our conversation.
“No… “ I begin, not wanting to piss her off.
I don’t even see the next slap, but it puts me on my ass.
“Next one’s with the left hand.
Are you angry Nikolas? “ Sylvia looms over me like a raven.
I feel something before I get to my feet, a hot, quick flash of hatred. A context free rage at the fucked up situation I’m in.
“Answer is still no. Because to be angry, I’d have to know a God-Damned thing about what’s going on.
But my lunatic aunt just picked me up and now I’m standing in the middle of whatever the English equivalent to the Texas Chainsaw Massacre family is.
For all I know, I’m your new King. So no, I’m not angry, I’m annoyed, and maybe a bit worried my gene pool really needs some chlorine. “ I’m shocked at what I’m saying, but I see some smiles, hear a few laughs.
Sylvia’s face seems to soften slightly.
“There’s the Gritt in you. “ She says, starting to walk to an old barn.
I catch up to her as I attempt in vain to dust myself off.
Sylvia opens a small, strangely modern looking door, inside a row of lights automatically flip on.
In contrast to the rotten wood exterior, the inside of the barn looks modern, design wise it’s half way between a hospital and a car repair shop. Equipment of unknown purpose, gurneys and cages of all sizes and types surround me.
Sylvia walks to a door at the back, then pauses.
“Before I open this door, you need to understand something.
There is no fortune telling, or reading of cards here. The cloak of the traveller, the bangles of the gypsy, these are all ways of navigating the world to us. Ways to exist on the fringes of society.
The Gritt family, we trade in the unknown. We find, we collect, and we sell. And ours is no petty collection of trinkets and tools not meant for the hands of man.
Our grift, is livestock. “
The woman opens the door, and what I see, sitting, chained in one corner of the industrial cement walled cell shakes everything I thought I knew about reality.
He's six and a half feet tall, his skin a waxy yellow, and every spare inch is festooned with black stitching, rusted pieces of metal or small splinters of bone.
His face is noseless and asymmetrical, almost as if repaired or modified over and over. One eye is a small, sinister looking orb with a red pupil, the other a massive, almost reptilian thing, wildly twitching about.
He wears no shirt, but a long, grey hide Trenchcoat hangs down to his knees. I start to shake as I see it’s made from layers of stitched human skin.
He sneers at us, long, conical teeth catch the harsh halogen light.
The thing strains against the chains, but they bind him tightly enough to the wall he can barely move.
“You’re not lasting more than 4 seconds kid. Just turn the fuck around. I’ll have you slitting your wrists in the corner by nightfall. “ The thing says, it’s voice is foul, almost a physical force. Grating, rage filled, and with a lunatic edge to it that makes me question exactly how much those chains can take.
“ 3/10, Augustus, who do you think you are scaring with that limp dick of a threat? “ Sylvia says, confidently walking up to the creature.
It snaps it’s jaws with a sound like a rifle shot. No where near Sylvia, but enough to make me jump on the other side of the room.
“If I could stop being threatened and hearing my aunt talk about dicks, I’d be a huge fan. “ I say, something deep within me, pushing past the fear and lack of sleep, “And if anything feels like just telling me what’s going on instead of being vague and creepy, even better. “
The chained thing looks to me, curious. Sylvia smirks.
“Augustus is going to be forced to fight others like him until eventually he gets what’s coming to him for years of evil.
You, are going to stand next to him while he does it. “ Sylvia begins to walk away from the thing, ignoring vile threats of both the violent and carnal variety.
I try to follow her out the door and she blocks me.
“If your still sane and alive in the morning, I was right. Good luck soft boy. “ She says before closing the heavy metal door.
Without her, I feel tiny, that spark of rage is snuffed out and replaced with a cold sense of dread.
“You’re going to have to turn around sometime kid. “ The chained creature says.
I turn, slowly, resolving to make eye contact with the thing. I manage a second or two before looking away, the creature cackles, mocking me.
“Holy shit, they sent me an honest to God pussy. Whole family full of void fucked apes and they send me you?
The best part is, you don’t even get it. I can see what you’re thinking kid, I can see that tiny collection of hormones and goo you vainly call a brain going into overdrive trying to figure this out… “ Augustus starts.
The creature kept going, I don’t have an exact count but it was at least twelve hours.
I can only describe it as a verbal assault. Augustus drew from some dark wells, how it knew half of the things it did scared me as much as it’s clawed hands or, piranha-like teeth.
I lost something that night. The fears that thing drug up, the insecurities it played on, the secrets it knew, it crushed any childlike notions of safety or understanding the world I had.
Don’t take that the wrong way, I don’t mean it toughened me up. It broke any sense of confidence I had, took away any feeling of safety. That God Damned thing in the trenchcoat, changed me.
I’ve lost track of how long it’s been since I’ve slept, but I’m brought a tin plate heaped with eggs, sausage and for some twisted reason, brown beans. And realize it’s been at least a day since I’ve eaten.
I sit around an abused, graffiti carved picnic table with an eclectic combination of family I’ve never met. Syl sips a tea I can smell from ten feet away and looks at me like I’m a used car.
“I’m always right soft boy. Remember that. “ She says.
It takes a half dozen guys built like construction workers, with Sylvia following behind whispering things that wilt vegetation, to wrangle the creature into the back of an old, reinforced horse trailer.
The inside is covered in totems, runes, and other spooky looking errata. The entity becomes sluggish and disoriented as the heavy wooden doors close, and get sealed with a massive brass lock.
My mind begins to wander on the three hour trip through the back country of the UK. The sun sets, and my brain screams for sleep. That scream is silenced by the sense of mounting dread as we get closer to our destination.
We pull up to an abandoned theme restaurant, the parking lot is full, the windows are boarded, and the walls covered in graffiti. The place is huge, more the size of a small stadium than a diner.
The parking lot is full, the sputtering, sparking neon sign flashes “Faron’s Funhouse. “
It’s a few minutes outside of a town I forgot to catch the name of. We can see lights on the horizon, but there’s a feeling of wrong surrounding the building that makes them seem a million miles away.
A half dozen ‘cousins’ of mine move Augustus into a strange, almost coffin-like box made of wood, steel and glass, covered in trinkets and symbols. The thing sneers groggily from within, it’s mismatched eyes rolling in it’s skull.
I don’t hear Sylvia approach, I notice her as she smacks me in the back of the head hard enough to make my ears ring. The old, cruel woman is walking toward the doors of this meeting place.
“Eyes forward, sneer on your face, and walk like you know where you’re going. “ Are her only instructions.
For once, they’re clear and simple. What I see inside easily keeps my attention, and I’m equal parts scared and pissed off, so looking edgy and miserable is my default state.
At one point, this place was exactly what you’d think. I know you’re all expecting it to be a run down, rat infested haunted house now, but it was, stranger than that.
The place was well kept on the inside, but everything was either in use or repurposed to house the couple hundred eclectic customers milling around. In the centre, is a massive Lucite Cube, crystal clear and housing a ball pit, jungle gym and what looks to be a functional canteen, complete with a deep fryer and popcorn machine. It’s a couple hundred meters a side, and shaped like a flawed rectangle.
Smoke hangs in the air, my aunt greets old friends in a handful of different languages, I smile and nod, still trying to understand what the hell this place is.
We see Augustus being wheeled to the Lucite box, Sylvia cuts a laughing Cyrillic conversation short, and her and I make our way to the box that barely restrains the hatred and death inside.
At the other end of the Lucite Cube I see a few people dressed in blue and maroon uniforms ( if I were to guess vintage, from when this place served shitty food instead of violence.), they surround a massive, hulking, lanky thing. It’s obscured by smoke, and poor lighting, but it’s nine foot frame, and unnatural gait are clear.
The box holding Augustus sits about ten feet away from me, inside the massive cage. The front opens, my instinct is to step backward, get as much distance between me and the thing inside as possible, but instead, I’m shoved, before I can catch my balance, a workbook clad foot is in front of me.
I fall and stumble into the cage, I turn around to try and get out as fast as I can, I’m standing inches away from the creature, but I see Sylvia closing the clear, impermeable door.
It hits me then. For the first time since this ordeal started, I realize how grim things are.
Just like everyone else here, I’ve been raised on spooky shit packaged to be marketable. Little monsters, The Adams Family, Harry potter, hell let’s throw Pokemon and the like in there as it’s basically just dog fighting with a cute hat on.
And I thought what was happening to me, was somewhere on the Venn diagram of those things.
But as I see the impassive look on the face of a woman I’ve known since I was a child, ( at a distance or no.) as I’m locked in here with God knows what, I get it. I really get it.
His laughter is like an ice pick, I turn to face him, Augustus brushes himself off, casually looking around the massive arena.
“Just hit ya didn’t it, bud? “ He says, walking over to me, his steps impossibly quick, almost insect-like, “You’re not my trainer, or my wrangler, you certainly aren’t my fucking partner. “, the entity grabs my chin between two clawed fingers, “ You’re a bait dog. Something for me and that new blooded walking pun to fight over. “
My blood runs down his thumb, his grin cracks his face like a rotten melon, the monster pulls down, throwing me to the floor.
A buzzer sounds, and a three minute timer, projected in transparent red appears on the walls of the Lucite arena.
“If I’ve got to hunt you down in this shit-hole, things are going to be a lot worse for you. Stay put, bud. “ The trenchcoat clad thing says, casually walking toward the creature on the opposite side of the arena.
Closer now, I see it clearly. Inside of a pristine uniform, is a twisted attempt at the human form. The torso is lumpen, asymmetrical, but lean. It's arms nearly drag on the floor, yellow, infected looking flesh, weeping pus like a snail’s foot.
It's eyes are black caves, with just the hint of something deep within. It’s face is blank, a torn, haggard looking grey tongue runs over rotting green teeth.
The kid beside it looks around my age, he’s big though, just as confused and afraid as I am. He wears a similar uniform to the creature, but his looks, abused, torn, blood stained. Like it's been handed down from one unlucky owner to the next.
As the buzzer rings, the lanky, disgusting creature moves in a flash, tearing off the kid’s right arm and beginning to chew it.
The blood didn’t set me off, as terrible as it was. It was the three seconds between the act, and the poor kid realizing what happened that pushed me over the edge.
He started to scream, a horrible trapped animal kind of noise. He backs away from the monster beside him, gripping the crushed and torn remains of his forearm.
Augustus laughs, his trenchcoat drags on the floor, leaving a streak of blood as he walks.
“Man after my own heart.
So, I say, we split these sides of beef for two minutes then talk shop for a bit. Fuck these pretentious apes and their show. “ Augustus looks up to the massive thing. It remains impassive, gnawing on the hand.
“Don’t be like that. We both know two halves are better than one whole . Win-win for both of us“ Augustus gets a noise that sounds like an angry sewer pipe, and a dismissive wave of a long snake-like arm in response.
The thing in the trenchcoat shrugs, turning around and stalking toward me.
“You have no luck at all kid, I was going to let you go last.
But the pinworm back there wants to be a dick about things, so looks like things are getting started early. “ Augustus grins, his mouth opening shark like.
I stare down certain death, Augustus radiating fear, seeming to become more demonic with each step toward me.
From behind him, a noise.
I would have just assumed it was some part of the worm-like, filth ridden thing eating. Augustus clears up that misconception.
He turns, shaking, body language that of a wild animal.
“Was that a fucking snicker? A giggle? Are you fucking laughing at me, you literal fucking worm. “ He’s panting, hands twitching like dying insects.
He stands, inches from the other creature, dwarfed by it, teeth grinding, muscles straining.
The worm thing casually tosses the flesh bare hand toward Augustus. As it touches his coat, the arena erupts into a kind of wild, senseless, limitless violence.
It doesn’t feel like watching a fight, it’s more like a car wreck, or natural disaster. Pieces of jungle gym turn into lethal shrapnel as the blurred, filth spewing scrum destroys them.
I see the timer, 2:15. My mind starts to catch up, and I see the other kid, pale, whimpering, and trying in vain to staunch the blood spurting from his arm.
I’m running, low and likely poorly, pulling my belt from my pants, and thanking myself for actually listening when I was forced to take a first aid course for a summer job last year.
The kid is scared, he tries pushing me away, but I’m determined, and not down a couple pints of blood. I pull the belt with two hands, pull it through again and twist, it’s ugly, it’s not perfect, but the flow of blood begins to slow, then stop.
We crawl behind a prize counter, decades old candy and stuffed animals surround us as we cower. A liquid filled roar loud enough to crack the cheap glass cases fills the room.
The kid is looking rough, blood still trickling from the torn stump of his forearm. I see some plastic bags and get an idea.
I lean over to get them, and feel something strange, at first I think I pulled a muscle.
Then there is a deep, burning pain, instinctively I pull away, and turn around.
The kid is on his knees, sanity has left his eyes, a cheap hunting knife in his remaining hand he has a look of panic and determination on his face.
“We have to win. “ he says, lunging at me with the blade.
He’s slow, and I avoid it, but not by as much as I’d like. Blood runs down my back, for a moment I wonder how bad I’m hurt, but it doesn’t really matter right now.
I retreat, but the only thing keeping us from being torn apart by the whirlwind of shrapnel caused by the creatures is the counter, I can’t escape.
It's a stalemate, I’m no athlete, and the kid is built like a rugby player, but he’s missing a hand, and delirious from blood loss. I plead, I try and reason, and I dodge crazed strikes by increasingly narrow margins.
Something large, either thrown or knocked loose destroys the counter behind me. Suddenly all is chaos. I’m thrown into the kid in the uniform, plaster dust surrounds us in a grey cloud.
By the time the air clears the kid is on top of me. I have his wrist in one hand, keeping the split tip of the blade inches from my face.
The angle is too awkward, I can’t get any leverage. It’s not a stalemate, it’s a war of attrition that I’m losing.
I catch a glimpse of the two creatures. The worm thing is striking at Augustus, who stands still, limbs moving in arcing blurs deflecting the blows and tearing off chunks of foul, tainted flesh.
The tip of the knife begins to dig into my cheek. A drop of blood hits my eye.
I grab the makeshift tourniquet with a free hand and roughly yank forward. The kid on top of me screams, bloods begins to pour. Torn flesh and a gore soaked belt hit the ground.
For a moment the weight on me eases up, and I push the knife forward. But the kid, he’s too stupid or far gone to just back off. As I feel is strength start to fade, he presses himself harder.
I expect him to back off as I begin to drive the roughly sharpened back edge of the knife into his neck. But he doubles down, leaning forward, trying to press the knife toward me.
For a moment, every other fucked up thing going on around me doesn’t matter. The world is small, silent, and consists of nothing more than the image of the knife ripping away a fist sized strip from the kids neck.
He backs off when he realizes the extent of the damage. Staring at me shocked, as if just not realizing the consequences of his actions.
He dies slowly, poorly, and within inches of me. I feel no victory, no sense of being a winner, just a dark pit in the back of my mind. The loss of something that comes with taking someone’s life.
I stand, shell shocked, staring at the corpse. My safety the last thing on my mind.
The worm thing is hurt, and attempts to dive into the ball pit, but somehow, defying physics, Augustus grabs it, holding the half ton monster out with one hand.
He arcs the thing, slamming it into the floor behind him, the spray of gore and viscera rivals pyrotechnics, the force leaves a blood filled crater in the floor.
Without missing a beat Augustus starts to walk toward me, making a token effort of flicking pieces of bone and organ from himself.
I’m frozen, I know nothing I can do could stop whatever he has planned.
The creature picks up a jagged piece of lumber, and looks at the clock, “We’ve got 45 seconds of fun left kid. “ he says with a sneer.
But as he passes the counter, and sees the corpse the look of imminent violence turns into amusement.
“How’s it feel to be a child killer, bud? “, Augustus laughs, “Not that I can’t tell from the look on your face.
Fuck me, that knocked some gears loose didn’t it? “
The thing walks forward, looking me over like a collectable.
“I can’t let that go to waste, now can I? “ he slaps me lightly, “It’s going to be a fucking blast watching you break down kid, wonder what drives you nuts first, this kid being in your dreams, or the fact that, at some point I’m going to get bored and start giving you all the pain you feel you deserve? “
Of course, I made it out alive. It’d be kind of hard to have posted this if I didn’t.
But now, I sit in a dingy room in a farm house half way across the world from home. Surrounded by family and monsters, all of which seem out to get me. Being forced to risk my life in some kind of blood sport.
Maybe I’ll be back, maybe I’ll be dead by the next time I get a chance to post anything. If anyone has any help, please, post it in the comments. I’m in a dark place here and no one else seems to be on my side.

“Get the fuck out of my house with this ‘ old country’ shit Sylvia, I’m serious. “ I hear my dad say from the kitchen downstairs.
“I give children and idiots three warnings. That’s your first. “ It takes me a second to recognize my aunt’s voice. I’ve only met her a handful of times, and it’s nearly 2am.
“Syl, he’s right, this is crazy. I’m Roma, I’m proud, but your part of the family, and mine are two separate things. “ My mom interjects. Her voice is calm and level.
I woke up about half way through whatever is going on, and I’m fuzzy on the details, but everyone involved is three kinds of pissed.
“So you say, but just because you ignore the other side, doesn’t mean the other side ignores you. “ Aunt Syl replies, I could never quite place her accent, but it makes her statement all the more sinister.
“Might as well make that the family motto.
Syl, there are a couple dozen other kids Nikolas’ age in the family. Half of which are already hip deep in whatever is going on nowadays, you don’t need him. “ Mom isn’t pleading, but I can hear she’s worried.
“Why are we trying to reason with your crazy aunt? Time to go Syl. “ My dad isn’t worried, he’s angry.
“That’s two. “ Aunt Sylvia replies.
I hear a chair squeak then fall to the floor.
“That’s three. “ Sylvia says, her voice is cold, and I swear I could almost hear an echo.
I can hear my dad start to quietly cough, he sounds like he’s trying to talk but can’t. My heart starts to race, I don’t understand what’s going on, but I know it’s bad.
“Syl! Jesus Christ, that’s my husband. “ Mom sounds more offended than scared now. I wish I could say the same.
I stand next to my cracked door, fear beginning to take hold.
I can hear my dad start to take long wheezing breaths, I have no idea if this is a good or bad thing.
“Happy?
Now that any hope of doing this quietly is over, Nikolas and I have a long drive ahead of us. He’s 16, he has a license, yes? “ I hear Sylvia say, sudden footsteps walking up the stairs.
“No, he’s not interested in driving. You can’t take him Syl. “ my mom sounds frantic, Sylvia’s steps are measured and heavy.
“Not interested? You sure we are related? You raise soft children. “ Sylvia ends this with a dismissive laugh.
The few minutes that followed were kind of a blur, with my mom trying to convince me that I was just going to visit family, as if I didn’t just hear everything.
It's a couple hours into a long drive in a small car when my brain finally catches up to the fact that I’m awake, and going 30 miles an hour over the speed limit.
Aunt Syl sits in the driver’s seat, she’s 40 something, olive skinned with pitch-colored hair. Her style, it’s, something.
Her outfit was the middle of a Venn diagram of hippie, punk rock and carpenter. Bracelets, flannel, paisley, and enough piercings I lost count.
“Any chance of putting both hands on the wheel? “ I say, I’m mad, but I don’t even really know why.
She holds up her left arm, and I’m shocked. It’s an ancient looking blued steel prosthetic. She flexes, the clawed, almost mitten-like hand.
“Go through too many steering wheels that way. “ She says with a smirk.
“What’s going on? “ I ask, after an agonizing fifteen minutes of silence.
“You’re a big boy, so if you want the truth, I’ll give it to you. There’s a job that needs to be done, a dangerous job. And I want you to do it.
Now, I want you, not because you’re strong, or smart, or special. We have many strong, smart, special boys.
You, I want, because you’re unknown, and, little one, disposable. “ Sylvia lets this comment hang like rotten fruit.
The next hour goes in silence, at no point do I even entertain the notion this is some kind of joke. Something about this woman’s energy, about the way she carries herself, it scares the shit out of me.
We board a plane, somehow she had all of my travel documents. Even stranger is that we get escorted past the security checkpoints, into first class.
The next words I say to Sylvia are, “You have to put that out! “ as she lights up a short, yellow, hand-rolled cigarette.
She grins, taking a long drag, it smells horrible, the cheapest roughest tobacco odor I’ve encountered.
She relaxes, a cloud of thick, grey smoke forming.
I’m stunned, not a single person says anything. At first I think maybe she’s some kind of, I don’t know, mobster or something.
But that isn’t quite right. No one is looking at her in fear, no one is telling anyone else not to say anything. It’s like no one notices what she’s doing.
“How does she do this? The little boy wonders.
I don’t come offering you a thankless task Nik. I come with an opportunity. “ Sylvia says before crushing the cigarette on the arm of a chair and tossing it into the isle.
I had questions, and between the fear and the confusion I asked every one of them.
The only response she gave me was, “You’ll see when we get there. “.
She was right.
The flight lands, and after an hour or so of driving the world’s oldest pickup through the English countryside, we wind up at an old farm house, in the middle of nowhere outside of Hammersmith.
The sign outside says “ Gritt Auctions” the letters are old, bronze and tarnished, the grounds are littered with car parts, statues, and errata of every type.
Dozens, maybe even a hundred people mill about each stopping for a moment to give a suspicious look at the interloper in their midst.
Sylvia seems amused at my nervousness. I try and give the rough looking folks around me as much space as I can.
“They’re family, mostly, by blood or marriage, with a handful of lost souls and hangers on. “ She explains.
I probably should have guessed, seeing my mom’s family name on the sign, but my brain is basically nothing more than fear, anxiety and jet lag at this point.
“When do I get to know what’s going on? “ I say, waving at a cousin of some form and receive a uniquely English rude gesture in return.
My ear is ringing, and I stumble , the left side of my face burning. I’d say Syl slapped me, but it was more of a polite punch.
“Don’t whine. You’ve been stolen from your mother, treated like a dog, and judging by Robert’s attitude, rejected by your family.
I don’t want to hear whining, you angry, soft boy? “ Sylvia stops and turns toward me. I notice the people around us stop their tasks, interested in our conversation.
“No… “ I begin, not wanting to piss her off.
I don’t even see the next slap, but it puts me on my ass.
“Next one’s with the left hand.
Are you angry Nikolas? “ Sylvia looms over me like a raven.
I feel something before I get to my feet, a hot, quick flash of hatred. A context free rage at the fucked up situation I’m in.
“Answer is still no. Because to be angry, I’d have to know a God-Damned thing about what’s going on.
But my lunatic aunt just picked me up and now I’m standing in the middle of whatever the English equivalent to the Texas Chainsaw Massacre family is.
For all I know, I’m your new King. So no, I’m not angry, I’m annoyed, and maybe a bit worried my gene pool really needs some chlorine. “ I’m shocked at what I’m saying, but I see some smiles, hear a few laughs.
Sylvia’s face seems to soften slightly.
“There’s the Gritt in you. “ She says, starting to walk to an old barn.
I catch up to her as I attempt in vain to dust myself off.
Sylvia opens a small, strangely modern looking door, inside a row of lights automatically flip on.
In contrast to the rotten wood exterior, the inside of the barn looks modern, design wise it’s half way between a hospital and a car repair shop. Equipment of unknown purpose, gurneys and cages of all sizes and types surround me.
Sylvia walks to a door at the back, then pauses.
“Before I open this door, you need to understand something.
There is no fortune telling, or reading of cards here. The cloak of the traveller, the bangles of the gypsy, these are all ways of navigating the world to us. Ways to exist on the fringes of society.
The Gritt family, we trade in the unknown. We find, we collect, and we sell. And ours is no petty collection of trinkets and tools not meant for the hands of man.
Our grift, is livestock. “
The woman opens the door, and what I see, sitting, chained in one corner of the industrial cement walled cell shakes everything I thought I knew about reality.
He's six and a half feet tall, his skin a waxy yellow, and every spare inch is festooned with black stitching, rusted pieces of metal or small splinters of bone.
His face is noseless and asymmetrical, almost as if repaired or modified over and over. One eye is a small, sinister looking orb with a red pupil, the other a massive, almost reptilian thing, wildly twitching about.
He wears no shirt, but a long, grey hide Trenchcoat hangs down to his knees. I start to shake as I see it’s made from layers of stitched human skin.
He sneers at us, long, conical teeth catch the harsh halogen light.
The thing strains against the chains, but they bind him tightly enough to the wall he can barely move.
“You’re not lasting more than 4 seconds kid. Just turn the fuck around. I’ll have you slitting your wrists in the corner by nightfall. “ The thing says, it’s voice is foul, almost a physical force. Grating, rage filled, and with a lunatic edge to it that makes me question exactly how much those chains can take.
“ 3/10, Augustus, who do you think you are scaring with that limp dick of a threat? “ Sylvia says, confidently walking up to the creature.
It snaps it’s jaws with a sound like a rifle shot. No where near Sylvia, but enough to make me jump on the other side of the room.
“If I could stop being threatened and hearing my aunt talk about dicks, I’d be a huge fan. “ I say, something deep within me, pushing past the fear and lack of sleep, “And if anything feels like just telling me what’s going on instead of being vague and creepy, even better. “
The chained thing looks to me, curious. Sylvia smirks.
“Augustus is going to be forced to fight others like him until eventually he gets what’s coming to him for years of evil.
You, are going to stand next to him while he does it. “ Sylvia begins to walk away from the thing, ignoring vile threats of both the violent and carnal variety.
I try to follow her out the door and she blocks me.
“If your still sane and alive in the morning, I was right. Good luck soft boy. “ She says before closing the heavy metal door.
Without her, I feel tiny, that spark of rage is snuffed out and replaced with a cold sense of dread.
“You’re going to have to turn around sometime kid. “ The chained creature says.
I turn, slowly, resolving to make eye contact with the thing. I manage a second or two before looking away, the creature cackles, mocking me.
“Holy shit, they sent me an honest to God pussy. Whole family full of void fucked apes and they send me you?
The best part is, you don’t even get it. I can see what you’re thinking kid, I can see that tiny collection of hormones and goo you vainly call a brain going into overdrive trying to figure this out… “ Augustus starts.
The creature kept going, I don’t have an exact count but it was at least twelve hours.
I can only describe it as a verbal assault. Augustus drew from some dark wells, how it knew half of the things it did scared me as much as it’s clawed hands or, piranha-like teeth.
I lost something that night. The fears that thing drug up, the insecurities it played on, the secrets it knew, it crushed any childlike notions of safety or understanding the world I had.
Don’t take that the wrong way, I don’t mean it toughened me up. It broke any sense of confidence I had, took away any feeling of safety. That God Damned thing in the trenchcoat, changed me.
I’ve lost track of how long it’s been since I’ve slept, but I’m brought a tin plate heaped with eggs, sausage and for some twisted reason, brown beans. And realize it’s been at least a day since I’ve eaten.
I sit around an abused, graffiti carved picnic table with an eclectic combination of family I’ve never met. Syl sips a tea I can smell from ten feet away and looks at me like I’m a used car.
“I’m always right soft boy. Remember that. “ She says.
It takes a half dozen guys built like construction workers, with Sylvia following behind whispering things that wilt vegetation, to wrangle the creature into the back of an old, reinforced horse trailer.
The inside is covered in totems, runes, and other spooky looking errata. The entity becomes sluggish and disoriented as the heavy wooden doors close, and get sealed with a massive brass lock.
My mind begins to wander on the three hour trip through the back country of the UK. The sun sets, and my brain screams for sleep. That scream is silenced by the sense of mounting dread as we get closer to our destination.
We pull up to an abandoned theme restaurant, the parking lot is full, the windows are boarded, and the walls covered in graffiti. The place is huge, more the size of a small stadium than a diner.
The parking lot is full, the sputtering, sparking neon sign flashes “Faron’s Funhouse. “
It’s a few minutes outside of a town I forgot to catch the name of. We can see lights on the horizon, but there’s a feeling of wrong surrounding the building that makes them seem a million miles away.
A half dozen ‘cousins’ of mine move Augustus into a strange, almost coffin-like box made of wood, steel and glass, covered in trinkets and symbols. The thing sneers groggily from within, it’s mismatched eyes rolling in it’s skull.
I don’t hear Sylvia approach, I notice her as she smacks me in the back of the head hard enough to make my ears ring. The old, cruel woman is walking toward the doors of this meeting place.
“Eyes forward, sneer on your face, and walk like you know where you’re going. “ Are her only instructions.
For once, they’re clear and simple. What I see inside easily keeps my attention, and I’m equal parts scared and pissed off, so looking edgy and miserable is my default state.
At one point, this place was exactly what you’d think. I know you’re all expecting it to be a run down, rat infested haunted house now, but it was, stranger than that.
The place was well kept on the inside, but everything was either in use or repurposed to house the couple hundred eclectic customers milling around. In the centre, is a massive Lucite Cube, crystal clear and housing a ball pit, jungle gym and what looks to be a functional canteen, complete with a deep fryer and popcorn machine. It’s a couple hundred meters a side, and shaped like a flawed rectangle.
Smoke hangs in the air, my aunt greets old friends in a handful of different languages, I smile and nod, still trying to understand what the hell this place is.
We see Augustus being wheeled to the Lucite box, Sylvia cuts a laughing Cyrillic conversation short, and her and I make our way to the box that barely restrains the hatred and death inside.
At the other end of the Lucite Cube I see a few people dressed in blue and maroon uniforms ( if I were to guess vintage, from when this place served shitty food instead of violence.), they surround a massive, hulking, lanky thing. It’s obscured by smoke, and poor lighting, but it’s nine foot frame, and unnatural gait are clear.
The box holding Augustus sits about ten feet away from me, inside the massive cage. The front opens, my instinct is to step backward, get as much distance between me and the thing inside as possible, but instead, I’m shoved, before I can catch my balance, a workbook clad foot is in front of me.
I fall and stumble into the cage, I turn around to try and get out as fast as I can, I’m standing inches away from the creature, but I see Sylvia closing the clear, impermeable door.
It hits me then. For the first time since this ordeal started, I realize how grim things are.
Just like everyone else here, I’ve been raised on spooky shit packaged to be marketable. Little monsters, The Adams Family, Harry potter, hell let’s throw Pokemon and the like in there as it’s basically just dog fighting with a cute hat on.
And I thought what was happening to me, was somewhere on the Venn diagram of those things.
But as I see the impassive look on the face of a woman I’ve known since I was a child, ( at a distance or no.) as I’m locked in here with God knows what, I get it. I really get it.
His laughter is like an ice pick, I turn to face him, Augustus brushes himself off, casually looking around the massive arena.
“Just hit ya didn’t it, bud? “ He says, walking over to me, his steps impossibly quick, almost insect-like, “You’re not my trainer, or my wrangler, you certainly aren’t my fucking partner. “, the entity grabs my chin between two clawed fingers, “ You’re a bait dog. Something for me and that new blooded walking pun to fight over. “
My blood runs down his thumb, his grin cracks his face like a rotten melon, the monster pulls down, throwing me to the floor.
A buzzer sounds, and a three minute timer, projected in transparent red appears on the walls of the Lucite arena.
“If I’ve got to hunt you down in this shit-hole, things are going to be a lot worse for you. Stay put, bud. “ The trenchcoat clad thing says, casually walking toward the creature on the opposite side of the arena.
Closer now, I see it clearly. Inside of a pristine uniform, is a twisted attempt at the human form. The torso is lumpen, asymmetrical, but lean. It's arms nearly drag on the floor, yellow, infected looking flesh, weeping pus like a snail’s foot.
It's eyes are black caves, with just the hint of something deep within. It’s face is blank, a torn, haggard looking grey tongue runs over rotting green teeth.
The kid beside it looks around my age, he’s big though, just as confused and afraid as I am. He wears a similar uniform to the creature, but his looks, abused, torn, blood stained. Like it's been handed down from one unlucky owner to the next.
As the buzzer rings, the lanky, disgusting creature moves in a flash, tearing off the kid’s right arm and beginning to chew it.
The blood didn’t set me off, as terrible as it was. It was the three seconds between the act, and the poor kid realizing what happened that pushed me over the edge.
He started to scream, a horrible trapped animal kind of noise. He backs away from the monster beside him, gripping the crushed and torn remains of his forearm.
Augustus laughs, his trenchcoat drags on the floor, leaving a streak of blood as he walks.
“Man after my own heart.
So, I say, we split these sides of beef for two minutes then talk shop for a bit. Fuck these pretentious apes and their show. “ Augustus looks up to the massive thing. It remains impassive, gnawing on the hand.
“Don’t be like that. We both know two halves are better than one whole . Win-win for both of us“ Augustus gets a noise that sounds like an angry sewer pipe, and a dismissive wave of a long snake-like arm in response.
The thing in the trenchcoat shrugs, turning around and stalking toward me.
“You have no luck at all kid, I was going to let you go last.
But the pinworm back there wants to be a dick about things, so looks like things are getting started early. “ Augustus grins, his mouth opening shark like.
I stare down certain death, Augustus radiating fear, seeming to become more demonic with each step toward me.
From behind him, a noise.
I would have just assumed it was some part of the worm-like, filth ridden thing eating. Augustus clears up that misconception.
He turns, shaking, body language that of a wild animal.
“Was that a fucking snicker? A giggle? Are you fucking laughing at me, you literal fucking worm. “ He’s panting, hands twitching like dying insects.
He stands, inches from the other creature, dwarfed by it, teeth grinding, muscles straining.
The worm thing casually tosses the flesh bare hand toward Augustus. As it touches his coat, the arena erupts into a kind of wild, senseless, limitless violence.
It doesn’t feel like watching a fight, it’s more like a car wreck, or natural disaster. Pieces of jungle gym turn into lethal shrapnel as the blurred, filth spewing scrum destroys them.
I see the timer, 2:15. My mind starts to catch up, and I see the other kid, pale, whimpering, and trying in vain to staunch the blood spurting from his arm.
I’m running, low and likely poorly, pulling my belt from my pants, and thanking myself for actually listening when I was forced to take a first aid course for a summer job last year.
The kid is scared, he tries pushing me away, but I’m determined, and not down a couple pints of blood. I pull the belt with two hands, pull it through again and twist, it’s ugly, it’s not perfect, but the flow of blood begins to slow, then stop.
We crawl behind a prize counter, decades old candy and stuffed animals surround us as we cower. A liquid filled roar loud enough to crack the cheap glass cases fills the room.
The kid is looking rough, blood still trickling from the torn stump of his forearm. I see some plastic bags and get an idea.
I lean over to get them, and feel something strange, at first I think I pulled a muscle.
Then there is a deep, burning pain, instinctively I pull away, and turn around.
The kid is on his knees, sanity has left his eyes, a cheap hunting knife in his remaining hand he has a look of panic and determination on his face.
“We have to win. “ he says, lunging at me with the blade.
He’s slow, and I avoid it, but not by as much as I’d like. Blood runs down my back, for a moment I wonder how bad I’m hurt, but it doesn’t really matter right now.
I retreat, but the only thing keeping us from being torn apart by the whirlwind of shrapnel caused by the creatures is the counter, I can’t escape.
It's a stalemate, I’m no athlete, and the kid is built like a rugby player, but he’s missing a hand, and delirious from blood loss. I plead, I try and reason, and I dodge crazed strikes by increasingly narrow margins.
Something large, either thrown or knocked loose destroys the counter behind me. Suddenly all is chaos. I’m thrown into the kid in the uniform, plaster dust surrounds us in a grey cloud.
By the time the air clears the kid is on top of me. I have his wrist in one hand, keeping the split tip of the blade inches from my face.
The angle is too awkward, I can’t get any leverage. It’s not a stalemate, it’s a war of attrition that I’m losing.
I catch a glimpse of the two creatures. The worm thing is striking at Augustus, who stands still, limbs moving in arcing blurs deflecting the blows and tearing off chunks of foul, tainted flesh.
The tip of the knife begins to dig into my cheek. A drop of blood hits my eye.
I grab the makeshift tourniquet with a free hand and roughly yank forward. The kid on top of me screams, bloods begins to pour. Torn flesh and a gore soaked belt hit the ground.
For a moment the weight on me eases up, and I push the knife forward. But the kid, he’s too stupid or far gone to just back off. As I feel is strength start to fade, he presses himself harder.
I expect him to back off as I begin to drive the roughly sharpened back edge of the knife into his neck. But he doubles down, leaning forward, trying to press the knife toward me.
For a moment, every other fucked up thing going on around me doesn’t matter. The world is small, silent, and consists of nothing more than the image of the knife ripping away a fist sized strip from the kids neck.
He backs off when he realizes the extent of the damage. Staring at me shocked, as if just not realizing the consequences of his actions.
He dies slowly, poorly, and within inches of me. I feel no victory, no sense of being a winner, just a dark pit in the back of my mind. The loss of something that comes with taking someone’s life.
I stand, shell shocked, staring at the corpse. My safety the last thing on my mind.
The worm thing is hurt, and attempts to dive into the ball pit, but somehow, defying physics, Augustus grabs it, holding the half ton monster out with one hand.
He arcs the thing, slamming it into the floor behind him, the spray of gore and viscera rivals pyrotechnics, the force leaves a blood filled crater in the floor.
Without missing a beat Augustus starts to walk toward me, making a token effort of flicking pieces of bone and organ from himself.
I’m frozen, I know nothing I can do could stop whatever he has planned.
The creature picks up a jagged piece of lumber, and looks at the clock, “We’ve got 45 seconds of fun left kid. “ he says with a sneer.
But as he passes the counter, and sees the corpse the look of imminent violence turns into amusement.
“How’s it feel to be a child killer, bud? “, Augustus laughs, “Not that I can’t tell from the look on your face.
Fuck me, that knocked some gears loose didn’t it? “
The thing walks forward, looking me over like a collectable.
“I can’t let that go to waste, now can I? “ he slaps me lightly, “It’s going to be a fucking blast watching you break down kid, wonder what drives you nuts first, this kid being in your dreams, or the fact that, at some point I’m going to get bored and start giving you all the pain you feel you deserve? “
Of course, I made it out alive. It’d be kind of hard to have posted this if I didn’t.
But now, I sit in a dingy room in a farm house half way across the world from home. Surrounded by family and monsters, all of which seem out to get me. Being forced to risk my life in some kind of blood sport.
Maybe I’ll be back, maybe I’ll be dead by the next time I get a chance to post anything. If anyone has any help, please, post it in the comments. I’m in a dark place here and no one else seems to be on my side.

I'm having an issue with a contracting company, they gave me a handbook when I started that I signed and have a copy of. In this Handbook it states employees will get 3 sick days on top of the other PTO they offer. They Honored the paid sick days last year, however when I went to submit my sick days this year I was told that it is for full time employees only, and that it was a mistake I was paid for those days last year. It does not state this stipulation anywhere in my signed handbook. This is for a non-exempt position. Are they required to honor this handbook? They went to send me my offer letter showing that it only mentioned PTO, but instead sent me another employees offer letter which listed their full name, email, pay, and state/location that they were working in. Are there any privacy laws that this information would be protected by? My state is OH, the company and other employee are in MI.

I started a new job a while back. I had agreed a 20% bonus when I started, based on my performance only - not company performance
So they paid me my bonus for the first 3 months. But the next 12 months, which just ended - they are saying that I am not entitled to a bonus. Reason given - for all full years of service (based on company financial years), everyone has to be on the company performance bonus scheme. And the company didn't happen to perform well enough to give a bonus out this year.
This isn't mentioned anywhere in my contract, or any letters, documents of any sort before I started. I have managed to find an obscure HR document which mentions this in the HR system, but it's not what I was told. And my HR record still shows me as being on an individual bonus scheme, not company performance bonus scheme
Is there anything I can do? It just feels like such a shitty and underhanded way to deal with the terms in a contract. Really annoyed, and will be speaking to my manager about it this week. Any recommendations on a convincing argument that I could employ? Although I don't see why I should be convincing anyone. I hit all my targets, feel like I had a great performance. And nobody mentioned that my performance has been under par.
Thanks for reading

G'day so I would like to get temporary residence in Mexico. I'm about to start a job that will pay at the minimum 4,5k a month in June on a 6mo contract. I was hoping to gun for Mexican temporary residency by economic solvency before it goes up again next year but I know all the consulates have different requirements.
I just wanted to know if anyone knows a consulate that won't ask me for a letter from my job and doesn't need me to have been hired for a year prior to applying.
The following apply to me and may or may not be helpful: 1. My brother can easily meet economic solvency himself so maybe that could help my case on a family visa(not holding my breath). 2. I can get Nicaraguan citizenship by descent so maybe with a bit of work I could use their requirements? Assuming Mexico doesn't go by country of origin...(I have no interest in Nicaragua citizenship whatsoever aside from using it as a tool) 3. I'd be willing to jump on a language programme for just over 6 months to qualify for student visa. Could I use that to get residency?

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The point of this post is for me to understand some of what I believe to be "common" behaviors, and to see if anyone has had similar experiences. Sorry if this is long, I typed it out and didn't realize it would be haha. I guess this turned into a bit of a vent.
Background: We are both 35, Me (m) her (F), we both have a child from previous relationships. We met in Oct of 2019, we had gone to HS together but never talked or hung out then. We met up through mutual friends, and began hanging out often right out of the gate. This were whirlwind, we slept together on the first date, which she told me "She never does". Told me she slept better in my presence than any other time in her life. I was the hero, and all was well. (Same old story lol) and by Jan we were talking about living together. The onset of Covid rushed this, as lockdowns began, we grabbed up a rental and moved in together. We wanted to at least be together as a family if Lockdowns were coming. Thigs were still good for months, and we both handwaved the speed at which thing moved, happily blaming it on covid. We went on an amazing vacation in June of that year (road trip, the roads were empty, again, because Covid.) We got a puppy on this trip and surprised our kids when we got back. By this time there had been a few arguments, but nothing I saw (at the time) as any red flags. She brought her ex up somewhat often in the beginning, and we laughed at some of his antics together. He isnt the brightest bulb, but I didnt see this as a red flag at the time. However, as the summer waned, the arguments kicked up in frequency and intensity. by September, she was telling me things like "you should find someone better" "Im not worth it" etc. I was heartbroken, but now I see this as a "soft exit" she was attempting. I didn't bite, I loved her and was devoted. The arguments got worse, and her "soft exit" turned hard, fast. By late Nov, she was a miserable, stressed angry person who was never happy with anything. Then she kicked me out (and my son, who was 7 at the time). I was on the lease, and didnt actually have to leave, but I did because I wanted to be amicable and I was still so in love with her. Kicked out last week of Nov. She had a new BF by Christmas, and spent the next few months in NC. Come Feb 2021, she started reaching out occasionally. Initially about something benign, like mail. then they just kept going. I was asking to see her, etc, she kept telling me "me talking to you makes NEWBF uncomfortable, we shouldn't" etc etc. I said I didnt care if he was uncomfortable, HER AND I were meant to be etc etc. This back and forth continued through that summer, and in Aug she broke up with him, and I moved back in that Sept. Whirlwind # 2, which as you all my have guessed, didn't last as long. By Jan-March of 2022, we were arguing a lot again, and things were starting to feel awful again between us. My SIL was helping her get a new much more lucrative job, and it "wasn't happening fast enough" and she was all kinds of touchy, angry all the time. Eventually she DID end up getting the job and working from home, and was much happier. Looking back however, I believe this changed effect her view of my "value", as she was now making more than I was. She started complaining a lot about me not pulling my weight, but our budget and exepenses hadnt changed, nor had the amount I was contributing to these things. Seasons effect her mood quite a lot, and by Spring we had gotten a 2nd puppy, and things were again pretty happy most of the time. We planned a 2nd vacation, for the same week in June as the first one, and this time we took our kids. Amazing vacation, best week of my life. During this vacation, i bought a ring at a local mom and pop jewler, and with the help of the kids, popped the question during the high point of our vacation. She was thrilled, kids were thrilled. We head home, 2 weeks of happy, excited wedding brainstorming. Then she went cold. The romance died off very quickly. She started going to a new Gym, and would talk to me about people (guys) she had met there, and brought them up often, talking about how cool they were. I eventually told her these felt like comparisons and I wasnt a big fan, but was glad she was enjoying a new sport. Then my annual "Summers end" camping trip with friends was a drama fest, where she drank too much, and was very flirty (just BARELY mild enough to be able to brush it off when asked about it) with one of my best friends. He was even offput by it, which he and I discussed after the fact. The last few weeks of summer were pretty awful. She caused a big scene at my brothers house, and cried, smearing her makeup, and came out looking a mess. My SIL told her to go back in, as to not worry the kids and she said "they should see this, they should see how me makes me FEEL!" So by late Sept. she was telling me to leave again, I was trying to fix things. One morining right after I put the kids on the bus, she blew up at me over my angry response to two weeks of passive agressive comments about a stupid water jug. She told me she wanted me gone then and there. My son got on the bus, and never got to come home. Never said goodbye to his step sister, his dogs, his house (which he LOVED), his classmates or anything else. I had to pull him from that school, a week into 2nd grade, so Myexwife and I could enroll him in the town she lives in. I had nowhere to go. I had stayed 9 months at a friends house the first breakup, but that wasnt an option this time. I ended up having to stay in a camper for 6 months, which STRONGLY jeopardized my 50/50 custody. Because kids shouldnt sleep in campers through the winter. OBVIOUSLY. 2 months after kicking me out, she told me she found out she had been pregnant since July, and hadn't known. She said she was scheduling a last min termination. We hadn't talked in weeks at that point. She went and did that, and we went back to NC. She stared dating a new guy, from the gym. That didn't last, and she was hitting me up for hookups by January (which had to be secret, I was blocked on SOcial Media). I lapped it up like the eager doormat I was. She went cold on me again in Feb, started dating another new guy, which lasted another few months. Recycle for a month in July, and was very upfront and cold about it being purely physical. I told her that was really hard as i obviously still loved her. She told me she was "figuring herself out, and was blissfully unattached". I missed her, our home, our dogs, our family. She knew it. She slow faded me through August, and I stopped reaching out. October of last year rolled around, and I shot her a message, I was curious, still hurt, and lonely. She told me she met someone new, he made her SO HAPPY, and that i shouldn't reach out anymore. I said Okay, and didn't. I sent a very business-like, typed, letter in early Nov, asking for the last of my belongings back. That was all that was in the letter. Her new BF texted me and was a vulgar, crass machismo tough guy. Couldn't articulate a full sentence, but was basically telling me to "leave them alone, give up, stop bothering them" I was confused and told him I hadn't reached out since Oct and Wasnt planning to, especially after that awful conversation. Months of peace and healing began. Then, as I was living my life, back in Jan, I got more angry texts from him, this time about some mail that had shown up with my name on it (i had no idea). Again i was accused of reaching out, being a stalker, all sorts of nonsense. I again told him I didn't care, and that if he reached out like this again I would take needed steps, blocked him, and went on with life. Then, it happened AGAIN about 2 weeks ago. I got a call from her number, which I didn't answer, then a stream of angry texts, inviting me to go fight him, him threatining me, accusing me of having been abusive of her (she said the same thing to me about her ex) him telling me how much of a "B***h and a P***Y, and a loser" he has be told I am. He bragged that he "put a ring on it". I had to laugh at that one, (good luck dude) again I said, last straw, if i hear from you again, Im calling the cops. I dont care, go away etc. I haven't heard anything since. However she did reach out to my SIL the day after, about something totally random, and they hadnt spoken in ages, but had been very close when we were together. So odd.
Here are the points I want to address. 1. Serial Monogamy. - Can they ever be alone? like, EVER?

1. Cognitive Dissonance - It took me SO LONG to realize that the person I fell in love with, and STAYED in love with way too long was simply a smokescreen. Then during the breakups, I feel sooooo "less than" to be replaced by obvious downgrades. However, only recently, I've truly come to understand that All of the "In love" versions of her are equally fake, and uniquely cultivated for each new man. The person I loved was never real, i think it just felt "realer" to me, because were together longer, and we were what felt like, a perfect match. The argumentative, manipulative, callous and unscrupulous person i knew at the end of relationships was the real her. I thought that was the broken, backside of her perfect shining coin all along. Nope. Other way around.
   
2. Serial Recycles - She doesn't do this with every guy, so why did she do it with me? (although, I think I've seen the last of the recycle attempts, and I wouldn't participate in them at this point either.
   
3. Patterns - Has anyone else had a partner that is very sensitive to things like changing seasons, seasonal depression, or even erratic behavior near the full moon? All of these things applied to her, and one could almost set a calendar to her flighty moods and outbursts.
   
4. Projection, Smear campaign, and re-writing history - All the awful things she told Newguy, (whom i dont know and have never met) to make him hate me so much, but I fell victim to the same mind games about her ex before me. I can't understand what they see as profit for triangulation though. That part has always confused me greatly. What is to be gained by doing this? What's more is that I think she actually ends up believing these smear lies she makes up to crap on her ex, in order to praise the newguy. Then there are all the arguments that were entirely my fault, despite being very conveniently timed for her, and very manufactured feeling.
   

So again, sorry for length. Have any of you had similar experiences? Are these like, default BPD behaviors? Everyday I look back, and am equally amazed that I remained blind for so long, that I let this be done to me, and scariest of all, the "boiling frog" circumstances under which it happened, and progressed without my noticing it.
I can even now, say, knowing all I do, that she is very smart, charismatic, and so convincing. I've heard her brag about how she can manipulate co-workers and subordinates, friends and family. The flags were there all along, but would'nt you know? red flags are hard to see while wearing rose colored glasses.
Thank you from coming to my TEDtalk haha.