Signs a scorpio man has feelings for you

From my Fetlife. Prepare for cringefest. Tell me your thoughts about my cringe.
Hello, everyone. I'd like to introduce myself to you.
Ever since I turned 20, I've been dreaming of becoming another woman's housewife (or, as I like to say, a "wifey"), but I've never exactly known how to make it become a reality. I've always been an extremely submissive person and life hasn't treated me very well both for being like that and for trying not to be like that. I score extremely highly in agreeableness and I take great pleasure in serving those I care for. Specifically and preferably, a woman I love and who also loves me. Today, I'm looking for a romantic, ordinary and 100% monogamous relationship with a woman, but one that includes the element of dominance and submission and the possibility of me being her full-time housewife. While she works, I take care of the house. When she comes home, I take care of her. Always very lovingly and completely given to her body and soul as well as to the household's domestic duties. In practice, I want to be the woman in the relationship. I want to go far beyond the basics such as cooking and cleaning: I want to be responsible for doing her nails, her make-up and giving her massages whenever she wants them. I want to learn to cook everything she likes to eat. Maybe even learn gardening to take care of her plants. Perhaps the origin of this is an innate need of mine to be necessary and useful to someone and I guess that is how it is.
Inevitably, I believe this relationship would also include elements of platonic worship. The reason for this is that I have always harboured an adoration for the female figure, the female energy, the female essence and the female appearance. None of this is sexual. In fact, I feel that this element of platonic worship is so strong that I would even feel uncomfortable seeing my dominating partner naked because it would make me feel the same dirty lust for her that I'd feel for porn actresses when I'd watch their movies and I feel that this would be disrespectful to her and to what her image represents to me. This adoration for the female figure is also one of the reasons for my gender transition, which began in September of 2023. I admire the feminine image so much that I want to make it a part of me. I don't like being a man, looking like a man, being treated like a man, behaving like a man and, God fobid, dealing with masculine gender roles. I have an enormous need to feminize my gender expression because that's what makes me happy.
For reasons that are far beyond my control and that may sound cheesy, I always end up seeing women whom I find beautiful to be superior to me. Not in a bad way, but simply in a kind of hierarchy where I'm below them. So, for some reason, I feel fulfilled imagining myself serving them in a completely devoted way. In a way, I can sum myself up as a human Golden Retriever in terms of loyalty, perhaps to pathological levels. Such a level of unexplored and repressed loyalty that I can easily imagine myself getting so deeply involved with the right woman and creating an emotional bond so indestructible that I would go as far as burying a body with her without giving it a second thought. It's as if there were a hurricane inside me waiting for the ideal conditions to form and destroy everything in its path to reach its goal. My goal is domestic servitude within a romantic relationship and this storm inside me will only grow larger and larger over time. I don't see much value in ordinary work as in working for a company. I only see meaning and purpose in domestic work in a relationship for and with a woman I love with great obedience, dedication, submission and gratitude. I don't see myself as a leader, but as someone to be led.
I come from a place where I suffered a lot of verbal abuse directed at my appearance for being too thin and I see that the world today is full of evil people with an evil intent who get off at doing evil things and also of people who omit themselves when they observe evil being done and end up becoming accomplices by omission. All of this makes me really want to put myself in a kind of safe space with someone trustworthy where I don't have to be constantly watching over my shoulder in order to check whether there already are vultures circling me from above waiting for the ideal moment to pounce. I look like an easy victim for predators and I've always attracted them without any difficulty, unfortunately. I am soft and highly sought by them. I want to be able, if only for a few hours, to let my guard down completely knowing that I'm not in danger and that I'm with someone well-intending who, at worst, doesn't wish me harm and, at best, actively cares about my well-being. In other words, a relationship like any other. I very much want and like the idea of giving myself body and soul to a woman who has consideration for me, for whom I have value and who is in charge of the relationship (FLR). As I said, I want to put myself in a situation of total vulnerability in a controlled and safe environment with a person I can trust and who means well. I want to put myself below them in every situation and always put them before myself unconditionally. I want to live under domestic servitude, as well as having a romantic, ordinary, monogamous relationship like any other. If there's no love, there's no point. I can't explain exactly what I feel, but I see this dynamic as the most honest way I can express love to my owner, mistress and friend. This is the rawest and most sincere manifestation of my personality. And please don't get me wrong: I'm not here trying to "cure" myself through BDSM or draw attention to myself by talking about my problems that nobody cares about. I'm just putting all this into context and explaining objective reality as it is, that's all.
I have no idea how I'm going to fulfill this dream and where I'm going to find this woman. I see a lot of profiles here of dommes who are only in it for fetishistic reasons and to make money and that makes me a little sad. But I understand, since a relationship can end up being a very big responsibility and many women don't want this kind of burden in their lives. Not to mention that the temptation of financial gain must be too great for them not to take advantage of. And in an economy like this, I think it will be considerably difficult to find a woman who will want to keep someone at home without generating income just taking care of the household chores. The odds don't seem to be in my favor and the entire setting seems less than ideal.
I feel disgusted by and abhor any fetish scenario that involves the element of being a housewife, maid and the like, especially if it includes elements of humiliation for carrying out such activity. I understand that for some it can be pleasurable, but for me it's despicable. I can't associate being a housewife with something humiliating and if that's your intention with me, don't get in touch. As for sexual activity in general in a relationship, I don't have much to say. Hormone replacement therapy completely obliterated my libido and I see no purpose in any activity that promotes my sexual pleasure. To all intents and purposes, I've become somewhat asexual. I'd accept being penetrated by my domme if she wanted to, since I'd put her wishes before my own, but I feel it's hardly something I'd ask for. I'm much more interested in the emotional side of the relationship than the sexual.
Still on the subject of sexuality, I feel that the word "virgin" isn't accurate enough to describe myself. This word is used to refer to people who have never had sex, which is my case, but I've also never had any other intimate experience with a woman. It's not that I've never had sex, I've never even hugged a woman in bed. I've barely experienced any degree of intimacy with a woman before. I suppose this complete lack of sexual experience will be viewed in a very bad light by the women I seek, but I don't think there's much I can do about it. I have no interest in having these first experiences with, for example, a prostitute because I'm looking for a real emotional connection in a legitimate relationship. I'm a romantic and I have no choice but to wait.
I can't imagine a life in which I allow this dream not to come true. It can't not happen. If it doesn't, I'll have an extremely bitter deathbed full of regrets.
When it comes to the woman I'm looking for, I only have three demands: don't be a drug user (cigarretes included), be a gentle domme and unconditionally monogamous.
My gratitude for you will be eternal and my debt to you unpayable.
I hope the woman I'm looking for is out there waiting to be found.
kool4kats hi, what ya think?

Hey everyone, this is my first attempt at putting this story, or any story, to words. I hope you enjoy and thank you for reading!
When I entered the hotel where my wife was last seen, nothing seemed out of place at first. Children ran through the lobby, bellboys escorted new arrivals while pushing luggage trolleys, and a small line was gathered at the front desk. It seemed like any busy hotel would over summer vacation - full of life and warm, humid air from the continuously opening front doors. The hotel, named ‘The Oxman,’ was located near the southwestern national parks of the United States. School had ended and families now flocked here for reservations booked months in advance. There were also many young people in search of adventure in the desert.
My wife had been one such adventurer. We were part of a rock climbing club that planned a trip to the area to explore some popular climbs in the canyons. I had been unable to join due to work, so she joined in the group’s rental van while I stayed behind. I was going to join once the work week was over, otherwise she would have bunked with one of the single girls. Only she never met the group in the lobby the next morning and after the police came, the rest of the trip was called off.
That was three days ago. The police searched her room and found all of her belongings gone. The investigation has continued, but the hotel hasn’t provided any further information, and with a packed suitcase gone with her the police thought she had chosen to disappear. So I came here myself, knowing I wouldn’t find anything the police had missed, but not knowing what else to do.
It was strange to see the normalcy around me in the lobby. My life was shattered by events that happened here just this week, and yet everyone else continued with their own lives. But as I joined the line at the front desk, I started noticing small ways in which things weren’t right. At first I noticed that as I passed people, no one so much as glanced at me. I wasn’t expecting anyone to outright stare, but not a single person looked in my direction as I passed them. Then I noticed the way they all smiled, their faces strained in looks of delight. Even those just sitting alone in the plush lobby chairs grinned relentlessly. I started to make my way towards an elderly man just sitting there and smiling, to ask him anything that would get him to interact with me, when the concierge behind the desk called to me. I had already made it to the front of the line.
“Good morning, sir, and welcome to the Oxman. How can I help you?”
The young man smiled as did everyone else, but at least he looked at me. His eyes told a different story than the others’.
“Hi, I’d like a room just for the night.”
“Of course sir, just a single bed?” He started typing quickly on the computer in front of him.
“I’m surprised you have availability during such a busy time of year,” I said, “My friends stayed here recently and booked their rooms months in advance.”
He didn’t miss a beat. “We had a cancellation this morning! It’s your lucky day, sir.” He looked up from his computer. “Surely you didn’t come here not expecting to get a room?” He was right - the question made me look like the strange one. “I started to lose hope when I saw how busy the lobby was.” But as I turned to gesture towards the people around us, I suddenly realized they were all gone. It was a moment before the shock wore off and I gathered myself, in which time the concierge spoke again.
“Traffic ebbs and flows!” He proclaimed cheerily. “Once I see your license and put a card on file, I’ll be happy to take you to your room sir.”Goosebumps pricked my skin as uneasiness washed over me. Something was clearly off about this place. But I couldn’t turn back now. I didn’t know where else to look for her and felt the need to see this through. I passed him my information and received a traditional key on a ring.
“I see you didn’t bring any luggage. I trust you can escort yourself to your room, Mr. Flinton?”My eyes were back on the lobby as he spoke, searching for any sign of the life that was just here. “That’s fine. Thank you for your help.” I took my key and read the tag. Room 716. I made my way towards the elevator as the concierge called after me.
“Thank you for your business, Mr. Flinton! We hope you enjoy your stay at The Oxman!”I didn’t turn back as I pressed the elevator button. Hopefully my room wouldn’t be this unsettling. And hopefully, through some miracle, I would find a sign of my wife. As I turned and pressed the button for floor 7, the second highest floor, I looked into the lobby one more time while the doors closed. Now the concierge had vanished as well.

Hello everyone,
This story may be slightly long and I apologise for that but I'll try give as much detail as possible in the hope of getting an answer, whilst also trying to ensure I don't reveal my identity to anyone who may be watching.
I have a brother who is physically disabled. This is apparent when you see him walk and when you talk to him. His speech is slightly distorted. We're visibly not white English (this matters as I believe the situation may have also been racially motivated).
He doesn't usually go out by himself - he's usually with friends or with myself and my other brother, but he decided he wanted to explore Manchester (we're from Yorkshire) by himself to escape his comfort zone. I also kind of slightly pressured him into it as I want him to be able to do things for himself as he's not very confident without someone he knows around him due to being self conscious. So I feel like shit that the following happened.
A couple weeks ago after staying the night there with a friend of his he went out to the city centre himself. He was walking around and actually starting to enjoy himself (near the Arndale centre) when he noticed this (what he describes as) huge guy talking to two kids who are just following him about - the guy and one of the kids have cameras.
Brother walks off just looking about and going into shops etc.
As he's leaving the Arndale, big man and the wonder twins pop out of nowhere, walk up to him and start asking him questions about politics and similar things. At no point does he antagonise, swear at or do anything to them other than be pleasant. And yes, these are his words, but I know him very well, he isn't the type to be rude to anyone (even if they deserve it).
The guy and kid with the camera are filming and he must've given an answer they didn't like because after he says he doesn't know much about stuff involving politics but says he'd vote for so and so, the other kid (not the camera) says something like, "well you would say that wouldn't you, your lot all do it". Brother asks what "his lot" are, and that same kid mimics the way he speaks whilst repeating the question back to him, before the big guy laughs and does the same before asking where he was born.
Now as I've said, brother's voice is distorted sounding but all of us were born in the UK and speak perfect English. So he tries to walk away and kid with camera joins in and follows him asking why he's running and if he's smart enough to answer before turning to big man and going, "I think he's fucking rtardd". Big man laughs and says something like he assumed that was the case from the way he spoke.
This upsets my brother and he tries to push away big man's camera which is in his face. At this point they're all surrounding him screaming and he's scared. After getting shoved, kid without camera shoves him before big guy kicks him hard in the upper leg area and shoves him to the ground before they all walked away laughing.
He ended up with a slightly cut hand and a bruised forearm but no permanent physical damage. He is however very depressed about it as he did nothing to provoke these people.
Does anyone know how this can happen in the middle of the day and no one does anything about it? The police didn't even arrest the guy or even seemed to be looking for him.
Also has anyone had any encounters with this guy and his little gang before? How can he get away with literally recording a crime? Any other info that might be useful in getting this guy arrested or otherwise held to account? He made my brother feel unsafe, didn't let him walk away and then attacked him when he made the very smallest action to protect himself.
Thank you :-)

I need advice
I (24F) have been in a relationship with my (25M) since I was 16. I apologize for how all over the place this is. I just need help.
We’ve grown up together. I love this man with all my heart. I feel as if he’s my person, but he doesn’t feel the same. He tells me he loves me, but his actions haven’t always said the same.
To set the stage, it was like any other high school relationship. You believe you’re gonna end up married and pregnant a year after you graduate. It’s not the case. Honestly the red flag should have been when he laughed in my face when I told him I loved him for the first time. We were 3 months into dating and spending every day together. We got a place together on my 20th birthday. Everything was perfect in my eyes. We were own our own, sex life was up, and it was all ours. No rules or parents. It wasn’t until 8ish months later I discovered he was sexting my friend. I did the worse thing possible and cheated too. Everything went to shit. He moved out, we fought, all that. Well, we ended up back together after a few months apart. He moved back in and everything was fine. Here I am 2 years later after all this happened and I’m doubting if coming back was a good decision. My whole family hates him. My friends hate him. Every single person I know that has met him, hates him. He doesn’t put in the effort to be around the people important to me. He never attends a single family event of mine. Absolutely nothing. Not even my birthday party. We no longer live in the house that’s in my name. Everything is his. We had a conversation a couple weeks ago about how we have to live our lives for us and I broke down crying because it sounded like he didn’t want me in his. He told me I was overreacting and he’d buy a ring in two years time. He refuses to get married. He refuses to have kids before he’s in his 30s. I try to make him see my point but he fails to see why it bothers me so much. I’ve always wanted a happy family. We both make decent money. There’s no reason why we couldn’t support a child. I’m afraid his fear of commitment is because he’s still sleeping with someone behind my back, but I have no proof. It’s eating me alive. I can’t get his phone to check messages or when I do there’s only two conversations left. It makes me feel like he’s deleting the truth so I don’t see. I attend everything of his family’s. I treat his sister like my own. I feel trapped down. Everything is his and I will have nothing but my car and clothes. My mom said I can move in with her, but after being on your own, how do you go back to that? Am I overreacting? I’m not asking to get married tomorrow, but we’ve been together so long that boyfriend and girlfriend sounds fucking stupid to my ears. I wanted a future with him, but what happens if we do have a kid? Will he allow the kid to see my family or is he going to fight me? What do I do?
It’s not like we’re fighting either. I just want more. I feel guilty for wanting more. We still get alone. We’re still loving towards each other. He has no idea what’s going through my head since that conversation. I’m lost.

I replied to an individual the other day in regards to Cone distribution. I thought this might be helpful for others so I wanted to post in on the main page.
This week there was a post that mentioned "The top 250 holders collectively own 74.57%."
In response, one individual mentioned;
"Actually this is kinda bad. A few people can change the trajectory of the coin just by selling."
I responded with this long form reply, which I feel also warranted a posting on the main page.
This is why I love it when we dip, and you should too!
"While this is true, we are so early and at such a low MC that not only is it OK for Cone to have whales sell, but it's actually quite preferred. Even if that means a huge price reduction, as long as there are new cones entering, that's all that counts. We want to allow the distribution to occur when the MC is low. Anytime I see cone drop 10-15% in price, it's almost always because a whale sold, not because smaller holders are selling. Regardless of what the price does this is as very positive trend. Cone could add another zero if a handful of whales sold, but again, that is only a positive if the demand from new wallets or currently smaller cone wallets is high and they are buying those dips. What would be not great though is if when whales sell, other current whales gobble it up to a very very heavy degree. Of course them buying the dip is nice and helps the price, but there is a limit to how much a whale should try to accumulate, imo. An example would be if our top holders at 10+B would gobble the dip up and shoot to say 15B, that would not be great. The amount of unique holders of cone continually goes up, which is a very very good sign. When those whales sell it should be a celebration not a cause for concern for current whales and fish alike. If the price does drop significantly, I think current top 25ish whales could even take that opportunity to purchase cheap cones if ONLY for the purpose of distributing it through multiplietipping posts etc. Every whale should have a 'this is almost too much cone' amount that they don't want to go beyond. I see the top 5 holders possibly teetering at that level right now. Simply from observing those wallets, I do get the sense they have a 'this is almost too much cone' amount in mind. It is very very rare to see those top 5 wallets accumulate, and when they do it's at very reasonable amounts. When whales(in general crypto, not specifically within Cone)accumulate too heavily, they might be thinking "oh this is going to help make me more profit", but in reality it's only hindering the ability to make profit because you are pricing out new wallets. Again, for those top 5 holders, please don't take this the wrong way I'm just using it to help get the point across. I do not feel they have overdone it just yet. If you start seeing wallets at 13, 14, 15, 20B+ that's when the red flags come in. Right now the top wallet holds 1.9% the total supply. Anything beyond that, say 2.25%+ is IMO, being greedy and counterproductive not only to all Cone but to those specific whales. A nice thing about our community is that most if not all those whales are people that post here and seem like good people. Regardless of how they are as people though, as in strictly from a numbers standpoint, going beyond that 2.25ish% of the supply level is a red flag.
So in summary: I hope whales sell and the price drops, granted demand from smaller wallets is there and new holders are created as well. Which has been the pattern from the beginning."

I’m not mad at her, not even the slightest. Totally her choice and I don’t even know the full story. I just wanted somewhere to talk openly about it.
I spoke to her a few months ago and she was her normal bubbly self, she asked how life was, said things were great for her, doted on her sister and her step son and we said goodbye. It was just one of those calls you make every year or two to old friends you don’t see anymore ya know?
I don’t know if she was sick at that time or not, but whatever she was sick with she knew she wasn’t going to make it. She didn’t want a funeral and all her family replied “she was just really sick” like a planned response. Plus I kinda creeped her bfs page and he made a post on her birthday the day before she passed about not knowing how much time was left but making every day count as the last.. that hurt a lot to read. She looked so happy and even kinda still healthy in the photos. You could tell there was something wrong, but she didn’t look dying.
Ugh. I’m venting here because I’m 32 and almost every single friend I grew up with has died now. From OD, or accidents or health problems etc. Literally about 27 friends I think at this point. So I don’t think I even have friends who knew her as part of the same social circle I did that are still alive to talk to about her. We were kinda the last connection to a lot of dead social circles and now I’m feeling more alone than most of the deaths I’ve encountered.
Shit sucks man.

They are requiring that I have the app installed on my phone and use the DUO Push Soft Token to sign into my computer. DUO has the option to sign in using SMS or a Phone call but they just discontinued those options today and are mandating that everyone use the soft token. I have an older Samsung Galaxy S8+ phone so I can't even install the DUO app on my phone. When I try to do it it says "Looking for DUO Mobile? This app won't work for your device."
So, they are telling me that I will have to buy a new phone. Which I don't like, they shouldn't have any say over what phone I decide to use. Also, I started to get into tech recently and I know that you can just use a Hardware security key for two-factor authentication so it shouldn't even be necessary for me to have to get a new phone. I don't like the idea of planned obsolescence, I try to keep my devices for as long as possible and this feels like a violation of my privacy as a consumer. My phone works and now I'm being forced to buy a new one. What are my options? Can I ask them to reimburse me for the cost of the phone? Can I report this to the NYS Department of Labor?

If you work for a company, they likely have a Human Resources team. They have access to inside information. Back in the day before everything went digitized, there was an actual book. A book of the true shareholders, their positions, info, etc. With the right permissions, HR could provide you access to this information. What I’m trying to get at is, the majority of us are on gamestops book. What we did was digitally sign our names to it with money and a ledger.
I truly do believe that when RC was posting the cone poo chair memes and others alluding to CS, he meant exactly that. I feel my money is safe because if some shit goes down where I can’t access my shares or money anywhere else, GameStop has a book with my name on it that they can haul into the courtroom. I’m not sure what implications it may have, but if they get into with the govt, I want to be on paper in that courtroom too. I was an owner when they killed the buy button. I was an owner during March 11th (I think) dip. I’ve been around the block and I’m not fuckin happy with what I’ve been through. Like DFV latest, I’m fucking staying. Take it from me, apes, there’s hundreds of thousands like me with the same attitude. I’m not fuckin leaving.
Anyway, I digress. My buddy who is deeply invested as well asked me how I think this shit is truly going to end. I got him involved around the battle of 180. So he’s seen his fair share of war too. I’ve read more of the original DD, so I’m a touch more zen than he is. I told him I’m not really worried about it. Most of us have our shares in CS and consider them part of the infinity pool. Our locked 25-30% should take care of a majority of the hedge funds alone and like I said, if shit goes down, even the president can’t remove my name from GameStops books. Fuck it all watch it burn. Getting rich is cool but I’m in it for spite now.
They fucked around and we’re ALL about to find out. See you all in the shareholder meeting. Stay zen, stay diamond hands. This is it.

I think it was Jack's idea. Or maybe it was Mindy who came up with it. You know, if I do try and really think about it .. well, maybe it could've actually even been me who decided we play it. I've spent hours trying to pierce my memory back together, more to pass the time and distract myself.. But it's all irrelevant, It doesn't matter now. Maybe it never did.
Mabel was turning 30 and it was up to us to plan the party. We were all nostalgic about childhood memories so we decided to go all out - Frogs in the pond (jelly cups with Freddo frogs), hot dogs and fairy bread, and we wrapped up prizes in newspaper for pass the parcel. Pin the tail on the donkey and Twister were set up ready to play, the spice girls were blaring on Spotify.
Mabel's eyes lit up when she walked into the room and her smile was worth all the effort we put in. We danced and played games, and as the sun started to set and it grew darker outside, someone suggested turning off the lights snd playing murder in the dark.
There were ohh's and ahh's, laughter as people remembered a game they most likely hadn't played since primary school. A collective chatter amongst us in agreeance to playing Someone handed out cards, while were told the rules of the game. And then the lights were tuned out.
For those of you who don't recall, these are the basic premise of the games rules -
You'll need - Pack of cards
Instructions - Sort through a deck of cards and find the following - an Ace, a Jack, a King, a Queen, and number cards for the amount of remaining people. (i.e.-if six people were playing, you would need two number cards.)
Each card means something - the Ace is the murderer, the Jack is the detective, the King is the detective if the Jack dies, and the Queen is the detective if the Jack and the King both die. The number cards just walk around for the beginning of the game.
Tell the players that all they need to worry about for the time being is if they get the Ace. Give a card to everyone. Nobody looks at each other's cards. Once they have their cards and have seen them, put them down somewhere out of the way for the next round.
Turn off all the lights so that it's completely dark. Everyone begins to spread out and walk about slowly, and try not to laugh or talk. Players aren't allowed to stick together in this game. During this time, the murderer is seeking 'victims'. When she/he finds someone alone, they quietly brush their shoulder and whisper, "You're dead." As an alternative, the murderer could clamp their hand over the persons mouth to avoid the person screaming, and then whisper "You're Dead".
The dead player drops to the ground, dead, and can not speak or move. The murderer may or may not hide the person they just killed in a hiding place. It is not advisable, however, due to the risk involved in getting caught. When a player sees a person lying down, they ask, "Are you dead?" The person simply nods 'yes' or shakes their head 'no', but they must tell the truth. If they nod, the person who found them shouts "Murder in the Dark!" and the lights are put on.
The murderer may not murder victims any longer and all the alive players assemble where the dead person was found. The players who are not present are noted as dead. The detective sits in a chair in front of all the others who are on the floor. He/she asks questions to each person. (i.e. where were you when someone yelled Murder in the Dark? Who do you think is the murderer and why? etc.)
When the detective has enough information and think they are ready, they say "Final Accusation" and ask one person-"Are you the murderer?" It is very important that the person answers TRUTHFULLY at the final accusation. If they are the murderer, then they must say yes. If correct players pick new cards and the game starts again. If wrong then turn out the lights and carry on.
Our rules were a bit different though. It was added in that it would be a last man standing game instead. We wouldn't have a detective - we would have a murderer, murderees and possibly one lone survivor. If someone did survive -Whoever who was still alive when the egg timer went off in 60 minutes - would be the winner. If the murderer had successfully killed everyone and there were no 'survivors' - than they had won the game.
I'll admit, it was spooky. There's just something unnerving about being in a room full of people that you cannot see but you can feel their body heat or hear them breathing. I began to walk around softly, careful to make as less noise as possible. As I wasn't the killer - I had no 'good card' I was just a waiting victim, so I wanted to hide and try and bide my time staying alive as long as possible. It didn't take long to find the first 'body'. I could tell it was Mabel from the way the long blonde hair trailed along the carpet. I whispered "Are you dead?" And I guess she mustn't have heard me because I didn't see her nod.
I moved on quickly, going into the spare bedroom. I didn't risk shutting the door behind me, I just went to hide under the bed. There was a body already under there though, I felt the warmness of human skin as I clambered under the mattress, my hand recoiling in shock as I brushed up against someone's leg. I didn't bother to ask whether they were dead, I mean I guess it was cheating a bit, but we were alone, and they were certainly doing a good enough job of playing dead it seemed just silly to ask.
I heard the muffled scream down towards the other end of the house, - the first 'victim' I'd heard to make any noise - and knew it was safe to make my move out of the bedroom to a better spot.
I nearly tripped on the bodies that were splayed out on the floor, in the hallway and the kitchen. Whoever had the murderer card was certainly taking the game seriously and playing to the best of their ability. I had yet to come across anyone else walking around and was starting to think I might actually have a chance of winning, depending on how much longer was on the egg timer, of course.
I made a beeline to the kitchen to check how much time we had, it honestly felt like the game had gone on forever - and I was shocked to feel the broken pieces of the egg timer on the kitchen bench. I looked at the clock on the microwave - the green numbers burning into my eyes. We had been playing for over three hours.
Something didn't feel quite right.
I tiptoed back into the hall to Mabel, leaning down to whisper to her that we'd been playing way too long - but then I felt something wet and slippery on my hands when I knelt down next to her. It was blood. I stifled a scream as my hands roamed and I realised the birthday girl had had her head caved in.
I backed away slowly, tears streaming down my face as I quietly made my way to the front door. I let myself out and ran across the road, banging on the neighbours door while constantly glancing behind me to see if I was being chased.
The neighbours nearly fainted when they saw me covered in blood and screaming, but they calmed me down by showing me they had double locked their door and called the police.
They don't know who killed all my friends. Everyone who was meant to be at the party was still in the house - slaughtered.
It's taken so much therapy and I'm still not sleeping at night. I wish I could go back and help my friends. I didn't know, but the blame remains.
I got a letter in the mail today though. It was a congratulations card, and written inside said 'last one standing - winner winner - care to rematch, Afterall the last game was so fun! I'll see you soon, when darkness comes.'
So my advice, don't play childhood games. They could have dire consequences.

Hey everyone! I back again with some more funny shenanigans with our good pals Lerson and Silversmith. Thank you all for the great feedback for the last chapter, it really made my day. I'm excited to hear what you all think about this next one. Hope you all enjoy!
And again a special thanks to SpacePaladin15 for the NoP universe! __________
[First] [Next] __________
Memory Transcription Subject: Lerson, Undercover Farsul Date [standardized human time]: October 24, 2136
How did I get here? Just yesterday I was running for my life through the forest on this backwater planet and now I am sitting in the back of a vehicle with a predator, who thinks that I am some kind of hunting beast. Well… what do I do now?
The first part of my plan went off without a hitch. The simple minded predators had not realized I was not one of their slave beasts, so they released me from their holding pens. However, I am now trapped in a car right alongside my new predatory master.
Maybe I could try to take it down. It doesn’t seem particularly dexterous at least compared to the other predators I have seen. It is not looking at me now, so I would have the upper hand, but it is nearly twice my size. I will probably have to hold out for a little bit longer before I make my move.
I am suddenly pulled from my thoughts when the predator in the front seat begins to growl, “Car, can you bring me to the pet store, please?”
‘Pet Store,’ what is that? My translator says that it is a place for the sale of animals. Is it going to sell me already? Maybe I am just being sent to my new prison. My heart races as I watch the vehicle begin to slow down and come to a stop in front of the building. The elderly predator gets out of the vehicle and walks around to the door next to me. Oh no! This isn’t part of the plan. I thought I was finally out of that place, but now I am just about to get locked up again. The door opens.
“Okay bud, we’re gonna get you some things,” it said. Huh. I am not getting sold? The predator grabbed the end of the rope around my neck and beckoned me out of the vehicle. I chose to oblige and we slowly made our way towards the nearby building.
It was a small structure that looked like it was in disrepair. It makes sense that the predators would not upkeep their buildings all they care about is killing and eating. I was surprised to find that they even have buildings to begin with.
The old one pushed the door open, which produced a soft jingle as we walked in. First thing I noticed was the intense smell. It was almost overwhelming with how many different scents there were. Looking around the aisles of the shop were very narrow and the shelves were packed with different items. “Um, so the lady at the shelter suggested that I get food, bowls, a bed, and… I don’t really remember what else. That’s probably fine to begin with, we can always come back later.”
We walked down one of the narrow aisles, which had dozens of bags of ‘kibble.’ My translator says it is “ground meal shaped into pellets, especially for pet food.” That does not sound very appetizing. The predator stops and starts looking through the different options. I also start to look around. The bag nearest to me has an ingredients list. Luckily I opted for the built in visual translator. Scanning the ingredients it contains mostly different grains and other fillers, which is surprising from predator food, but it also lists ‘animal byproducts’ which sounds horrifying. I guess whatever the Terrans do not end up eating gets tossed to the lesser predators.
“Let’s get this one. It says it’s for ‘senior’ dogs. Ha! That’s something we’ve go in common”
Really?! Do I look that old to everyone? By the Tenants, maybe I need to dye my fur after I get out of this mess. We continued going around the store picking up items until we got to the counter near the front.
Speaking to the predator behind the counter my ‘master’ says, “Good afternoon Bobby. How’s everything going?”
The young predator behind the counter responds, “Not too great, Mr. Silversmith.”
“Oh. I spose that was a bad question to ask, sorry.”
“It's okay sir, there is just a lot going on. I’m glad that my parents and I are all fine, being out here in the country, but my brother works in the city and we still don’t know if he’s alright.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. I hope for the best.”
“Thank you. Now what can I do for you?”
“Oh I’m just buying some supplies for old Buddy over here,” he gestures down to me.
The clerk looks over the counter towards me, “Uh… Mr. Silversmith…” The old predator cuts him off, “I know he aint the best lookin’, but can’t say much about myself either, so I don’t need to hear it.”
“Sure… Well… let me ring that all up for you then.”
Spekh! That one has to know, right? Perhaps these predators are not as dense as I thought and the one I got is just really stupid. Well at least that helps my plan, but I will still have to be careful around other Terrans.
The old one finishes paying and we head back down to the vehicle and it drives off. After about [~34 minutes] we reach what I think is the elderly predator's den.
It is at the end of a very long dirt roadway, tucked among the trees, that I see the structure. Just like the pet shop it is a small building made out of simple materials like wood and stone. I suppose the predators really are as primitive as I thought.
The vehicle comes to a halt next to the building and the old one steps out. After he opens my door, I step out of the vehicle as well. I follow him to the entrance of the den, which is a simple wooden door painted bright red. And if I remember correctly that is the color of blood on this planet. So savage!
Upon entering, the interior looks very similar to the outside with wood adorning the walls and floors. Though I was surprised how similar the layout was to the living quarters back at the guild. The room at the entrance looked to be some kind of lounging room with a small couch and rug in the center of the room facing a screen mounted on the opposite wall. To the left of the door was what I could only assume was a kitchen with storage cabinets covering the walls.
The elderly predator returned to the car to retrieve the items it purchased at the ‘pet shop,’ which makes this the best time to do some sleuthing. I made my way past the lounge room into the depths of the den. Past the entrance room was a hallway leading further back. It was adorned with photographs filled with predatory snarls. I did my best to ignore them and worked my way further down the hall.
Up ahead there was a door and upon opening it I found a room which, by the smell of it, must be a lavatory. That really reminded me that I had to go to the bathroom. My cell did not even have a waste pit. I made my way quickly into the room and relieved myself with haste. Once I finished I thought about flushing the ‘evidence,’ but that’s when I heard the front door open again, so I was forced to hurry out of the room.
“Hey Bud! Where did you go?” it growled from the other room. I made my way back to the entrance as quickly as I could manage on all fours. “There you are. So do you like the place?” the predator asked. I did not respond and just looked towards it. “Ha ha, great!” it growled. I did not say anything?
“So I got your food and water bowls over here. Let me go fill them up. You’ve gotta be hungry.”
It walked over to the kitchen with the bowls in hand and filled one with water from the sink. The other bowl, the predator filled with the ‘kibble’ from earlier. Then it placed them both on the floor. It looks like the food situation might not be any better than my previous arrangement at the holding pen.
“Well, I spose I should eat dinner as well.”
It opened the large metal cabinet and began looking through it. I snuck a little closer to get a better look. When I approached I could feel the chill coming off of it, so I could assume that it was some kind of refrigerators unit. Must not be that primitive I suppose. After a bit of scrounging around the refrigerator, the elderly one pulled out a clear plastic container. It was green on the inside. Is it really going to eat rotten flesh!? I guess that is expected of a predator.
As it opened the container I braced my nose for the putrid smell of rotten flesh, but it never came. I watched as the predator poured out leafy greens into a bowl. Huh, a predator is eating plants?
Wait, I do remember that during the Terran’s deceptive talk at Aafa, they had said they were [all-eaters]. I guess that must be true. Watching it eat the greens is making me even hungrier than I was before.
I watched as the elderly predator finished its salad. It brought the bowl and utensils to the sink to begin washing them. I waited in the corner of the kitchen for him to finish and leave. My stomach was killing me and I could only think of the amazing taste of a crisp salad. Finally the predator finished his task and turned away from the sink. It looked towards me and then at the bowls on the floor. “Aren’t you hungry boy? You haven’t touched your food at all… I hope you’re alright. Maybe I need to take you to the vet tomorrow?”
Vet? My translator says that that means ‘animal doctor.’ Even though the average human is pretty oblivious, a doctor will be sure to realize that I’m not really a ‘dog.’ I can not let this Terran take me there. I know what I have to do, but I do not like it. I steel myself as I walk over to the bowl and stare down at its contents. Am I really going to do this? You have to! So, I lower my head and bite down on a mouthful of ‘kibble.’
It… is not that bad? I honestly expected worse.
I suppress the thoughts of the ‘animal byproducts’ in it and swallow. Immediately I wash out my mouth with the water in the second bowl. Then I turn to look at the human who is now snarling at me. I freeze. Did I do something wrong? Did it figure me out?!
“There you go. Ha ha. I was worried for a second there.”
What? Is it happy that I ate? Then why is it snarling at me? Maybe maybe that means that it is happy? These predators are so weird. At least it seems like I have avoided detection once again. Nailed it!
The old predator, having been satisfied, let out a yawn revealing all its sharp teeth… well… most of them were surprisingly quite dull. “Okay bud it's getting late, so I think it's time for me to turn in, but let me get you your bed first,” it said. Reaching into the biggest bag from the pet shop the elderly predator pulled out a round fluffy bowl. It looks similar to beds I saw when working on the Iftali and Sulean homeworld, though this one is a lot smaller. It placed the bed down in the living room next to the couch.
It paused, “Oh wait. I should probably take you outside before turning in for the night. Don’t want a mess in the morning, come on.”
I follow the predator as instructed, wondering what it wants me to do now. It leads me out a side door into a grassy area. “Okay… do your business,” it said.
What? Does it want me to do something? I just look around seeing if there's anything to give me any clues.
“I guess that didn’t work. Go potty.”
What?! Is it commanding me to defecate?! Outside! I guess he does think I am an animal. But there is no way I am doing that especially with it watching me. Why is it watching? Is it some kind of pervert? Grr, Screw the plan!
“Okay… uh… I guess come back in when you’re done,” it says as it turns to walk back to the house.
Thank the Tenants! I wait [a few minutes] and then slip back into the predator’s den. On my return it spots me, “Oh good you’re back!”
It walked over to the side door and locked it. Then the predator shuffled to wall switches and turned off most of the lights. Thankfully it left a singular lamp turned on. It is already bad enough that I am stuck in a predator's den, but being in the dark with a predator would be too much even for me.
“Okay goodnight bud, see you in the morning,” said the old one. Then right as it entered the hall it stopped and looked down at a nearby table, “Good night Ella. Good night Ben. Good night Martha.” Then it walked out of sight.
Who was he talking to? Are there other predators here? I don’t smell anyone else and I think I would have heard them earlier. Spekh! Did I get a crazy one?
Okay craziness aside, I need to eat some real food. I finally stood upright. Ah my back! It was already getting bad enough when I was back home. Hopefully I can get used to this because walking on all fours is killing me right now.
I walk over to the refrigeration unit and slowly open the doors trying to stay quiet. Looking around the inside I am surprised to find so many vegetables. However, I did spot a slab of flesh towards the back, which I did my best to ignore.
Now, I can not just eat anything, it might notice if food is missing. Scrounging around for a [minute] my eyes eventually find a plant in one of the lower drawers. It looks like a big bundle of large leaves. I take it out and pry off one of the ones on the outside. It comes off relatively easily with a crunch. Hopefully this is edible. I bring the leaf to my mouth and bite down. It makes a very satisfying crunch as a do. There really is no distinct taste, but I am so hungry that I don’t even care if it is bland.
I scarfed down the rest of the leaf quickly and then grabbed another and then another. Before I knew it, the bundle was only a third of the original size. So much for being sneaky. Finally satisfied, I returned what remained of the bundle to its proper place and closed the refrigerator doors.
After finishing my raid on the refrigerators, I thought about what the old predator had said earlier. I walked over to the table near the entrance to the hallway. There must be something interesting here. However, there was nothing but a handful of photographs. Looking at them in the dim light I was able to make out the wide snarls that adorned the faces in the photo. I guess It makes more sense now since the snarl is a ‘happy’ expression. It is still very strange to me.
The photo closest to the front had the old predator standing next to a much younger predator, which appeared to be wearing Terran military pelts. Strangely, the young one has very bright orange hair on the top of its head.
Next to that one there was a similar photo, but the old predator looked slightly younger. The other Terran in the photo looked similar to the first. They did share the same bright orange hair, but the enlarged mammaries indicated that this one was a female.
I then spotted another picture including the same female, but this time she was next to a different predator and she was holding a Terran pup, which had the same orange hair. Perhaps the female was the mother of the other one. Most of the other photos appeared to be different combinations of the same four predators: the old one, his offspring, his offspring’s mate, and then their pup.
I moved over to the other side to see if I could find anything more useful. There was a photo that stood out to me. It pictured the old one, but he looked significantly younger even more than the other photos. Standing next to him was a female, which had the same orange hair as the others. Who was this? I had not seen it in any of the other pictures.
I searched around to see if I could find any more with this female in it. Towards the back I saw two pictures next to each other. The one on the left had the female again with the old predator. Laying in a bed she was cradling a newborn pup in her arms. However, the photo on the right was the old one with the pup in its arms. The pup appeared to be a year or two older in this one, but where was the mother? Looking at the older predator I saw the look in his eyes. I know that look. Cerci…
No! They are predators! They are not like us! You know they can not think like us! It's not the same!
Grr, you are tired… just… just go rest. I walk over to the bed. I curl up and try to let sleep take me. __________
[First] [Next] __________
So much for being comedic and lighthearted. I promise that the rest of it won't be so depressing, but I wanted to add a little more substance to some of the characters. Thanks again for reading! Feel free to leave any feedback or suggestions, I really appreciate it.

Hi, I need help with typing one of my friends- a 21 year old guy. I have found him the most confusing to type so far and its getting to me. I have told him this and since then he has been trying to throw me off (ig its fun for him to challenge me like that?)
This guy comes off very arrogant to his close friends (constant self-praising to annoy the crap out of us) (tertiary Fe). He's very annoying (intentionally so) and is very good at pointing out logical inconsistencies in everything someone has to say (Ti). Clever comebacks after comebacks backed pup with logic till the opponent gives up. Very smart but sometimes looks down on other people. He is one of the funniest guys I know (witty, word puns, sarcasm). He gets bored of things very quickly and absolutely hates being tied down to one thing or person (commitment issues and wanting to keep options open all the time)). He can also make up real good stories/bullshit on spot (Ne). He multitasks a lot (takes up multiple projects and does all of them at once). So I concluded that he is an ENTP. However, all of these are traits he displays when he wants to (he can somehow switch this personality off). This is how he is with his close friends. Also if he is upset with you, he gets more sarcastic than usual when roasting you.
Problem is his Fe is way too good for it to be his 3rd preferred function. To the point where sometimes I think he is either an ENFJ or ESFJ. He is very considerate and reads the room really well (knows what people want and are feeling). He is into teaching and mentoring people (and he is crazy good at it). He acts like a typical dominant Fe user, invested in group harmony, trying to go out of his way for people and for including them. He is always there for people with others' needs above his own. No boundaries (almost a doormat) if they are important enough. He can be manipulative at times though (and good at it too). He lies A LOT to protect people's feelings. And he is really organized unlike a typical P type. He makes lists and uses multiple planners. He is very responsible and always has backup plans. He is a clean freak and keeps his environment (everything from his bag to his desk) as clean and organized as possible (like a Si user). Organization is something he values and wants to achieve. He is also extremely observant (notices every damn thing) and loves exploring- hikes, sports etc like a Se user. Sometimes, he seems like an ESTP due to this.
He claims to have no idea how he feels in situations and that he is blind to his own emotions. He is different with different people to the point where people accuse him of having no individuality at times. There is absolutely no sign of Fi. He cares about internal logical consistency a lot tho (Ti). So definitely, Fe-Ti axis with extroversion but I am not sure if he is ENTP, ESTP, ESFJ or ENFJ. He shows Ne-Si more often than Ni-Se. Even then, I am not sure if he's an ENTP or ESFJ. Please help.
P.S. If it helps, he is very close to his mother and admires her lot- she is an ESFJ. I am not sure if he is an ENTP with a well developed Fe and Si or an ESFJ with well developed Ne and Ti (but isn't he too young for that?).

My landlord showed up today wanting me and my husband to sign a new lease, even though we signed one back in February. He tried changing the pet amount even though he knew how many pets we moved in with and currently have. And he changed the lease date from may 1st to start on June 1st. And mind you, this is all coming about at the same time we have discovered mold in the house and have been sick and what not. When he told me to my face he left a new lease in the mail box, I gave him a look waiting for him to tell me why and he came off with “is that going to be a problem?!” his reasoning is because is we don’t renew, he can find someone to take over instantly in June then he can in may. So all of this just over an extra month so he doesn’t lose money? I confronted him about changing the pet amount and he told me to change it on the lease to the correct amount of animals. I feel he’s trying to trap us but do I have to sign this new lease?? Even though we already have one in effect? This benefits him, not us and he is treating the fact that this house has mold and I think he just wants us gone at this point so we stop complaining about things wrong. Advice? Can he do this and expect us to sign it. ?

Air, shelter, water, and food, all essentials of life we take for granted. The gratitude of being alive,
smothered by emotional baggage. Just a bunch of pill induced zombies, riddled by life’s perplexities. Not
me, not any more at least. No, now I wake up every day reborn with a newly discovered purpose in life,
thanks to, him.
Most would be emotionally devastated and seek long term therapy, after what I had endured.
Most would need to be heavily medicated, to calm their anxiety of the fear he would return. No, not me,
the person I once was, is now dead. Suffocated, frozen, dehydrated, and starved out of me. Who I was
perished, and I am grateful. I am offering you the same, but before we get started, let me explain how I
arrived at this place of serenity.
The night was the same as always. I had just finished gorging myself on junk food while binge
watching a reality show. Empty bottles of soda surrounded me as I surfed the streaming networks.
Knowing my weight was getting out of control, I still managed to finish off the bag of greasy potato
chips. My bottles of meds sat on the end table waiting for me. Depression, anxiety, stomach, and heart
pills all courtesy of the negligence of my life choices. One by one I swallowed the antidotes of a better
me. Yet, there never seemed to be a stronger version of myself, no matter how many pills I ingested.
Falling asleep, I told myself tomorrow would be different. Tomorrow I will try harder. As I drifted
off to sleep, I felt a sting in my neck, only waking up for a few seconds. My eyes opened just enough to
see him standing over me. Fighting to stay awake, my eyes latched closed, and I fell into the darkness.
Upon awaking, I could hear sounds of mumbles surrounding me. Feeling heavy and disoriented, I
managed to flicker my eyelids. As the minutes passed, my surroundings became more lucid. The foul
stench of pig shit singed my nose hairs. Dust from old haybales stimulated my sense of smell, inducing a
sneeze. An unimaginable pain coursed through my mouth. Still dazed and confused, I heard a voice say,
"we can't have that, now, can we?". Once again, I felt a sting in my neck, causing me to drift out of
reality.
"Wake up", I heard as I came to, "we need to get started". Started with what, I tried to ask. Yet,
my mouth wouldn't open. Tranquilized still, I thought maybe my brain just wasn't cooperating with my
body. Flexing my jaw, I tried again to speak, it was useless. All I could do was mumble. My words were
nothing more than muffled grunts behind a padded wall.
Looking around, I could see I was not alone. Vision blurry, I still managed to make out a large
silhouette of a man sitting in front of me holding a cutting needle and thread. He then placed the needle
on a barrel and stood up. Whistling, "The Sun will come out tomorrow", I began to look around. There were other people with us. Including myself, all tied to chairs and mouths sewn shut. Three of us were men. The fourth was a woman in her
mid-forties. She was crying and moaning uncontrollably. Mucus ran down her face dripping from her
chin. Trying to console her, I batted my eyes. It was all I could do without having the use of my mouth
and arms.
The injection he had no doughtily given me, had worn off. Like the woman, I found myself in panic
mode. My heart raced fast. I thought I would have a heart attack. Wanting to scream, I
couldn't. Wanting to run but I was incapacitated. Fighting my way out, entered my mind, but how? How,
with my hands bound behind my back. Besides, I wasn't a fighter, and the man was massive. He would
be very intimidating under any circumstance. His raggedy hair was sandy blonde with a mixture of gray.
Deep wrinkles hid behind a handlebar mustache, which stretched across his face. Thick eyebrows sat
untamed above his devilish eyes. Watching him, I tried not to make eye contact. I looked everywhere,
other than at him. The other two men looked as frightened as me. One man, the bigger one, had tears
but made no sounds. The other man was a very frail older man. He shifted side to side as he tried yelling
from behind his fastened lips. His arms bared scars of that of a junkie. His body, covered in scabs.
Cautiously, I looked around. A rusty old plow sat in the corner next to some feed sacks. A saddle
lay across an old broken table. Two horses stood quietly behind their stall door. I could see rays of light
shine through the cracks between the boards. It was daylight, knowing that gave me comfort somehow.
The barn was dusty, and as painful as it would be, I hoped I would sneeze again. At least then I could
scream. Abruptly the man stopped whistling and spoke.
Your mouths are bound together so that I cannot hear you. People talk too much, making the
world noisy. All loud with pathetic excuses of their weaknesses. I am not going to kill you. Your life is in
your own hands. Up to this point, you have wasted your life hiding behind your addictions. Cowering
and leaning on crutches of life’s temptations. I am here to save you from yourselves.
The rule of three is simple. You can survive three minutes without air, three hours without
shelter, three days without water, and three weeks without food. If you truly desire to live, then you will
triumph. If not, you will perish. I am here to help you unpack your emotional baggage. Air, the very
breath you breathe, you have taken for granted. So, please slow your breathing and relax. We are about
to begin.
While you were sleeping, I provided you with adequate fluids and nutrition. I cannot have you
starting off, on an empty tank. I want to be as fair as possible and make this a pleasant experience.
Though, I warn you it will not be easy, and you will have to dig deep within yourselves.
The burly man began whistling once again. He placed an egg timer on a barrel, grabbed a plastic
bag and spoke. You can survive three minutes with no air. Do you have the desire and strength to want
to live? For you, I truly hope so.
Standing behind the heavier man he turned the timer and then placed the plastic bag over his
head. The man jerked in his chair, thrashing about. One minute, he said. The man still moving wildly.
Two minutes, almost there just hold on. Three minutes he announced, ripping the bag from the head of
the now motionless man. “Oh dear, I guess he did not have what it takes, next”. My heart raced even
faster as he stood next to the now inconsolable woman. I would be after her. I had to slow my breathing
if I were to live. Picking up another bag, he stood behind her.
The air went in and out her nose as she hyperventilated. “There, there, I’m not going to hurt you”,
he said, as he patted her on the shoulders. “Three minutes is a miniature amount of time. I wish you the
very best.” Her legs kicked out lunging back and forth. Her muffled shrieks filled the barn. “Are you
ready?” He then reset the timer. Fearing for my own life, I turned my head and concentrated on my
breathing. Trying hard to block her out, I went to another place in my head. As hard as it was, I imagined
I was calm and at peace lying on a sandy shore. Desperately, I wanted to cover my ears. Her loud cries
soon became small whimpers. Then to gurgles as she choked on her own vomit. Turning my head back
towards her, I could see her convulsing as life left her body. “Not quite a minute, what a shame”, he
said.
Thinking back to when I was a child, and held my breath under water, outlasting my brother.
Back then, holding my breath was easy for me and I always won. Being in my mid-thirties, I wasn’t a
child any longer. Could I beat this, I questioned. Unlike the woman next to me, who reeked of tobacco, I
didn’t smoke. My chances were greater than those who came before me.
Excepting the inevitable, I practiced my anxiety exercises my therapist had taught me. Four, four,
four, inhale hold, exhale hold. If I panic, I will surely suffocate, I told myself. The other man was calmer
now and followed my lead. Our eyes locked on to one another as we breathed. “Very good, that is what
I want to see, a thirst for life, the will to live.”
Picking up a bag, he then stood behind me. I took a deep breath as he turned the timer. I felt the
panic trying to set in, but I pushed it deep down. Oddly enough, the tune he’d been whistling popped
into my head. “The sun will come out tomorrow”, played as the bag was put over my head. “So, you got
to hang on ‘til tomorrow.” Not wanting to see the blurred images through the bag, I closed my eyes. I
just kept humming the tune in my head. “One minute”, he said. Getting more difficult to hold my breath,
I could feel my heart beating faster and my blood pressure rising. The tune still reeling in my head,
“tomorrow, tomorrow, I love you tomorrow”. “Two minutes”. I can do this, I’m almost there, but my
mind was getting foggy, and my chest tightened. My muscles tensed up as I felt my existence dwindle
away. The tune that kept me going had faded away somewhere deep into my brain. Hungry for air, I
started scratching my hands behind my back. I was going to die. Tomorrow, tomorrow, I managed to
think one last time. “Three Minutes”!
Air rushed through my nose, as I clung to the remaining life I had. It was the greatest feeling just
being able to breathe. I’d made it, I had beat him, I was alive. “Congratulations, you did well”. “Breath
and continue to appreciate the gift, I have given you”.
Tears rushed down my cheeks, as I sat watching the man set the stage for the last occupant. As
sympathetic as I was, I was overwhelmed too just be alive. Still fighting my anxiety, I closed my eyes,
four, four, four. Sounds of distress and faint scuffling could be heard, yet I refused to open my eyes.
Three minutes passed quickly. “We have another fighter, outstanding.” Opening my eyes, I seen that the
other man had also survived. “Two out of three, I wished it faired better.” “It is a pity they perished, yet
the pigs will eat well.” “Nothing should ever go to waste”. “Their carcasses are a valuable resource.” I
am thankful for their contribution.”
“I will let you rest up.” The next gift, is that of shelter.” “People of the world scratch and claw to
have bigger dwellings of that of their neighbor.” Never being thankful of the shelters warmth when it is
cold.” “Not a second thought about the materials taken from the earth to provide that comfort.” “I will
teach you to not care about the size or the looks. You won’t care if it’s a barn or a house made of sticks.
You’ll learn to be content as it shelters you from the storm.
Not understanding what was coming next, I tried thinking of ways to escape. Wringing my hands
together, I tried loosening the rope. He had his back turned removing the bodies from the chairs. Yet
somehow he still managed to catch on to what I was doing. “That’s a double sheet bend knot.” Try as
you might, you will not loosen or untie it.” “Yet I commend you on your perseverance.” “If you escape,
you will not learn the valuable lesson I am trying to teach you.” “Sit and be patient, like I told you
before, I’m not going to kill you.”
He was right. The more I tried twisting my wrists, the tighter the rope became making them bleed
and burn. “Why was he doing this and why me”, I wanted to ask. The inside of my mouth was so dry,
and I was thirsty. All I could think about was water to wash out the metallic taste left from the wounds
of my lips. Making eye contact with the other man, I wondered if he was as thirsty as I. “The storm will
be here soon, and we can continue.”, he said as he removed a hacksaw hanging from the barn wall.
We watched as the man carried on as if he’d done this before. He laid the saw across a table.
Sweat dripped from my head as I panicked. What was he going to do to us? I thought. Do not worry, this
saw is not for you, he said as he placed the woman’s body on the table. He then began to dismember
her legs. He continued to hack through the bodies throughout the day. He would casually take breaks
between the removal of the body parts. After he was done, he used a rusty old wheel barrel to take the
parts out of the barn. He kept his word. I could hear the pigs happily squealing as he fed them.
The light that had previously comforted me dwindled away as darkness approached. As frightened
as I felt, all I could think about was water. “It is time”, he said as he wiped sweat from his brow. “I will
untie your arms so you can move freely. I encourage you to move as much as possible to keep the blood
circulating. Frostbite and hypothermia are inevitable if you let yourself settle. You can wear the clothes
you have on, but nothing more.
The barn was heated with an old wood stove. Our captor had fed it wood throughout the day. Yet
the wind from the storm outside seeped through the cracks. A chill came over me, fearing what was
next. The four technique no longer working. He then placed a makeshift collar around our necks.
Connected to the collar was a chain. After untying the ropes from behind our backs he told us to stand.
Fearing what he would do, I did what he told me.
He then unlatched the wooden brace holding the barn doors shut, unveiling winter’s wrath.
Weather in Michigan was unpredictable and harsh at times. That night was no different. The wind
bustled through the doors as we all stood staring into the night. Snow was falling rapidly and had quickly
begun accumulating. “Tonight’s storm is only a mild one but will last a few hours.” “Having your mouths
bound is a positive.” “It will protect your lungs.” Your heart rate will lower the less you move so keep
moving to boost your circulation.” “You will have to endure three hours in the weather.” “This trial is
brutal, I know but if your life is precious then you will improvise, adapt, and overcome.
He then led us by the chains out of the barn and into a wooden pen. It didn’t have a roof but was
too tall to climb over. “I know you must be thirsty, but if you try and eat the snow you will only amplify
dehydration and hypothermia.” He then removed the collars and locked the door. As he walked away in
his rabbit fur coat, he turned and once again said, “Do you have the desire to live, for you I truly hope
so.”
Frantically I surveyed the pen looking for a way out. The enclosure was made of old pallets, thin
boards, and cattle fence. It was sturdy enough to keep us in but not the wind out. It must have been
about twelve feet wide by twenty-four feet long. Rubbing my hands along the gaps, I felt something
warm run down my fingers. I had sliced my hand along the inside of one of the pallets. He had secured
razor blades and sharp nails from the inside to keep us from climbing out. Even if we were able to make
it to the top, we wouldn’t be able to climb over the razor wire that spiraled along the perimeter.
More frantic than I, the other man ran back and forth. He was shaking and sweating profusely. How
could he be sweating in this weather, I thought. On the other hand, I had begun to shiver. My feet had
already begun to tingle. Wearing only gym shorts, socks, and a t-shirt, I knew I must keep moving. The
other man was more fortunate than I. He was wearing pajama bottoms, socks and a hoodie. At least he
had a layer to break the wind.
The snow was dry and easy to move. Thinking maybe we could get out from the bottom. I began
moving the snow with my hands. As I moved it, I motioned for the other man to help. My attempts to
get his attention went unnoticed. He had found a nail long enough to cut through the stiches in his
mouth. Watching him, I debated on doing it myself. Though I thought of the burly man and his hacksaw.
Deciding it was best to keep my lips bound, I watched him saw through his. He yelled in agony as blood
dripped from his lips. Be quiet, I wanted to tell him, he’ll hear you.
When the last stitch broke the man dropped to his knees gasping and crying. He then stood up,
removed himself from his pants, and began urinating in the snow. “I’m Evan”, he said shivering and still
covering the white snow yellow. His urine smelled foul as the wind carried the smell. Not being able to
talk, I used a stick to spell out my name. Letter by letter, I spelled it out, Liam. He didn’t acknowledge
what I had written. He didn’t seem to care about what my name was.
Bending over he began to eat the yellow snow. Then pulling up his sleeves, he did something that
made my stomach churn. He picked off the scabs from his arms and started sucking on them. I now
understood he was detoxing and was trying to get a fix from the meth that had exited his body. I had a
cousin in jail once, who had described this same behavior from the inside. After doing this for a few
minutes he then spoke. Stuttering out his words, “I know it’s disgusting, but it is what it is.” “Now how
we gonna get out of this here, Liam. No matter what he was or what he spoke, it was comforting to hear
him speak to me.
Not knowing how to get out I just started moving. Shaking my head and still shivering, I began to
do jumping jacks. There wasn’t a way out and I was so cold. Knowing that I had to keep moving I
continued. I knew that if I didn’t move, my heart would slow and eventually stop. “You gonna listen to
that Behemoth or ya gonna try and help me find a way out?” Stopping, I once again tried looking from
the bottom. He looked for a way to climb over. Neither of us found a way to escape. Both of us,
shivering we stopped looking.
As we huddled together in the corner, a voice came from a speaker. “One hour has passed, two
hours remain.” Your lust for drugs trumps your lust to live.” “It will be your demise.” He’d seen, he’s
watching us, I thought. Not wanting to die, I began running in circles. The pain was excruciating. Every
step I took was like stepping on needles. My nose felt like it would break off.
“It’s no use, we’re gonna die, Evan said as he plopped on the ground. Using my arms, I motioned
for him to get up, but he refused. He sat in the corner with his teeth chattering and shoulders shaking.
While Evan sat, I continued. Running from one end to the other, tears freezing as they plummeted from
my eyes. As I ran, I tripped over something that caught my attention. It was a stack of a few boards
hidden under the snow. Uncovering them I counted them out in my head. There were several I dug out. I
crafted a fort in my head. We could use the wood for a shelter. Once again, I motioned for Evan to help.
Evan didn’t speak or move. “Two hours”, I heard as a voice projected from a hidden box.
Quickly I stumbled to Evan, shaking him. Tears ran down my cheeks as I faced the truth. I was
alone. Evan’s inability to try had snuffed out his life. He was dead. Time seemed to stand still in that
moment. Looking at his lifeless body, I realized he wasn’t a frail old man. He in fact was my age. The
drugs just made him look old. My sadness for him abandoned me to be replaced with anger. He should
have tried harder. I was now alone. He had left me alone.
Feeling numb and secluded, I wanted to give up. There wasn’t much fight left in me, yet
something in me snapped. I didn’t want to die. Ripping my wet clothes off, I threw them to the ground.
Trying to keep my temperature above freezing, I jumped and staggered in the snow. Laying Evan’s body
flat on the ground, I thought I would use it as a warm layer between me and the ground. One board at a
time, leaned them over Evan’s body and up against the pen, making an ominous clubhouse. Shivering
and naked, I crawled inside and laid on Evan’s lifeless body.
No longer having the strength to move, I lay crying. In the last hour I replayed my life. If only I had
another chance to do it all over again. If only I thought as my eyes closed. The door then opened, “Three
hours”. “Stand up.”, he said as he wrapped a fur coat around my frigid body. ”Come on, you have passed
but you are not out of the woods yet.” Replacing the collar around my neck he then led me back into the
barn.
“I have prepared a warm bath for you.” He then helped me lift my legs over a galvanized water
trough. “There, there”, he said, “Just sit and let the bath warm your blood. The pain of prickly needles
washed over my body as the numbness dwindled. Fading in and out, I watched him carefully remove a
stockpot from the stove. He poured the water from the pot over my head. “Just relax, you should be
proud of yourself.” “You have outlasted all who came before you.” “You’re a fighter and you value your
life. I watched as he warmed pot after pot, continuously pouring them over me.
“I will have to give you warm fluids intravenously.” “Try to stand”, he said as he lifted me up and
out of the trough. He then dried my body with a towel. After he dressed me in dry clothing, he led me to
a makeshift bedroom converted from a stall.
As he assisted me into the bed, I noticed a tray with medical instruments on it. What were they
for I wondered, but to tired to care anymore. He then placed the I.V. needle in my arm and covered me
up. “Rest up and sleep while I deal with the frostbite.” Before I was able to think about what he had just
said, I went out.
Waking up, I was no longer cold. The shivering and pain from the night before gone yet replaced
with new discomfort. My hands, feet, face, and head all pulsing. Slowly, I removed the blanket with my
bandaged hands to see my feet. Both were wrapped in bandages. Looking over my entire body, I
reached for my face. It was also bandaged. I could feel that my ears and nose were missing. “I know this
must be shocking to you, but it had to be.” “You had deep frostbite in your fingers, toes, ears and nose.
They had to be amputated. “I have sealed off the wounds and have given you antibiotics to fight off
infection.” “Be grateful your alive.”
“You are very ambitious, and I want to reward you for your success. “If you can continue to
cooperate, I will remove the stitches from your lips. “Don’t speak unless I ask you to.” “Can you give me
word that you can stay quiet?” I nodded in agreement.
As promised, he removed the sutures from my lips. Handing me a tin cup of water, he told me to
drink. Words can’t express how refreshing the first sip was. Not being able to control myself, I gulped
down the entire cup. Handing the cup back to him I managed to mumble, “more?” Violently, he struck
me in the face and stood up. “More, more more”, he yelled as he paced the floor. “Always wanting
more!” “You should have savored every last drop rather than gulping it down like a pig at a trough.”
“You have reached your third trial.” “Water is the source of all life and you will learn to appreciate it. Do
you have the desire to live?” “For you, I truly hope so.”
Locking the door behind him, he left the room. Feeling relief from his absence, I took a deep
breath. Concentrating on the air that went in and out my lungs, I was thankful to be alive. It had been a
couple of days since I was able to breathe through my mouth. I felt happiness and gratitude to just be
able to breathe. The blanket and bed kept me warm from the cold that seeped through the barn walls.
Feling relieved, I felt safe for that minute. I pulled the blanket up under my chin and just lived in the
moment. Looking for ways to escape no longer crossed my mind. Still fearful of the man, yet I felt a
strange feeling of gratitude toward him.
Mixed emotions danced around inside of me as I lay. Thinking of the others that were with me, I
pitied them. Had they truly wanted to survive, they would be alive. Had they fought harder, they would
have won against his trials. My sympathy for them abandoned my thoughts, replaced with
disappointment. Questioning my mental state, I laid wondering if I’d gone mad. How could I sympathize
with a man who had essentially tortured me. How could I be thankful to a killer, I wondered. As
comfortable as I was, I was thirsty. Three days was a long time to go without water. Knowing this, I
closed my eyes to try to sleep through it.
A familiar tune whistled through the cracks of the wall. My eyes blurry from crust, I wiped it away
with my bandaged hand. Curious, I tried peeking through a hole in a board. Seeing the two horses in the
next stall brought back anxiety from the first trial. Sounds of mumbling could be heard. Listening
intensely, I realized he had more victims. Wanting to scream out to them to calm their breathing, I said
nothing. Fearful he would kill me if I spoke. Though I didn’t have to. He was telling them to be calm and
they would live. If only they would listen, they could live. One after another perished throughout the
ordeal. Once again mixed emotions of sympathy and anger fought within me. I slammed my hand
against the stall boards. Why am I angry at them, I questioned myself. Hearing the distinct sound of the
hacksaw cutting through the bodies, I became sick. I crawled back in the bed and covered my head.
“Wake up, you have rested enough.” Leading me into the room where the bodies were, he
motioned for me to pick the parts up. “I will cut the meat and you will load it up.” “Do you
understand?”, he asked. I nodded yes and began putting the severed limbs in the wheelbarrow.
“Take it out back to the pigs.” “I trust you won’t try to run.” You will not get very far in your
condition and the weather” He was right, still bandaged and weak I knew I would freeze. Reluctantly I
put a arm, leg, and head in the wheelbarrow.
Once again, the cold made me shiver as I treaded through the snow. The night was calm. The
moon shined down on the solar panels that lined the buildings. I was on some sort of homestead.
Nearing the structure that housed the pigs, I cringed at the thought of feeding them. The squealing led
me to the hog house. Opening the door and entering, I gasped in horror. Piles of bones lay everywhere
within the house. The pigs squealed in delight as I tossed the body parts to them. The smell was pungent
and took my breath away. Not being able to hold back, I vomited the only liquids I had in me. After
unloading my delivery, I left to retrieve another load. Feet still bandaged, and I was cold, the thought of
running left my mind. Yearning for the warm bed, I trudged my way back to the barn. This went on
throughout the night.
“Almost done, this is the last of it.”, he said as he cut through a torso of a woman. “You have done
well, and I am proud of you.” “I know your cold and must be thirsty.” Yet, you still have forty-eight hours
left until you can replenish your thirst. “Keep motivated and you will triumph over your it” After the last
load was completed, he led me to the bed and rebandaged my wounds. Curiously looking down at my
severed toes, I seen I was missing five of them. The same as he bandaged my hands. I was four less
fingers. Two were gone from each hand.
My stomach grumbled as I tossed and turned. All I could think about was water and food. I
eventually passed out from the nights work. Waking up, I felt disoriented and weak. The hunger for food
and water still consuming my thoughts. “Twenty-Four hours left”, his voice said from outside the stall.
“Get up, I have more work for you.” “You have to earn your keep.”
The man then entered the room and placed the collar around my neck. “Here is a coat to keep
you warm, he said as he placed it on my back. Then he handed me some rubber boots. “These should
help keep your feet dry while you dig.” Wanting to ask, dig what, I didn’t dare from the fear of being
struck again. The task will be difficult but not impossible. Handing me a shovel, he led me to the spot he
wanted dug.
“The weather has let up and the temperature has risen. I can not trust that you might try to run.
He then locked the chain to a stake in the ground. “The hog house needs cleaned of the bones.” “Dig me
a hole big enough to bury the remains of the less fortunate.” “I will return in twenty-four hours.” You
have fared well so far, keep up the good work and you will be rewarded.” He then turned and walked
away.
The sun was just beginning to rise, and it felt warn against me face. The black sky turned to a
canvas of pastels. The view was stunning under any condition. After admiring the horizon, I started my
grueling work. Trying to dig with missing toes was difficult and excruciating. Placing the shovel into the
frozen ground, I bared down with all my weight. Breaking the ground seemed unfeasible, but I managed.
Letting out agonizing cries, I repeated the movements until I finally moved dirt.
Scanning around, my head was on a swivel looking for cameras. The thought of trying to escape
weighing heavily. Using my bandaged hands, I felt for any gaps in my collar. It was tight around my neck.
I Then looked for any weak links in the chain but found none. The steak the chain was hooked to must
have been buried ten feet, I thought as I gave it a tug. Giving up on any escape attempts, I continued to
dig.
The hunger and dehydration had started to take effect. My head pounded like a hammer on a
nail. I became nauseous. Fearing I might throw up, I sit and rested on the ground. Looking down at the
homestead, I wondered who the man was. Nearly falling asleep, I pushed myself up off the ground.
Visions of water surrounding me engulfed my every thought. God, I was thirsty.
After I finished digging the hole I fell to my knees in exhaustion. Worrying that if I fell asleep, I
would die of dehydration. Standing up, I desperately tried staying awake. The chain weighed down my
neck making it hard to stand. Using the shovel as a brace, I wedged it into the ground and balanced the
chain over top of the shovel. It lifted the weight off me, allowing me to stand easier. Standing and
swaying, I watched as day turned to night and night back to day. “Congratulations”, the man said as he
walked up the hill toward me.
“II knew you would conquer the test.” “You will soon be rewarded for your victory.” Leading me
back to the barn, I stumbled and fell. The man picked me up and helped me to my feet. As He laid me in
the bed, oddly enough I wanted to thank him. “Before I tend to your bandages, I am going to start an I.V.
to restore your electrolytes. He then handed me a cup of water. “Drink”, he said. Wanting badly to gulp
it down, I refrained and sipped slowly. The water was refreshing as it moistened my mouth. Water
wasn’t something I normally craved but, in that moment, it was all a I wanted. Living mostly on energy
drinks and sodas, I rarely drank it.
As I sipped, I thought about my body and how I had neglected it. Peculiar enough, the man was
giving me all I ever needed. He had somehow managed to push my stronger version to the surface.
“Good news”, he said as he wrapped the final bandage around my foot. “You have made it to the last
trial.” “But before we discuss that, I want to reward you on your accomplishments.” “I’m sure you have
questions, and I will allow you to ask them.” A little conversation will do us both some good.” I must say
I am as curious about you as you are of me.” He said as he poured me another cup of water. “But not
until you have rested.” “I look forward to it, I will see you this afternoon.” Locking the door behind him,
exhausted, I fell asleep.
Hunger pains interrupted my slumber. Turning about in the bed, images of food ravaged my
thoughts. Trying hard, I managed to push the vivid images of cheeseburgers out of my mind. Replacing
them with the image of the man conversing with me. What would I ask him, I pondered. Would I set him
off again and be fed to the pigs. One would think that I wouldn’t want to talk to him after he had cut off
my nose, yet strangely enough I did. I was curious about him.
My tossing about abruptly interrupted as I heard the man enter the room. “Well now, how do you
feel this afternoon?” He asked, as he pulled a old wooden chair next the bed and sat down. To scared to
speak I laid quietly. “It Is o.k., he said cheerfully as he patted my leg. “You may speak”. “Better but
hungry”, I managed to mumble. “Yes, I know you are hungry, but you have entered your final trial.” You
must endure three weeks with no food.” You have been here a week.” “Two weeks remain.”
“People of the world are gluttons. Indulging in prepackaged garbage to feed the body. Never
having to hunt or forge for it. If you make it the three weeks, you will have learned to appreciate what
you put in your mouth. You will think about what it is for, rather than just stuffing your face. Do you still
have the desire to live, for you I truly hope so.
“What is your name?”
“Liam, my names, Liam”
“Well, Liam, my names Doc” “It is finally nice to meet your true self.” I’ve been waiting along time for
this.” “You are now worthy to speak to.” “You have shed your old, infected skin and are growing new
skin.” “I have helped you thus far to create a better, you.” “You may speak freely”.
“Why are you doing this”?
“To save you.” “To rid you of the worlds temptations” “I am extracting all you have digested and
replacing it with the will to survive.”
“Who are you”, I fearfully asked.
“I am a doctor who the world cast out due to what they call negligence.” “I only pushed my patients to
better themselves and refused to subscribe fake antidotes”. “I didn’t hand them a crutch when they
could walk on their own.”” I left the city and moved off grid”. “Here I am free to practice as I see fit”.
“My patients now, are those that want to better themselves but just need a little push.” “Yet, none have
come as far as you, Liam.” “What is it, you desire, Liam?”
“A life of fulfillment”, I said.
“Are you not now, achieving that goal, Liam?”
Before I could answer, he told me, “Enough talk for the day”, we have work to do. “Don’t speak
unless I ask you to”. Unhooking my I.V., he then furnished me with warm clothes and boots again. “Grab
the wheelbarrow”, he said as we excited the barn. He then led me to the hog house. “I want you to pick
up the bones and put them in the hole you dug. Feeling weak, I pushed through the chore. The sight of
the mutilated parts wasn’t as repulsive to me as before. Yet, I did wonder who they were and where
they had come from. The day sped by quickly.
That night, I laid in the bed thinking of the man. Could he be right with what he was doing. I did
feel a new feeling of accomplishment. Had I truly shed my old self. Had he had given me what every
doctor before him had failed at. Questioning my own thoughts, I drifted off to sleep.
As the days went by, I would often help him rid the world of the weak. Every few days he would
bring in new patients. One after one they failed his trials. Some made it past the first, only to die in the
pen or the cooler, depending on the weather. We had many evening conversations where I learned
more about Doc, as he did me. Some nights I would listen to him mourn their deaths. He would often sit
by the stove talking to himself and crying. He would question their inability to understand what he was
doing. Finding myself somewhat sympathetic to him, I spoke out. “It’ll be o.k. you’re a good doctor, they
just don’t have a desire to live. “Thank you”, he said, “but do not speak unless I tell you”. With that I
climbed into bed and covered my head.
Ribs now visible, I was nearing death. No longer having the energy to help him any longer, I spent
the remaining few days in bed. As the final day approached, he came to me and said, If you don’t die
through the night, I will intravenously feed you the nutrients your body requires. Then you can truly live
your life. Tears filled his eyes as he pulled the blanket over me. You have been an outstanding and
cooperative patient and I thank you. Share to the world the gift I have given you.
Waking up, I was confused and again fighting off a sedated state. Rubbing my eyes in dismay, I
stumbled out of bed and tripped over my tennis shoes. Looking down at my disfigured feet, I was
perplexed at the sight of the floor. Continuously wiping at my vision, I scanned the room. Soda bottles
littered the nightstand. An empty potato chip bag lay empty on the bed.
Falling onto the floor, I curled up into a fetal position and cried. Visions of the dead filled my
thoughts. My mind was baffled with an emotional and ethical struggle. Four, four, four, I tried to
manage as anxiety reared its ugly head. “No!”, I yelled. I was alive and I was thriving. Quickly jumping to
my feet, I ran to my dresser mirror. It would be the first time, seeing the new me since my amputations.
Raising my head slowly my eyes met a man I had never seen before. A mangled mess stared back at me.
Yet, I didn’t see the ugly. I seen a victor. A man who fought for his life. I seen a man with the desire to
live. Admiring my new self, I calming starting whistling that familiar tune. I knew what I had to do.
The next few months, I spent talking to the detectives. Occasionally throwing them a false bone
toward their investigation. Had I not been a missing person, I would have avoided the police all
together.
A year has passed since my abduction. My life has changed for the better. I have faired well. I
often think about Doc and if he is still practicing. I did what he asked. I survive, appreciate, and share my
new gift to the world. I no longer spend my days waiting for life to toss me a crumb of its cookie. There
is value in the very air we breathe, the water we drink, the dwelling that shelters us, and the nutriment
we eat. Yet, it’s been difficult to convince people of this without some persuasion. So, please calm your
breathing. I am not going to kill you. This will only take three minutes. So, relax, do you have the desire
to live?” “For you, I truly hope so.

30sM and I think I've botched it with the only person in my life I want to be with and don't think I'll ever want to date again.
So for this to make sense I'll have to start in the middle, rewind to the beginning then give you all the end.
In the middle of last summer I finally got the chance and courage to ask out a girl I have been crazy about for years. We are in the same wider social circle and talked occasionally. Now I maybe terrible at reading potential romantic situations but I genuinely believed there was a spark between us.
The date we went on was BAD, I mean boring with no flirting and little chat over messages before or after. A week or so later I messaged her and she very kindly but clearly told me there were no romantic feelings there from her side (can't say I was shocked by this).
This really hit me hard and I proceeded to lose about 3stone in weight, get a personal trainer, change my diet, start seeing a therapist (should have done that years ago) and generally try to make my life better. Seeing a therapist has made me see that I have been terribly depressed for a large part of the last 6 years and have been covering it with food and alcohol. Part of my depression made me think I wasn't good enough for anyone and this is very likely part of the reason the date was so bad (no confidence). This date also being the first one I had been on in about a decade, what a great time to relearn how to date - with the love of your life. I had nothing to talk about, wasn't inquisitive and can understand why she didn't want to see me again.
For the last 8 months I've been rediscovering old hobbies I put down due to the depression, signed up to a couple of dating apps, been on some dates (where I've been fun and interesting but I don't seem to generate romantic feelings in other people), and genuinely tried to get over her.
Now the social circle we inhabit revolves around a sports league so until a couple of weeks ago I haven't had to see her (I have looked at her IG occasionally, I tried not to but you know how it is). Bumping into each other was incredibly uncomfortable for me but it was just in the passing so I was mostly able to hold it together.
There have been a couple of other things that have made me spiral about this but posting them would likely dox me and/or her so I'll leave them out
I don't think I'm posting here looking for advice or anything I just need to say it out loud. I had a chance with someone I think is the love of my life and botched it. I'm now a different person than I was last year and yet it is incredibly unlikely that I'll get another chance with her, I don't want anyone else, I can't see myself with anyone else and there is now a very good chance I'll spend the rest of my life alone

So after today's games I feel like it's safe to say Hans redeemed himself, if that was ever even thought to be necessary.
If I could reach out to him personally to tell him he did a great job I would, but I can't, so I figured perhaps this could be a way to do it for me and the other nay sayers. Like, sign down here if you were a doubter and now a believer.
Yeah, I was one of the non-believers after the T1 game. I thought Hans wasn't up to par, I thought he was the heavyweight of the team.
Hans, I'm sorry, I was wrong. You're one of G2, Europe's pride and the West's only remaining hope (after the series tomorrow), and rightfully so. You played your ass off today and you were insane, gapping JKL and Meiko against mostly everyone's expectations. You deserve to be where you are as much as the rest of the team, and whatever happens from now on, whatever the results will be, I'm a fan.
I'm extremely disturbed to hear that he got death threats and such after the T1 series. People are nuts, man. It's a game, we all want our teams to win and we're desperate to see a western team thrive in an international tournament but that should be that. We can get a little bit too excited at times, but death threats and such? What's wrong with people.
Hans, you did absolutely fantastic and whatever happens from now on, I learned one thing today:
I don't know shit about this game, and if a player on a team seems to underperform I'll shut up and hope for the best, no more.
And, for the League scene as a whole, I sincerely hope a lot of other people would do the same.
Best of luck Hans and G2, make us proud, boys!
P.S. Sorry had to throw a little shade to NA in there for shits and giggles, I do hope TL wins too!

(An animation shows black and white clouds parting)
Charles: (Off-screen) Once upon a time, there was a glowing city protected by golden gates known as Heaven. It was ruled by beings of pure light. Angels that worshipped good and shielded all from evil. Lucy was one of these angels. She was a dreamer with fantastical ideas for all of creation. But she was seen as a troublemaker by the elders of Heaven. For they felt her way of thinking was dangerous to the perder of their world. So she watched as the angels began to expand the universe in their ways. From the dust of Earth, they created Eve (I couldn't think of a female name that looked like Adam) and Lilian. Equals as the first of mankind, but despite this, Eve demanded control and Lilian refused to submit to her will. He fled the garden. Drawn in by his fierce independence, Lucy found him and the two rebellious dreamers fell deeply in love. Together, they wished to share the magic of free will with humanity, offering the fruit of knowledge to Eve's new groom, Adam, who gladly accepted. But this gift came with a curse. For the single act of disobedience, evil finally found its way into Earth. With it, a new realm of darkness and sin. And the order Heaven had worked to maintain was shattered. As punishment for their reckless act, Heaven cast Lucy and her love into the dark pit she had created, never allowing her to see the good that came from humanity, only the cruel and the wicked. Ashamed, Lucy lost her will to dream. But Lilian thrived, empowering demon-kind with his voice and his songs. And as the numbers of Hell grew, so did its power. Threatened by this, Heaven made a truly heartless decision. That every year, they would send down an army, an extermination to ensure Hell and its sinners could never rise against them. But Lilian's hope remained. And his dream was passed down to their precious son, the Prince of Hell. (The prince shuts the "Story Of Hell" book) (On-screen) Don't worry, Dad. I'll make you proud. (He holds a key)
Vagner: Charles?
Charles: Augh! (The key turns into a cat) Oh, shit. Did you hear all that?
Vagner: Uh... Yeah, I was right there.
Charles: Sorry. I get worked up after an extermination happens. This story helps.
Vagner: (chuckles) I know. Don't worry. I enjoy your theatrics. Are you okay?
Charles: I'm fine, just...Thinking, ya know, family stuff.
Vagner: Did you hear from your dad yet?
(Charles shakes his head saying no)
Vagner: Oof. How long has it been now?
Charles: Not that long, only...Seven...Years...Off something important, I'm sure. But this kingdom was something he really cared about. Something I care about.
Vagner: Well, at least you aren't alone.
Charles: I just hope what I'm trying to do here will work.
Vagner: It will. I have faith in you.
(The cat hopes on Charles)
Vagner: All right. Come on. Alice says she has something to show us.
(Vagner heads to the door and Charles look out of the window and see Hell on fire and goes)
(A commercial plays)
Alice: Well, hello there you wayward sinner. Do you like blood, violence and depravity of a sexual nature? Of course you do. That's why you're in Hell! But what would you say there was a place to stay that had none of that? Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel, a misguided path to redemption! Founded five days ago by Lucy's delusional son Charleson Morningstar! Come place your fate in his inexperienced hands as he tries to work through his mommy issues by fixing you! Here, we offer fun thing! Such as somewhat functional staff! And 24 hour Pest Control! Custom rooms, and just look at this tacky parlor! Enjoy riveting conversation with our singular resident. Wow! All this and more at the Hazbin Hotel! You last desperate attempt at salvation starts here.
(The tv suits off)
Alice: So, what'd ya' think?
Vagner: I'm sorry, what the fuck was that?!
Charles: Uh, yeah, one note...Alice, I mean...First off, thank you so much for making this, seriously, amazing, but um...Maybe the tone is a bit...Off? We want people to want to come here, this makes it look...Ummm...
Vagner: Bad. The word you're looking for is "bad".
Alice: Funny, I was going for hilarious!
Vagner: It didn't explain anything about how we're trying to save demons from extermination, which is the whole fucking point.
Charles: Vagner is right, Alice. The commercial was to let sinners know we are trying to help them.
Alice: Well, my dear, I haven't been active in Hell for some time, and everyone remembers me from my radio show! The proper medium to express oneself! But YOU insisted on this noisy picture box adversiment! So I had a little fun with it.
Vagner: Oh, fun? You had a little fun with it? (Stand on the sofa) Well, this is not what we want to represent us. When you showed up here a week ago, you told us you would help run the hotel! Instead, you're mocking us. Nobody's going to want to come to a place that a powerful overlord like you thinks is a waste of time!
(A demon on a sofa raises her hand)
Vagner: What?
Angela: If'n ya filmin' a commercial, can I suggest you take better advantage of the talented celebrity you have right here?
Vagner: Angela, you're a porn star.
Angela: A famous porn star. I'll have the horniest sinners knockin' these walls down to get in.
Vagner: We are not filming a porn as a commercial.
Angela: Why not? Sex sells, don't it? I swear if you film me goin' at it with mistress fancy-talk-creepy-voice here, you'd rollin' in participants willin' to stay at this tacky hotel.
Alice: Haha! Never going to happen!
Charles: Angela, I appreciate you wanting to use you special skills to, um, attract folks to the hotel, but...I really don't want to exploit you, in that way!
Angela: Oh, please, baby. This body was made to be exploited. I got the arms, I got the stamina, I got the legs. I got the lung capacity-- Oh-oh I got the legs! The gag reflex, the holes...
(Charles laughs uncomfortably and his phone rings with his mom calling)
Angela: The small tits that make everyone think I'm a man...
Charles: Uhhh, hold that thought. I'll be right back! (Walks away)
Angela: I could keep goin' all night, baby.
(Charles breathes and answers the phone)
Charles: Hello? Mom?
Angela: Hey, I have a question. If freaky face over there is so powerful, then why can't she just make people stay here?
Alice: Oh, trust me, (ominously) I can!
Hisky: Why the hell do you think I'm here?
(The camera goes to Hisky at the bar)
Hisky: You actually think I'd be cleaning bottles and listening to you fuck's bitches moan all the time if she wasn't forcin' me?
Niffter: I like being forced!
Hisky: Keep that to yourself, Niff.
Angela: What, you don't like being here with me, Whiskers?
Hisky: Call me "Whiskers" again and I'll that bottle down your throat.
Angela: Kinky. But I like pussies. But keep talkin' dirty.
Vagner: Ugh, Angela, let Hisky do her job. And no, we can't force sinners to stay here. They need to choose to.
Angela: I'm choosing to be here, and I think is all stupid. We're in Hell, toots. It's kind of the end of the road, ain't it?
Vagner: Well, maybe it doesn't have to be. Just because nobody has made it before doesn't mean is not possible. (Angela pust her arm in his shoulder)
Angela: Hey, whatever means I can keep crashin' here rent free. Crack is expensive.
Charles: (excitedly) Yeah, I can! Totally. Yeah, I'll head over there right away...Okay. (Turns off the phone) Hah! YES! YES!! Hahahaha!! Vagner! Holy shit!
Vagner: Ahh! What?!
Charles: (through closed mouth) Get over here!
(Vagner sighs and goes to where Charles is)
Vagner: What's going on?
Charles: (Inhales) My mom just called. She said that the leader of the Angel Army wants to meet. She asked if I could go instead. (Breathes deeply)
Vagner: But... But...But the extermination just happened. What would they want this soon after...
Charles: (Singing) I can do this. Somehow, I know it I'll get Heaven behind my plan!
Vagner: Charles, hold on.
Charles: There's just no way I could blow it. Not this once a lifetime change!
Vagner: It's just a meeting.
Charles: To change their minds. And touch their hearts. Or whatever angels have.
Vagner: This could be bad.
Charles: Cheer up, Vagner. This could be swell. Something tells that today will be a happy day in Hell!
Vagner: Okay, but just don't... sing to them.
Angela: That motherfucker is halfway down the street.
Vagner: Is he...
Angela: Oh, he's dancin'.
Vagner: Ugh, no.
Charles: There's a warm fuzzy feeling that wafts through the air! Every street so revealing it's hard not to stare. It's a realm so appealing it beats anywhere! If you don't mind the smell! It's a happy day in Hell! Hi, miss!
Demon: Go fuck yourself!
Dead Sinner #1: There's a endless trash fire that's burnig my soul!
Charles: Hello!
Imp: There's a lot of barbed wire to shove in her holes!
Charles: Uh, excuse me...
Executioner: Doing what is required we all have a role!
Dead Sinner #2: I'm not doing well!
Ensemble: Another shitty day in Hell!
Charles: If I can show them the dream I've dreamed, that any soul can change!
Vagner: Those angels minds are hard to change!
Charles: Then they know that everyone can be redeemed from the evil to the strange!
Vagner: They're bloodthirsty and deranged!
Charles: I can hear all their stories, the lost and the displaced! And I know that they're of an acquired taste! But if I open the door and give them a place at my Hazbin Hotel it'll be a happy day in Hell! (Jumps in the back of a truck) From the porn studio where the cinephiles go to watch award winning demon bukkake shows to the Cannibal Town where they don't wear a frown 'cause...Holy shit, ew, my gosh, why?! And I don't give a crow that her brains got in my eye! Cause I know I can spare them from Heaven's genocide! I can do this...
Dead Sinner #1: There's an endless trash fire...
Charles: I just know it! Dead Sinner #1: That's burning my soul!
Chorus: Ahhhhhhhhhh!
Charles: I'll get Heaven behind my plans! There's just no way I could blow it!
Demon Sinner #3: I kinda like the barbed wire that's shoved in my hole!
Charles: Not this once in a lifetime chance! To change their minds!
Trenchcoat Demon: And touch my parts!
Charles: Oh...No, thank you. I'm just gonna...Fullfill my destiny!
Trenchcoat Demon: Your loss fucker!
Charles: I can already tell! Today is gonna be a fucking happy day in Heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeell! (Charles enters at the lobby) Hello? (echoes) Hello? Creepy...(He goes to the reception, rings the bell in the table and a paper and a feather pen appear in front of him) Oh, okay! Also creepy. (Signs the paper)
(Elevator doors open, Charles goes to them and enters in a dark room)
Charles: Hello? Is anyone here?
(The lights turn on)
Eve: 'Sup?
Charles: Holy shit! (Falls in the floor and gets up) Hi, I'm Charles. My mom asked if I could meet you.
Eve: Yeah, I know.
Charles: Okay, well, it's nice to meet you. (Stands his hand)
Eve: Totally. Nice to meet you, too. (Stands her hand)
(Charles hand passes through Eve's hand)
Charles: Ahh!
Eve: Ha! I fucking got you! Did you fuckin' see that?
(Luther shaves his head in yes)
Eve: Good shit!
Charles: Uh, so wait, you aren't here?
Eve: No, you think I'd come down there? (Laughs) No. I mean, I love the vibe, totally, I love your tunes. Pretty fuckin' hardcore, don't get me wrong. But, it's such a bummer, man. Everything down there's just so "eugh" ya know? (Chuckles) Ew.
Charles: Right. So I'm happy we got this opportunity to meet. There's a project I've been working on that I really want to talk to you about...(Eve puts her finger in his mouth)
Eve: Hey, hey, hey, slow down. We got time. How about we get to know each other, mm? How about some lunch? You hungry? I got you! (Shows a plate with ribs) Here's my personal favourite. You'll love it.
Charles: Uh, thanks! (His arms passes through the plate of ribs)
Eve: (Laughing) I got you again, fucker! Haha fuckin' hilarious! Haha!
(Back at the Hazbin Hotel, everyone is at the lobby)
Vagner: Okay, so Charles is dealing with something very important, so while he's gone, we are making a new commercial. One that representants his vision and what we're doing here. So we need a camera. Alice?
(Alice snaps her fingers and an old camera appears in Vagner's hand)
Vagner: A video camera.
Alice: Hmmm. (Snaps her fingers)
(A video camera appears in Vagner's hand)
Vagner: All right, let's do this!
(Vagner films Angela sitting at the bar)
Vagner: And...Action!
Hisky: "Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel, can I help you with anything?"
Angela: "I've been a bad girl. And I need a big strong mommy to put me in my place...On the path to redemption!"
Hisky: Ugh! "Well, you come..."
Angela: "Oh yes!"
Hisky: (boredly) "To the right place!"
Vagner: Cut! Okay, Angela, I need you to be less horny, if possible. And Hisky, can you maybe not have a script in front of your face?
Hisky: (Angrily) I ain't no actress, I can't memorize this shit!
Angela: Well, we could improve this shit, baby cakes! (Purrs seductively and Hisky push her out of the counter) Ahh!
Hisky: Whoops. (Drink a bottle)
Vagner: Hisky, come on!
(Meanwhile, Charles is bored)
Eve: So I was playing this gig, and for some fucking reason this virtue boy was digging on the drummer, and it's like, do you know who I am? I'm fucking Eve. I'm the original pussy! All pussies descend from me. You think you like a drummer pussy? No way, I'm the Pussy-fucking master! (Eats sloppily) So anyway, then we fucked, and it was awesome. What'd you do this weekend?
Charles: Wait, your name is Eve? Like the first woman? That means you...Ohhh...(Enlightened) That explains so much.
Eve: I know. I fucking rock.
Charles: Well, Eve, ma'am. Mrs. Eve, ma'am.
Eve: Call me Pussymaster.
Charles: Eve, you seem like a smart...well, stand up girl.
Eve: (With the finger in her teeth) Uh-huh.
Charles: And I know you are the leader of the angels. And you are a bigger revolutionary, a...A genius!
Eve: I maen, your words, babe.
Charles: Who would really her name on something.
Eve: Fucking love putting my name on shit! Shit's the best!
Charles: It's a solution to our biggest problem!
Eve: Oh, herpes. Yeah, that's a bitch.
Charles: No! Our other biggest problem.
Eve: Oh, uh...Ugly people? (Looks at the camera) Math? Global warming? Nah, wait that's Earth's problem. Umm...
(At the hotel, a bug walks in the floor and a needle tries to stab it saverel times)
Niffter: Hehehe. Stab. Stab. Stab.
Vagner: Alright Niffter. Niffter? Niffter! (Stops him) Your line is "We have the cleanest rooms". Okay?
Niffter: Got it. I'm ready.
Vagner: (Turns on the camera) Action!
(Niffter looks at the camera with his pupil constricted and Angela and Vagner look at him confused and he keeps staring weirdly)
Vagner: Uhh...Cut. (Turns off the camera)
(Niffter smiles again)
Niffter: (Giggles) How was that?
Vagner: Well, Niffter, you actually have to say the line. So let's roll again.
Niffter: Okay!
Vagner: Action. (Turns on the camera)
(Niffter stares deeply at the camera)
Angela: You're doing great, Vagina!
Vagner: Cut! Alright, um, maybe wr can try to fix it in the post.
Angela: Do you even know what that means?
Vagner: (Angrily) I'll figure it out!
(In the lobby, Vagner is watching the video with the camera connected to the tv)
Hisky: (On TV) Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel.
(Vagner groans, covers his eyes and Alice appears in his side)
Alice: Seems like you're having a bit of trouble there, hm?
Vagner: Ugh, esta pendeja...Why are you even here?
Alice: For the entertainment! I came here because I love seeing wasteful souls struggle to accomplish something meaningful and fail spectacularly. Like you are doing now! Good job!
Vagner: (Turns on the camera) And here is Alice, the egocentric piece of shit that...
(Alice gets static on the camera and it starts to spark and Vagner screams and knocks the camera down)
Alice: I wouldn't try that, my darling. (Sinisterly) This face was made for radio.
Vagner: (Gets angry) That's it! I don't care who or what you are! If you are staying here you are going to make this work! Beause it won't be so "entertaining" to watch an empty hotel will it, shit ass?! (Turns around and walks away)
Alice: Fair enough. I'll tell you what. Let's make a deal.
Vagner: Pft! You think I'm that stupid? Making a deal with a demon like you.
Alice: Not for your soul, just a simple deal. I do this for you, and you never ask me to engage with this frivolous television technology ever again. Or...Charles can come back to absolutely nothing! Your choice.
Vagner: (Sighs) Fine. (Gets the video camera and raises in Alice's hand and green ghosted skulls fly around it)
Alice: Now then! (Makes the camera disappear and snaps her fingers)
(Angela, Hisky and Niffter, a lot of filming materials and a ghost recording team appear in the lobby and everyone gets tailor clothes)
Vagner: Alright, everyone! Let's make a fucking commercial.
(Meanwhile)
Eve:...When you take him out for the fifth time and he still expects you to pay the check, but you're like, (In deep voice) "Hey I thought you wanted equality"!
Charles: (Frustrated) No! Our shared problem of overpopulation in Hell!
Eve: (Normal) Oh! Well, that's not a problem! We got that covered! Luther, how many demons did you kill this year?
Luther: Got a good 275 this year, ma'am.
Eve: 275? Whoa, badass! Awesome job, danger dick! Pound it. (Punch fists with Luther)
Charles: Uh, no, not awesome. Those are my people, you know that, right?
Eve: Ohhh, yeah...That must suck for you. Pft...Hahahaha! Charles: But these are souls. Human souls, just the same as the ones you have in Heaven.
Luther: They're not the same. They had their chance and they earned damnation.
Charles: You're wrong. Sinners made mistakes, sure, but everyone makes mistakes.
Luther: Angels don't make mistakes.
Charles: You really think that?
Luther: I know that.
Eve: Yeah, I've never made a mistake in my fucking life.
Luther: The only reason you're still here is because Mommy gave you and your Hellborn-kind a pardon from an exorcist blade. How does that feel? To know how little you matter.
(Charles shrinks back)
Eve: Oops, almost out of time. Guess we should get into it...
Charles: Oh! Fuck!...(Get up from the chair) Okay. I've a lot to get through and not a lot of time and I feel like you weren't really hearing before, so here goes. (Clears throat) (Singing) I know Hell's population is out of control. It's a bad situation, it's taking a toll. If we rehabe these sinners and cleanse all their souls at my Hazbin Hotel! (Normal) Wait I'm getting ahead of myself! Right! Extermination! (Singing) I know you guys fly down just to kill once a year. And it must be annoying to schlep all the way here. If they join you in Heaven that trip disappears! You can wave that chore farewell! (Deep breath) It'll be a happy day in...
Eve: (Singing) Let me stop you right there, save us all precious time!
Charles: (Normal) Okay?
Eve: If what you're suggesting is letting them climb! Up the ladder. Oh they rather cross the Pearly Gates? Sorry, sweetie, but there's no defying in their fates! 'Cause Hell is forever wheter you like it or not! Had their chance to behave better now they boil in a pot! 'Cause the rules are black and white there's no use in trying to fight it! They're burning for their lives until we kill them again!
Charles: Okay, but...
Eve: Just try to chillax, babe, you're wasting your breath!
Charles: (Nervously) Hehe...
Eve: Did I hear you imply that they deserve death? Are they winners? Are they sinners? 'Cause it's cut and dry!
Charles: Actually, if you take a look...
Eve: Fair is fair, an eye for an eye! And when all's said and done! (Said and done) There's the question of fun! (Fun) And for those of us with divine ordainment, extermination is entertainment! (Imitates guitar) Guitar solo, fuck yeah! (Imitates guitar) Hell is forever whether you like or not! Had their chance to behave better now they boil in a pot!
Charles: Where all these people come from?
Eve: 'Cause the rules are black and white, there's no use in trying to fight it! They're burning for their lives until we kill them again! (materializes a guitar and play it) Fucking Hell is forever and it's meant to suck a lot! So give up your dumb endeavor 'cause you don't have a shot!
(Charles groans, his paper gets on fire and his hair moves in the air and horns appear in his head)
Eve: Long as I've got your attention, I guess In should probably mention that we made a determination (Shows a contract) To move up the next extermination!
Charles: What?!
Eve: Can't wait a whole year to slaughter those little cunts! (Holds Charles' wrist) I know is just been a week, but we'll be back in six months! (Spins Charles out of the room and plays her guitar)
Charles: Um, wait, didn't you...(Goes at the door, but it closes) Awh, shit! (Punches the door)
(Charles returns sad to the Hazbin Hotel)
Vagner: Charles! (Hugs him) How did it go? Did they listen?
Charles: Oh, uh...They sure did...hear it! But, um...
Vagner: Oh! Come here. We have something exciting to show you! (Holds Charles to the living room) Alice pulled some strings, and it's about to air.
Alice: I pulled a few limbs too! Hahaha!
Charles: Wait? The commercial? You all made a new one?
Angela: Yeah, one of my better performances, if I do can say so myself.
Charles: That's...That's amazing.
Angela: Shh! It's starting!
Vagner: (On TV) Welcome to the Hazbin Hot...
(The TV changes to the 666 News channel and everyone complains)
Kallie: (On TV) Breaking news in Hell today! We have just received word from the Heaven Embassy that the next extermination is happening sooner than ever before! Do you know what that means, Tomita?
Tomita: No. What does that means, Kallie?
Kallie: It means we are all royally fucked!
(The clock in an hourglass changes to 176 with everyone screaming)
Angela: Wait...What? Why?!
(A drone laser scans a headless body of an angel laying in Hell and Eve and Luther see then from the ship)
Luther: We found the body, ma'am. They've never managed to kill one of us before. We should just go down there now and destroy them!
Eve: No, no. We can't risk them catching on. But don't worry, when we come back, there won't be a demon left to pull a stunt like this again. (Breaks the projector and her eyes and mouth glow in the dark)
(The end credits start playing)

Conspiracy theories involving “elite” pedophile rings have recently been dominating social media in a disorienting frenzy. They have been around for some time but in this century rose back to popularity during the 2016 Election cycle. This crop, at least, took root with what became known as “Pizzagate.” Promoters of that conspiracy theory in 2016 used social media platforms to make unfounded but viral allegations that Hillary Clinton and other prominent Democrats were running a pedophile ring out of the basement of a pizzeria even though that restaurant had no basement, or any ties to known politicians other than the typical flesh pressing (Phrasing I know) moments fit for a picture hung on the wall. Since then, the dark theme of Pizzagate has found new life with permutations forming part of the #Qanon conspiracy theory, incorporated under the umbrella term “pedogate.” The gist of the #pedogate conspiracy theory is that global elites (politicians, celebrities, and wealthy businesspersons) are covertly involved in a far-reaching ring that uses young children for sexual purposes. “What most of these conspiracy theories involve in one way or another is laying accusations of pedophilia or involvement in pedophile rings at the feet of people that they despise or hate, and during the 16’ election cycle, Democrats were a wide target for an opposing political movement that had hijacked the rival Republican party. Pizzagate originated with the “alt right” and “alt lite,” far right extremists who range from outright white supremacists to those who publicly shun racists but otherwise fall in step with their belief systems. Pizzagate jumped from the fringes to the mainstream because as it denigrated Hillary Clinton, it sucked in supporters of then-candidate Donald Trump. After the election all mention of pedogate seemed to be put on a simmer while other National outrages boiled over (#Covid #RussiaGate #BLM) and just like clockwork (heading into our next election cycle has been turned back up. The pedogate conspiracy and all associated stories employ a centuries-old tactic: playing on deep-seated human anxieties by conjuring images of imperiled children, the purest and defenseless victim of any manner of injustice. An example in the modern era of weaponized conspiracy was the satanic panic of the 1980s, in which a wave of hysteria over alleged child molestation at daycare centers swept the nation. But while that phenomenon was a moral panic attributable, at least in part, to social anxiety over white middle class women entering the work force en masse for the first time and entrusting their children to others, the current conspiracy theories about pedophile rings equate to similar propaganda. They carry a danger for stirring up violence. If you want to elicit violent action the way to do it is through hate and fear. Once you target and label a population as pedophiles, you can do anything you like to that population with full excuse being given to the myth you’ve wrapped around it. That’s not to say fears of child abuse or sex trafficking are unfounded. There are many as pedophilia has ancient roots and in many cases was encourage by many world cultures and religions a lot later into Civilization than we’d like to admit. The International Labor Organization reports that 25 percent of the world’s 40.3 million victims of human trafficking are children. The most vulnerable, according to the National Human Trafficking Hotline, are migrants, runaways, the homeless, and youngsters who have been victims of violence. Despite their obsession over the topic, conspiracy followers aren’t worked up about those children who are in true harm’s way. In the world of propaganda, it’s never about real children. Instead, it’s about what children represent. The children imperiled by conspiracy theories, in other words, are only metaphors. Children carry a vast amount of weight in any society, but especially modern ones when they’re expected to survive past the age of five. It wasn’t as intense before the 18th century when child mortality rates were really high. They represent the future, and all that is beautiful and decent and honest in a society, because they are innocent. For most people also, the meaning of their existence is rooted in their children. Children are eschatological, they represent death for us, and what is coming behind us after we are gone. They also represent the threat of loss, if they disappear, if they die, that is the death of society. That’s why they became so crucial and central to Cold War propaganda. The real terror of the nuclear holocaust would be the death of the children, because that’s the death of everyone. A recent example of this is in a recent police investigation into conspiracy claims of PizzaGate style accusation of Portland’s Voodoo Doughnuts. Detectives attempted to contact the person accusing Voodoo Doughnuts on social media of running a pedophile ring. The accuser did not cooperate with investigators and it’s been documented in other coverage online that they had become agitated and accused the Police with complicity when tracked down in person, even though they were attempting to investigate. The pendulum of conspiracy theories about systematic child abuse has swung back and forth for centuries. Examples such as blood libel, when Jewish communities were attacked over false allegations of murdering and consuming Christian children in the Middle Ages. In Europe, During the Thirty Years War, entire villages were put to the sword because it was believed they were abusing children of the other religions. One characteristic that helps Pizzagate-style conspiracy theories gain popularity is that they function like a puzzle game and give its audience a large level of involvement through social media. A lot of conspiracy theories are oracular, where the information comes from one source an oracle. Then there are others where there are a few people who promote the notions, almost like gurus or a conspiracy priesthood. But Pizzagate, it’s more of what one would call a participatory conspiracy theory. Participatory conspiracy theories lay out a scenario or situation and then they ask their audience, ‘what more can you find out about this, what more can you add?’ It turns the audience into willing participants, some knowing they are creating a destructive madlib and other (potential real victims) caking on mystical distraction to issues that have been unreported or scars that have not bee properly treated. The thing about participatory conspiracy theories is it can really create a devoted following because it gives people something to do, it makes them feel they can solve the whole thing or uncover new aspects to it. Once you get that energy going it’s almost self-sustaining. Followers of the Qanon conspiracy theory, call themselves “bakers” because their protagonist “Q” pops up on Internet message boards and leaves “crumbs” (i.e., clues), and they are tasked with picking up the crumbs in order to solve the puzzle. (“Q” is supposed to reference the character’s government security clearance level).
#Q followers believe an even more incoherent version of Pizzagate. This is largely a right-wing fantasy that originated in a series of incoherent posts on #4chan in 2017 by someone calling themselves #QAnon. Following on the heels of similar idiocy such as Pizzagate, it advances a fantastic web of deceit that wraps up Trumpism, deep state fearmongering, evil, satanic pedophilia rings controlled by the Democratic Party, investigations into Russian meddling in the 2016 US election, the Las Vegas shooting, and New World Order paranoia into a package easily and wholeheartedly promoted by internet cesspools and far-right personalities such as Alex Jones. The premise is that President Trump is secretly working to take down a global ring of elite, cannibalistic, satanic pedophiles. And the investigation into Russian meddling into the 2016 election, led by former FBI director Robert Mueller, is actually an investigation into the so-called “deep state”, where a cabal of evil, globalists, including Hillary Clinton and Barack Obama, are responsible for everything from a global pedophile ring to the mass shooting in Las Vegas in 2017. According to the enlightened, when Trump awkwardly took a drink from a bottle of Fiji water at a press conference in November 2017, it wasn’t because he was thirsty; it was actually a secret signal to those in the know that the annihilation of deep state pedophiles had begun (or was about to begin). Because as everyone knows, Fiji is a hot spot for child trafficking. ( I could go on and on with this poorly thought-out shit, I will spare you ) The role the Internet and social media play in helping to spread such insanity can’t be underestimated. Just a few decades earlier, conspiracy theorists would identify each other using letters to the editor printed in newspapers and magazines. It was a lot harder to identify your fellow conspiracy theorists. You would have to physically meet to swap your stories or send letters or call. They would set up these groups that would communicate by newsletter. They would meet in a physical space, like someone’s living room. I personally witnessed people from my childhood, dutifully photocopying newsletters they had received in the mail to give to others (Primarily at my #JW congregation, how ironic). Now obviously it can go much more quickly, because you can identity people immediately. You can quickly share ideas and the data you’ve collected. The Internet allows such people to exist in bubbles where they rarely have their beliefs challenged. The extraordinarily polarized society we’re in right now has made people less willing to seek out other view points. Because of the internet you have less chance of doing this. There’s very little incentive to look outside one’s own bubble once they have become invested in a conspiracy theory. Once you start to act out on those behaviors you are forced to double down by repeating the act to prove it was a just act. Eventually you get caught up in a movement that totally defines your conscious and you can’t get out of it. The second you step out of that world view your actions go back to being reprehensible. Now the question becomes, “What’s the harm? If it sheds light on child abuse, then isn’t it still productive?” The answer in this case is a resounding NO. In my opinion and PAINFUL experience, the root cause and sustaining factors of institutionalized child sex abuse are all things that would counter your typical Conspiracy Nut’s world view, thus causing a complete blackout to the problems. The entity taking part in the harming of children on a local and tangible level aren’t some suit and tie wearing global elitist. It’s a guidance counselor, youth pastor, unvetted young substitute teacher, aunt/uncle/cousin/neighbor. It’s anyone who has been given routine private access to a child’s mind and body because of the social conventions that have been protected for generations by our relatives whether they themselves are guilty of abuse or not. In all the Qanon madness I also kept very close tabs on the pending prosecution of the Boy scouts of America and never saw any widely shared memes about their involvement in the abuse syndicate. Why is this? How is this so? Aren’t these people watching the news, seeing the court records and hearing the individual cases being brought against Scout Leaders (SOME OF WHO RAN THEIR OWN NETWORKS!!)? When I would find mention of accusation it was met with the ever scarce “skepticism” because if the media is covering it, it must be a plot to destroy the organization. There are now non-for profit organizations setting up victim funds and protections for people to come out with their stories and somehow THIS is the fake ruse. Some that know me know that I was a Jehovah’s Witness as a youth/teen/young adult. That chapter of my life could fill many chapters and the research on the organization, the real true black and white history of the religion would honestly surprise you. I saw what I now know was abuse, I personally experienced abuse in many forms. The perpetrators involved are either still Witnesses or are dead or have moved “away from the organization”. But one thing that was left intact in each situation was the secret that they prey on children. The parents, these organizations and the collective promise to keep up appearances are directly to blame for the suffering untold thousands, millions of children and broken adults. All for what? Pride and Vanity and a commitment to all involved to protect them from the “mean old world” despite allowing predators to eat their children from within. Being a #JW was a very interesting experience. It provides a very efficient form of insulation from outside society and allows people involved to view the chaos from afar. There is this persistent (albeit false) sense of shared peace that members have. It’s as though for three days a week you go to this meeting where no matter what, everyone has a smile and feels about things EXACTLY how you do. There is no cursing, there are no politics, there surely isn’t any destructive influences that would tarnish your chances of salvation. For a parent this is a refuge when raising a child in a world that is dangerously unpredictable. A Child that you are unable (or unwilling) to teach coping skills to get along by societal standards, A child you want to protect by hiding. This is problem #1. As an adult the congregation presents an avenue for which you can act and behave in a way that allows you to reconcile your past, a way to have less of those nights awake because you think about past wrongs you’ve committed against people. It’s the proverbial band-aid for a guilty, bruised, destroyed conscious of any size. Coming into the organization takes nothing more than the desire to change, publicly declaring your willingness to hand over your life to God (The organization). Bam, You’re in! No credit check, no background check. This is problem #2. A JW is taught that “every facet is an asset” (Ministerial Servants know what I’m talking about). What this means is that every facet of your life is an asset to the organization to spread its word. If the world see’s their product’s application into your life and thereby how much better it is than a normal person’s, then they’ve made an “Effective Witness” to the world. This causes Witnesses of any age to allow almost every facet of their life to be a tool by the organization. For a parent this includes their children. This is problem #3 When you get a culture that insulates itself from the real world, that allows you to enter without any coherent vetting, give access to children whose parents feel obligated to present as a “witness” to the lifestyle. You get a twisted corridor in which victims can get lost for a lifetime and predators can hide in plain sight. For any proponents of the “Save-The-Children” movement to not take a step back and really analyze their local community and lifestyle through these lenses only illustrates that child abuse is being weaponized politically at the expense of others whom you aren’t willing to save because it would look bad for ‘your side’. If you truly care, you wouldn’t be sharing email forwards about what evil unverified unmentionable thing you read some celebrity or politician did. Instead, you’d be drawing back on your experiences as a child. Even if nothing happened directly to you, I’m sure you know some one that had an experience that forever harmed their life. Who did it? Was there a pattern or social condition that allowed for this as was laid out in the JW example? How could it have been avoided? Would you have stopped it if you saw the signs? Are you willing to stop it in the future, knowing what you know now? If you can answer any of those questions with a yes, then you have all you need to WRITE your own material to reach real victims and their families. Does your action cause problems for your ‘side’? It shouldn’t matter and you know that. If it does make a difference to you then you are no better than the shadowy pedophilic cabal that you are so obsessed with.

The Update has many good changes for the game, but the new speed for sabotaging is none of it in my opinion.
Every Event Toolbox and the Commodius Toolbox become basically what Alex's Toolbox is now + the bonus of the repair speed, which means they are more flexible (which is good). But the Alex's Toolbox is simply too fast. It has now a time of 1.5 seconds by default if I'm not wrong with my math (feel free to correct me on that) and is at base even faster than now with "Cutting Wire" and "Hacksaw" both equipped, slap the "Scraps" on it and you have 26 charges to sabo 4 Hooks with it.
In my opinion the speed of the Alex's Toolbox was already at a good fine line with the speed addons, but cranking the number up to +100% sabo speed is just overkill. I also don't like the increase of the "Grip Wrench".
It will undoubtedly make playing against "Sabo-Squads" more frustrating, and even as Solo Queue Survivor you will have to deal with more slugging if you're gonna paired with a 3 man Sabo Team.
I would leave the Alex's Toolbox at +50% Sabo Speed and give the Commodius/Event Toolboxes a +25-35% increase in sabo speed.
tl;dr
I think the new fastest sabo speed is too quick and will lead to unfun gameplay on both side.

My wife and I made our annual Hersheypark visit this past Saturday to celebrate our 5th wedding anniversary. Hershey, the park and the town in general, have become a very special place to us, and we wanted to spend the weekend in town. We stopped out at the park Friday night for an hour during the preview, but we just walked around due to the rain. Still fun to see everything.
Saturday, the forecast changed drastically, as it was supposed to rain all day, until about Thursday, when it changed to being mostly cloudy until the evening, so the park ended up being pretty packed, and we had a really nice period of blue skies and sunshine. We bought Fast Track Unlimited so that we could make the most out of our day at the park, and it turned out to be a great investment, as most rides had at least an hour long wait. After arriving at around 12:30, we rode 9 rides by 6:00, when they started to shut things down due to the rain moving in.
Candymonium (x2) - Honestly, I have no idea why this ride gets so much criticism. I always hear that it's because of the trims and the short layout. But honestly, it doesn't matter, because Candy is such a great ride! We had 2 rides, both in the back row of the Twizzlers train, and it was awesome. The first drop deserves more recognition, because you are floating from the second you drop, until you reach the valley between the two hills. It gives such great floater air throughout, and the banked drop after the first helix (my favorite element on the ride) is so much fun.
Skyrush - So, the big news maker of the offseason. I love Skyrush! I liked the old restraints, and I didn't find them uncomfortable, but I understand why a lot of people had complaints. First off, the new station, with the lighting and sound effects, is great. They did a fantastic job. That lift never gets old. It's such a thrill being yanked from the station to the crest of the lift hill so fast, and that first drop is just absolutely bonkers. There are 2 things that I noticed. 1.) The ride seems a lot more rattly this year. It's not unpleasant, and it didn't make me enjoy the ride less. It's just very, very noticeable. 2.) The new restraints take away a lot of the intensity. The laterals are a lot more muted, and the overall insanity seems a lot more scaled back, which is a shame. I still love it, it's such a crazy ride, but it did drop slightly in my rankings.
Fahrenheit - Why doesn't this ride get talked about more? It's such a good ride, but it gets lost in a very, very stacked coaster lineup. That lift is a cool experience, the drop gives great airtime, and the inversions, though they are right after one another, don't feel like they're too much too quick. It was flying through the course on Saturday (which Fahrenheit isn't the only coaster that was doing that Saturday). It's so good, and deserves a lot more love.
Great Bear - My shocker of the weekend. I love Great Bear, it's my second favorite invert, but WOW was it moving on Saturday. This was probably the best ride I've had on it. I accidentally took one of the plus sized seats, and didn't realize it until I fastened the belts, and there was a lot of room, and it made a huge difference. The pre-drop is so good, and when it's flying through that helix, oh man. I had no idea where we were on the course because it was just hauling. I was getting crazy hangtime, and the head banging was almost non-existent. Just a fantastic ride!
SooperDooperLooper - First, I want to say that Hersheypark's app was way off on the wait time. It was reading a 1 hour 15 minute wait, and when we got in the Fast Track line, which you don't skip a whole lot of the standby line for this one, there weren't a whole lot of people behind us, and we waited about 10-15 minutes. It was probably more of a 30 minute wait than 75. Anyhow, Looper is great. For being in its 50s, with a perfectly round loop, it is so smooth, and so fun. Always a great time riding Looper!
Wildcat's Revenge (x2) - Where to begin? I rode WR once last year and loved it, but ranked it behind Skyrush, but didn't ride both of them last year. I rode this twice by myself, once in row 7, once in row 10. If there's a tier above elite, Wildcat's Revenge belongs there. This ride is so out of its mind insane, it's unbelievable. Absolutely relentless from the time you leave the station until you pull into the brake run. I love how it varies from airtime to inversion to airtime to inversion, and so one, so that it's giving you something different instead of repeating the same thing over and over. This thing hauls, and the pacing is phenomenal. I love when you get to the middle of the ride, and everything happens so quickly. It has a completely out of control feel to it. The station is a vibe, the ops are quick. This is a perfect ride, and it jumped Skyrush in my rankings.
We also grabbed a late ride on the Monorail in the rain before heading to The Chocolatier for dinner. The ops were hit or miss. The ones on Fahrenheit and Wildcat's Revenge were flying. Skyrush and Candymonium were stacking big time. Didn't get on Storm Runner because it was running one train with a listed wait of 45 minutes, but I overheard a few kids say that they were waiting for their friends, and they were still in line over an hour and a half later, and Fast Track doesn't skip much of the line on Storm Runner. While watching it while waiting for my wife to get off Remix, the dispatches were probably about 5 minutes.
Overall, it was a outstanding trip to our favorite park! The rides were running extremely well, and it was a great way to celebrate our anniversary, Hersheypark Happily!

You read that right- my (22F) husband (22M) and I have been married for 3 years now. To sum it up, we were both young, dumb, and going to enlist in the military to get out of our small town so we eloped to the courthouse. We were both gonna keep it a secret at first and reap the benefits from the military, see how our relationship went, and go from there.
Ended up not enlisting in the military so I told my parents we eloped a few months after. He never told his parents and I’ve been asking him to tell them. They didn’t have a good relationship when we got married and that is why he didn’t tell them. I gave him an ultimatum this past week that he has to tell them by the end of the week or I’m divorcing him because he’s crossing a boundary I have discussed with him multiple times over the past year. I am uncomfortable with them not knowing and I honestly feel like he’s not mature enough to be in a marriage if he can’t man up to tell them. He said he’s scared to hurt them and I countered that he needs to get it over with, that he’s also hurting me. His parents love me by the way and I’m ve been tempted to tell them myself but he always stops me.
Well, I gave him the ultimatum and he immediately became defensive, told me that if I didn’t want to be married to him that he would return the wedding set he just upgraded for me. He told me I was being an AH for pressuring him when he wasn’t ready. I told him that I wasn’t saying that at all, I’m just tired of him not being an adult which makes me question our relationship. I love him but it’s screaming red flags and I know I’m young enough that it won’t ruin my life if we divorce. My parents have a big issue with him keeping it a secret too and have brought it up to him. The reason I haven’t already went home is because I live on the other side of the country away from both of our families and we have pets. However, he knows if he does not tell them by this Sunday that I will be making plans to move once my summer semester ends.
So, AITAH for threatening to divorce my husband because he won’t tell his parents we are married?

I (28m) met an older woman (37f) on a dating app around two months ago. I had no reason to believe she was married up until two weeks ago.
Let’s call my ex girlfriend “Sandy.”
Things progressed normally. We chatted casually for a few days. Impulsively met up for drinks. One date later, and Sandy spent the night at my place. Since then, we’ve grown super close to the point of seeing each other or FaceTimeing for hours every day.
Sandy has a daughter and responsibilities, so obviously there were days where we spoke a little less. There’s days I’m busy too. I never thought twice about her whereabouts. Turns out that the days Sandy was quiet were the days her wife had off of work. On top of that, we spent almost all of our time at my place, or out, which was fine. I began to feel it was off that I literally never saw her home. Sandy shied away from bringing me there, and I kind of let it go because of her daughter. It’s her space. I gave her very little pressure.
I brought it up one day, gently.
I simply asked, “You know I’ve only ever seen your house on FaceTime?” It was lighthearted pillow talk.
Sandy made some flirty comment about how she’s “maybe hiding a big secret.”
The way Sandy said it was off, but I tried not to read into it.
Two weeks ago, she invited me over and I could tell that she was clearly uncomfortable the entire time. Admittedly, she did a good job at hiding any sign that a third person lived there, besides Sandy and her daughter. Still, I had a hard time getting comfortable with her acting so stiff and nervous.
I left, and for a week, the relationship was strained for no identifiable reason.
I decided to do some cyber stalking. I’d never thoroughly gone through her instagram. Sure enough, in her tagged photos was Sandy, her wife, and her daughter. The photo was tagged two months ago.
At first Sandy lied to me and told me she was estranged from her wife but didn’t know how to tell me. I called bullshit and she finally admitted that she was cheating, and hoping for a better situation.
We talked about what she meant by “a better situation” and she simply means she no longer thinks she’s a lesbian but she doesn’t know how to get out of it.
Obviously things are over between us. Part of me wants to just lay low, and part of me wants to tell this poor naive person that she’s being cheated on. Her wife deserves better. Her wife deserves to know at a minimum, right?
Would I be the asshole if I tell my ex girlfriend’s wife about my ex’s infidelity?