Sneaking into supposedly haunted building late at night always sounded like a laugh, but I don't think so anymore.

My town has this old mill. There used to be a lot of farmland around here, and the mill was practically the lifeblood of the town. You wouldn't know it to look at the place now. The soil surrounding us for a good couple of miles out is dry as bone with nothing growing out of it, and the mill looks like it's falling apart. Which apparently it has been since even before it closed down a few decades ago since a series of accidents is said to have been what finally pulled the plug on the old place—accidents where people died.

Which is where all the ghost stories come from, which in turn are what led to my late-night venture into a building that looked like it would fall on top of me any moment if I brushed the wrong bit of wall. It was dumb, and the one or two friends I'd told of my plan thought I was going to get myself killed. In hindsight, they were right. But then, hindsight is 20/20, right?

The door was easy enough to force. I had the torch function on my mobile phone switched on, and I saw that the wooden door was barely there anymore. Once it was open, I was hit by a cloud of dust so thick that I nearly choked on it. I couldn't believe I was the first one to try exploring the mill since it closed down, but that's what the air was telling me as I stepped inside.

Most of it was wood just like the outside. Decades-old wooden pillars held up the ceiling, above which had to be more machinery like what I saw in this downstairs room. I won't pretend to know what any of it does, but it was rusted with age and far past its ability to perform its function. It looked heavy, though, and I immediately feared the prospect of the ceiling crashing down upon me. But, I reasoned, if it were going to do that, this place would have collapsed years ago, wouldn't it?

The thought calmed me slightly but not much. After all, it would have to fall eventually.

I was about to climb the stairs, satisfied that nothing was left to see on the ground floor, when the whisper reached me.

"Help."

I spun around, startled, to see absolutely nobody. The room was still as empty as it had been when I broke the door open. My heart raced in my chest from the start the voice had given me. "Is that someone mucking about?" I asked.

There was no answer.

I took some slow, deep breaths to calm myself down. Just my mind playing tricks on me, I thought. This place being spooky is the whole reason you came here.

Satisfied that I was alone and that the voice had been nothing more than an illusion produced by my own mind's reaction to the darkness around me, I continued on up the stairs. Each one creaked as I planted a foot upon it, and I had visions of the flimsy wood breaking beneath my weight. At least I wouldn't have far to fall.

I was right about there being more machinery on the floor above, although I still couldn't tell you what any of it was for. Well, I knew logically that it was for the process of making grain, but you know what I mean. I pointed the torch at it and saw that it was just as rusty as what was downstairs. I sighed. Nothing here but rust and dust. Not that I was expecting to find any ghosts or anything, but I was hoping for something marginally more interesting than old machinery and drifting flakes of crumbling wood.

One of the shadows to my left moved, and I bloody near toppled onto my ass, yelling.

My heart hammered away its rhythm at a quickened pace, and I pointed my light toward the area of the movement. Nothing. Just more old wood.

I was alone, but I was certain that something had moved in here.

"First your ears, now your eyes," I said to myself shakily, trying to make a joke of it. "This dark's making you lose your marbles. You're the only one here."

Only ... I found that I didn't believe that anymore.

I can't tell you what it was, but I just had an overwhelming feeling that I was no longer alone. I felt like a deer in a clearing who's just begun to suspect a tiger is watching me from the bushes. I could feel my legs tensing, preparing myself to run for the stairs.

I stood there for what felt like an hour but was in actuality only a couple of minutes. I breathed to calm myself down again and decided that I really wasn't in the right headspace for this. I was too nervous. Too ... scared. Prey instincts I didn't even know I had were kicking in, and that couldn't be healthy. I decided to leave.

I walked down the stairs, each step toward the front door coming as a relief.

Then I saw it.

A door. A door I knew hadn't been there when I'd entered the building. I remember sweeping my torch all over the room, and at no point had I seen that door in its light.

"Down here. Help."

It was the same voice as before, whispering in my ear so closely that I should have felt their breath on my lobe. But I felt nothing of the sort. A chill ran up my spine. Fuck this, I thought, and turned to charge at the exit.

It was gone.

Where once there was the front door, which I had broken open to gain entry in the first place, there was now only more wooden wall.

I could bring myself to do nothing but stand and stare for a few minutes. It wasn't possible. The door was there, I knew it was! How could it be gone? What was happening? A scream of primal fear ripped its way out of my throat, and I charged at the wooden wall. The wood was flimsy-looking and rotted and should have broken easily, but with every punch I succeeded only in making my fists ache, and with every kick all I made was noise. Noise which reached nobody but myself.

Tears of terror and frustration ran down my cheeks in rivers, and I bit my hand to keep from loudly sobbing. I was trapped.

My legs buckled beneath me as the truth of my situation finally became clear, and I sat on the dusty wooden floors, my back against the infuriatingly sturdy wooden wall, and I held my head in my hand. What do I do?

I must have sat there for hours.

The sun didn't rise. No light peaked in through the gaps between the wood planks.

"Help," the voice came again. This time it was no whisper, but a call from beyond the new door. "Down here. Help."

Well ... what else could I do but listen?

I stood up on shaky legs, bracing myself against the wall until I was sure I could stand unaided. Then I made my way over to the new door and gently pushed it open. It made a long, high-pitched creaking noise as it opened to reveal a second staircase—one that led down.

I didn't want to go down. I wanted to leave, but I couldn't. My only other option was to sit and wait for something to happen, and I thought that might drive me mad.

I went down the stairs.

Unlike the ones upstairs, these steps didn't creak as I stepped on them. In fact, my footfalls made no sound at all, which if anything was even more unsettling.

Yet that was not the most terrifying part. The part that scared me most, the part that got my heart racing so badly that I thought it'd beat its way right out of my chest, was the way the stairs just didn't end.

I must have been walking down them for a good ten minutes before the thought occurred to me. My first instinct was to run around and run back up, but somehow I knew that if I did that, I would be running up forever just as I'd be walking down forever. Maybe I was wrong, but I don't think I was.

"Keep going," the voice said, whispering from right by my ear once again. "Come down."

I could see it now, whatever was speaking to me. Only not really. I didn't see what it looked like, but I saw it there, out of the corner of my eye, walking right next to me on the stairs somehow without ever touching me. Just a dark shape that only superficially resembled a human body—and too many eyes to count, all of them glowing a dull yellow, each one blinking periodically. Its entire body covered in them.

I sped up my descent down the stairs. I knew I wouldn't find an end, but I had to get away from whatever it was that was with me. That deeply-buried prey instinct rose in me again, this time to the point of damn near screaming at me to run, run away because the predator was here.

But I couldn't get away.

No matter how much I picked up speed, it was always there, right by me.

"Yes, yes!" it cried in pleasure. There was a sort of slurping sound. "Just like that! Such delicious terror!"

I screamed.

It laughed.

And suddenly, I understood.

It was eating me, not in body but in soul. With every second of fear, I could feel myself growing weaker. I felt thinner, less substantial. At some point, I knew, I would stop existing.

I was scared, and that only fed it more of me.

But then I realised something else: there were no walls around the staircase. Just a great expanse of darkness beyond the splintered wooden bannisters on either side.

I had a way out.

I stopped running down the stairs, turned, and gripped the bannister. Without so much as thinking about the height, I launched myself over the edge.

There was a roar of pure rage loud enough to still be ringing in my eardrums now.

Then a blinding light.

It was the sun.

I sat up, and I was outside the mill again. The warmth of the sun felt glorious, and I've never been happier to find myself lying in the grass where all the bugs could crawl all over me.

I think I know why the land around our town died.

I'm moving soon. I've told everyone else they should do the same, but they aren't listening to me. I hope they come to their senses before it's too late.

Because whatever is living in the mill is hungry.

How long will it take to leave its habitat and feast properly?

I can already hear that voice again.

Back in 2022 I left home for good, was very happy about it, I'm sharing an apartment with two more people, last year when my ex moved out, this girl moved in his place.
She was bad news from day one, I have an elderly cat, she has an elderly dog, I asked her to please introduce the dog to my cat prior to moving in, she didn't even reply. The dog is thankfully chill enough, but my cat has been a lot less active ever since he moved in, every time her mother takes the dog for a few days my cat instantly goes back to her happy, active self.
She also leaves the dog alone for a lot of hours on end, she forbids the poor thing to go in her room, so he's always in the living room, hence why my cat avoids the largest room in the house. Just now, poor dog was scratching her door because it's past noon and he desperately needs to go outside and pee, she scolded him and went back to sleep, she does this every day. When she finally wakes up, she will take her sweet time having breakfast, choosing a fancy outfit so she can walk the dog for 15 short minutes. He's completely untrained and from what I saw at the dog park that's in front of our building, she practically forbids her dog from playing and socializing with other dogs. She barely pays attention to him at all.
This irks me more than usual because my mom also had dogs that she neglected and mistreated. Just like with my mom's situation, I'm forbidden to walk the dog myself and any sort of suggestion would escalate into an argument.
She has never once cleaned the house in the 10 months she's been living here, only her room, she also doesn't work, she had a part time job for two months I think, and quit because working 25 hours a week was "too much" according to her, I think she basically lives off her parents. All she does is sit in the couch all day, collecting dirty dishes she rarely washes.
The kitchen is perpetually dirty, there's never clean dishes, nor pots, pans or silverware, I always wash after myself, or at least I put my dirty dishes in the dishwasher, but neither she or the other roommate, who is the owner by the way, even bother loading the freaking dishwasher. I left for a business trip last Friday and came back yesterday to a garbage smelling house and they still didn't load the dishwasher.
The owner is also a slob, so they both act weird whenever I complain about how dirty everything is. But that's the extent of my problems with the other owner, otherwise she's very nice and we bonded a lot overtime.
The other girl also loves using my stuff without permission, it's such a frequent thing that I don't even bother trying anymore, I don't have space in my room for kitchenware and appliances because a lifetime of things is already cramming up my room. So I have to deal with a perpetually greasy airfryer that was a gift from friends and thus holds sentimental value to me. She broke several cups and glasses and refuses to buy me new ones. If I don't hide my stuff, she basically uses everything she sees without ever asking who owns it or if it's okay for her to use, most of the time it's not. I will 100% have to barge into her room and look for my property before moving out, because I'm certain I will find things I own in there.
She also takes up my bathroom counters and fridge space deliberately, the house is basically covered with her stuff and she complains whenever we leave something in the living room.
She's mean to my friends and makes it very clear that they're unwelcome here, I kind of refrained from inviting people home or we basically lock ourselves up in my room all the time they're here. She's also banged my bedroom wall while I was having intercourse, and no, we were not being even remotely loud, mainly rushed breath noises, not even moaning.
Friday I had no time to clean the airfryer so I left if with some chicken grease because, well, its mine and I am within my right to do so, right? Well not according to her. She texted me a picture of the dirty airfryer and told me it was unacceptable to leave it in that state. I was enraged, I told her I would clean it when I got back and told her not to touch it, she said she would "use a paper towel from time to time from now on". I can't make this sh*t up.
This last incident is largely what made me want to write this post. It made me realize how horrible this whole situation is for my mental health. I mean, I have to deal with a house full of dirty stuff and rotting food, but it's not acceptable for me to use my own airfryer and not clean it afterwards? Even when she never asked for permission to use it in the first place?
I am isolated in my room all day long, don't even want to cook anymore because everything takes extra 30 minutes to clean, I also lose my appetite every time I enter the kitchen. I've got some health issues related to poor nutrition because of all this. I am back to the same situation as when I was living with my abusive family, only then I could at least let some steam off because I could argue with my mother, it was also a beautiful countryside house that was clean and I loved my yard. Now I have nothing. I feel observed, judged and manipulated 24/7.
I am probably moving out in less than a month at best, a month and a half at worst, so there's a light at the end of the tunnel. Some of my younger friends still in college and I are going to move in together, we've discussed in length house rules and etc and it seems like we're all on board. I truly hope everything goes well, or at least that I'll have a short break from all this. At least I know my friends aren't manipulative like her.
I'm sorry for this incoherent vent, today I just broke down. I feel impotent and miserable.

He's been in a relationship with me for almost 2 years now. We have our ups and downs because of him still getting over the trauma of his ex girlfriend (who he dated for 2 years. I dated him around a year and a half after he left her) and were do our best to talk things out. I find it hard sometimes, trying to talk things out with him. Sometimes it's like I can only see one right answer and he only sees the other one as right. And I understand that we can't always agree but when our disagreements turn into hour long silent treatments, it gets tiring . The other day I went to go see him at his job, I wore a tank top, sweatpants and a jacket that wasn't zipped cause it was really hot out and I didn't want to take off my hoodie cause I was too insecure to take it off in public so I just let myself breathe while I visited him. I had bought him a spray from the store he asked me to get and he told me he didn't have a lot of time to talk to me because of his new boss and he didn't want to get in trouble. I understood and tried to just give him the spray and leave but a coworker said he was chill and just go ahead so I went up to him to ask him where he wants me to put it and he tells me to "zip up"" ive never heard him ask me to zip up before, I've seen him fix a bra strap, or fix a shoulder strap that fell but "zip up?" Was... different. He ended up just walking away from me again while i stood there baffled.I just ended up putting his spray in a cubby and left with him saying ""bye i guess" and I just told him "bye" When I got home he had texted me "just like that?" I told him that we'd talk about it when he gets home but he never wanted to talk about it. He didn't even want to talk to me that night. A few nights later and I apologize, I told him that I was sorry for just leaving like that but I was stressed out and worried cause of your boss and I felt rushed then you told me to zip up and it frustrated me because I'm wearing a tank top, witth a built in bra, it wasnt like I was showing anything so I got mad at just left. He explained that he told me as a man, he knows how a man's perspective is and they're gonna look at anything. I asked him if he looks at anyone else like that and he said no but he knows women are wearing more revealing clothing now. She then said that a man will look at anything, big fat small or skinny they'll look and so I asked him why does what a man look at, affect how I dress? He just said nvm and to wear what i want and I feel like I shouldn't be conflicted like this. I feel as a woman I shouldn't have to be worried about other men looking at me because ik other men look. I don't care. I'm a woman. It's gonna happen and it socks but what can I do? Sorry for the yap. I just feel like I'm going crazy thinking that every little thing I think is normal and healthy is insane and absurd.
Ps: I want advice. I want help. I want us to work I want us to talk things out and it's hard to. But I want us to work. Thank you and I appreciate your time

"A family is left in mourning as twenty-one-year-old Natalie Rose was found dead over the weekend," the TV blared into the room, "seemingly attacked by some sort of wild animal as she sat in her tent on what was meant to be a relaxing camping trip alone. Natalie's parents have requested privacy at this time, but they appreciate the condolences they have received. In other news-" Roman grabbed the remote from me and shut off the TV.
"Hey, I was watching that!" I said as I flipped him off from across the room. "Bullshit, you're on your phone," he chuckled, fixing his hair up in the mirror. "Okay, well, I was listening. I like to have background noise, dickhead," I replied, watching him in the reflection, his focus clearly not on this important conversation.
"Where are you going all dressed up?" I interrogated him. "Morgan and I are having our engagement party, but we've got to be there early to sort out seating."
"You're having your engagement party and you didn't invite your own brother?" I questioned him, offended at the audacity this man had. "I did invite you, dipshit. You told me you had a date with Katie tonight."
The realisation hit me like a punch to the gut. I'd completely forgotten about my movie date with Katie. With a surge of panic, I leaped from my seat, heart pounding, and scrambled to get dressed. Every second felt like an eternity as I cursed my forgetfulness. Then, I heard Roman's car start outside. Without a second thought, I sprinted out the door and down the driveway. Knocking on his window, I pleaded for a ride.
The soft hum of the road and the whirring of the engine filled the car as we silently moved through the night. Staring out the window at the blur of trees, I thought about how I would apologise to Katie. Roman reached for the radio, and a Trace Adkins song began playing. Seeing this as the perfect time to start a conversation, I spoke up, "So, are Katie and I coming to the wedding?" I asked, grinning. Roman let out a deep sigh as he turned off the music. "If Katie doesn't plan a date night on the same day, then yes," he replied.
Silence filled the car as we drove along the empty road. The vast woods surrounding us created an eerie atmosphere, intensified by the winter darkness cloaking the night sky above. Yet, for Roman and me, who had grown up in this land, these woods evoked nostalgic memories of our childhood adventures. While for others, it might be an unsettling glimpse into the barrier separating civilization from the unknown, for us, it was a comforting window back into our past.
When Roman bought the land we had grown up on after our parents passed, I was probably more excited than I should've been, considering I had just lost my mum and dad in a tragic carbon monoxide leak. But my relief at not having to leave this place was immense.
We eventually reached an area where the city lights were visible in the distance. I noticed Roman yawn as he adjusted his grip on the wheel. "You're gonna have to tell me where to go, I can't remember where Katie lives," he stated as he changed gears and prepared to enter the busy traffic, a stark contrast to the remote rural road we were about to vacate.
“Just take a left up h-" I began, but was interrupted as a white blur ran in front of the car, causing Roman to slam on the brakes and swerve. I grabbed onto the side of the door as we spun out of control, the screeching of the tires filling my ears, jolting me out of the relaxed state I had been in due to the many miles of quiet driving.
We eventually came to a stop, now facing the opposite direction, gazing down the endless stretch of desolate road we had just traversed. Roman calmly checked all his mirrors for whatever he nearly hit but failed to see anything through the dust he had stirred up in the spinout.
“You all good?” he asked, a relieved smile creeping up his face, a deep breath escaping his lungs.
“Yeah, what was that?” I asked as Roman started reversing, then turned the car back towards the busy city street about a kilometre away and began driving. I looked over to him, expecting an answer to my question, but didn't receive one. His brow was furrowed in an uncertain expression, clearly lost in thought, like he was trying to remember if he locked the front door.
“Roman?” I said, causing him to blink a couple of times.
“I don't know what it was," Roman answered, not breaking his intense stare at the asphalt in front of us as we drove along, approaching the main road. “Probably just a sheep, there's a few acres of farmland behind these trees,” he continued.
As we approached the intersection, Roman flicked his left indicator on before turning onto the main road. “Okay, now take the next right,” I said, feeling the weird atmosphere in the vehicle slowly dissipating. After a few more turns, Roman said that he knew the way from here and turned the radio back on, which cut the remaining tension that I could tell we were both feeling.
The chilly winter night was starting to bite at my skin, and I cursed myself for forgetting a jacket in my hurry. I swivelled my head around to see the backseat. “What are you looking for?” Roman asked, finally looking in my direction as he turned the music down slightly.
“Uh, do you have a jacket I can borrow? I didn't realise it was gonna be this cold,” I sheepishly admitted.
“Hold the wheel,” Roman told me as he reached around behind him, shifting around his hiking gear that he hadn't taken out since his camping trip with Morgan last month.
Eventually, he pulled out his gym hoodie and threw it on my lap. “This is all I got,” he grunted as he readjusted himself in his seat and took hold of the steering wheel again. When we pulled into Katie's driveway, I pulled the hoodie over my head and hopped out of the car into the brisk night air, my breath visible in the cold. “I'll pick you up around 11:30.” Roman shouted out the window as I pulled the hoodie the rest of the way down and waved to Roman as he drove away, beeping his horn as he left me in the chilling winter breeze.
I knocked on the door, checking the time to see that it was 7:37, only a few minutes late. As I waited in the dark, a surprisingly chipper Katie opened the door, hugging me and dragging me inside. “You didn't miss much,” she whispered as we stumbled through the house that had all of its lights off. “Why do you smell like your brother?” she asked, shooting me a dirty look before grabbing a handful of the hoodie and sniffing it. All I could do was shrug and grin, “I forgot how cold it gets in the winter time, he let me borrow it.” She rolled her eyes, and we sat down next to a bunch of her friends and her parents, who all whispered their hellos in the soft glow of the TV.
Around 11:18 pm when the movie was long since finished, Katie's parents said goodnight and headed off to bed, and a few of Katie's friends who had been visiting said goodbye and drove home. I got up to get some water from the kitchen, and as I walked back, I stood in the doorway that separated the kitchen from the living room, which was dark, only lit by the TV. This allowed me to see Katie frozen, staring towards the window, which was out of my direct line of sight.
Confused, I peeked my head out of the doorway and looked toward the window. I froze and dropped my glass; luckily, it landed on the carpet and didn't make much noise, and the tall, pale creature standing an inch from the window didn't notice. The creature was foul, a gaunt, lanky humanoid. Well, at least the head was humanoid; the body and limbs were almost ape-like, with long, disproportionate arms and less exaggerated legs. The creature's whole body was covered in grey skin stretched tightly over its abnormally long bones. It had no hair anywhere. Its mouth was strangely wide, stretching around to where its ears would be if it had them, and its eyes were just sunken, inky black pits in its head. But I could tell it was staring daggers at Katie, who had tears rolling down her face. She slowly turned her head to look at me, shaking and breathing quickly. I had never felt so powerless. I was supposed to protect her, and I would. I would die to protect her, but I had no idea how to shield her from whatever this thing was.
Then I had an idea. I looked to the light switch panel to my left. I knew one of them was the porch light, but there were three others: the living room light, the kitchen light, and the hall light. If I pressed the wrong light, I didn't know what the thing would do, but I had to try. I had to remember which light Katie's dad used to turn the porch light on when he goes out for a smoke.
I reached for the light second from the bottom and flicked the switch. The hall light turned on. Luckily, the hall was on the opposite side of the kitchen from where the living room was, and it was out of view for the creature at the window. But I couldn't mess up again. If the kitchen light turned on, the creature would see me, and if the living room light turned on, it might cause it to attack Katie. I looked back at the creature, which was using one of its hands to scratch the window as it sniffed around. I had to do something.
I reached for the bottom light switch and flicked it; the porch light turned on. The creature spun around to face it and let out a screech that will haunt my nightmares for the rest of my life. I ran to Katie and grabbed her, dragging her off the side of the couch where there was about a metre gap between the armrest of the couch and the wall.
The sound of the window smashing filled the house, and Katie cried into my shoulder. I couldn't see anything; it was pitch darkness besides the slight blue glare from the TV on the wall above us. But I could hear raspy breathing and bones cracking as the thing searched the living room. I heard it sniffing the couch where Katie was sitting, and I heard it make its way closer to the end of the couch, one of its hands pressed on the wall above us. I saw the silhouette of its head begin to peak over the side of the couch, but suddenly the light turned on, and Katie's dad yelled as he saw us from the kitchen while he was holding a shotgun.
The creature ran at him but fell to the ground as a loud shot rang out in the night, leaving only the sound of our combined breathing and Katie's soft sobs. I watched intently as the body lying between Katie's dad and me moved around on the floor, before slamming its hand down, then the other, and pushing itself to its feet.
Katie's dad reloaded his shotgun, but it was too late. The creature grabbed the poor man by his leg and pulled it out from under him, causing him to shoot the ceiling. I grabbed Katie and dragged her upstairs as the creature began tearing into her father. She cried and screamed, begging me to help him, but what could I do? Whatever that thing was, it just took a shotgun blast to the chest and brushed it off.
I locked us in her upstairs bathroom as the creature's loud and hurried footsteps made their way towards us. Katie was crying loudly now, insisting that we were going to die. Honestly, not a super helpful contribution, but I can't blame her.
As the creature began crashing against the door, pieces of wood started to splinter off. I shoved Katie into the tub, and then lay on top of her. Hopefully, my body would be enough to shield her from this thing. Time slowed down as the door exploded inward. I looked at the girl I loved, makeup running down her face, pieces of door in her hair, mouth wide open as she let out the most ear splitting scream. For some reason, I felt no fear. Even as the monster began tearing at my clothes and clawing at my flesh, I felt strangely calm.
Eventually, the creature grabbed me, swinging me around by my hoodie, slamming me into every wall and surface in the room. I fell to the ground as the hoodie ripped off, and the creature just stared at me, then the hoodie in its hand, then back at me. I stared back, utterly confused, as it leaned over and sniffed my entire body from head to toe. It looked as puzzled as I felt for a moment before I heard Roman's car pull up outside.
The creature screeched as it sprinted out the door, slamming into the hallway wall in its haste. "NO!" I shouted, leaving my still-shaking girlfriend in the tub as I chased the monster out of the house. Somehow, I caught up to the creature and grabbed onto it, bringing it to the ground below. The thing managed to get on top of me, biting and clawing at my arms and hands as I shielded my face.
Before I knew it, Roman came out of nowhere, tackling the creature off me, yelling for me to run. The creature, sleek and deadly, wasted no time in retaliating against Roman's attack. With a primal growl, it lunged at him, its claws slicing through the air like daggers.
Roman had a size advantage that I didn't have, and managed to hold his own for a few seconds as he wrestled with the beast. He'd always been as strong as a bull for as long as I can remember, tall with powerful hands and massive arms and shoulders. But I couldn't risk watching my brother, as strong as he may be, get killed by this… whatever it is.
With strength I didn't know I had, I grabbed the back of Roman's expensive shirt and pulled him out of the way of a fatal blow to the head, throwing him towards the car before I lunged at the creature and went feral. I don't know what came over me; I started swinging on the creature as we tumbled around in the muddy grass. Just when I thought I was actually winning, the creature managed to get its legs between us and kicked me off, then swung its clawed hand at my stomach, ripping it right open.
I collapsed to the ground as my body tried to comprehend what had just happened. My eyes narrowed as everything was drowned out. I watched the silent scene play out before me, my heartbeat pounding in my head.
The creature charged at Roman, who leaped to grab his car's back door handle just as the creature snagged his foot. It yanked at his leg, but Roman clung onto his car door tightly. The creature persisted in pulling as Roman struggled to reach for something in his hiking gear stored in the back seat.
With an agonising yell, Roman's leg gave a sickening snap. Despite the pain, he finally retrieved what he was searching for. Releasing the car door, Roman watched as the creature stumbled backward. Seizing the opportunity, he swiftly climbed on top of it, brandishing his trusty hunting knife from his camping trips.
As Roman wrestled with the creature, the air was filled with grunts and snarls. He plunged the hunting knife into the creature's body, eliciting a guttural howl of pain. The creature thrashed wildly, but Roman held on grimly, his determination unwavering.
With each strike, Roman's movements became more frenzied, fueled by adrenaline and the need to protect us. The creature's attempts to retaliate grew weaker as Roman's blows found their mark. With a final decisive thrust, Roman delivered the fatal blow, and the creature slumped to the ground, defeated.
Breathing heavily, Roman collapsed beside the creature, his body trembling with exhaustion and relief. I rushed to his side, concern evident in my voice. "Natalie-" he faintly murmured.
"Who? Who's Natalie?" I asked, my confusion growing.
Suddenly, the creature jolted up, its movements abrupt and startling. Without warning, it lunged at me, seizing me by the throat and hurling me against the car.
The last thing I saw before I blacked out was the creature sprinting towards me. In that moment, I felt a strange sensation coursing through my body, as if something within me was shifting. I glanced down at my hands and watched in horror as they contorted and turned a sickly shade of grey. Long claws protruded from my fingers, their sharp edges glinting in the dim light.
As my bones cracked and deformed under the strain of this inexplicable transformation, a sudden surge of anger and ferocity overwhelmed my senses. It was as though a primal instinct had taken hold of me, consuming my entire being in its relentless grip. With each passing moment, the world around me faded into darkness until finally, I lost consciousness, my mind consumed by the terrifying reality of what I had become.
I awoke hours later in the back seat of Roman's car. The hum of the road and the whirring of the engine attempted to lull me back to sleep, but I sat up, rubbing my head as the memories flooded back. "What happened?" I asked, my voice hoarse and strained.
Roman responded with silence, a familiar reaction from him, but this time, it sent a shiver down my spine. As I looked at my arms, then my stomach, and felt around my whole body, I realised the wounds and deep gashes caused by the creature were all gone, as if I had never been attacked.
I caught Roman's gaze in the mirror, but he quickly averted his eyes. That's when I noticed Katie in the passenger seat, her tear-stained face betraying her silent anguish. It was clear she wanted to say something, but I couldn't shake the feeling that Roman had warned her against it.
"What do you know about this place?" Roman asked sternly, his voice devoid of emotion.
"We've lived here all our lives, Roman," I replied, confusion evident in my tone. "What do you mean?”
Roman pressed down on the brakes, bringing us to a sudden stop. I noticed a pained expression flit across his face in the mirror, a fleeting moment of vulnerability that he quickly tried to conceal.
"Your leg!" I exclaimed, my voice laced with concern as I recalled the events from earlier.
"It was a dislocated hip. I fixed it," he replied bluntly, his tone revealing little about the ordeal he must have endured.
"This isn't real, Jason. None of this is real. You are not real!" Roman's voice was sharp, refusing to meet my eyes in the reflection.
"Back at Katie's house, I remembered everything the moment I looked into that creature's eyes. I remembered... I remembered Natalie," he said, his words catching in his throat, revealing the first hint of emotion I'd seen from him.
I watched as a tear rolled down Katie's face. I reached to put a hand on her shoulder but stopped myself.
"Roman got me to remember," Katie said, her voice trembling. "I remembered the emergency alert, and when those things broke down our doors. I watched as they dragged my parents out, then my baby brother, then me. I woke up in this fake world, in a family that isn't even mine, dating a boy who turns out to be one of the monsters who brought me here." She spluttered, and I began to cry silently as I realised what she was saying.
Roman eventually started driving again, occasionally getting a call from Morgan, but after the fifth call he threw his phone out the window. We drove until I fell asleep. I don't remember what I dreamed about, but it was peaceful. I think I was in that forest with Roman. We were children again, playing around in the trees, finding cool sticks and exploring the endless expanse of what felt like a fairytale, which I guess it was.
I was awoken by the abrupt sound of Roman's car door slamming. I looked outside and saw that it was daytime again. Trying to figure out where we had stopped, I noticed a giant sign that said “Library.” I hopped out of the car and jogged to catch up to Roman and Katie.
“What are we doing here?” I asked, clearly still being avoided. It was understandable, but it still hurt.
“I need to wake everyone up,” Roman said as we walked in and approached a computer.
I noticed we were getting odd stares from everyone as we walked by, which is when I also noticed that I looked like I had just come out the other side of a paper shredder. My clothes were all torn up with bits missing, apparently not possessing the magic healing ability that I do. The sound of Roman typing snapped me out of my self-conscious thoughts and redirected me to the computer screen.
"I'm going to be a while, guys," Roman said as he began writing out his story. "I need to tell the whole thing from the beginning. Go find a book or something.”
I looked over to Katie, her face void of expression, but a great sadness filled her now dry eyes, having cried all the tears she had. “Why don't you just wake up?” I asked, probably coming across as more insensitive than I intended.
“I've got nothing to go back to. Roman told me what the world is like back there. If my family is here, I have to find them and wake them up first,” she responded, finally meeting my eye.
I wanted to hug her so bad, but I knew she didn't love me anymore. She probably had a real boyfriend in the real world.
Hours went by as Katie and I found a place to sit and wait in silence, watching Roman. He looked funny in the little library chair, hunched over the computer. Such a big guy looked out of place here, his muscular presence overpowering that of the rest of the library's patrons, who were all either very old or very young.
I hate to admit I fell asleep, but I'm just telling the story how it was. I was awoken suddenly by sirens and shouts. “We have got you surrounded, come out with your hands up or we will come in and show you no mercy,” a man's voice yelled from outside through a speaker. I looked over to Roman, who was limping over to us as all the customers flooded out the exits.
“Get up, we need to leave. They've turned the law against us,” Roman ordered. Katie and I listened and followed him.
We made our way upstairs into the empty employee lounge, and Roman opened a window... with his elbow. “They've got every exit covered but this one. We need to jump,” he calmly told us. He stood up in the window frame, kicked off some of the remaining glass with his boots, and jumped to the roof of the single-story building below, wincing in pain as he landed on his bad leg.
That's when six armed officers kicked down the door and opened fire on Katie and me. I moved to block the bullets from hitting Katie, taking several hits to the head and back. I then pushed Katie through the window, and Roman caught her before I jumped out myself and followed.
We ran from rooftop to rooftop until we reached a ladder that led down into an alleyway, where we attempted to catch our breaths. Roman and Katie watched me intently as the bullets lodged in my body began to work their way back out, the wounds closing up after. My skin color shifted a little, and I felt a rattle leave my throat as a cold sweat came over me.
“Hey, control yourself,” Roman told me sternly. I nodded, struggling to remain composed.
“Did you finish the story?” Katie asked Roman.
“Yeah, I kind of had to rush the last part, but I got the message across,” he replied, slumping to the ground behind a dumpster, exhausted.
“What now?” I asked.
Roman looked at me, panting. “I'm gonna help Katie find her family, then I'm going back to Natalie,” he said between heavy breaths.
“What about Morgan?” I questioned, causing him to look down at his feet. “I don't even know her in the real world, and I would never have chosen to be with her. This place… it's like it wrote me a life that was least likely to let me remember who I am. The girl I'm engaged to is the complete opposite of Natalie. I've got a brother who lives with me, my parents are dead. There's literally nothing here to remind me of home, bro,” Roman said, shedding a couple of tears.
We waited in the alley until night, hearing sirens go back and forth every now and then. When Roman said we were in the clear, we made our way back to the car and started driving again. I noticed Roman's eyes fluttering after about an hour, and I told him I'd be happy to drive if he needed to sleep. I could tell that his ego didn't want to admit he was exhausted, and he also still didn't trust me, but he gave in and pulled over, falling asleep in the back seat as I drove off into the night.

Edited to add - does not necessarily have to be science fiction!
I'm 25 and had never read a book in its entirety for the past decade plus. The only reading I'd done is sporadic readings for college courses and documentation for my work.
But recently, on a long flight from NYC to Tokyo, I decided to try reading The Three Body Problem on the recommendation of a friend.
I was instantly hooked and could not put it down. I finished the entire thing during the flight, and I started The Dark Forest right afterward and finished it when flying back. I absolutely adore these books.
I'm afraid that I will not have much incentive to continue reading books if I don't find more books as well-written and compelling as these, so please give me some suggestions that will keep my newfound interest in books going!
More context -
I can't put into words all of the reasons I love the trilogy, because I honestly don't know them all myself.
But to help guide the suggestions here: I think one of the reasons I love it is just the narrative and how it's structured.
It starts off as a somewhat sardonic commentary on the Cultural Revolution ; then slowly introduces a mystery ; then unwraps the layers of that mystery to reveal a cosmic-scale civilizational threat in the backdrop of intense human disaffection and conflict.
I just loved how the books weaved so many things together, jumping from fantastical sci-fi to game theory to psychology to personal narrative to space opera , to tell a really compelling story.
Much of it was just fantastical sci-fi, but there was also so much that was just thought provoking, especially the dark forest hypothesis that is explored in more depth in the second book and the linking of our ability to do fundamental research with our ability to technologically innovate.
I also really like the writing: pointed, almost satirical, for particularly absurd moments ( e.g., in the first book, the struggle session ); solemn and awe-inspiring for the powerful moments of self-sacrifice or human triumph in the face of adversity.
At times, the writing is just beautiful, with some passages' being particularly melancholy, chilling, or inspiring.
To give an idea of the kind of writing I particularly like, some of my favorite passages include:

The fleet accelerated with no disruption to its formation, its huge wall blocking out the sun, and then made a stately advance into space with the force of a thundercloud, declaring to the universe the dignity and invincibility of the human race.
[...]
At this moment, all the stars in the galaxy silently held back their light, and Human and God stepped out proudly into the universe as one.

It was impossible to expect a moral awakening from humankind itself, just like it was impossible to expect humans to lift off the earth by pulling up on their own hair. To achieve moral awakening required a force outside the human race.
This thought determined the entire direction of Ye’s life.

As that distant world held its breath to listen, neither ant nor spider was aware that they, out of all life on Earth, were the sole witnesses to the birth of the axioms of cosmic civilization.

At the end, an adult and a child stand in front of the grave of a Red Guard who had died during the faction civil wars. The child asks the adult, ‘Are they heroes?’ The adult says no. The child asks, ‘Are they enemies?’ The adult again says no. The child asks, ‘Then who are they?’ The adult says, ‘History.'”

Ten thousand times the web could be destroyed, and ten thousand times the spider would rebuild it. There was neither annoyance nor despair, nor any delight, just as it had been for a billion years.

"Look at them, the bugs. Humans have used everything in their power to extinguish them: every kind of poison, aerial sprays, introducing and cultivating their natural predators, searching for and destroying their eggs, using genetic modification to sterilize them, burning with fire, drowning with water. Every family has bug spray, every desk has a flyswatter under it… this long war has been going on for the entire history of human civilization. But the outcome is still in doubt. The bugs have not been eliminated. They still proudly live between the heavens and the earth, and their numbers have not diminished from the time before the appearance of the humans. The Trisolarans who deemed the humans bugs seemed to have forgotten one fact: The bugs have never been truly defeated."
A small black cloud covered the sun and cast a moving shadow against the ground. This was not a common cloud, but a swarm of locusts that had just arrived. As the swarm landed in the fields nearby, the three men stood in the middle of a living shower, feeling the dignity of life on Earth. Ding Yi and Wang Miao poured the two bottles of wine they had with them on the ground beneath their feet, a toast for the bugs.

Is this a thing now?
I drop down on a medium tier mission fighting the bots, and mission after mission the piling on of patrols, and following on forces that pile on are crazy.
It feels as though, even on the lower difficulties, I can't get a moment to breath. This culminates especially during the extraction. Targets were not always this numerous, this persistent, at Medium difficulty...
When I'm coming off of work and wanting to do my time. I don't play with randoms, too many bad experiences ruining what free time I have left during the week. And my friends really don't have time to get together till the weekends. Which is to say, during the week, I try to chill out at lower tiers.
TLDR, Is there an uptick on enemy patrols and spawning, even at lower levels?
Cheers 🍻

TODAY'S RECAP

Sheila loves that she got to spook Li and delights in anticipation of revealing herself to the Forresters. We see the aftermath of Steffy, Ridge, and Liam accepting the truth. Neither Finn or Deacon knows their partners as well as they think they do.

Deacon and Sheila at Deacon's

Sheila: I'm glad I went to the hospital. Nothing was more fun than scaring the bejesus out of Li! 😄 (Sheila can't stop giggling). It couldn't have been more perfect -- Li being there. Hahaha!
Deacon: She was furiously attacking you, tryna send you to the grave, for real.
Sheila: I know! It was so much fucking fun! More fun than I've had in a long time. 😆 Poor Li, she was just jealous that Finn couldn't let me stay dead and felt compelled to save me! Hahahaha. Li couldn't take it! (💭 Suck it, Li!)
I know. I know. People wish me dead all the damned time. IDGAF. I'm used to it! 😏
Deacon: This is going to keep happening if you keep popping up 👻 and surprising people. 😛 You're going to get a similar reaction to Li 🤯😡😤💥 Hey, how about trying subtle?
Sheila: Fuck that. I like to go BIG! 😆 I expect people to react like Li. I'm looking forward to it. 😏 I can't wait! Hahaha. 😂🤣
Who will be most shocked? Brooke 😫 or Ridge 😡? Oooh, I sooo wanna roll on up into Eric's place. 👏👏👏 Whoooey! Fun! 🎉 Donna is a screamer! 😮 (💭 These bitches will all freak out beautifully in a perfect combination of shock 😳, fear 🫣, loathing 😠, and disbelief 😦. Hahaha. Yay! 🤸‍♀️).
It was so perfect how Li was just there. How can I orchestrate my reveal to the Forresters for maximum shock? 😀 I can pop in at FC and be the model who walks in to see Ridge for alterations! Hahaha! HAAAA! 🤭
Deacon: Does "changed'" Sheila just wanna shock people? (💭 Sheila Sheila Sheila. Gotta try to control the crazy 😵‍💫).
Sheila: OMG! You're no FUN! It's just a little SHOCK 😱. Not HARM! 😏 (💭 I'm not going to chop up 🪓, hang or tie up ➰, stab 🔪, drown 🌊, or shoot 🔫 anybody. I'm not going to set anyone's house on fire🔥 or chain ⛓️ them up in a dungeon ⛓️! I'm not going to kidnap any babies or children 👦👶👧, or trick anyone into getting my face 🙂. I'm not going to break in to anyone's home 🏠! That was the old Sheila! No one will end up murdered, kidnapped, bloody🩸, or otherwise injured 🤕, ffs! Gah! Calm down! It's just a little mischief 🙄😏).
I just want to have a little fun 🥳. Come on! Nothing nefarious 👿. Just prankster fun 🤪😝!
Deacon: So remember the nice, chill, mellow, 😌 happy, calm, quiet life we discussed? (💭 Imagine being a stoner and our biggest stressor is getting the munchies 🍕🥪🍚🍪🍰🥯🍟🥨when we're out of snacks and our favorite places are closed.) No fantasies about scaring 👻 people and getting reactions from the Forresters. Let's get back to us, our engagement, and our nice, quiet life. (Deacon, Reddit wonders if you actually KNOW Sheila 🤔).
Sheila: Ppffrrtt. (💭 Alright, fine, we'll seeeeeee😏.)
(Sheila and Deacon laugh 😄😀 and smoochy smoochy kissy kissy 😍🥰. Then Sheila is snuggled up with Deacon getting a shoulder massage.)
Sheila: I missed this. 😍 I missed you and thought about you the whole time. I didn't think I'd be back here. I was thisclose to 💀.
But, here I am! With you and my imaginary ring. 👋💍 😀 WOW!
Deacon: 🙄 No more pretending. I want everyone to know how in love 😍💕 I am with you. 🥰 (More smoochy smoochy 😘🥰.)

Hope, Ridge, and Liam at FC

Ridge and Liam: Sheila! Changed? 🤨 Wha? 😦Nah. Nope. No. No fucking way! 😠 Is Finn crazy? 😵‍💫 Delusional? Stupid? Wtf is his problem? 😤
Ridge: You must have gotten it wrong. It can't be.
Hope: No. Sheila is--
Ridge: NOOOOOOO! Grrrr. 😠 Gah! 😦 Not about SHEILA. I know. I KNOW. 🤨 I get it. I heard you. Sheila's alive. Fuck. But whatever. No. I mean about the other thing -- Finn idiotically thinking this is GOOD news. Growl! Huff! Puff! 😤On what planet could he POSSIBLY believe this is good news? How clueless is he?
Liam: (quickly hopping on the anti-Finn train 🚂) Yah. Yah. I mean, seriously. Hope. How could Finn POSSIBLY think,💡🤔 with NO ❌ evidence, that psychopath Sheila 👿 is reformed 😇? Wtf?!
Hope: He has reasons. He--
Ridge: REASONS!? REASONS?! 😮 Snarl! 😡 What fucking REASONS?!
Hope: He says she's changed. He's seen her growth. 🌱 He's seen her sprout angel 😇 wings 🪽. He's seen a new and improved Sheila.
Liam: Give me a fucking break! It's pure foolishness 🥴 and personal bias! 😦 Gah! Just because the BABY MANCHILD has a childish need to have a relationship with his birth mommy, he's latched onto a fantasy that this demon 👿 psycho has reformed. (💭 Don't worry, Steffy 💕. I'll be your fall back guy.).
It's NOT REALITY! (💭 I'm really postering now, showing off to Ridge, matching him huff for puff! 😤).
Ridge: Yah! Grrrr. Harumph! 😤😡 What's gotten into this guy? 🤨 Growl! 😦 Sheila is an ANIMAL! Grrr! 😦 Animals don't change! Snort! 😤 Spiders 🕷️, snakes⚕️, reptiles 🐊, monsters 🧟‍♀️👺👿 like Sheila never change!
Hope: I felt the same way. (💭 I even gave up on a relationship with my dad ☹️ when he wouldn't break it off with Sheila.) But after seeing 👀 them together 💕, maybe we should keep an open mind 😐. People said the same thing about Thomas, that he--
Ridge: 🤨 You DID NOT. You DID NOT just FUCKING GO THERE (💭 bitch!) Growl! 😡 Snarl! 😦 Snort 😤! Grrrr. You DID NOT just COMPARE my TALENTED, KIND, LOVING, REFORMED SON (some Redditors say you forgot enabled, entitled, obsessed, dangerous, and consequence free son) to that PSYCHOPATH SHEILA?! OMFG! 🤬
Hope: I'm not saying they're the same. 🫤🙄 (💭 Gah. Eye roll. Patience with the neanderthal. Deep breath.) I'm just saying people can change. So we could just possibly, maybe open the door a teeny, tiny 🤏 bit and entertain the possibility that Finn could possibly be right.
Ridge: You AGREE with (💭 the loser idiot) FINN about that psycho 🫨 Sheila?! What the fucking fuck, Hope?! (💭 Are you crazy and stupid too? Where's Brooke? I can't deal with you, ffs.😠)
Look, Finn has a weird ass connection to Sheila. But WTF, Hope. What's up with YOU? 🤔
Liam: 🤨
Hope: I explained. Sugar was planning to harm 🪓➰🔪🩸 Steffy. Sheila tried to stop her.
Liam: Hearsay. This story of Sheila fighting Sugar came from the least reliable source -- Sheila! (💭 Reddit hates to admit it, but Liam has a point). Sheila told you this story. You, Finn, and Deacon just accept it at face value.
But all we know for sure is that SHEILA didn't attack 🔪 Steffy. Sugar did. That doesn't mean Sheila has changed. It just means there were TWO psychos! 😵‍💫🫨 (Reddit really doesn't want to give Liam credit but kinda gotta suck it up and admit, he's making good points.)
Hope: Deacon and Finn think she HAS changed.
Ridge: Hope. (💭 Whooo boy. I have no patience under normal circumstances. 😑 This is WILDLY FRUSTRATING AF! 😡). Everything Sheila says is a LIE! It's all for show. Gah! 😦 Come ON!
Hope: For--
Ridge and Liam: FOR FINN! FOR FINN! OMFG! 😨
Ridge: She's feeding him the fantasy HE WANTS! Now, she's supposed to be mother of the year, ffs?! Growl! Snarl! 😡 Nah!
Hope: I'm not saying we just accept it. I'm just asking that we keep an open mind, for Finn's sake. (💭 Reddit wonders why Hope doesn't just wrap it up and extricate herself from this whole thing! She should just say ' I gave you the news. Talk to Finn. Byeeee.' Reddit says get out of there, Hope. It's been a looooooooooooooong af day!)
Look, I'm starting to see Finn's side. If indeed Sheila has changed, why shouldn't he want a relationship with her?
Ridge: NOT gonna HAPPEN. 🤨 😡 (Reddit thinks Ridge must have taken a few pointers from Victor Newman only Ridge is way louder.) Finn wants Sheila in their lives. Steffy's not gonna allow it.🫸❌ Absolutely not. ❌ No way. ❌ No how. ❌ Never. Ever. Gonna happen. ❌ Nope. ❌ Nah! ❌ Forget about it! ❌
Liam: Ohhh. Yah! Righ! After what she's endured being MARRIED to this guy who has some bullshit, primal connection to his psycho 🫨 birth mother. Now he wants to invite Sheila into her life? Well, he doesn't GET STEFFY! Steffy will NEVER allow it. She'll draw a line ➖in the sand. The stop 🛑 sign will go up. The hands will push 🫸 back 🫸 hard 🫸.
FINN DOESN'T KNOW STEFFY -- like AT ALL! (💭 Not like I know Steffy and love 😍 Steffy, and will protect Steffy 👩‍❤️‍👨.)
Ridge: 🤨
Hope: 🙄

Finn and Steffy at their home

Steffy: (it all sinks in) It wasn't Sheila I stabbed 🔪. 😣 It was a look-a-like, Sugar. 😖 I stabbed Sugar -- some woman who was tricked into plastic surgery to look like Sheila. What?! 🤯
Finn: Yah, babe. Isn't that a good thing? 🙂 Isn't that GREAT? 😀 Isn't that a relief? 😀 Isn't that a HUGE weight lifted? 😃 Aren't you thrilled 🤩, happy 😁, and bursting with joy 😊? I know I am. We thought you killed my birth mother, but you stabbed a totally different psycho! Pretty cool, huh? 🙄😃
Steffy: 🥺😠😡 (💭 Wow. OMG. Finn thinks I should be relieved? WTF?!)
Finn: Sugar kidnapped ➰⛓️ Sheila. If Deacon and I hadn't gotten there to SAVE her, she might not have survived, honey! This is SUCH AMAZINGLY AWESOME 👍 NEWS!
Steffy: So YOU think I'm supposed to be THANKFUL this monster 👿 is alive?! Are you fucking serious?! 😖😟
Finn: Nah. But yah. Isn't a small 🤏 part of you thankful? 🙄
Steffy: No. 😕
Finn: Relieved? 😀
Steffy: No. ☹️
Finn: Happy for me? 🙂
Steffy: No. 😣
Finn: Honey, babe, sweetheart, listen. We were struggling with the fact that you killed my birth mother, but we don't have to anymore. (💭 I know if I reframe this the right way, Steffy will have an ah ha 💡moment 😀 and feel relief. I just have to find the right words. I have faith 🙏 in us. I'm not even a little bit delusional.🥴 I know Steffy has a good and forgiving heart ❤️. She's just in shock 😳 and horrified 😱 and her mind is blown 🤯. But this will subside. 🙂 I'll just keep talking in a soothing voice. Yah!)
You killed someone who hated Sheila. Sugar was crazy. She wanted to hurt YOU to hurt HER. Get it? (💭 Sugar was the REALLY bad 👹 one. Sheila is a RECOVERING psycho! Big difference! 😀)
Steffy: So I'm supposed to be ooooh all happy and shit that psycho A is dead and psycho B is alive? 🤔 Nah! Finn, I'ma speak slowly so you can understand me when I tell you, NO I'm not happy or relieved or whatever tf you want me to be -- because the DANGER IS BACK! (💭 This man has the THICKEST, HARDEST HEAD! Fucking hell. He's freaking me out so badly that Dawn can't even find any emojis to express the emotional wreckage on my face! Anger, disbelief, confusion, fear, stress, anxiety, frustration -- all the feels!)
Finn: Nah. It's not back! That's the glorious, wonderful, amazing, beautiful, exciting, magnificent 😀😃😄😁 thing I'm just not adequately conveying to you, my love! No fear or danger! Sheila tried to PROTECT YOU. She tried to SAVE YOUR LIFE! She's your best friend ever! She wants to get pedicures together, not shoot us and leave us for dead! She's past that nonsense now. No more danger, honey! ☺️💕
She offered her own life to save you! She tried to fight Sugar. She loves us!
Steffy: Look. 🤨 Sugar's scheme was to blame Sheila. So, Sheila was just selfishly protecting HERSELF from getting blamed. That's all it was! (💭 If I just reframe this the right way, Finn will have an ah ha 💡 moment. He has to! I just have to find the right words to get through his thick skull and penetrate his delusional thinking. He's really worrying me and pissing me off. Wow. Just wow.)
Finn: Nah. She offered her own life! She cares more about us than her own life. SHEILA'S A HERO! Super Sheila🦸‍♀️ to the rescue, only she was chained up ⛓️ and fighting at a disadvantage, but she tried!
Steffy: Hero? HERO? 🤢🤮 You're calling SHEILA fucking psycho CARTER a HERO? Are you on crack? 😮 She tried to KILL🩸us. (💭 He's gone off the deep end into LA LA land 🤪.)
Finn: When Sugar told her--
Steffy: (Angry 😡 and frustrated 😖, Steffy Slams a chair 🪑💥 hard on the floor.) I DON'T GIVE AF ABOUT SUGAR!!! I don't CARE about her!!! 😦😣 She means NOTHING TO ME!!! (💭 STFU Finn! OMFG! Ahhhh! I have NO PATIENCE LEFT for his delusional BULLSHIT! I can't seem to get through to him! Why tf won't he LISTEN??!! 🤬)
WE'RE TALKING ABOUT SHEILA! 😠
S H E I L A !! 😡
We've been over this a ZILLION TIMES how she had terrorized my family for generations! How do you not GET IT?
Finn: I do. I underst--
Steffy: NO YOU DO NOT FUCKING UNDERSTAND!!!! 😡😤 GENERATIONS! GENERATIONS! That vile bitch is a LUNATIC! 😵‍💫🫨😈
(Steffy pleads 😫 with Finn in frustration 😖😣 to comprehend.)
She tried to KILL ME! And my MOTHER! And my GRANDMOTHER! 😩
I lost TIME with my mother! 😩 I lost TIME with YOU! 😫😣
She's tried to POISON people. So, even if she did try some feeble attempt to get that other stupid psychopath friend not to hurt me, SO FUCKING WHAT?!
NO! NO! NO NO NO NO! 😡 She's NO HERO! I NEVER want to hear you say that AGAIN! (💭 La La La La I can't hear you! I won't hear you! NO!)
Finn: 😑😞 (shakes his head. 💭 She's not getting it.)
Steffy: 😡😖 (shakes her head. 💭 He's lost his mind.)
Steffy: Do you hear me? She's vile. She is in no way a HERO! 😠 She left us in an ALLEY to DIE! What are you thinking? 😩
Finn: Yah yah. I knoooow. I know her past sins. She's made some mistakes 😒, some bad judgement calls🙄, she's been kind of a mess 🫤. She hasn't always put her best foot forward. She hasn't always been super thoughtful. Sure, she's wanted a lot of people dead 💀, but that was THEN and this is NOW! She's been working on herself. She's very into self help these days, and yoga and shit. The fact is she tried to save you!
Steffy: Don't CHALLENGE ME on FACTS ABOUT SHEILA! I'll give YOU the fucking FACTS Mr. Man! 😡 You will lose.
Finn: How about the handy dandy fact that she's alive and you didn't kill my birth mother? ☺️ That matters to me! I'm your husband (takes Steffy's hand). You're the most important person 💕 in the world 🌎 to me. But my birth mother was a mystery. I almost lost her. I just want to help her. I don't want to turn my back on her. 😟 (💭 She's kind of a hoot too, and stubborn and strong, kinda like someone else I love! ❤️)
Steffy: (looking miserable 😖) But you have to. I love you. 😢God, I love you! ❤️ (💭 And my heart is breaking 💔 right now.) You are SO GOOD! But Sheila is EVIL 👹. You are naive (💭 delusional) to think she'll change, that she won't devestate our lives.
Sheila is NOT going to be IN OUR LIVES, no where near Kelly or Hayes.
You can't have BOTH. 😟
It's either HER.
Or ME. 😐
Finn: 😕I hear you. Of COURSE it's YOU. It will always be you. ❤️ (Steffy and Finn share an emotional embrace, both with weary 😞, teary 😥, worried 🥺 expressions. They hold on to each other, emotionally spent.)
The end.

My post on Dudebrah the himbo dragonborn gymbro paladin of Helm caused some discussion. Figured I'd share a Dudebrah conversation because he was a fully fleshed out character.
Cleric: Dudebrah, you're constantly training, or lifting, or fighting, you never sit still, do you ever just sit quietly and think, or meditate, or stop to take in the world.
DB: S'yah brah, but I don't like it.
Cleric: What don't you like?
DB: Quiet brah.
Cleric: You don't like quiet?
DB: Nah brah, cause if there's nothing going on then I get like, these intrusive thoughts brah. S'like, I'll start thinking about the paradox of my oath and how like, I'm destined to fail in my vow to the righteous holy Helm brah.
Cause like, my vows to Helm say that I swear to spend my life protecting everyone worthy of Helm's grace, right, and so like, it's not like I'm going to retire and get old and die in bed right, and like, cause of the glory of Helm I can't get sick right, 'cept for these sick gains brah, and so like, I'm going to die in battle, someday, the last breath I take is going to be in pain as like, the last thing I see will my guts all spewing out on the muddy ground, surrounded by my bros and like the people I swore to protect with like their heads all cut off and stuff, and like, they'll all be dead or dying too, right? and in that moment I will have failed my holy duty to Helm, brah, super not chill.
So, it's like, no matter how hard I try and fulfill my vows, I'm guaranteed to break them eventually, and I'm going to die an oathbreaker, brah, it's like so not chill to break your oath to Helm brah. And then I worry that even by thinking thoughts like that, that I'm full on committing heresy against Helm brah and worse, betraying all my bros, feel me brah?
Annnnywaaaaay, I think I'm gonna hit the gym, only did legs twice this week.

I'm pretty sure I'm going to be dead in the next 24 hours.
Whether that's the Costella family, or whatever this is, I'm not sure.
The police are taking forever, and part of me knows they're either refusing to believe me, or RC got them too.
I'm holed up on our school bus, so I've got nothing better to do.
I want to tell you about my team.
We met in our sophomore year.
Strangers standing outside the club room.
Levi was the freckled brunette who wouldn't stop talking about Game of Thrones.
Sunny, a pretty redhead, told him to shut up.
Tom, a sandy blonde, nodding his head to music corked in his ears.
I just wanted to be part of a club, and get away from my overbearing mother.
I won't say it was a perfect start. Our school was lacking in funding, so anyone could join, which made us more of a Quiz Club. I had some serious anxiety, so I stayed on the sidelines for a while, watching, rather than taking part.
It's not like we actually talked to each other initially. The first few weeks, we played Jeopardy, and attempted to find more members to cement us as an official Academic Decathlon club.
Unfortunately, though, it was just the four of us.
Which made it extremely hard for us to be taken seriously.
According to Google, Academic Decathlon teams were made up of nine members, placed by their GPA.
Our principal laughed at us, but he did let us become official.
Which was out of pity, I assumed.
The club was assembled, and we started meeting up after school.
Sort of.
Sunny barely showed up, and Levi didn't take anything seriously, preferring to spend the time telling us about his weird family turf-war.
Our principal dumped us in a tiny classroom with a resident rat living under the floorboards.
There was barely enough room to move, and the four of us crammed together for three hours was less than appealing.
Still, though, I wanted to be part of a club.
I had grown up with parents who were obsessed with board games, so I was pretty good at general knowledge questions. Our club room was too small for anything else but three desks (Sunny and I shared one) and a whiteboard we had to shove through the door.
But, again, we didn't start as an Academic club.
It was more akin to Story Time Club.
Arriving late on my third day, armed with quiz cards from home, I found Tom and Sunny completely mesmerised by Levi’s storytelling skills, drowned in shadow.
They didn't even turn the lights on.
I strictly remember squeezing next to Sunny, and hearing the words, “But there was so much blood all over the floor, and my Mom told me to go upstairs and hide under the bed…”
Sitting in front of them was Levi, perched on a desk, his legs swinging, a whiteboard marker between his teeth.
Sometimes he'd get up, and illustrate parts of his story.
It sucked that his drawings were all stick people.
I won't go into full details of his life, but Levi grew up as part of a family who had… interesting methods of making a living. I had seen the guy’s father multiple times when we hung out at his place, and, yeah, my friend’s family definitely had Soprano vibes.
Levi’s Draw My Life was nothing to do with the club, but it did bring us closer.
Even if, at that point, I was considering leaving.
But it's not like it was easy to walk away from these guys. It's like finding your soulmates. Levi wasn't the only one with an interesting life. Sunny Lang was an ex kpop trainee, who was kicked out for being too fat, which led her to develop a severe eating disorder, and a hatred for her own body.
Sunny explained her family were originally from Boston, her mother growing up in Korea.
She signed up for an idol agency focusing on creating a new girl group, and had gotten all the way to the final stages, before being kicked for her weight. Sunny told us her story with a smile, though there was a hollowness in her eyes I couldn't ignore. The other girls were judgemental bullies, and the idol diet and brutal regime almost killed her.
Sunny lived in a tiny apartment with 9 girls, who would tear each other apart for a chance to debut. Sunny said all the other girls debuted, and when we (not so patiently) asked for names, she shrugged, admitting she signed an NDA that prevented her spilling the beans.
What she did say, was the K-pop idol is a product, not a person– and are made and moulded into a product.
She had zero interest in throwing her humanity away to become a manufactured doll.
So, one of us was the son of an underground family, and the other was an ex idol.
Tom was an aspiring horror writer with a famous older step-brother.
His story times were usually, That one time I went to the Met Gala.
When it was my turn to reveal my story, I told them the only interesting thing about me.
I could smell when something bad was going to happen.
They laughed, but I was being serious.
When I was a kid, I smelled my mother’s brain tumor.
I remember it smelled like curdled milk.
I asked Mom why her head smelled of mouldy milk, and Mom laughed and said it was her shampoo.
It was actually a grade two tumor growing inside her brain.
Thankfully, the tumour was found quickly and removed.
Growing older, I became sensitive to smell. The little girl choking on the bus smelled of singed wood, and the old man crossing the road stunk of gasoline.
In the fourth grade, my classmate Alex Castor smelled of lemons all morning.
I sat behind him, choking on the stink all the way through class.
Ever since I met him, Alex had always smelled… off.
It was a distinct smell I could never understand, and as the days and months and years went by, that smell morphed into a subtle orangey musk that was so strong I had to cover my mouth and nose. Then, he smelled like lemons.
During Recess, I watched Alex fall off of the jungle gym, straight onto his head.
Alex Castor was dead before the paramedics arrived, my panicked teacher attempting CPR when his brains were leaking out of his ears.
The school claimed it was an accident, but Alex would have been fine if the jungle gym wasn't built on solid concrete.
I told my team members this, and Levi was sceptical.
“You can smell bad things?” He said, his lips curved around his milkshake straw. In the early days, we hung out in the local bar. It's not like we were allowed inside, but Levi could get us in anywhere.
I was squeezed between Tom and Sunny, while Levi took the seat opposite us. I couldn't help noticing our waitress was insisting on free milkshake refills, her frantic eyes glued to Levi.
I had zero idea why. Levi Costella was about as intimidating as a fruit fly.
Wearing a white shirt with a popped collar, a leather jacket thrown over the top, Levi was giving rebellious Harvard student, rather than son of a crime family.
Leaning forward, he raised a brow, clearly not believing me.
“So, you're like a stink psychic?”
I shrugged, sipping my own shake.
“Sure.”
I wasn't planning on telling him the club room smelled off on our first day.
Once we actually started the club, Levi surprised us as the smartest member, and getting to know him further, I came to the realization his family were infamous in our town.
However, his parents hid it well. Lucy and Michael Costella were the owners of a popular ramen store in our town, hiding under the facade of two successful business owners. The Costella’s were an attractive family.
Lucy was a sophisticated brunette with a lipstick smile, Michael, a handsome fluffy haired man who looked like he modelled glasses.
The two were fiercely protective over their youngest son, not so casually reminding us behind grinning smiles, that if anything happened to Levi, we would automatically be involved in the family.
I mean, they did laugh and say, “We’re joking! Look at your little faces!” when Sunny went deathly pale. But there was definitely truth behind their words.
Being Levi’s friend was… challenging at first.
Tom and I were in his room studying for finals, and an alarm went off, flooding Levi’s room in red light.
I had zero idea where it was coming from, but it locked all the doors and windows, forcing the Costella residence into temporary lockdown. Levi didn't seem fazed, casually mentioning his parents were taking care of it.
He had a whiteboard set up in his room, and was standing in front of it, cramming all of our textbook notes into one easily digestible drawing.
Levi wasn't just smart.
He was Ivy League smart, so we had struck gold with him.
His family were questionable, and yes, sometimes I did fear for my life, but as the more time we spent at his house, the Costella household became a second home. We got used to the alarms.
I just brought along ear plugs.
I wish I was writing this post about Levi’s family, and sure, they are a factor in what is going on right now, but I want to preface this by saying the events below involve the 2024 scholastic decathlon final in our town with the school’s listed:
Starbrook High School.
Ratcliffe High School.
Please note, the incident that took place last night was immediately covered up, and all phone footage was destroyed. Our town is mostly out of the way, and does not show up on Google searches.
We also have our own version of the academic decathlon, which is a more town-level competition, due to lacking funds. The four of us were desperate to start competing with our schools.
So, we started taking things a little more seriously.
We got a coach.
Mr Hanes, who was hesitant at first.
In his words, “You will hate me as your coach.”
He started by recruiting more members, announcing, “If you want to be taken seriously as an actual club, then I'll be taking the reins from now on.”
He did, and with our teachers guidance (and sometimes brutal honesty), we reached a level where we could start competing with other school’s in town. Now, none of us knew this, but Mr Hanes was obsessed with winning.
So, club meetings were twisted into two hour study sessions with no talking, followed by Mr Hanes Jeaprody, which was Jeaprody, without the actual fun.
We were quizzed multiple times, answer cards and practise questions quite literally thrown directly in our faces.
I hate to admit this (I really hate to admit this) but Mr Hanes’s tactics worked. Sure, we had been mildly brainwashed by our slightly unhinged coach, but with Levi Costella, we destroyed our competitors. Like I said, our town held their own version of the academic scholastic decathlon, but it was pretty much the same, with some changes.
Ten subjects. Language and Literature, Math, Social Science, Economics, Art, Music, Interview, Speech, and Essay.
Unlike the official Decathlon, ours was more like a game show, with the ability to be knocked out if a team member answers a question wrong. Whoever answers the most questions correctly wins. Team meet ups were either tests, study sessions, or quizzing each other.
Which leads me to last night.
The finals were held in the reigning champions, Ratcliffe High School’s, auditorium.
And we were about to win our town’s Scholastic Decathlon 2024 Championships.
Well…I was knocked out in the music section. Standing next to my coach who I was sure was going to asphyxiate from excitement, I could smell the sudden potent stink of lemon. I tried to ignore it at first, but the more questions my team were answering correctly, the smell got worse, suffocating my senses.
This wasn't just lemon. The stink was like a burning, singing smell trickling into my nose and the back of my throat.
It was stronger than what Alex smelled like.
This was suffocating, drowning my thoughts.
“Are you okay, Cassandra?”
Mr Hanes nudged me when a Ratcliffe girl was struggling to answer a question, only for Sunny to jump in with the answer. “You look quite pale.”
I nodded, forcing a smile.
My gaze was on the Ratcliffe coach, a scary looking blonde woman, whispering in one of her student’s ears.
The Ratcliffe kid freaked me out. He was way too tall, dark blonde hair, and bulging eyes I swear were not blinking.
His gaze was glued to Levi, who wore a smug grin.
There was a smaller girl next to the Ratcliffe kid, a Macbook balanced on her knee. Every so often, he leaned into her, the two of them in deep conversation.
“I'm just nervous.”
I jumped when Ratcliffe scored a point, their side erupting into cheers.
During the break, we had a mini team meeting.
Sunny rushed to the bathroom to freshen up, and I noticed a Ratcliffe girl with a bouncing ponytail following her.
Ignoring our coach’s speech, I joined the two girls in the corridor, that lemony scent hanging thick in the air.
I caught them in an awkward position.
The Ratcliffe girl had her fingers pinched between the material of Sunny’s dark blue shirt bearing our school’s name.
Sunny looked confused, her lips parted like she was going to yell.
Ponytail dropped her hand, suddenly, with a nervous laugh. “Oh! I'm so, so, sorry,” she gushed. “You had, like, the biggest spider crawling on your back.”
Sunny caught my eye, shooting me a reassuring smile.
“Thanks.” She made sure to keep her distance. “Uh, where's your bathroom?”
The Ratcliffe girl nodded down the hallway. “It's just down there. I'm going there too if you want me to show you?”
Sunny motioned for me to go back to the auditorium. “Uh, sure! That'd be great!”
I did try to follow them, only for Sunny to cough loudly.
I took the hint, reluctantly heading back into the auditorium.
My team was hyping each other up, Levi in the centre, sweating through his team shirt. He ran a trembling hand through his hair. “I can't do this,” He groaned. “Ratcliffe High is known to play dirty, man. They're unbeatable.”
“In what way do they play dirty?” I asked, joining them.
Levi gulped down water, shrugging.
“I dunno! They're already trying to distract me with the stink eye.” The boy narrowed his eyes at a grinning Ratcliffe kid who, after noticing our stares, jumped to his feet, waving at us.
“Hey guys!”
“That's Harry Cartwright, the son of the Cartwright family who tried to kill my parents in the third grade.” Levi mockingly waved back. “As you can see, their kid is a fucking sociopath.”
Huh. I wasn't expecting the smiley kid to be the mobster’s son.
Harry Cartwright was not what I expected.
Unlike his team members, he was the only one in casual clothing, a short sleeved white shirt and jeans, a pair of sunglasses perched on top of his head.
Tom went pale.
“Fuck.” He hissed. “He’s one of you? Then those bastards will have a reason to play dirty, right?”
Levi shrugged, averting his gaze. It was the first time I saw his eyes darken, like he was subtly telling the boy to back off.
“The Cartwright’s have been trying to buy our land for a while,” he muttered. “I wouldn't put it past them to use the Decathlon as a way to attack.”
“Attack?!” April, another member of our team, hissed. “Like, attack attack?”
Mr Hanes grabbed the boy, resting his hands on Levi’s shoulders. “Ignore them,” he said. “Hey. Look at me.”
Levi did, raising a brow.
“You're losing that spark in your eye, young man.”
“Spark?”
Our coach nodded. “Look at me, kid.”
Levi rolled his eyes. “I am looking at you, Mr Hanes.”
The man was shaking. I was guessing his whole career (or coaching career) was on the line.
“They know they're losing, Mr Costella.”
Hanes shook the boy, squeezing his shoulders. “You are being positive and Ratcliffe doesn't like that. They want you to be nervous. They want to make you second guess yourself and lose confidence. Don't let them get into your head.” he smiled, giving the boy a playful shove. “Kick their asses.”
“Exactly!”
I didn't realize Sunny was back from the bathroom.
The faint smell of lemons had followed her. I noticed a wet patch on her shirt collar, though she was quick to smile at me, admitting she'd spilled water down herself. Sunny wrapped her arms around Levi, squeezing him into a hug.
She hung on for a little too long, Tom dragging her away with a laugh. “Good luck, all right?” she backed away, ruffling his hair. “We’ve got this!”
When I hugged Levi good luck too, I had to resist covering my nose.
The smell of lemon was unbearable, just like fourth grade Alex.
But it wasn't as potent as earlier.
I vaguely remembered the smell starting to fade once Alex’s body was being carted away on a stretcher.
Following my captain through the crowd, I was right. The smell was less suffocating. Before he went back to the stage, I grabbed the back of his shirt.
The material was soaking wet.
“How are you so wet?” I said, swiping my hands on my shirt.
“Huh?”
I shook my head. “Never mind. Do you remember what I told you in sophomore year?”
Levi settled me with a confident, but nervous smile. “Thaaaat you're scared of clowns?”
“No. I mean the boy who smelled of lemons.” I gritted out.
Levi surprised me with a laugh. “What are you talking about?”
Something ice cold trickled down my spine.
Levi did know what I was talking about. He brought up my stink sense a day earlier in front of his parents, and I had to cover his mouth to shut him up.
Leaning close, I whispered in his ear. “You stink of rotten lemons.”
He nodded slowly, pulling away. “Uh… thanks?”
I bit back a hiss of frustration. “No, you don't understand what I'm saying–”
“Starbrooke High School,” The host announced. “Can all members please return to the stage.”
Levi held up his hand for a high five.
“Can we do this later?” He winked. “I'm kinda busy carrying this spelling-bee on my back right now.”
I nodded shakily, high fiving him, and letting him jump back onto the stage.
Before his words hit like a tidal wave, ice cold water slammed into me.
Spelling Bee?
Slowly making my way back to the stands, Levi’s mistake was circling around my head. He did win a spelling bee, but that was in middle school.
Thankfully, the smell of lemons was gone when I returned to my seat.
Mr Hanes handed me a soda. “Chill out, Cassandera, it's just a game.”
He could talk. The guy was on his fifth coffee.
Mr Hanes was not chilled out in the slightest.
Surprisingly, the event went well. I was half expecting my team to be crushed by the rafters, or caught in a blaze started in the crowd. But we were doing well. No, we were winning.
Reaching the climaxing round, Sunny choked against a smug Ratcliffe boy, joining me on the sidelines.
Levi answered the next question with a confident smile.
We were winning, but Ratcliffe could still catch up with a miracle.
The second to last question was to Ratcliffe, and it was general knowledge.
”Where on the human body would one find the *orbit?*
I knew the answer, and so did Levi, his lips breaking out into a smile when the Ratcliffe boy was hesitating, eyes wide.
Our school’s buzzer went off, Levi slamming his hand down.
Bzzz!
The host turned to our team. “Starbrooke, can I have your answer?”
Levi nodded, shooting our team a victory grin.
“It's…!“ He opened his mouth to answer, his jaw slackening suddenly.
The boy’s shoulders slumped.
“Uh… “
“Um…”
“Huhhhhh…”
Levi inclined his head, blinking, his eyes glazing over. There was a sudden, hollow vacancy that sent chills down my spine. It was like someone had reached into his skull, and yanked out his brain, leaving a shell in his place.
To my confusion, our team captain frowned at his buzzer like he'd never seen one before. He pressed it, exploding into child-like giggles.
Bzzz!
The audience laughed along nervously.
Tom nudged me. “What the fuck is he doing?”
Bzzz Bzzz Bzzz!
Levi’s entire body was slumped, his hand slamming down on the buzzer.
I caught something pooling down his chin.
“Is he… drooling?” I whispered.
Mr Hanes looked mildly horrified. “Has he been drinking?
“Levi?” Tom spluttered. “Drinking?!"
Whatever we were watching, however, was definitely influenced by… something.
Bzz. Bzz. Bzz. Bzz. Bzz!
“Young man, that is not a toy!”
The host wasn't amused. “Starbrooke High School, I need an answer from you,” He nodded to Levi, who was pressing the buzzer, his smile growing.
“Once again,” The host backed away, like Levi was contagious. “Where on the human body would one find the Orbit?”
Levi cocked his head, lips parted.
His gaze found the overhead lights, and he winced, his lips curling into a frown.
“Starbrooke High School!”
Levi jumped, tipping his head back and blowing a raspberry. “Palm tree?”
The audience laughed, and I started feeling nauseous.
Across from us, I could see the twist of a smirk on the Ratcliffe coach’s lips.
Bzzz! Levi slammed the buzzer again giggling.
“Starbrooke High School, if your team member continues to act like this, I will be forced to disqualify all members.”
Our captain stopped, gaze glued to the host, his hand creeping towards the buzzer, like it was a big red button.
The audience loved it, laughing like they were watching a sitcom.
“He wouldn't.” Tom whisper-shrieked.
The auditorium was silent for a moment, awaiting Starbrooke’s response.
Levi stuck out his tongue, slamming his hand down.
Bzzz! Bzzz! Bzzz! Bzzz! Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz–
When Tom dragged Levi away from his podium, a Ratcliffe girl hit her buzzer.
“Starbrooke High School, you are disqualified,” the host announced. “Ratcliffe High School, do you have an answer?”
It was Ponytail who nodded with a grin.
“The answer is the eye socket! The Orbit is part of the eye socket!”
“That is the correct answer.” The host was distracted, his eyes glued to Levi.
“Ratcliffe High School wins.”
Levi jumped when the Ratcliffe wide erupted into cheers.
His eyes were wide, clinging onto the buzzer for comfort.
Next to me, our coach looked like he was going to faint.
I barely noticed Ratcliffe’s victory, too busy watching our team captain, who was Harvard bound, tipping his head back and smiling at the ceiling like a new-born baby. Tom dragged the stumbling boy over to me, his mouth twisted.
“This was Ratcliffe, right?” He hissed, shaking our captain, who was struggling, squirming in his grip.
“Did they put something in his drink?!” He prodded Levi. “Hey! What did they do to you?!”
Still, though, drugging his drink didn't make sense.
Levi never left the auditorium, and kept his water bottle with him the whole time.
How did they even manage to slip something into his drink in the first place?
Did I smell our competitors drugging him?
Sure, intentionally inebriating my teammate was morally wrong and illegal, but why could I smell lemon?
“I doubt it was Ratcliffe.” Sunny squeezed next to me. “I've been watching them. They're harmless.”
“Then how the fuck do we explain this to his parents?!” Tom whispered, grappling with Levi, who was fighting to get back to the buzzer.
When Tom let go of him, he dropped onto the floor, crawling over to his podium. It was like watching a child.
Who was determined to piss off the adults.
Levi jumped back to instead feet, his gaze was glued to the host, a smile curved on his lips, when he slammed the buzzer again.
Bzzz!
“Someone, please remove the Starbrooke boy from the stage!”
I was embarrassed, our whole team ducking our heads as our captain was forcibly removed from the podium.
Mr Hanes grabbed Levi, pulling him off of the stage.
I expected our coach to be mad at him, but I think the teacher was more worried, a phone pressed to his ear while he forced the boy into a sitting position.
No, I don't think it's influence from alcohol, I could hear his conversation.
Levi kept trying to get up, mesmerised by the buzzer. The teacher was firm but gentle. “Hey. Sit down, all right? Keep still.” He went back to his phone call, gently prying Levi’s eyes open.
From what I can see, there's nothing wrong. He's just kind of…
Mr Hanes swiped his own hands on his jeans. ... wet?
Team Ratcliffe came over to rub it in our faces, though I was still tuned into our coach’s hissed whispering.
Water? No, I don't think it's water. It smells… no, I haven't told his parents…
“You guys did awesome!” Ponytail's voice was sugary sweet. Too sugary.
She held the 2024 trophy, bearing a satisfied smile. I noticed the Ratcliffe members were surrounding Harry, like guards.
“Better luck next time, okay?” She held out her hand, her eyes twinkling.
“No hard feelings?”
“Control your dog.” Harry said, amused eyes flicking to Levi, who was once again sprinting back to the fucking buzzer. His eyes had visibly darkened, lips curled into a triumphant smile.
Harry Cartwright was watching Mr Hanes chase our team captain like it was his own personal entertainment.
I had to look away before I died of second hand embarrassment.
“What did you put in his drink?” Tom demanded. “Weed? Edibles?” the boy attempted to shove Harry, only to be pushed back. “What the fuck did you do to him?”
Harry’s smile didn't waver. “Like I said. Control your mut.”
When the Ratcliffe team walked away, our red faced coach struggling with Levi, who was behaving progressively more erratically, informed us we were longer welcome inside the school.
Tom suggested calling an ambulance, but our coach was hesitant.
We all knew who Levi’s family were.
On the way out, Tom matched my stride. He was frowning at our team captain struggling to walk.
The way he was acting was already eyebrow raising.
But walking at an angle and being unable to stand up straight was worrying.
“I don't think they drugged his drink.” Tom muttered.
We pushed through the doors out of the school, and I revelled in the cool night air grazing my cheek. “If they did, he would be acting out of it, right? So, what's the deal with him acting like–”
“A child.” I finished for him.
“Yeah.” Tom leaned closer. “Do you think this has something to do with their turf war?”
I slapped at a bug creeping across my cheek.
Levi fell over again, this time bursting into giggles.
“Almost definitely.”
Levi was right about Ratcliffe playing dirty. I didn't realize how dirty until we were on the losers bus home. Levi was in the seat next to me, and the kid hadn't moved since we left Ratcliffe, his eyes wide, lips pulled into a dazed grin.
Bzzz!
The noise startled me from slumber. I was drooling, my head pressed against the window. Outside, the sky was pitch dark, and squinting through the glass, I couldn't get a bearing on where we were. I thought I was hearing things, but when I sat up, I heard it again.
Bzzz!
It was close.
Leaning over the boy, I glimpsed a smear of scarlet on his headrest.
I choked on my next words.
“Tom.”
Tom was in front of me, listening to music.
He didn't reply, his head of dark blonde curls nodding to the beat.
“Levi.” I managed to get out. I prodded him, and his head lolled into his shoulder. “Hey. Can you… sit up?”
Bzzz! Bzzz!
When the boy didn't move, I gently grabbed his shoulders and pulled him forward myself, something contracting in my stomach.
I don't know how long it takes for your mind to fully register something, but my body was already reacting.
Levi’s seat was infested with bugs, eating their way through the upholstery. I was aware of my body moving back. I threw up, instantly, screaming into my hand.
The back of my best friend's skull resembled a deflated soccer ball, what was left of his brain leaking from his skull where a swarm of skittering bugs chewed their way through brain tissue, metallic legs scratching the curved, pearly white of the base if his skull.
Levi’s head hung, his body flopping into mine.
But his eyes were still open, lips still stretched into a smile.
Blood ran in thick rivulets from his nose and ears.
Bzzz!
I could see them, black writhing dots alive in his eyes, wriggling movement under his skin.
“Tom!”
I jumped up, stumbling into the aisle, my stomach heaving.
And it was only when I was on my knees, swiping bile from my lips, when I realized the others weren't reacting.
Tom wasn't moving.
I pulled an Airpod out of his ear, a long, slithering string of pink attached to the end.
There was a stray bug skittering across his hand, his face starting to twitch and writhe.
Moving back, I checked myself over, my hands shaking.
Head.
Shoulders.
Hair.
Clawing through it, my breath was stuck in my throat.
Arms.
Legs.
Feet.
Mr Hanes was slumped against the window, a reddish froth bubbling from his mouth.
Sunny.
I started towards the back of the bus, but all I had to see was her bowed head, half of her skull chewed through.
Sunny was in a far more deteriorated state, her face had been ripped through, a skeletal smile glinting in the dim.
The thick black smear on the window next to her was moving.
When I screamed for the driver to stop the bus, he ignored me.
If anything, he stamped on the gas.
I moved forward to shake him, before glimpsing a bug creeping down his face.
Calling 911, the operator laughed at me.
“Bugs are eating your friends.” He said. “Do you know the penalty for calling with bullshit pranks?”
The bus didn't stop, so I stayed at the front, while the bugs took over the back, eating through my teammates.
After four hours, I risked leaning over the seat next to Tom to check on Levi.
They were eating him.
Chewing all the way through skin, muscle and bone.
I tried to stop the bus, but the driver’s hands were tightly wrapped around the wheel.
Another hour, and blood was seeping down the aisle, crawling with bugs.
Levi was gone, and in his place, a buzzing skittering pile of bugs, that I thought were going to move to a second victim, maybe burrowing into the seats.
But, no.
These things began to tremble, replicating.
Building.
Slowly, nothing became static, and static became muscle.
Then bone.
Then flesh.
When a body began to slowly form, moulded from the dead boy, I stumbled back.
These things weren't eating Levi Costella.
They were rewriting him.
…
Edit: I'm still on the bus. I'm 99.9% sure that I'm infected with whatever this thing is. I can't stop fucking itching.
I keep picking them off me but they won't stop. This bus isn't going to stop until I'm like the others.
…
Edit 2:
I can feel them chewing into my skull. They're in my ears. I keep spitting them out. Please, someone get them off of me. Help me. I don't want to die at 17.
Edit 3:
Still alive. Still breathing. Maybe they're leaving me alone????? I think I'm okay. There is a pile of bugs at my feet, but they're crawling off of me.
Edit 4:
Levi really wants to go home. Like, he just told me he REALLY wants to go home. He's got a gift for his parents.
~~Edit 5 :) ~~
Levi is next to me right now, an odd smile on his face.
The bugs are not finished building him yet, but he'll be ready soon.
We will be ready soon.
Your son says hello! He is a wonderful boy, is he not?
Mr and Mrs Costella, I cannot wait for you to meet him.
He is our greatest achievement, and rest assured, you will give us what we want.
Warm regards.
The Cartwright's.

Hi all! I've never done this before so excuse any bad formatting, etc. This may be a long one, so buckle in.
This past weekend was a joint bachelobachelorette party for my fiancé (26m) and I (27f). We invited everyone in our bridal party (14 people) along with people's significant others. All together about 18 people came. The plan was to rent an Airbnb in a semi-local beach town and have everyone hangout, play games, and have fun. I'd been planning this for over a year. I booked the Airbnb, got all the decor, planned and purchased all the food- everything. I'm a planner, so I really didn't mind doing everything. My fiancé/best man/matron of honor would help when asked. Due to a few people coming from out of town we opted to make the bachelor(ette) party the weekend before our wedding to limit travel and costs (big mistake). Now that you've got the background, lets get into what happened.
The first day of events, my fiancé and I were among the first people awake. Normal for us, we're early birds. Not a problem. I decide to walk to the beach a few minutes away while I wait for everyone to wake up and get moving. I let my maid of honor know. She asks if I want to go to a coffee shop she'd visit with her family when she was a kid, I said no, there's coffee in the Airbnb if anyone wanted any and I was good. I just wanted to stick to the girls itinerary which was breakfast at the Airbnb (which was well stocked for anyone's taste in food), and then go to the beach and relax. The boys were doing something else that morning/afternoon.
I was at the beach for about 30 minutes when my fiancé showed up with his best man and a few groomsmen. They wanted to pop by, say hello, and hang for a sec before continuing on with their plans. After about 20 minutes, they said their goodbyes. I was there for another hour and no one else showed up, so I went back to the house. The house was just about empty. I looked around for a few minutes confused before I ran into a groomsman who told the girls all went to get coffee. I didn't get a call, text, nothing- and I was really upset. I felt like I got ditched at my own bachelorette party.
I decide to just do what I wanted to do at that point, there's an antique mall nearby so I went there to walk around. My fiancé called and I told him what happened. He was upset too and thought them leaving without a word was messed up. Around the same time, the girls got back to the house. Immediate freakout. I started getting a million calls and texts. My fiancé said they'd called him a bunch as well. But I just wasn't ready to talk. Eventually, I texted my sistematron of honor to let her know what was wrong and how I was feeling. She told everyone, unbeknownst to me at the time. I gave it about 20 minutes and headed back to the house. Overall, I wasn't even gone an hour.
When I got back I was so upset and everyone knew it. Everyone was sitting in the living room waiting for me and I just looked at them waiting for some kind of explanation. Then, my maid of honor says "Hi" in the most patronizing tone I've ever heard with a shit eating grin ear to ear. This is my best friend, so I'm not speculating motives here, I know her tones and habits, and how she acts, okay? When she did that, I knew the meaning behind it and I saw red. The silence after she said that was deafening. I just shook my head, said "fuck you guys" and beelined for the basement bathroom to get away and cool off.
My fiancé followed me down then, knocked on the door. I opened it and he comforted me while I was crying, then my sister came down to apologize. We had some back and forth, I said I didn't want to talk anymore. It's a pet peeve of mine for people to say sorry and expect it to automatically fix everything, so if someone says sorry followed by 'let's move on' or 'get over it', it really only makes the situation worse as I feel my feeling are invalidated. That happened a lot this day through several apologies. Rather than argue, I tell everyone I want to be left alone a while and go to my room. I read my book for a bit and talk to my fiancé about what's going on. However, despite my pleas for space. My maid of honor kept pushing. She kept knocking on the door despite me telling her to stop and again using the most infuriating, patronizing tone as she spoke to me. Picture a teacher correcting a child's behavior- kinda like that.
My fiancé told the girls I wanted space AGAIN as he went out to get a few more members of the bridal party who were just arriving and needed help finding parking. Maid of honor took this as an opportunity to try and speak to me again. Pounding on my door, again I said to leave me alone and I needed space. She kept pushing a present on me that all the girls had put together, but it was really not a good time so I said no. She didn't take no for an answer and my mistake was not locking the door. She came in the small room and closed the door behind her. I said leave, I don't want to talk, etc etc. SHE INSISTED ON STAYING. Using the same tone- I lost it. As my fellow anxiety girlies may know, there's nothing like being cornered to throw you into a panic attack. All of my friends know I have anxiety and most of them can relate themselves. On top of that I am ALWAYS clear in openly communicating how I feel and what I want. Again, I tell her to leave, she won't. So I try to. I shit you not, she throws herself in front of the door, I tell her to move again. She can see how I'm starting to react and finally moves, but it's too late. I run out the back door of the house and find my fiancé as I'm in a full blown panic attack. Can't breathe, sobbing, the works. I talk to him and a few other people as someone gets me water and they calm me down.
After that point, I think people got the hint to back off for a while. I was taken back to my room where I locked the door and read my book for a while to chill out. My fiancé went off to do the plans he'd had with the guys. After a little bit, I started to calm down and began getting ready for the day. I did my hair and makeup, got a cute outfit on and was fully ready for our lunch reservation. I was ready to put everything behind us. I finally left my room and went to the kitchen to get something to drink. I stood there drinking my drink and chatting with a few people who were already in the kitchen, they asked me how I was feeling- All was good. Then, the coffee group walks in. Silence. One of the girls I was already with tries to break the ice by saying we should take Jell-o shots. Okay- great. We start passing them around and I jokingly say to the coffee girls, "Here you guys get these ones" (the ones we'd all unfortunately noticed were too strong the day before). I promise you guys, this was obviously a joke- I and everyone were giggling and we all started opening the little plastic cups. But of course, it couldn't just be over then, my maid of honor says "So what is this like our punishment?" I say, no and am confused as fuck because I thought this was about to blow over. She say's "Why" and I say "Why what" and she just keeps saying why until she absolutely blows up and goes OFF on me. She starts getting all red faced and yelling at me saying I had no right to be mad because I said I didn't want coffee and I wanted to be alone. Never did I say I wanted to be alone- ever. Why would I want that at my own bachelorette party? (Well, before the drama at least).
Then it turns to an all out screaming match between her and I as we try to talk over each other and make our points. Everyone else apologized and it was fine, but she kept insisting she did nothing wrong or giving a back handed apology. Think Tom Sandoval from VPR- lots of 'but's. Eventually it got to a point where she was in my face screaming and crying and I was just in absolute disbelief. The argument ended abruptly when another bridesmaid (a mutual friend of ours) grabbed maid of honor and led her upstairs. They packed their things and left. After that- everything simmered down relatively quickly. Everyone came back to the house and we cooked lunch, it was fine. The whole thing left a bit of a cloud over the party, but it was fading.
But there have been more developments since. The bridesmaid who showed up in the midst of all of the drama showed me a text she'd gotten after announcing her arrival in the group chat. It said something along the lines of "Hi welcome- we're all in exile right now". She didn't even have the number saved, but it was maid of honor who had left. At this point she'd already texted me an apology so I was just like- wow. I wondered what else she'd said to help blow this situation up or make people feel some type of way. In no way was anyone exiled. I made it clear I wanted my space and everyone else was nice and conversing per usual. No polarization, no divided house, nothing. Maid of honor offered to come back to the party, but I did not respond. The day went on and everything was fine.
That is until I woke up the next day. I got a text from the bridesmaid who left with maid of honor, saying she was dropping out as a bridesmaid. A week before the wedding. She had not said a word to me before that, and I hadn't said anything to her. I thought she'd left just to help maid of honor whose car wasn't there because she'd driven with me. I was very surprised, but what she said made me feel fine about the situation. She was really cold and for that reason I was almost glad she'd decided to drop out. She'd made the decision without even speaking to me, so whatever. Fine then- my wedding is in 5 days and I'm just in damage control and can't worry about it. It was just strange that she was dropping out while the one I was arguing with, maid of honor, was actively wanting to be reincluded. I told maid of honor she could still be included, we've been friends for years and this was not something that happened often (maybe because she lives in a different state but still). I've had to make adjustments and losing a bridesmaid is going to be around $600 out of my pocket, but none the less, things seemed resolved.
That was until, I started getting more perspectives on the situation. I wasn't asking around but I think a lot of people just wanted to talk about it because the whole thing was really shocking. Basically, I now have learned that maid of honor actually told people I was waiting for them at the coffee shop and full out lied. And that she also yelled at the groomsman who told me where the girls had gone saying he should have lied. It's all so WEIRD. I thought typing it out would provide some clarity but I am just so confused. I'm fine with the bridesmaid having dropped out, I think our friendship over, but everything happens for a reason and I'm moving on. But I can't help but wonder if maid of honor planted some seeds there.... It's hard to believe my best friend would do this kind of thing intentionally but the evidence is mounting.
Everyone aside from the bridesmaid that dropped out and maid of honor have said I was totally in the right and the situation was crazy. I'm afraid they're just gassing me up because the wedding is so close and I'm the bride. So here I am asking for an outsiders perspective-
What do I do? How do I proceed? Am I the asshole?

Seriously, don't even attempt to trivialize it. It's not about waking you up at 3:00 am for mundane reasons like running out of milk or needing your Wi-Fi password. This entity, whatever it may be, operates outside our reality's bounds, and its motives are far from benign. I learned this the hard way recently, which is why I'm cautioning you all against making light of it. But before delving into specifics, let me offer some context, as sleep paralysis is a recent phenomenon for me.
One of my earliest memories of sleep disruption traces back to my grade school days. With my mother on an early shift unable to drive me to school for its 8:00 am start, she would drop me off at my aunt's house. Here, she ensured I was fed, dressed, and ready for school. Most mornings, I had just about an hour left to sleep before needing to rise. Often, I'd find myself in a half-asleep state from the moment my mom roused me until she tucked me into my aunt's spare bedroom.
On one of those mornings, as I lay down, teetering between wakefulness and sleep, I experienced a peculiar sensation. It felt as though my body began to rise, hovering about two feet above the bed, before swiftly plummeting back down. Startled awake, I assumed my mother had thrown me back onto the bed, only to find the room empty upon opening my eyes.
I hadn't encountered any other experiences quite like that, but it was during this time that I distinctly recall a notable surge in the frequency of the nightmares I was experiencing. The nightmares were generally the same, some cloaked being hiding in the recesses of my vision, always there, always watching. I felt as though each passing night terror that it got closer and closer to me, but always just out of reach. At times, I found myself trapped in a dark room, enveloped by an overwhelming sense of malevolence that seemed to saturate the air—and a fear entirely foreign to my waking experiences.
Then I experienced sleep paralysis for the first time.
It occurred at my mother's house, marking the initial instance where I experienced the sensation of my body being effectively immobilized while my mind remained active. I recall attempting to move my eyes and then my body, but all efforts were futile. As I struggled to regain autonomy, it sounded as though a gathering had convened in my kitchen, voices carrying in muted tones. None of the which resembled those of my parents; I even detected snickering and laughter at one point. The conversation seemed to be aimed at me, as my name was uttered several times, yet the other words remained indecipherable. The episode concluded with me returning to sleep without any further disturbances.
As the instances of sleep paralysis became more frequent, they culminated in another peculiar experience. Shortly after moving into my first apartment, still in the midst of unpacking and assembling furniture, the second incident occurred. I lay on a mattress on the floor, surrounded by unassembled bedframe pieces, when I awoke to find myself imprisoned within my own body once more. In the darkness, I heard a faint sound—a presence moving softly over each piece of furniture. Panic gripped me as I strained to turn my head towards the noise, but every effort proved futile. With each passing moment, the unseen entity drew closer until it reached the bedside. Helpless, I closed my eyes, bracing myself for whatever awaited.
Meow?
Relief washed over me as I realized it was just my generously proportioned feline friend making his way around the room. I could hear him moving about, stepping on more furniture and emitting a few disgruntled meows, presumably chastising my laziness for not assembling it yet. As I began to drift back to sleep, I was abruptly startled awake by a chilling sound.
Snnn-orrrff
A primal, guttural snarl pierced the silence, its menacing resonance echoing through the room like a thunderous roar. I struggled desperately to move my limbs, silently screaming in my mind, yet only managing a feeble whimper as I sensed the beast drawing near. Despite my efforts, my body only twitched, while in my imagination, I leapt up and fled. As a mischievous chuckle erupted, I felt hot, pungent breath on the back of my neck. I suddenly awoke, screaming, kicking and punching. I jerked my head to the side and was met only with darkness. I jumped up and turned the light on, a quick scan of the room revealed there was nothing there. Exhausted and recognizing my inability to function effectively, I reluctantly resigned myself to lying back down with the light on until morning. I called into work, knowing that in my current state, I wouldn't be of much use to anyone.
Days passed and soon, it was that time of the month again for my regular check-in from mom. I hesitantly answered the call. After a few minutes of conversation, we eventually broached the topic of my sleep paralysis.
"Honey, it's probably all the stress." she reasoned.
My job had me grinding away tirelessly, but despite my efforts, all I got was a tiny bump in pay. To add to the mix, my landlord decided it was the perfect time to raise the rent. It's safe to say, the stress was really getting to me. "I don't know, it's been happening my whole life, Dad ever had any issues with sleep?"
There was a noticeable pause as she contemplated her reply. "He's definitely had his share of nightmares, he'd wake me up a lot of the times, poor thing would be in tears."
"Jeez, I never knew, but Mom I gotta…" I endeavored to conclude the conversation, as my allotted chat time was expiring, however my mother promptly interrupted me.
"Sweetie, why won't you join us at church? It might help?"
I released a sigh. I staunchly opposed the notion of going to church; I'd rather watch a documentary on the history of paperclips. "Thanks, but I'm not feeling that right now."
"Please, just do it for me?" She pleaded.
Eager to bring the call to a close. "I'll think about, but, alright I'm going to go ahead a hop off here."
"Alright, I miss you, call me later okay?"
"I will, love you, bye."
I concluded the call with a sigh of relief, grateful for its conclusion.
For a stretch, life seemed to fall into place: My job noticed the disparity between my increased workload and pay and offered me a new position that significantly improved my financial situation. Thanks to this new position, I crossed paths with my wife, and we swiftly eloped. She was one of the top account managers, earning a substantial income, which enabled us to afford a nice house together. During this period, the night terrors and bouts of sleep paralysis took a hiatus, granting me a reprieve. Yet amidst the tranquility, a gnawing sense of foreboding lingered, as if a tempest loomed on the horizon, urging me to savor the calm while it lasted.
During this period, my wife and I had been eagerly anticipating the arrival of our first child. We were overjoyed as she reached the sixth month of her pregnancy, carrying our long-awaited daughter. However, my suspicions proved tragically correct. I'll never forget the heart-wrenching phone call from my wife, her voice choked with tears, informing me of the terrifying sight of blood. Hastening to the emergency room, we raced against time, but our efforts proved futile. We lost our precious daughter that day. The journey back home was a blur, engulfed in a suffocating sense of loss that seemed to consume us both. It felt as though a part of me had died alongside our daughter, and the profound grief only served to widen the chasm between us as time passed, transforming our once intimate bond into a hollow semblance of what it once was.
Sleep paralysis and nightmares began to resurface, as if some malevolent force was exploiting my already troubled state, and my ability to sleep dwindled. Additionally, minor habits and disparities in the early stages of our marriage, once insignificant, began escalating into cataclysmic arguments. By now, I'm certain even my breathing would agitate my wife. Despite experimenting with various medications, none proved effective. Even vigorous physical exercise failed to exhaust me enough for uninterrupted sleep. The situation escalated to the point where my wife banished me from the bedroom due to my incessant tossing and turning, disrupting her rest. Consequently, I found myself relegated to the couch. Resorting to alcohol became a regular occurrence, partly to numb the discomfort of the couch but also as a means of coping with my grief.
We barely conversed, even though she mentioned marriage counseling, I rebuffed the idea, convinced it wouldn't benefit us. Frequently, I'd discover her in tears, cradling the sonogram of our daughter, yet I would quietly withdraw, allowing her solitary moments of sorrow. She had her unique methods of grieving, just as I had mine.
"I can't keep doing this, we're drowning in debt, and you're just pushing us further into it with every bottle." She pointed to the glass in my hand.
"Oh, come on! I work hard for us, I deserve to unwind a bit!" In a moment of animated expression, I inadvertently spilled some of my beverage onto the floor.
"Unwind? You call draining our savings and neglecting our future 'unwinding'!?"
"Look, just let me sleep in my own bed tonight."
She crossed her arms, and for a moment, silence enveloped us before she finally spoke.
"I just—I feel like I'm living with a stranger." Her eyes begin to shimmer with emotion.
"I'm here, aren't I? What more do you want from me?!" My voice rising in volume.
She attempted to delicately take my drink away, her touch then shifting to gently grasp my hand. "I want us to be a team again, not just two people sharing a bed."
But the moment I felt her touch, I instinctively shoved her hands away from me. "We haven't been a 'team' since we lost—" My voice quivered, then exploded into rage. "You pushed me out! You did this! You don't talk to me about anything anymore! Just get the hell out!" I pointed to the door.
I stood in the open doorway, watching her car pull out of the driveway. With a final sip, I closed the door behind me. Met with silence, I sensed the weight of tension hanging heavy in the air. Deciding one more bourbon was in order, I made my way to the kitchen, intent on pouring myself one last drink. In a bid to ensure a restful night, I opted to accompany my indulgence in alcohol with a hefty dosage of sleeping pills. A reckless choice, I'm aware, but perhaps death was in fact the ultimate form of slumber. I settled onto the couch, flicking through channels until my libation was drained. Feeling sufficiently relaxed, I decided it was time for bed. Ascending the stairs, I stumbled and collapsed onto the master bedroom's mattress. Sleep enveloped me swiftly that night, yet trouble was never far behind.
I recall waking during the night and noticing that the hallway light remained illuminated. It struck me as odd since I distinctly remember switching it off before retiring to bed. However, given my inebriated state from the copious amounts of alcohol I had consumed, I surmised that I must have simply forgotten. I'd just get up and switch it off, but a wave of unease washed over me. Despite my intentions, I found myself paralyzed, trapped within my own body once again. I found myself transfixed on the door, illuminated by the soft glow seeping in from the hallway. In that moment, I discerned a shadowy figure lurking behind the door.
I hoped it was my wife, but a gut feeling told me otherwise; this time felt different, suffocated by an eerie malevolence. The doorknob rattled violently, as if something were struggling to open it. Yet, amidst the noise I caught a sinister snicker. The relentless jiggling of the doorknob reached a fever pitch, threatening to wrench it free from its socket at any instant. Then, as abruptly as it began, the tumult ceased, leaving an ominous silence hanging in the air. The door then creaked open with a slow, foreboding motion.
A sinister, shapeless presence loomed in the doorway, defying gravity as it hovered above the ground, its shadowy form exaggerated by the eerie glow seeping in from the hallway. I whimpered, struggling to stir my limbs in a futile attempt to awaken my body, but they responded only with slight twitches. My gaze remained fixed on the form before me, immobilized by fear. Suddenly, a sinuous appendage extended from the specter's face, resembling a long, black tentacle. It elongated and snaked toward me, prompting me to instinctively shut my eyes. Sensing its proximity, I remained frozen, an icy chill grazed my forehead, jolting me awake in an instant. Sleep eluded me for the rest of the night, so I opted for an early morning, brewing a pot of coffee to chase away the lingering unease.
For the following weeks, my routine remained monotonous: work, microwave dinner, then numbness induced by sleeping pills and bourbon until I could no longer keep my eyes open. I received a text from my mother-in-law stating that my wife wanted to reconcile, but insisted on therapy and my attendance at AA meetings. I refused, firmly convinced that all I desired was to reclaim my bed, and that her reaction was excessive. I contended that the alcohol provided comfort, a gesture I hadn't received from her in quite some time. My mother-in-law and wife were both displeased with my response; it became apparent that divorce was now the inevitable solution.
At this juncture, I experienced sleep paralysis on a daily basis, even in the absence of the entity. Each night, I would awaken multiple times, unable to move, only freeing myself to find dread awaiting the next episode upon returning to sleep. There was one rare night when I slept soundly, only to be abruptly awakened by a late-night call from an old friend. We had a bond stretching back to our middle school days, and were inseparable back then. However, this call wasn't one of nostalgia; it was about money. He needed a bailout for his mortgage, promising a swift repayment.
I moved to the edge of my bed, frustration mounting as I started to rub my forehead. "I can't, I just can't right now, I need to get back to sleep good—"
He interrupted me. "Please, I don't want to lose the house."
I found myself raising my voice in frustration as irritation crept in. It appeared he was wholly incapable of learning from his mistakes. "Look, it isn't my responsibility to bail you out every time you're in trouble!"
"I know, I know, please, at least do it for Eli, Chelsea left me all alone and it's been hard man." His voice starting to crack.
My voice raising to a near scream; "He isn't my responsibility either! You should have been careful! I told you she wasn't good for you and you didn't listen! Sort your own shit out from now on!"
I ended the call and slammed the phone onto my nightstand. So much for a good night's rest, thanks a lot, friend.
As my life spiraled further into chaos, I realized I needed to explore solutions beyond relying on alcohol and sleeping pills to combat sleep paralysis. Perhaps a spiritual approach was necessary. While I knew my mother would be pleased with this consideration, I'm certain what I had in mind would be vehemently discouraged. My mother firmly believed in the existence of demons, warning against interacting with them outside of 'God's protection'. Perhaps she was right, but I grew desperate for a solution. At this stage, I was willing to do anything for peace of mind, regardless of the consequences. So, I concocted a masterful plan:
I'd simply ask it what it would take to make it stop.
Each morning was fraught with dread, pondering whether the entity would manifest itself. I ensured to kickstart my day with a potent drink, maintaining a steady buzz throughout, perhaps to stave off any wavering doubts about my decision. My patience bore fruit one fateful night as I found myself immobilized once more.
This marked the initial instance when the entity directly addressed me, and its words seared into my memory with chilling permanence. It uttered abhorrent, repulsive, unfathomable insults about me, branding me a failure, devoid of worth, as insignificant as a microbe. It dissected my existence, critiquing my choices, appearance, and demeanor with a cruelty I had never encountered. It seemed to possess an uncanny ability to strike at the core of my being, as if it wielded a weapon honed to annihilate my spirit. And then, its merciless laughter echoed relentlessly.
In that moment, I recognized it as my opportunity to retort. However, the barrage of insults stoked a fire within me, igniting a fury that overpowered my intentions. What did this entity presume to know about me? It was entirely mistaken, and that infuriated me. Against my better judgment, fueled by indignation, I deviated from my plan and impulsively blurted out: "What's so damn funny?!"
As the words echoed in my mind, the laughter abruptly ceased, leaving behind an eerie silence. Relief flooded through me as I dared to hope that I had put an end to the ordeal. Yet, my premature celebration was cut short when an indescribable dread enveloped me. A black ichor oozed onto the floor beside my bed, signaling the beginning of a hellish spectacle. From the viscous sludge, a dark figure emerged, coated in sticky tar, yet defying gravity as it ascended, hovering above the ground.
Above me, it loomed, its weighty presence palpable as thick sludge cascaded onto the bed, it halted directly over me. Its head inclined, scrutinizing me with unseen gaze. Tears welled in my eyes, hot and unrestrained, as I braced for the inevitable embrace of death. The figure gradually descended, its feet pressing into my chest with an icy chill coursing through me. As its waist aligned with my sternum, a frigid sensation enveloped me. With a swift motion, it plunged its hand into my chest, seizing my heart, and darkness consumed my senses.
I felt a terrifying pull downward, as if gravity itself had gone haywire. My stomach churned with a sickening weightlessness, reminiscent of a plummeting elevator. As my descent abruptly halted, the sound of wind rushing in my ears gave way to a sudden explosion—a resounding burst, resembling the opening of a parachute. That's when I sensed something coiling around my waist, though invisible to my eyes. Desperate to break free, I reached out, only to recoil in horror as my fingers brushed against scaly, rough skin.
Simultaneously, the air filled with the echoing beat of what seemed like enormous wings, while I experienced the unsettling sensation of being lifted and dropped. Though I had a suspicion about what gripped me, disbelief held me back from fully acknowledging it. So, resigned, I surrendered to my captor's will, allowing them to transport me to an unknown destination. As the darkness yielded, a faint glow emerged beneath us—a jagged line emanating an eerie orange-red light. The creature descended, revealing a sight that churned my stomach: bubbling lava. Its faint glow barely illuminated what seemed to be a cavern.
As I descended further into the cavern's depths, the beast veered close enough for me to sense the searing warmth of the lava beneath my feet. Gradually, our descent stabilized, and my gaze shifted forward, revealing a massive door-like structure. Its design echoed the grandeur of ancient Gothic architecture, adorned with pointed arches and intricate buttresses. The edifice appeared crafted from a peculiar variety of marble, possessing a beauty tinged with an unsettling aura. Its construction defied convention, evoking a sense of unease; never before had anything been wrought in such a manner.
As the creature descended once more, carrying me firmly, we passed through the doorway, revealing the true scale of the chamber. Beyond the threshold, a vast expanse unfolded, illuminated by a solitary spherical light source, casting an unsettlingly dim glow upon a colossal, otherworldly mechanism. It resembled a colossal pillar, stretching upward into the darkness of the cavern, its details obscured by the dim light. Within its intricate workings, gears, wheels, and chains rotated at a languid pace. Amidst this mechanical labyrinth, my attention was drawn to a swirling mass of gray at the base of the mechanism, slowly undulating. The beast appeared to be steering us directly toward it.
As we drew nearer, we sailed past what appeared to be a platform, upon which perched a colossal beast. Its form resembled that of a massive reptilian creature, akin to what one might envision as a dinosaur. Yet, it stood upright on two legs, its powerful limbs chained firmly to the platform. With each short, sharp inhalation, it unleashed a deafening roar that reverberated through every fiber of my being. I couldn't help but notice the protrusion of its jugular vein, roughly the size of my upper thigh, expanding with each thunderous cry. As we approached the swirling mass of gray, a sudden wave of horror washed over me as I comprehended its true nature.
A sea of people.
I observed that they were all bound together by chains, encircling their arms, legs, and necks. These chains converged at the towering pillar, linking each individual to the mechanism. The mass of people moved in a circular motion, driving the turning of the cogs. Their pallid complexion suggested an absence of life, as if all vitality had been drained from them. Their agonized screams pierced the air, mouths devoid of tongues. I witnessed an individual collapse to their knees, only to be forcefully yanked upright by some unseen power, rest was an elusive notion in this place. To my horror, amidst the throng of young adults and the elderly, I saw children swept along by the relentless current of the crowd.
As the creature positioned me amidst the multitude, I pleaded desperately, but it was futile; the chains had already ensnared me. With each movement of the mass of people, I felt the tug on my own chain, pressed in on all sides without an inch of space to spare. The towering figures around me obscured any view beyond their heads, leaving me engulfed in a sea of bodies.
My voice pierced the chaotic symphony of screams, rising in a desperate plea for escape.
"Please! I don't belong here! I just wanted to sleep, this is a mistake!"
As I cried out, the orb of light began to shift, seemingly in response to my desperate appeals. As it drew closer and closer, a sense of dread gripped me. Hovering ominously above, it revealed itself as a grotesque monstrosity, casting a sickly glow that chilled me to the bone. I fought the overwhelming urge to collapse, my knees weakening with each passing moment. What loomed overhead defied any attempt at human description; it resembled a cluster of intertwining tubes, swirling and spiraling in a mesmerizing dance that transcended the bounds of reality. Bathed in a sickly blue light that pulsed like molten lava beneath its tendrils.
The light wrought a profound transformation within me, granting a clarity of self-awareness unlike anything I had ever known. In its piercing illumination, I was confronted with the raw truth of my being, stripped of illusion or denial. It was a sobering revelation, an awakening to the most authentic understanding of myself I had ever experienced.
I belonged here.
I had systematically driven away my friends, neglecting their presence and refusing to open up to them. Even my own mother's attempts at connection felt burdensome, our conversations reduced to mere obligations. But perhaps the greatest tragedy lay in the chasm that had formed between my wife and me—a divide entirely of my own making. I was the architect of my own downfall, responsible for the ruin of my life, with no one else to blame but myself. Every word the entity had uttered about me held a painful truth.
From this vantage point, my life appeared almost sweet in retrospect, bathed in the stark light of self-awareness. Yet, any semblance of hope quickly dissolved, for in this desolate realm, hope found no foothold, no sanctuary to thrive.
With my head bowed low, I trudged forward, the weight of my chain pulling me inexorably onward. In a moment of unprecedented vulnerability, I found myself offering a prayer. Despite my awareness that it would likely go unanswered, I embraced the grim reality of my fate, accepting it with a heavy heart.
God, have mercy on me…
Suddenly the sound of chains breaking shattered the air as I was yanked upward with astonishing velocity. In a sudden blur, the scene below shrank rapidly beneath me. The rush of wind buffeted me, and I sensed another presence, an arm wrapped around my waist. Clutching onto it tightly, I braced myself as the cavern's light faded into absolute darkness, squeezing my eyes shut against the unknown.
With a jolt, my rapid ascent came to an abrupt halt, my back colliding with something soft. Gradually, I realized I was back in the familiarity of my own bed. At the foot of the bed stood a figure, its features obscured by a radiant glow emanating from its form, resembling molten glass. The brilliance bathed the entire room in an ethereal light. For a fleeting moment, we locked gazes, suspended in a silent exchange. Then, as swiftly as it had appeared, the figure began to ascend, leaving my room cloaked once more in shadows.
I sat in silence for a while, grappling with the enormity of my experience. To dismiss it as a mere nightmare or hallucination would be a gross understatement; whatever transpired felt hauntingly more vivid and tangible than my current reality. It would take me months of introspection and contemplation to begin to make sense of it all, to reconcile the surreal with the mundane, and to find a semblance of peace within myself.
Although the experience didn't trigger an immediate transformation, its impact lingered, nudging me towards a path of change. Despite my ongoing struggle with alcohol addiction, I made a conscious decision to seek help. I began prioritizing regular hangouts with my best friend and even accompanied my mom to a few church visits. While I remained uncertain about my own connection to religion, witnessing her joy brought a sense of fulfillment that warmed my heart. In making her happy, I found a newfound source of happiness within myself.
As time passed, a sense of progress gradually infused my life. Achieving a year of sobriety marked a significant milestone on my journey, celebrated amidst the supportive community of AA. Even my wife took notice of my efforts towards self-improvement, leading us to embark on marriage counseling together. Before long, her return to our home signaled a hopeful new chapter in our relationship.
Not a trace of sleep paralysis had haunted me since that fateful night when I was guided from the depths of despair. I'm not entirely sure if it was an angel, or God, but whatever it was, it spared me, and for that, I'm grateful. And now, the most joyous news of all: my wife and I are expecting our first child next week. The doctors assure us of her perfect health, filling us with anticipation and gratitude. As for her name, I already have the perfect one in mind:
Grace

I've been debating posting on here for years but it's definitely time because my marriage is really going through it and I love my partner too much to watch us fall apart over something we can possibly fix with advice.
Please be kind and compassionate to all parties in the comments... This is not easy for anybody.
So I eloped with my husband at a concert a couple years ago and we have been very happy to be together since day 1. We really are that "omg you're adorable" couple and I absolutely love my step son (5) and he has an attachment to me and looks up to me a lot which is a total blessing but his mom is mentally ill I believe and the following details will illuminate that... Major ⚠️ trigger ⚠️ warning ⚠️
Okay... So for example she or her friends wrote a letter to our realtor once saying we throw dog poop over our fence like monkeys to get us to lose our animals. These were my service dogs in training and fur daughters so this haunts me to this day because we did end up losing them under threat of eviction and hefty fines we couldn't afford at the time so obviously we couldn't allow my 3 year old step son at the time to lose his home. Please don't judge me in the comments this is incredibly scarring and painful and I absolutely DID NOT want to let them go.
Another example is my step son comes home from his mom's family saying horrific things in the past about his mom wanting to "shoot me with a human gun" or how she and her friends laughed and joked about that in front of him or they talk about "killing dogs" in front of him even as far as to say "setting them on fire" DISGUSTING things you can only think about in horror movies.... Right. So he heard all of this and we have a good relationship and he tells me and I immediately report it to the police.
This is where a lot of the shit hit the fan and bio mom really blew a gasket. She called police falsely reporting my husband and I drowning my step son in a pool that we never owned in our backyard. She reported me leaving him in hot cars to DHS, etc. Chaos. We opened an investigation into the horrible things he was telling us which resulted in my husband being found for mental injury for openly worrying about his son asking him who said what where, etc. They are trying to say we coached this stuff into him and it's literally a shit show meanwhile my step son is in the middle of this.......
Okay.... So right now he's been taken away from my husband and I for over 45 days because bio mom pursued us on the DHS finding of mental injury that they somehow put on my husband for trying to "see something say something" essentially. I'm at a loss for words and truly disheartened traumatized and saddened by the system failing my family. I feel personally to blame for all the attacks based on them being initiated and unleashed because this bio mom can't stand that I live and breathe pretty much and it's literally that cruel blunt and cold kind of bone chilling reality and criminality that my beautiful men now have saddled on top of them because I made the unfortunate decision to fall in love when a high conflict mom didn't agree with it for lack of a better description.
I don't believe in divorce especially because I truly love my husband and he's literally the most wonderful person ever. I absolutely love my step son and I feel like that's practically illegal somehow after this experience (we've gotten lawyers cops and child services involved and practically begged for help and clarity found out the hard way that isn't how that works) and it's been devastating. Please only reach out if you have a similar experience or compassion for this situation. Please don't say I should leave when I love my husband and step son.
I simply want to know if anyone can relate or what you did in this scenario. Any understanding at all really would mean the cosmos to us.
Love and light.

PART 1 :
https://www.reddit.com/nosleep/comments/1c1fu8d/i_filmed_something_that_i_cant_explain/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web3x&utm_name=web3xcss&utm_term=1&utm_content=share_button
PART 2 :
https://www.reddit.com/nosleep/comments/1c2yziu/i_filmed_something_that_i_cant_explain_part_2/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web3x&utm_name=web3xcss&utm_term=1&utm_content=share_button
PART 3 :
https://www.reddit.com/nosleep/comments/1cnwpo2/i_filmed_something_that_i_cant_explain_part_3/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web3x&utm_name=web3xcss&utm_term=1&utm_content=share_button
PART 4 :
https://www.reddit.com/nosleep/comments/1copwms/i_filmed_something_that_i_cant_explain_part_4/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=web3x&utm_name=web3xcss&utm_term=1&utm_content=share_button
Last night, after posting the last update, I couldn’t find any sleep. Not only because that back seat was probably the less comfortable one on the car market, nor because Mark and Claire were talking loudly outside, or not even because, as heartwarming and comforting as Lucy’s presence besides me was, I hadn’t slept so close to someone in forever. No, I could have gotten over all this easily. But one thing was keeping me awake, running through my head endlessly. When Claire took me to the Doors Realm (that’s its name now), and that we encountered what was, just a few hours before, still an unknown man that helped me to get so far, I learned so many things.

At first, Claire recognized him as the man that captured Mark’s childhood classmate, Martin, 11 years ago, and that had locked him in his house for all this time, until a few days ago, Mark and she saved him. That man then explained to her that, since their last encounter, he had been stuck in this place and couldn’t find his door anymore. Upon further talking, they came to the conclusion that the beast that was hunting me in the Doors Realm was what was left of the entity that they thought they had destroyed: Vessel. But that he had got rid of his “human” part that was nowhere to be seen there, and without it, he was less smart, but he was also free of what allowed them to hurt him the first time. We then stumbled upon a door that had been forced and was slightly open. Claire succeeded to take a shot of the inside of the door thanks to my camera, that later revealed a young boy who Lucy recognized when she saw it as a patient in a youth psychiatric center in which she lately had an internship for her studies: Nicolas. Claire and Mark thought strongly that Vessel’s human part had took refuge in that boy. Our plan was now the following: Lucy and I would get in the center to talk to Nicolas, since she was authorized to enter it for school purposes, and try to figure things out.

But the thing that was really keeping me awake and thinking was this: while on the Doors Realm, the man had revealed to me that he was my biological father, and that it was the reason I was connected to that place as much: I was half like him. I couldn’t ask him more as we had to move fast. We didn’t mention that to Mark and Lucy when we got back, Claire understood that I probably didn’t want to say that right after learning about it.

That revelation had me wondering so many things. I never knew anything about my biological parents, I was left at the door of the orphanage where I spent most of my life when I was 1 year old. So many questions were popping in my head each seconds: who was my mom, where was she, why did they abandon me, what were the consequences of me being half like them… I didn’t even know where to begin… and this also meant that my real father had kidnapped a 9-year-old and kept him alive as his blood stock for years, and that was absolutely chilling to consider, and at the same time, I couldn’t get all the things he did to help me so far out of my head. All of it was so confusing.

“So, do you want to talk about it?”

I was brought out of my agitated mind by Lucy’s tired voice. She was lying behind me, and I turned to face her. I didn’t think our faces would be that close, our lips were probably 4/5 centimeters away from each other. I immediately told my mind to shut up and stop thinking about that.
Our eyes locked, I never noticed how deep the iris of her eyes were.

“I’m sorry, did I wake you up?” I asked her.

“No, I just can’t sleep.” She answered.

“Do you want to talk about it?” I returned her question.

She sighed.

“I hate it, but I gotta admit, this is a pretty creepy situation to be thrown in out of nowhere.”

“I’m so sorry I dragged you into this Lucy…” I felt bad.

“Don’t be, I kinda asked for it, I don’t regret it.”

“He’s my father.” I felt a sudden need to tell her about it. “At least that’s what he said, the man in the Doors Realm, Martin’s captor.”

She looked confused. I elaborated, making sure that she had the full picture. At the end, she stayed silent.

“What do you think about it?” I asked.

“That it’s just getting creepier.” She said.

That wasn’t a crazy answer, but surely not what I expected.

“How so?” I asked.

“Isn’t something really starts to bug you in all this?” She answered.

“I mean, yes, thousands, but…” I said, ironically.

“Yes of course, but, I mean, don’t you think everything is a bit too tied together? I mean, really, look at it: Mark ends up babysitting Claire, who’s affected by some vampire-curse, and haunted by an entity that seems at the center of the whole thing. She gives him the curse. They leave together to investigate about Mark’s dark secret and ends up saving his old classmate from a man that has the same condition as them and used him for years. They then fight the entity and hurt it so bad that it breaks itself apart from its human part, which somehow finds shelter in a boy that I, the neighbor of Mark’s “sexfriend”, already knew. And now, the man that held Martin captive happens to be the biological father of the hook-up of the ancient classmate of that same Martin he kidnapped. That classmate comes back to save him, and they end up locking the man in the Doors Realm, which will eventually lead him to encounter his daughter, you... I mean, the way all of us seem to be linked together, it rubs me the wrong way.”

I never thought of it until now. She was right, those constant connections tying everything together, it was creepy.

“I’m sorry you have to be involved, really.” I knew I was repeating myself, but I really felt guilty.

“Hey, I already told you it was okay, I chose this, you’re not responsible of my actions Sarah.” I felt her hand slowly touching mine under the thin plaid we shared. “Plus, it’s not all bad…”

“You can leave anytime you want Lucy. I won’t be mad you know…” I said.

“No, even with all that, I don’t want to, because, … God, that’s so hard to explain with words.”

I smiled. Despite all the confidence she had shown in the little thing that was slowly blooming between the two of us, she still had some difficulties at times, and I thought that was cute.

“It’s okay, I’m good at interpretation…” I said, encouraging her to share what she was feeling.

“The point is that I see it’s not just me. I feel your company, and I can’t fail to believe it’s not just me. I know you’re feeling the same way…” She whispered.

I had a little laugh.

“Are these song lyrics? Because it sounded like it.” I asked with a smile.

She had a embarrassed expression.

“I arranged them a little bit…” She said.

“And what song was it?”

“Ho I’ll never tell you!” She said laughing quietly.

I grabbed her hand, and she placed her other one on my cheek. It was soft. My eyes looked instinctively to the window. I saw Claire watching me with a small smile. Mark was still speaking, and she articulated silently a phrase that I could read on her lips: “We’re going to take a walk.” On that, she took Mark away from the car, and their voices faded away. I looked back to Lucy and our faces were now even closer than before. I won’t elaborate here, that’s not the place, I’ll just say that her lips and all of her skin were soft and that, with all my experiences so far, I still never felt that way before with anyone.

I finally found some sleep.

We both woke up today to the voices of Mark and Claire. They were ready to go and, after reviewing one last time the plan together, we started driving. Approximately an hour later, we arrived at the center. Lucy and I got out of the car, Mark and Claire would be waiting for us on the parking lot.

Lucy took the lead, and we passed each door without problem. Arrived at the main room, we didn’t had to look for Nicolas for long. He was sitting alone at a table, drawing. We approached him and sat on each side. Lucy made me a sign to tell me that she should probably speak first for now. She took a soft and calm voice.

“Hello Nicolas.” She said.

“Hi! Who are you?” He immediately said, staring at us.

“We are here to talk to you, we just want to chat a little bit, if that’s okay.” Lucy continued calmly.

“Sure, that’s cool. What you wanna talk about?” He was speaking carefree.

“Well, first, do you think you could tell me about why you’re here?” She asked.

Nicolas leaned towards us and whispered.

“I have a special friend.” He said, with a little proud smile. He then changed to an annoyed face. “My parents, the doctors, they don’t like him…”

“Do you know who he is?” Lucy whispered back, mimicking his behavior. I was a bit impressed by how good and effective she was at talking with him.

“Not really, he never tells me his name. But he’s so funny!”. He said happily.

“And how do you talk with him?”

He pointed his head and winked to us.

“Right there, he’s here! He says he can’t find his door, I don’t really understand that, so, sometimes, I allow him to use mine, just a bit, because, when we’re doing that, I’m in a dark place, and sometimes I hear scary noise, so he never do it long…”

“You know, I think we already know your friend… His name is Vessel. I don’t know how it works between you two, but he needs to know that he’s not safe. And, if we could talk to him for just a little time, we could help him… do you think you could do that?”

He had a scared look.

“I can feel he wants to come right now, he wants to talk to you too.” He stayed silent for a moment. “Not too long, okay?”

Suddenly, his expression changed. He looked terrified. He stared at us.

“Hello misses. I don’t understand, why do you say I’m in danger?” His voice was shaking, but also very formal.

Lucy looked at me a bit lost, clearly expressing that it was now my turn.

“Hello Vessel. Well, you can’t stay in Nicolas, it’s not safe, you should…” I stopped when I saw that Lucy was looking me dead in the eye with that exact expression: (=_=). I understood that I probably wasn’t very smart in my approach. She took the lead again, which I thought was probably a better choice anyway.

“Listen Vessel, we’re here to help you. What we said is true, you’re not completely safe in there. I know you feel better, but, it’s not safe, Nicolas’s door didn’t close, and don’t you think it’s a bit unfair for Nicolas?”

“You’re probably correct…” said Vessel.

“But listen, we’re not going to ask you to just leave, no, we’ll find a solution together, okay? But for that, we’ll need you to join us.” Lucy said.

“How can I do that? I don’t want to go back to the dark place, there’s the beast, and, if she gets back, I’ll be mean and alone again…”

Lucy thought for a moment.

“Well, you’re gonna wait at the door, and when you’ll hear 3 knocks on the other side, you’ll go out, it will be us, so you won’t be alone, and we’ll find a solution, okay?” She asked.

“You will be here?” He asked, pointing his finger to Lucy.

“Well, Sarah here, and another friend will.” She said.

Vessel looked worried, but he accepted. We then instructed him to let Nicolas back in. Lucy explained to Nicolas that he was going to lose his friend, but that everything will be better and that he’ll be safer.

We left the center after that. We got back to the car and explained what happened to Mark and Claire. Claire agreed to take us back to the Doors Realm, as we were convinced that the key to solve all this was there, and that now that we had access to that new part of Vessel, this could be the moment to fix everything. We drove to an isolated place on the side of a lonely road.

Claire and I were getting ready to enter the Doors Realm when Lucy made a request.

“I want to come with you… I have to!” She was a bit hesitating but decided.

“Why is that?” Asked Claire.

“Vessel, or, we could call him young Vessel, well, he’s scared, terrified even. You two, I don’t think you’ll be great at dealing with him, but I think I can help. If I’m there, he’ll be way more trusting I think.” She was speaking with confidence. From what I saw at the center earlier, she had a point.

“Do you think you can make it?” Mark asked Claire.

“I should be able to, I’m more worried about her… Lucy, I can take you there, but you’ll be in more danger than us. You’re entirely human, you’re not supposed to go there in the first place, so I think that you’ll be way more affected if something gets to you in any way.” Claire said.

“It’s okay, just, send me back here if there’s any risk of me getting hurt.”

“Fine, so, are you two readies then?”

Lucy and I nodded yes. Claire gave a look to Mark, and he nodded too. The three of us held hands and closed our eyes.

A few seconds later, we were back in the hallway of my foster home, like each time before. I knew I was going to hear it at any moment, my foster dad calling me downstairs. Claire and Lucy both already saw that memory play out in some way. Lucy immediately held my hand.

“Sarah, …” Claire didn’t know what to say.

We heard it. “Sarah, daddy needs your help, come down here.” It sent chills down my spine.

“Sarah, we can just leave, okay?” Said Claire.

But when she tried to open the front door, it was unmovable. I knew what it was.

“Claire, I think we can’t leave the house until the memory plays out.” I said.

“Well, then, we can just wait here, can’t we? You don’t have to face it.” Said Lucy.

“Stay there, you two, I’m going to fix this.” I said. I felt confident, more than ever before.

“But Sarah…” Claire started.

“Only come if I ask you to, in case something wrong happens.”

With that, I headed towards the stairs to the basement. His voice kept calling me: “ Come on, faster, Daddy needs you.” I slowly walked down the stairs, each steps getting me closer to the moment that followed me for years. I finally walked down the last step. He was standing there, with his awful smile, just like that day.

“Come closer, I have to show you something.” He said.

I looked at him. Now, in front of him, I wasn’t scared anymore, all I felt was sadness, pride and pity. Pity of seeing this fucked up man that had hurt so many children, and that was probably still living with the guilt and the loneliness that came with it, sadness of having been one of the children that he hurt so deeply, but pride of also having been the one to expose him, preventing so many other children that could have followed me.

“No.” I said.

His expression became annoyed.

“Is that what you said to Lucy?” He said.

I closed my eyes, and images of last night flashed in my head. I knew he just gave me the strength to beat him. I opened them and slowly walked towards him. He smiled and opened his arms. I put my hands on his chest and he looked surprised. I looked him in the eyes.

“I’m sorry for you, but from now on, you’ll really be alone… Cause I’m not scared of you, you don’t define me.” I said calmly.

With that, he disappeared, and with him, the whole house faded. Soon we were in the dark space. Lucy and Claire looked at me, concerned.

“I’m good.” I said. I turned my head to Lucy. “I promise.”

We walked around for a few minutes, looking for Nicola’s broken door. We knew it wasn’t appearing as easily as the other ones. Eventually, we encountered the man that captured the Martin, the one who told me he was my biological father. He looked at us.

“You’re there! Did you find a plan?” He asked, out of breath.

“The beginning of one…” Said Claire.

“How much time will it take you?”

“Why?” Asked Claire.

“He’s really not far, I’ve been running away from him, you can’t take too much time or…”

He was cut off by a loud scream. The beast, Vessel’s violent and cruel part, was already close. Immediately, we could see it running towards us. If we didn’t move fast, he’ll get us, but we had to find Nicola’s door. The man looked at us with a panicked face, which slowly morphed into a desperate one. He looked down and whispered a few words to himself. He lifted his head and looked right at me.

“Your mom’s name is Debby, and she’s the sweetest person I ever knew.” He said. He then turned his head to Claire. “Whatever it is that you have to do, do it now.”

He turned to face the beast that was approaching, running on all fours, and started to head towards it. He soon found himself in front of it and it immediately pierced his chest with its long claws. The man screamed of pain, and shouted one last thing to us: “Come on, do your thing!” I realized I didn’t know his name.

The three of us started to run randomly, looking all around for Nicola’s door while the beast was taking care of the man. At some point, Lucy shouted.

“Is that it?”

She was pointing Nicola’s Door. Claire and I came to her. Then, Claire started to walk slowly towards the door. We knew we had to move fast, as the man will eventually stop interesting the beast, but we also knew that if we weren’t careful, the door would disappear. Claire finally reached the door and knocked 3 times. We had to wait a few seconds before the door started to open. A young boy, probably 8 years old, covered in stains, he was very dirty, and dressed with clothes that looked like they were from another time came from it. It was young Vessel. He looked terrified when he saw the beast in the distance. He then saw that Lucy was there and ran to hug her. Claire took care of closing the door behind him, that then disappeared. He was staying close from Lucy and looked at us.

“Hey, we’re going to find a solution, okay.” Said Lucy.

“Who’s the little lady?” He said, pointing to Claire.

Claire had an annoyed look.

“A friend, alright?” She said with a very dry tone.

“And what is this now?”” I asked. Some sort of old cabin made of wood had appear close from us.

All of us looked at it, trying to recognize something from any of our own memories, but it didn’t ring any bell. That’s when young Vessel had a little gasp.

“Ho, no, no no no, we shouldn’t go there.” He said. His voice was shaking as he grasped to Lucy’s leg stronger.

“Why is that? Do you know what this is?” Asked Claire, clearly not wanting to waste too much time.

Young Vessel looked at Lucy, who nodded to him. He looked at Claire again.

“It’s the old woman’s house, it’s dangerous, I don’t want to go back misses…”

Claire approached him slowly.

“What happened there, do you remember?” She asked him.

He hid a bit more behind Lucy.

“It was a long time ago, I think, I don’t remember… I know mother told me not to go in the forest alone, I shouldn’t have, I know, I’m very sorry. But I went, and then, I saw the house. I got inside, I thought it was abandoned. I touched a few things, but not too much, I swear… But the old woman, she was there, I didn’t know she was living there, but she saw me, and then she asked me if I had friends, but I didn’t so I told her I did not, and she asked me a lot of questions, and she started to say weird things. I felt weird, it hurt. And then I got here, in this scary place. I could never open my own door, and I was all alone, and it was horrible. But then, not long ago, my door finally reopened, and I saw 2 people that I didn’t recognize, but they left fast. After that, my door cracked and exploded, and the beast came out of it. It was scary, and I ran until I found Nicola’s door… So, it’s dangerous inside…”

All of us looked at each other wondering what to do. Lucy looked to him.

“Well, if it all started there, maybe we can solve everything there too, don’t you think?” She said. “And we’ll be with you, so, you won’t be alone…”

He looked a bit worried, as Claire seemed clearly eager to move. He eventually accepted and we all started to walk towards the cabin. We walked the few steps. The wood was rotten, covered in moss and lichen in places. Claire opened the door, and we got inside. It was filthy, dark, the only light coming from the dirty windows, which was weird, as it was supposed to be dark outside. Looking at it again, we could see a forest at daytime on the other side of the glass. We waited in silence for a few seconds, wondering when something will happen. It didn’t take long.

All of sudden, a closet located at the back of the room opened slowly. We could see an old hand with thin fingers and dirty nails holding it from the inside. All of us got closer to each other. A deep and heavy breath was suddenly heard coming from the inside of that closet. The door opened more, revealing an old lady. She was short, and excessively thin, it was like she only had skin covering her bones and no internal organs. Her nails were long and pointy, and she was wearing a simple, dirty robe, looked hand-made.

She had a wide smile on her face that was revealing perfectly white teeth that seemed completely out of character, looking at the rest of her body.

She walked out of the closet and stared at each of us. She was reacting to our presence, which meant that was not the memory playing out. She then noticed young Vessel hiding behind Lucy, her smile became wider, her jaw clenched more, making her face lokk way more sinister.

“There you finally are… Long have I waited…” Her voice was the one you’d expect from an old lady, but with a more twisted tone to it. “But you’re not the whole thing… Let’s get him.”

She stood straighter and all her bones made a cracking sound. She lifted an arm and her finger elongated. She shook her hand a little. Suddenly, the beast appeared in the middle of the room, and it looked terrified by the old woman. It was trying to move but was like stuck by invisible ties. The woman was looking straight at it with an even creepier smile than before.

“Now, let’s get to the good part… We’re going to get rid of this.” She made another hand move in its direction.

The beast progressively took the form of a young man, probably in his late twenties. He finally fell on the floor. He was sitting there, dark circles around his eyes, he was dressed simply but pretty elegant. He looked extremely tired, his eyes were looking at the ground. He seemed out of breath. His face had an angry but exhausted expression. We were now in the presence of the other Vessel, that had his entire rage and curse taken away from him

“You…” Claire said.

The man looked up to her and had a face of surprise.

“Claire? What are you doing here?” He asked.

They both looked surprised.

“Well!” Said the old woman. “You took your sweet time, didn’t you Vessel?”

He looked up to her with his angry expression coming back.

“You’ve done more than I could ever hope you to, even refusing to die…” She continued. She was smiling, clearly mocking him. “Now tell me, now that it’s out of you…” She leaned towards him. “… how do you feel about everything you’ve done?”

He looked so devastated. She laughed. Vessel started to look at us and noticed young Vessel standing behind Lucy. He seemed shocked to see him. He somehow found the strength to get up on his feet and slowly walked towards him. Young Vessel came out of behind Lucy a little bit. Vessel got down to his level. He had a slight smile on his face.

“God, how young was I…”

He presented his hand, and young Vessel held it.

“How could I forget you… I’m sorry little one. I think it started because I wanted to protect you… Can’t say I did a great job…”

“Come on, Vessel, you know it’s time now… I can’t wait to enjoy everything you gathered for all this time.” Said the old lady, still giggling. Her face had a creepy look to it.

Vessel looked down to his feet.

“It’s time for us to go my friend.” He said to Young Vessel.

“Are we going to die?” He asked, his eyes filling with tears.

“I think so.” Vessel answered calmly, his face showing a thousand regrets.

“But, I don’t want to die…” He said, crying.

“I know…” Vessel said.

He got up and stayed silent for a moment. He then turned his head towards Claire.

“For what it’s worth,… I’m really sorry little lady… You’re really impressive you know.” He said. He then turned towards the old woman and addressed us one last phrase.

“You can leave now, It will be okay, but be fast.”

Claire and I started to go back to the entrance door. Young Vessel was crying. Lucy looked confused. I called her, telling her to hurry. She had a panicked look. She finally leaned towards young Vessel and whispered something in his ear. She then looked at him as he stopped crying.

“You understand?” She asked him.

He nodded yes.

On this she followed us. The three of us started to run to find our doors. I asked Lucy what she said to young Vessel, but she answered that she just reassured him. Eventually, we found ourselves in front of our doors, and I had the surprise to see that the claw marks and scratches on my door had fade away. We looked at each other, Lucy looked at the cabin one last time, and we all went through our doors.

We came back to the car. Mark was out of breath. We weren’t at the spot we were before. Apparently, a severe storm had started to form around us and he had to drive us away. It suddenly stopped less than a minute before we came back and he could stop. We explained everything that had happened to us.

After talking a bit about everything, we understood that everything was now probably back to “normal”. Mark and Claire accepted to drive us back to our place, understanding that this time, we’ll probably never see each other again. Lucy and I were on the back seat and I couldn’t help but notice that she still looked a bit worried. I asked us what was wrong, but she assured me that it was fine. A few minutes passed and she still had that same anxious expression.

Eventually, she looked at the window and let out a small gasp that I was the only one to hear. I looked at her. A little smile formed on her face and quietly said: “I knew it” and winked to the window.

“Are you sure you’re fine?” I asked, pretending I hadn’t seen that.

She smiled at me, a peaceful warm and beautiful smile, and hold my hand.

“Yeah, it really is now. I’m good.” She answered.

I’m in the car as I’m posting this. I think it’ll be my last update, at least I hope so. It’s crazy how so many insane and fucked up shit I’ve been through these last few days, and yet, I’ve never felt so good. In a way, I think this is the best thing that ever happened to me, at least, when I look at the person sitting beside me, that’s how I feel. Thanks to those who followed me.

A Bit of A Preface
Like most people on this subreddit, I am currently a NEET. Dropped out of college last year due to a mix of difficulties and personal reasons, and am currently in a weird limbo state of where to go forward in terms of my future. However, what I really am looking and hoping for is what the title states: a connection. Whether that be a friend or potentially something more, I want to be able to finally have someone who I can chat with, game with, watch stuff with, or just simply chill with. Whether that be with someone local, or someone on the other side of the planet really isn't an issue with me, and besides, beggars can't really can't be picky choosers.
I haven't had the best luck when it comes to making friends (last one I truly had was back in early high school), and I can tell you what my dating life is like in the next 5 lines:
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Yeah, a whole bunch of nothing.
Now, I'm not trying to make this a pity party for myself, but rather to showcase how I'm also a NEET with not a lot of social or romantical experience. If you happen to be the same, great, we already have something in common. If not, and you're actually a very social or romantically experienced person despite being a NEET, then great x2, you'll make a fantastic person to talk to. I'm generally avaliable for most of the day currently thanks to the whole NEET lifestyle I got going for (or against, depending on how you look it) myself, so timezones aren't really an issue for the most part.
Talking About Me
To provide a bit of a description of myself, I am 23-year-old black guy that is real skinny (a living Kit Kat bar just waiting to be snapped). In terms of my interests, anime and manga is what I breathe, and gaming is what I live for. I mostly game on my PC and Switch, but don't play much in the way of multiplayer games (playing with randoms just isn't all that fun for most games to me), as I tend to go for single player focused games a whole lot more. I'm a huge SEGA, Nintendo, Capcom, and Square Enix soul at heart, meaning things like Sonic, Phoenix Wright, Kingdom Hearts, Zelda and a bunch of other games, and am huge on retro games (think PS2/GameCube Era and going on back from there). But even if your gaming interests don't align with mine, I like to think of myself as a jack of all trades, so I probably have at least some experience, knowledge, and openess as to whatever you may play as well.
Talking About You
While I'm not picky as to what kind of person I'm looking for (the beggar shall not be the picky chooser again), I'm really into white, british, and/or asian girls. I don't have any hard preferences when it comes to age (in other words, you can be around 20 or you can be 40+) so long as you take care of your body physically. A hard requirement is that you are at least either a fan of gaming or anime/manga, as I feel like having a strong basis on which to connect with is at least somewhat necessary. I also don't mind if you smoke or drink, so long as the fact that I vape isn't a pressing thing for you. Like I mentioned earlier, being local is a huge plus in the case that things go well and a potential meetup is possible, but keeping things online (at least for the time being) is just as fine too (plus, sharing what your life and culture is like in [INSERT COUNTRY/STATE HERE] could make for some good conversation to boot).
Made It This Far, Did You?
If you made it this far, I take it you must be somewhat still interested, so do feel free to send me a message. All I ask is that your opening message includes a bit a small introduction, what you're looking for, and preferably a picture of yourself, though don't feel like it's a requirement if you're aren't comfortable in sharing one (though I do want to make sure that you're legit, and not some bot or impersonation). If you do happen to send a picture of yourself, I'll of course send one back.
Hope to hear from you soon, and before we know it, we're arguing about what Fullmetal Alchemist Brotherhood or One Piece opening is the best, fawning over Jet Set Radio's or Nier: Automata's OST, or whatever we end up talking about. And if this post didn't wind up striking your fancy, then I hope you find what you're looking for in someone else. Until then! 🫡

For as long as I can remember, my family and I have shared a deep love for the great outdoors, particularly the enchanting allure of the forest. The allure of nature's symphony, the gentle rustling of leaves, and the melodious songs of birds never failed to captivate our senses. The verdant foliage, adorned with vibrant flowers, created a kaleidoscope of colors that danced before our eyes, while the towering trees whispered ancient secrets to those who would listen. It was a place where tranquility and serenity embraced us, soothing our souls in the embrace of nature's embrace.
Our excursions into the wilderness were often brief, day trips filled with laughter, exploration, and a shared appreciation for the natural wonders around us. But the recent addition of an RV to our family provided an opportunity to embark on a new adventure—an overnight camping trip nestled within the embrace of majestic mountains and the allure of the forest.
Excitement bubbled within us as we meticulously planned our journey. We imagined gathering around a crackling fire, its warm glow casting dancing shadows upon our faces. The scent of burning wood mingling with the crisp mountain air would create an intoxicating aroma that would forever be etched in our memories.
Finally, the day arrived, and we eagerly set off, our RV becoming our mobile sanctuary. The journey itself was a testament to the beauty of the land we traversed. Majestic peaks rose like sentinels, their snow-capped summits piercing the heavens. As we delved deeper into the heart of nature's domain, our anticipation heightened, and our hearts beat in sync with the rhythm of the forest.
Upon reaching our destination, we carefully parked our RV, a tiny fortress amidst the towering giants. The forest seemed to embrace us, its silence broken only by the distant chirping of birds bidding us welcome. The air carried a crispness that invigorated our spirits, as if it whispered tales of forgotten legends and ancient mysteries.
With each step we took, the forest welcomed us into its secret realm. Our senses were intoxicated by the sweet aroma of pine needles underfoot, mingling with the earthy scent of damp soil. Sunlight, filtered through the canopy above, created dappled patterns on the forest floor, like nature's own mesmerizing tapestry.
As the sun began to set, casting a warm golden glow over the campsite, we gathered around the fire pit. Amelia, our adventurous and nature-loving daughter, was brimming with excitement at the prospect of building a fire.
Amelia's eyes sparkled as she clasped her hands together, her voice filled with anticipation. "Dad, I can't wait to make the fire! Can I help? Please?"
A smile stretched across my face, mirroring the twinkle in her eyes. I nodded, appreciating her eagerness to participate in this age-old ritual of outdoor adventure.
"Absolutely, Amelia," I replied, my voice laced with fatherly pride. "You can gather some dry branches and twigs. Just be careful not to venture too far into the forest."
With an enthusiastic nod, Amelia seized a small, weathered basket and darted towards the beckoning trees and rustling underbrush.
"Watch out for the prickly bushes, sweetheart!" I called out, a touch of caution in my voice. "And remember, stay within sight!"
Her voice, tinged with determination, floated back to me on the gentle breeze. "Don't worry, Dad! I'll find the best branches!"
As Amelia vanished into the verdant embrace of the forest, my wife, Emma, emerged from our trusty RV. Her graceful movements belied her quiet excitement as she retrieved the carefully packed food provisions from within.
Emma's nimble fingers unwrapped the ingredients with a practiced ease, her eyes glimmering with a mix of culinary artistry and familial warmth. She hummed a gentle tune under her breath, her love for nurturing our family evident in every deliberate action.
Meanwhile, I busied myself by unloading the essential cooking equipment from the storage compartments. With the clinking of metal against metal, I extracted the gleaming grill grate and stoked the coals, preparing the stage for a delicious outdoor feast.
After a while, with a skip in her step and a glimmer of triumph in her eyes, Amelia emerged from the lush foliage, clutching a trove of dry branches and twigs within the sturdy basket. Yet, nestled in the crook of her other arm was an unexpected treasure—an enchanting discovery that had captured her young heart.
Amelia's voice bubbled with excitement as she approached, her words tumbling forth. "Dad! Look what I found! It's a small Teddy bear! Isn't it adorable?"
Curiosity sparked within me as I studied the small, weathered toy she presented. Its once vibrant colors had faded, its fur slightly disheveled, but it bore an undeniable charm. A silent narrative unfolded before my eyes, envisioning the laughter and companionship this cherished possession once brought to another child.
A mixture of caution and wonder mingled in my voice as I questioned, "Where did you find it, sweetheart? It seems someone may have lost it."
Amelia's face radiated with innocence and genuine affection for her newfound friend. "I found it near a tree, Daddy. Maybe another family played here, and the Teddy bear got left behind. Can I keep it, please?"
My instinctual protective nature rose, a desire to shield her from the potential disappointments that accompany lost treasures. Yet, a tender understanding blossomed within me. This small act of generosity and acceptance would foster her sense of empathy and compassion.
Considering her wide-eyed enthusiasm, I yielded to the warmth in my heart. "Alright, Amelia," I relented with a gentle smile. "If it brings you joy and reminds you of this beautiful adventure, then you can keep it."
Amelia's jubilant squeal filled the air, punctuating the acceptance of her request. With an affectionate hug, she embraced her newfound companion, promising it a future filled with endless tea parties and imaginary adventures.
Afer I set the fire, with a satisfying crackle, the flames sprang to life, dancing and flickering in a mesmerizing rhythm. The golden tendrils reached towards the night sky, casting a warm glow upon our faces. The radiant heat embraced us, dispelling the chill of the evening air as we gathered around the enchanting inferno.
I meticulously arranged the equipment we had brought, positioning the sturdy metal grill over the roaring fire. The scent of woodsmoke mingled with the tantalizing aroma of seasoned meat, sizzling and sputtering as it made contact with the heated grates. The tantalizing melody of crackling embers serenaded our senses, a symphony of anticipation and contentment.
My wife, her eyes sparkling with both determination and tenderness, deftly prepared the ingredients that would transform into a feast of flavors. The rhythmic symphony of chopping, the aromatic dance of herbs and spices, and the gentle sizzle of ingredients meeting the heated pan created a harmonious tableau of culinary artistry.
Amelia, wide-eyed and filled with wonder, took her place by my side, her small hands outstretched in eager anticipation. I showed her how to position the meat on the grill, carefully instructing her on the art of achieving the perfect sear. Her youthful enthusiasm ignited a sense of pride within me, as I witnessed her embracing the opportunity to contribute to our family's culinary adventure.
“We still need some firewood. I will get some until it gets darker. I will be right back!,” I told Emma and I delved deeper into the wilderness.
The air was thick with the scent of pine and earth, a symphony of nature enveloping me as I wandered amidst towering trees. My fingers brushed against dry leaves and moss-covered rocks, searching for the elusive twigs and branches necessary to further kindle our flames.
But my curiosity led me further ahead, my gaze alighting upon something beyond the ordinary. "What the hell," I murmured, my voice was like a whisper amidst the wilderness.
My my heart was quickening as I glimpsed the outline of a vehicle amidst the foliage. It stood solitary and still, like a relic from another time, its metal frame weathered by the passage of seasons.
I hesitated whether or not to go closer, my instincts prickling with unease.
"Perhaps just another camper," I told myself, though doubt lingered in my mind.
Then I changed my mind the hairs were raising on the back of my neck and walked away from the silent sentinel of metal and glass.
I retraced my steps through the labyrinth of trees, the distant echo of our footsteps mingling with the whispers of the forest. I was immediately relieved as the warmth of our camp awaited me and I was not sure if I should tell Emma that I had seen another RV deeper in the forest. I decided not to, it might ruin the warm athmosphere of our moments.
The crackling fire and the tantalizing aroma of the cooking meat wove an enchanting tapestry around us, casting a spell that encapsulated the essence of togetherness. As the minutes ticked by, we shared stories, laughter, and the warmth of familial love. The darkness around us seemed to fade away, replaced by the glow of our shared experiences and the promise of a memorable night.
In that moment, it was not just the flickering flames that illuminated our campsite, but the intangible bond we shared as a family. We were not merely three individuals gathered around a fire, but a tapestry of love, connection, and shared dreams. The crackling fire served as a beacon, illuminating the path towards a future filled with shared adventures, cherished memories, and an unbreakable bond that would withstand the tests of time.
As we reveled in the joyous harmony of food and company, the night sky glittered above, painting a breathtaking backdrop for our intimate gathering. The stars, like sparkling witnesses, bore witness to the magic that unfolded in that humble campsite.
In the symphony of crackling flames and joyful chatter, we savored the beauty of simplicity, finding solace and fulfillment in the warmth of our shared presence. It was in this tranquil moment, surrounded by the wilderness and enveloped in the embrace of our loved ones, that we realized the true essence of life's blessings—a serene respite from the world's chaos, and the unrivaled joy of being together, just the three of us.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, surrendering the world to the embrace of darkness, a palpable chill crept into the air, sending shivers down our spines. Wisps of mist curled and swirled around us, lending an ethereal quality to the night.
Feeling the temperature drop, I retrieved a thick, cozy blanket from the confines of our trusty RV. Its soft fabric, woven with memories of past adventures, held the promise of warmth and comfort. Gently draping the blanket over Emma and Amelia, I ensured their precious forms were shielded from the encroaching cold.
Amelia, her energy waning with each passing moment, fought against the drowsiness tugging at her eyelids. Her yawns, like tiny symphonies of weariness, punctuated the tranquility of the evening. Sensing her fatigue, I knelt down beside her, my voice filled with gentle concern.
"Sweetheart, it's getting late and you look tired," I whispered, my breath carrying warmth in the crisp night air. "Would you like to go to bed?"
Amelia's eyes, still sparkling with the remnants of excitement, met mine. A yawn escaped her lips, a delicate melody of exhaustion. However, her spirit remained steadfast, determined to revel in every last moment of our outdoor escapade.
"No, Daddy," she replied, her voice a soft murmur. "I'm not sleepy yet. I want to stay here and enjoy the campfire."
Her response resonated with the boundless enthusiasm of youth, and I couldn't help but smile at her unwavering spirit. In that instant, I understood that this was a rare and precious opportunity—a chance to immerse ourselves in the magic of the night, to surrender to the allure of the crackling flames and the mysteries concealed within the darkness.
Then I thought of the camper van that I had just seen and for some reason, it made me feel uneasy. Trying to ignore it, I settled myself beside Amelia, the fire's radiant glow casting enchanting shadows upon our faces. Emma, her hand tenderly clasping mine, joined us, her presence a comforting reassurance amidst the whispering night.
As we sat there, the crackling fire casting an otherworldly glow upon our little circle, a symphony of silence enveloped us. The distant chirping of nocturnal creatures mingled with the soft crackling of the firewood, creating a harmonious lullaby that serenaded us into a state of tranquil contentment.
Stars, like celestial lanterns, punctured the ink-black canvas above, their shimmering brilliance a testament to the vastness of the universe and the infinite possibilities that lay beyond our mortal reach. The fragrant scent of pine mingled with the smoky essence of the campfire, intoxicating our senses and anchoring us to this moment of fleeting serenity.
Time seemed suspended, as if the world had paused to allow us this respite from the frenetic pace of life. We basked in the warmth of the fire, our souls nourished by the shared silence and the bond forged through the simple act of being present with one another.
But amidst the tranquil symphony of nature, a rustling in the nearby underbrush shattered the stillness. The sudden disruption reverberated through the air, jolting us from our serene reverie. Emma's eyes widened, her hand instinctively tightening its grip around mine. Amelia, her youthful curiosity piqued, looked to me for reassurance.
"What was that, Daddy?" Amelia whispered, her voice barely audible above the crackling flames.
I cast a soothing smile in her direction, my attempt to allay any growing fears. "It's probably just an animal, sweetheart," I reassured her, my voice carrying a calm certainty. "Maybe a deer or a boar exploring the woods. Nothing to be worried about."
Yet, as the rustling persisted, growing louder and more distinct, even I couldn't help but feel a flicker of unease gnawing at the edges of my composure. The sound seemed to possess an undeniable weight, suggesting a presence larger and more formidable than initially anticipated.
Emma's eyes darted nervously between the surrounding trees, her senses attuned to the slightest movement. "Are you sure, dear?" she asked, her voice tinged with apprehension. "It sounds quite... substantial."
Instinctively, I rose to my feet, my protective instincts surging within me. "Stay here," I instructed, my voice firm but laden with an undercurrent of caution. "I'll go check it out. It's probably just passing through."
With cautious steps, I ventured toward the origin of the enigmatic rustling, my ears straining to decipher its source. I thought about the camper van. Was it possible that they could see our fire and wanted some company? That sounded ridiculous. Or could they have been in trouble? I should have checked that vehicle out.
Each crackle of twigs underfoot seemed to amplify in the stillness of the night, magnifying my senses. As I neared the treeline, anticipation mingled with a lingering sense of trepidation.
And then, as suddenly as it had begun, the rustling ceased, leaving an eerie silence in its wake. The once vibrant symphony of nature now seemed muted, as if holding its breath in anticipation. I scanned the darkness, searching for any signs of movement, my heart thudding against my chest.
Slowly, I retraced my steps back to the warmth and safety of our campfire haven, my senses on high alert. Returning to my family, I wore a reassuring smile, hoping to convey a sense of calm despite the lingering mystery.
"It's alright," I assured them, my voice infused with a newfound conviction. "Whatever it was, it must have moved along. We're safe here."
Relief washed over their faces, their tense postures gradually easing. We settled back into our makeshift sanctuary, the familiarity of the crackling fire offering a comforting embrace. Our senses remained heightened, vigilant for any lingering signs of the unseen visitor.
Just as a semblance of calm began to settle over our campsite, an otherworldly roar pierced the night air, tearing through the fabric of serenity. The sound, far from the natural symphony we had grown accustomed to, possessed a menacing quality that resonated deep within our souls. Its metallic timbre reverberated through the darkness, sending icy tendrils of fear snaking down our spines.
Amelia's eyes widened in terror, her small frame trembling with the weight of the unknown. Emma's expression mirrored the trepidation etched across our faces. This was no ordinary sound—a realization that hung heavy in the air.
"That... that doesn't sound like a deer or a boar," Emma stammered, her voice quivering with a mix of disbelief and dread. "What could it possibly be?"
Before we could ponder further, the deafening roar reverberated through the night once more, closer this time. Its proximity shattered any illusions of safety that had momentarily settled over us. The air seemed to thicken, charged with an electric sense of urgency. Our instincts kicked into overdrive, urging us to abandon our belongings and seek shelter.
"Leave everything!" I shouted, my voice laced with urgency. "We have to get to the RV now!"
Without a moment's hesitation, we sprang into action. Emma snatched Amelia's hand, her grip tight and resolute, while I scooped up our precious daughter into my arms.
“My bear,” she screamed and picked up her new toy, her tiny hands clung to the worn bear with an intensity that belied her tender age.
The campfire, once a symbol of warmth and tranquility, was abandoned in an instant as we sprinted toward the sanctuary of the RV.
The world around us blurred into a frenzy of motion as our legs carried us with desperate urgency. Fear propelled us forward, fueling our determination to reach safety. With each pounding heartbeat, the roar grew louder, its ominous resonance seemingly at our heels, a predator closing in on its prey.
Finally, we reached the welcoming embrace of the RV, its sturdy frame offering a semblance of refuge from the unknown terror that lurked beyond. I swiftly deposited Amelia onto the seat, her wide eyes reflecting the same mixture of fear and relief that mirrored our own.
As I fumbled with the keys, my hands trembling with a cocktail of adrenaline and anxiety, I spared a glance back at the abandoned campsite. The darkness swallowed our belongings, the remnants of our interrupted evening left behind as a haunting reminder of the inexplicable menace that had disrupted our peaceful retreat.
With a trembling hand, I inserted the key into the ignition, the engine roaring to life in harmony with the echoes of the unknown creature outside. The RV became our fortress, its metal walls shielding us from the terrors that lurked beyond.
As we peeled away from the once idyllic campsite, the wailing roar echoed in the distance. Our hearts raced in unison, our breaths coming in jagged gasps as we sought solace in the sanctuary of the rolling vehicle.
With a trembling hand gripping the steering wheel, I pressed my foot down harder on the gas pedal, urging the RV to accelerate. The vehicle responded with a surge of power, propelling us forward with a newfound urgency. The engine roared in unison with the thundering beat of my heart, creating a symphony of adrenaline-fueled chaos.
As the wheels churned beneath us, the surrounding trees became a blur of green and brown, their branches reaching out like ghostly specters in our wake. The world outside the windows shifted in a dizzying dance, a kaleidoscope of fleeting glimpses and fleeting shadows.
The headlights sliced through the darkness, casting elongated shadows that flickered and danced upon the passing foliage. Each passing plant and tree seemed to contort and twist in the ethereal glow, their distorted forms morphing into grotesque silhouettes of their former selves.
A heavy silence settled within the RV, broken only by the hum of the engine and the rhythmic whoosh of the rushing wind. Our breaths remained caught in our chests, suspended in a shared state of shock and disbelief. The weight of what we had witnessed hung in the air, a chilling reminder that the boundaries of our world were not as fixed as we had once believed.
The scene we had left behind in the forest haunted our thoughts—a glimpse into a realm far removed from our own, something demonic, something that defied explanation. The image of that otherworldly roar and the malevolent presence it implied lingered like a scar etched into our memories, forever imprinted upon our souls.
Minutes stretched into agonizing hours as we raced along the winding road, each passing second feeling like an eternity. Our collective relief remained just out of reach, overshadowed by the lingering unease that clung to us like a specter. The distance between the forest and the main road seemed interminable, every curve and bend in the road prolonging our escape.
Finally, the familiar sight of the main road materialized before us, a beacon of respite in the darkness. As the RV merged onto its paved embrace, a collective sigh of relief cascaded through the cabin. The weight that had burdened our shoulders began to lift, replaced by a renewed sense of safety and security.
Yet, despite the relief that washed over us, the memory of the demonic encounter refused to dissipate as we were heading home. We knew that what we had witnessed in the depths of the forest would forever remain a haunting enigma, a testament to the boundless mysteries that lurk on the fringes of our understanding.
With weary bodies and restless minds, we arrived back at the familiar sanctuary of our home. The weight of the night's harrowing encounter clung to us like a heavy shroud, making the simple act of finding solace in sleep an arduous task. We all slept in the same bed that night. Tossing and turning beneath the covers, we battled against the remnants of fear that lingered within the recesses of our thoughts.
Morning finally broke through the darkness, casting its tentative rays of light upon our weary faces. The sun's gentle warmth filtered through the curtains, offering a glimmer of respite from the lingering shadows of the night. We emerged from our sleep-deprived haze, grateful for the sanctuary that our home provided.
Gathering around the breakfast table, our shared silence spoke volumes. We sought solace in the simple act of breaking bread together, a familiar routine that offered a semblance of normalcy amidst the lingering unease. No words were spoken of the night's horrors; instead, we focused on the mundane tasks of the morning, the clinking of cutlery and the aroma of freshly brewed coffee serving as a comforting backdrop to our collective attempt at healing.
As the day unfolded, we busied ourselves with the routine tasks, finding solace in the familiar rhythms. Dusting shelves, tending to neglected plants, and tidying up the remnants of the night's chaos became acts of therapy, a means of grounding ourselves in the reassuring normalcy of domesticity.
The weight of exhaustion settled upon our shoulders, and we allowed ourselves moments of respite as the day wore on. Sunday, a day of rest, offered a reprieve. We retreated to the cozy corners of our home, seeking solace in the embrace of soft couches and plush pillows.
As the hours slipped away, a quiet calm enveloped our home. The once-turbulent waves of fear and uncertainty settled into a gentle ebb and flow. Laughter and conversation, began to permeate the air, intermingling with the familiar sounds of a household in motion.
As the evening sun began to dip below the horizon, casting a warm glow through the living room window, we settled down in front of the TV, seeking solace in laughter and lightheartedness.
I reached for the remote control, ready to immerse ourselves in the comedic world of a streaming service, when something caught our attention. The TV screen flickered to life, displaying the urgent and captivating headlines of the news. A mixture of curiosity and a tinge of apprehension filled the room, prompting me to pause and leave the news channel playing.
The news anchor's voice echoed through the room, delivering the shocking report of a missing family. My wife leaned forward, her eyes fixed on the TV, her voice trembling with concern. Amelia, her eyes wide with curiosity, leaned closer to the TV, her Teddy bear still clutched tightly in her arms as she was listening to the newsreader.
“This is a breaking news update on a harrowing incident that has shaken the community to its core. The Hudson family, who embarked on a seemingly routine hiking trip into the serene depths of the nearby forest several weeks ago, has tragically met a devastating fate. Today, authorities have confirmed the discovery and identification of their camper van and remains, a discovery that has left investigators, medical examiners, and locals alike in a state of shock and disbelief. The process of identifying the bodies was nothing short of a nightmare for the dedicated team of forensic experts. The unimaginable horror that unfolded in those woods rendered their task exceptionally challenging. Their bodies, torn apart by an unknown and unimaginable force, presented investigators with an enigma that defied explanation. Their positions were grotesquely twisted, their injuries inexplicable and mind-boggling. According to the investigators, an unknown force seriously damaged their RV as well. Medical examiners, renowned for their expertise, were left dumbfounded as they grappled with the mysterious circumstances surrounding this tragic event. The sheer brutality of their demise left them searching for answers that seemed to lie just beyond their reach. The bite marks, enormous in size and ferocity, left on the bodies only added to the perplexity of the situation. Astonishingly, DNA testing revealed that these bite marks belonged to an unidentified creature, sending shockwaves of fear and disbelief through the community. The repercussions of this shocking revelation have reverberated throughout the town, leaving residents on edge and gripped by a pervasive sense of fear and uncertainty. The once serene forest, a place of solace and tranquility, now holds untold horrors that have shattered the peace and shattered the lives of the Hudson family. Authorities advise everyone not to go into the forest until they find out what happened and what killed the family.”
As the newsreader went on we all stopped eating our popocorn.
“In light of these disturbing developments, it is my duty to advise against venturing into the forest at this time. The safety and security that once accompanied our tranquil natural surroundings have been shattered, replaced by an aura of uncertainty and fear. Folks, we cannot ignore the evidence before us, the evidence that points to an unknown and terrifying presence within those woods. I understand the allure of nature's embrace, the desire to explore, to seek solace, and to reconnect with the world around us. However, in this moment, I implore you to prioritize your safety and exercise caution. The risk is simply too great, and the consequences too dire to ignore. I urge you to remain vigilant, to report any suspicious activities or unusual occurrences to the authorities immediately. Your eyes and ears are our greatest assets in keeping our town safe. Together, we can overcome this darkness and restore a sense of security to our beloved community. In the coming days and weeks, we will keep you updated on the progress of our investigations,” the country sheriff said to the reporter.
“We will continue to bring you updates on this developing story as more information becomes available. Our hearts go out to the Hudson family and all those affected by this unimaginable tragedy. Please stay tuned for further updates as we strive to unravel the mysteries that lie hidden within the depths of our world,” the newsreader said and they showed some photos of the Hudson family.
The images on the screen showed their smiling faces, frozen in time. The thought that the camper van I saw in the forest was the crime scene of a brutal and unexplained murder not far from our camp, sent chills down on my spine. This was something I kept to myself. But we all thought about the same thing: the next ones could have been us.

New Chapter on every MWF (Monday, Wednesday,Friday)
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Chapter 19: Four-Legged
Gribble's bare feet pounded against the wet ground, splashing through puddles and squelching in the mud. His heart thundered in his chest, threatening to burst out of his ribcage with every frantic beat. The dark, damp forest closed in around him, the trees looming like silent sentinels in the gloom. Above, the sky rumbled ominously, the sound echoing through the woods like a warning.
Raindrops pattered against the leaves overhead, the light drizzle gradually soaking through Gribble's clothes and mingling with the sweat that beaded on his skin. He gulped in lungfuls of air, the earthy scent of the forest filling his nostrils - the petrichor of rain on soil, the green aroma of the trees, the musty odor of decaying leaves underfoot. In another time, another place, it might have been a comforting smell. But here, now, with danger nipping at his heels, it was little more than a fleeting distraction from the terror that consumed him.
"Gotta keep going," he panted, his voice barely a whisper. "Can't let them catch me."
The goblins and trolls were hot on his heels, and Gribble knew he couldn't afford to slow down. The forest was his only chance to escape, and he was determined to make it count. He pushed himself harder, ignoring the burning in his lungs and the ache in his muscles.
The heavens opened up, unleashing a torrential downpour that battered against the forest canopy. Fat droplets burst through the leaves, pelting Gribble's skin like icy needles. His tattered clothes, already hanging off his lean frame in shreds, were drenched within seconds, the fabric clinging to his body like a second skin.
The deluge blurred his vision, reducing the world to a hazy mess of greens and grays. Gribble squinted against the rain, blinking rapidly to clear his eyes, but it was a losing battle. The path ahead disappeared, swallowed up by the murky gloom, and he stumbled blindly forward, his steps faltering on the slick, uneven ground.
But Gribble refused to let the storm halt his desperate flight. He gritted his teeth, determination burning in his chest like a flame, and pushed onward. One foot in front of the other, one step at a time, he forged ahead, his mind focused on a single, all-consuming goal: escape. Grimrock's forces were out there somewhere, searching for him, hunting him like a fox before the hounds. He couldn't let them catch him. He wouldn't.
So he ran, and he kept running, even as the rain pounded against his back and the wind howled in his ears. He ran until his lungs burned and his muscles screamed in protest, until the forest was a blur of green and brown around him. He ran, and he didn't stop.
"Come on, Gribble," he urged himself. "You can do this. Just keep moving."
The rain was a mixed blessing. On the one hand, it helped to cover his tracks and hide his scent. But on the other hand, it made the ground slippery and treacherous. Gribble lost his footing more than once, catching himself just in time to avoid a nasty fall.
Suddenly, a flash of lightning lit up the forest, and Gribble saw something that made his heart leap with hope. There, in the side of a nearby hill, was a dark opening - a cave that could offer him shelter from the storm.
"A cave!" he exclaimed, his eyes wide. "Maybe I can hide in there, just for a little while."
He hesitated for a moment, wondering if the cave might be dangerous. But another crack of thunder made up his mind for him. He couldn't stay out in the open, not with the storm getting worse and his enemies getting closer. The cave was a risk he had to take.
Gribble scrambled towards the cave, his heart pounding in his ears as the thunder crashed around him. The rain pelted his face, making it hard to see, but he didn't let that stop him. He slipped and slid on the wet ground, nearly losing his balance several times.
"Almost there," he panted, his eyes fixed on the cave's entrance. "Just a little further."
The mouth of the cave loomed ahead of him, a dark and forbidding hole in the hillside. Gribble's mind raced with thoughts of what might be waiting for him inside, but he pushed them aside. Whatever the cave held, it couldn't be worse than what was behind him. His lungs burned and his muscles screamed in protest, but he refused to slow down. He was so close to safety, so close to a moment's rest.
As he reached the cave's entrance, Gribble paused for a moment, peering into the darkness. It seemed empty, and he knew he had no choice but to go inside. The sound of the rain and thunder faded as he stepped over the threshold, replaced by an eerie stillness. Gribble blinked, trying to adjust to the sudden change in light.
"Hello?" he called out, his voice echoing off the cave walls. "Is anyone there?"
Only silence answered him, and Gribble let out a sigh of relief. He was alone, at least for now.
His heart was still racing, and he took a few deep breaths, trying to calm himself. He knew he couldn't let his guard down, not even for a moment, but the relief of being out of the storm was overwhelming.
Gribble stepped further into the cave, shivering from the cold and exhaustion. The sound of the rain and thunder became muffled, and he allowed himself a moment to catch his breath, leaning against the damp stone wall. The rough surface scraped against his skin, but he barely noticed. His mind was swirling with emotions - fear, relief, desperation, and a tiny spark of hope.
"I can't believe I made it," he whispered, his voice trembling. "I thought for sure they were going to catch me."
He knew he couldn't stay in the cave forever, but for now, it was the closest thing to safety he'd known in a long time. He closed his eyes, letting the coolness of the stone seep into his skin, grounding him in the present moment.
As his eyes adjusted to the dim light, Gribble took a look around the cave. It was small but deep, with a low ceiling and narrow passages leading further into the hillside. The floor was uneven, with loose rocks and pebbles scattered about. He could make out the faint shapes of stalactites hanging from the ceiling, their tips glistening with moisture.
"Wow," Gribble breathed, his eyes wide with wonder. "I've never seen anything like this before."
The air was heavy with the scent of damp earth and something else, something Gribble couldn't quite identify. He shivered, pulling his tattered clothes tighter around himself. The cave may have provided shelter from the storm, but it was far from comfortable. Gribble knew he'd have to keep moving soon, but for now, he allowed himself a moment to rest and gather his strength.
Just as he was starting to relax, Gribble saw a flicker of movement out of the corner of his eye. At the mouth of the cave, a dark, shadowy figure appeared. Gribble's heart leapt into his throat, and he froze, his body going rigid with fear.
"Who's there?" he called out, his voice shaking. "Show yourself!"
He squinted, trying to make out more details, but the figure was backlit by the dim light from the entrance, making it impossible to see clearly. Gribble's mind raced with possibilities. Was it another goblin? A troll? Something even worse? He held his breath, not daring to make a sound. The figure didn't seem to have noticed him yet, but Gribble knew that could change at any moment. He cursed silently, realizing that his moment of rest may have just put him in even greater danger.
As Gribble watched, his heart pounding, he realized that the figure was crawling on four legs, moving with a predatory grace that sent a chill down his spine. It was unlike anything he had ever seen before, and a sense of dread washed over him. He could hear the faint click of claws against stone, and he shuddered, realizing that whatever this thing was, it wasn't friendly.
"Oh no," Gribble whispered, his eyes wide with fear. "What is that thing?"
His mind raced, trying to come up with a plan, but he was trapped in the cave with nowhere to run. Gribble's body was tired and he didn't think he had the strength to summon the vines, and he knew he was no match for the creature in terms of strength or speed. His only hope was to stay still and silent, praying that the figure would pass him by.
Gribble pressed himself against the cave wall, hardly daring to breathe as he watched the mysterious creature make its way into the cave. Its eyes glinted in the darkness, reflecting the dim light from the entrance. Gribble's heart was pounding so hard he was sure the creature must be able to hear it, but he didn't dare move.
"Please don't see me," he prayed silently, his hands trembling. "Please just go away."
The figure paused, its head swiveling from side to side as if searching for something. Gribble held his breath, his body trembling with the effort of staying still. The creature took another step forward, and Gribble could see the outline of its muscular body, the way its shoulders rippled with each movement. He closed his eyes, silently begging for the creature to go away, to leave him alone. But deep down, Gribble knew that his luck had run out. Whatever happened next, he was on his own.
Trapped in the cave with nowhere to run, Gribble's mind raced as he tried to come up with a plan. He knew he was no match for the creature in terms of strength or speed, and he was too exhausted to summon any powers. His eyes darted around, searching for anything he could use as a weapon or a means of escape. But the cave was empty, with nothing but rocks and shadows.
"Think, Gribble, think," he muttered to himself, his brow furrowed in concentration. "There's got to be a way out of this."
He cursed his own foolishness for not being more prepared, for not having a backup plan. He'd always relied on his wits and his powers to get him out of trouble, but now, faced with an unknown enemy in an unfamiliar place, Gribble realized just how vulnerable he truly was. He took a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves. He knew he couldn't give up, not after everything he'd been through. Gribble steeled himself, ready to fight or flee, whatever it took to survive.
As the silhouetted figure drew closer, Gribble's heart pounded frantically in his chest. He held his breath, hoping against hope that the creature hadn't noticed him yet. His mind was reeling, trying to find a way out of this terrifying situation, but deep down, he knew that his options were limited.
"Come on, Gribble," he whispered to himself, his fists clenched at his sides. "You can do this. You've faced worse than this before."
The figure was almost upon him now, and Gribble could see the glint of teeth in the darkness, the flash of claws against stone. He braced himself, ready for the attack, ready for the pain and the fear and the desperate struggle for survival. But even as he faced this new threat, Gribble felt a flicker of something else, something he hadn't felt in a long time: hope.
"I've survived the dungeon, the goblins, and the trolls," Gribble said aloud, his voice growing stronger with each word. "I've fought my way through the storm and the forest. And now, faced with yet another challenge, I know that I have the strength to keep going, to keep fighting, no matter what."
He may be small, but he wasn't alone. The cave, the forest, the earth itself - they were all on his side, all part of the same unbreakable will that drove him forward. And with that knowledge, Gribble faced the silhouetted figure, ready for whatever came next.
"Bring it on," Gribble said, his eyes narrowing with determination. "I'm not going down without a fight."
The creature took another step forward, its claws scraping against the stone. Gribble tensed, every muscle in his body coiled and ready to spring into action. He didn't know what was going to happen next, but he knew one thing for sure: he wasn't going to give up. Not now, not ever.

For as long as I can remember, my family and I have shared a deep love for the great outdoors, particularly the enchanting allure of the forest. The allure of nature's symphony, the gentle rustling of leaves, and the melodious songs of birds never failed to captivate our senses. The verdant foliage, adorned with vibrant flowers, created a kaleidoscope of colors that danced before our eyes, while the towering trees whispered ancient secrets to those who would listen. It was a place where tranquility and serenity embraced us, soothing our souls in the embrace of nature's embrace.
Our excursions into the wilderness were often brief, day trips filled with laughter, exploration, and a shared appreciation for the natural wonders around us. But the recent addition of an RV to our family provided an opportunity to embark on a new adventure—an overnight camping trip nestled within the embrace of majestic mountains and the allure of the forest.
Excitement bubbled within us as we meticulously planned our journey. We imagined gathering around a crackling fire, its warm glow casting dancing shadows upon our faces. The scent of burning wood mingling with the crisp mountain air would create an intoxicating aroma that would forever be etched in our memories.
Finally, the day arrived, and we eagerly set off, our RV becoming our mobile sanctuary. The journey itself was a testament to the beauty of the land we traversed. Majestic peaks rose like sentinels, their snow-capped summits piercing the heavens. As we delved deeper into the heart of nature's domain, our anticipation heightened, and our hearts beat in sync with the rhythm of the forest.
Upon reaching our destination, we carefully parked our RV, a tiny fortress amidst the towering giants. The forest seemed to embrace us, its silence broken only by the distant chirping of birds bidding us welcome. The air carried a crispness that invigorated our spirits, as if it whispered tales of forgotten legends and ancient mysteries.
With each step we took, the forest welcomed us into its secret realm. Our senses were intoxicated by the sweet aroma of pine needles underfoot, mingling with the earthy scent of damp soil. Sunlight, filtered through the canopy above, created dappled patterns on the forest floor, like nature's own mesmerizing tapestry.
As the sun began to set, casting a warm golden glow over the campsite, we gathered around the fire pit. Amelia, our adventurous and nature-loving daughter, was brimming with excitement at the prospect of building a fire.
Amelia's eyes sparkled as she clasped her hands together, her voice filled with anticipation. "Dad, I can't wait to make the fire! Can I help? Please?"
A smile stretched across my face, mirroring the twinkle in her eyes. I nodded, appreciating her eagerness to participate in this age-old ritual of outdoor adventure.
"Absolutely, Amelia," I replied, my voice laced with fatherly pride. "You can gather some dry branches and twigs. Just be careful not to venture too far into the forest."
With an enthusiastic nod, Amelia seized a small, weathered basket and darted towards the beckoning trees and rustling underbrush.
"Watch out for the prickly bushes, sweetheart!" I called out, a touch of caution in my voice. "And remember, stay within sight!"
Her voice, tinged with determination, floated back to me on the gentle breeze. "Don't worry, Dad! I'll find the best branches!"
As Amelia vanished into the verdant embrace of the forest, my wife, Emma, emerged from our trusty RV. Her graceful movements belied her quiet excitement as she retrieved the carefully packed food provisions from within.
Emma's nimble fingers unwrapped the ingredients with a practiced ease, her eyes glimmering with a mix of culinary artistry and familial warmth. She hummed a gentle tune under her breath, her love for nurturing our family evident in every deliberate action.
Meanwhile, I busied myself by unloading the essential cooking equipment from the storage compartments. With the clinking of metal against metal, I extracted the gleaming grill grate and stoked the coals, preparing the stage for a delicious outdoor feast.
After a while, with a skip in her step and a glimmer of triumph in her eyes, Amelia emerged from the lush foliage, clutching a trove of dry branches and twigs within the sturdy basket. Yet, nestled in the crook of her other arm was an unexpected treasure—an enchanting discovery that had captured her young heart.
Amelia's voice bubbled with excitement as she approached, her words tumbling forth. "Dad! Look what I found! It's a small Teddy bear! Isn't it adorable?"
Curiosity sparked within me as I studied the small, weathered toy she presented. Its once vibrant colors had faded, its fur slightly disheveled, but it bore an undeniable charm. A silent narrative unfolded before my eyes, envisioning the laughter and companionship this cherished possession once brought to another child.
A mixture of caution and wonder mingled in my voice as I questioned, "Where did you find it, sweetheart? It seems someone may have lost it."
Amelia's face radiated with innocence and genuine affection for her newfound friend. "I found it near a tree, Daddy. Maybe another family played here, and the Teddy bear got left behind. Can I keep it, please?"
My instinctual protective nature rose, a desire to shield her from the potential disappointments that accompany lost treasures. Yet, a tender understanding blossomed within me. This small act of generosity and acceptance would foster her sense of empathy and compassion.
Considering her wide-eyed enthusiasm, I yielded to the warmth in my heart. "Alright, Amelia," I relented with a gentle smile. "If it brings you joy and reminds you of this beautiful adventure, then you can keep it."
Amelia's jubilant squeal filled the air, punctuating the acceptance of her request. With an affectionate hug, she embraced her newfound companion, promising it a future filled with endless tea parties and imaginary adventures.
Afer I set the fire, with a satisfying crackle, the flames sprang to life, dancing and flickering in a mesmerizing rhythm. The golden tendrils reached towards the night sky, casting a warm glow upon our faces. The radiant heat embraced us, dispelling the chill of the evening air as we gathered around the enchanting inferno.
I meticulously arranged the equipment we had brought, positioning the sturdy metal grill over the roaring fire. The scent of woodsmoke mingled with the tantalizing aroma of seasoned meat, sizzling and sputtering as it made contact with the heated grates. The tantalizing melody of crackling embers serenaded our senses, a symphony of anticipation and contentment.
My wife, her eyes sparkling with both determination and tenderness, deftly prepared the ingredients that would transform into a feast of flavors. The rhythmic symphony of chopping, the aromatic dance of herbs and spices, and the gentle sizzle of ingredients meeting the heated pan created a harmonious tableau of culinary artistry.
Amelia, wide-eyed and filled with wonder, took her place by my side, her small hands outstretched in eager anticipation. I showed her how to position the meat on the grill, carefully instructing her on the art of achieving the perfect sear. Her youthful enthusiasm ignited a sense of pride within me, as I witnessed her embracing the opportunity to contribute to our family's culinary adventure.
“We still need some firewood. I will get some until it gets darker. I will be right back!,” I told Emma and I delved deeper into the wilderness.
The air was thick with the scent of pine and earth, a symphony of nature enveloping me as I wandered amidst towering trees. My fingers brushed against dry leaves and moss-covered rocks, searching for the elusive twigs and branches necessary to further kindle our flames.
But my curiosity led me further ahead, my gaze alighting upon something beyond the ordinary. "What the hell," I murmured, my voice was like a whisper amidst the wilderness.
My my heart was quickening as I glimpsed the outline of a vehicle amidst the foliage. It stood solitary and still, like a relic from another time.
I hesitated whether or not to go closer, my instincts prickling with unease.
"Perhaps just another camper," I told myself, though doubt lingered in my mind.
I cautiously approached the abandoned camper van, each step echoing in the eerie silence of the forest. A sense of unease crept over me, intensifying with every closer stride. The van, though not ancient, bore the unmistakable marks of neglect and abandonment, standing alone like a forgotten relic amidst the wilderness.
"Hello?" My voice broke the stillness, but no reply greeted my inquiry. It was as if the very air held its breath, shrouding the scene in an unsettling silence. Abandonment hung heavy in the air, casting a pall over the once vibrant camping spot.
My eyes scanned the scene, taking in the disarray that surrounded the camper. Camping equipment lay strewn haphazardly, a jumbled testament to the hurried departure of its previous occupants. But it was the ominous black stain on the ground that drew my attention, a stark reminder of some past calamity, perhaps a fire that had ravaged this place.
As I moved closer, my gaze was drawn to a chilling sight—a massive scraping marred the side of the camper van, like a grotesque scar etched into its metal skin. It seemed almost as if some colossal force had clawed at the vehicle, leaving behind a haunting testament to its power.
The stillness of the campsite was oppressive, suffocating, as if nature itself held its breath in anticipation of some unseen threat. Not even the birds dared to break the silence with their song, lending an unsettling quality to the desolation that surrounded me.
With a shiver of apprehension, I realized that I stood on the precipice of a mystery, the unanswered questions hanging in the air like a thick fog. What had transpired in this forsaken place? And more importantly, was I truly alone in this silent wilderness?
The hairs were raising on the back of my neck and walked away from the silent sentinel of metal and glass. I retraced my steps through the labyrinth of trees, the distant echo of our footsteps mingling with the whispers of the forest. I was immediately relieved as the warmth of our camp awaited me and I was not sure if I should tell Emma that I had seen another RV deeper in the forest. I decided not to, it might ruin the warm athmosphere of our moments.
The crackling fire and the tantalizing aroma of the cooking meat wove an enchanting tapestry around us, casting a spell that encapsulated the essence of togetherness. As the minutes ticked by, we shared stories, laughter, and the warmth of familial love. The darkness around us seemed to fade away, replaced by the glow of our shared experiences and the promise of a memorable night.
In that moment, it was not just the flickering flames that illuminated our campsite, but the intangible bond we shared as a family. We were not merely three individuals gathered around a fire, but a tapestry of love, connection, and shared dreams. The crackling fire served as a beacon, illuminating the path towards a future filled with shared adventures, cherished memories, and an unbreakable bond that would withstand the tests of time.
As we reveled in the joyous harmony of food and company, the night sky glittered above, painting a breathtaking backdrop for our intimate gathering. The stars, like sparkling witnesses, bore witness to the magic that unfolded in that humble campsite.
In the symphony of crackling flames and joyful chatter, we savored the beauty of simplicity, finding solace and fulfillment in the warmth of our shared presence. It was in this tranquil moment, surrounded by the wilderness and enveloped in the embrace of our loved ones, that we realized the true essence of life's blessings—a serene respite from the world's chaos, and the unrivaled joy of being together, just the three of us.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, surrendering the world to the embrace of darkness, a palpable chill crept into the air, sending shivers down our spines. Wisps of mist curled and swirled around us, lending an ethereal quality to the night.
Feeling the temperature drop, I retrieved a thick, cozy blanket from the confines of our trusty RV. Its soft fabric, woven with memories of past adventures, held the promise of warmth and comfort. Gently draping the blanket over Emma and Amelia, I ensured their precious forms were shielded from the encroaching cold.
Amelia, her energy waning with each passing moment, fought against the drowsiness tugging at her eyelids. Her yawns, like tiny symphonies of weariness, punctuated the tranquility of the evening. Sensing her fatigue, I knelt down beside her, my voice filled with gentle concern.
"Sweetheart, it's getting late and you look tired," I whispered, my breath carrying warmth in the crisp night air. "Would you like to go to bed?"
Amelia's eyes, still sparkling with the remnants of excitement, met mine. A yawn escaped her lips, a delicate melody of exhaustion. However, her spirit remained steadfast, determined to revel in every last moment of our outdoor escapade.
"No, Daddy," she replied, her voice a soft murmur. "I'm not sleepy yet. I want to stay here and enjoy the campfire."
Her response resonated with the boundless enthusiasm of youth, and I couldn't help but smile at her unwavering spirit. In that instant, I understood that this was a rare and precious opportunity—a chance to immerse ourselves in the magic of the night, to surrender to the allure of the crackling flames and the mysteries concealed within the darkness.
Then I thought of the camper van that I had just seen and for some reason, it made me feel uneasy. Trying to ignore it, I settled myself beside Amelia, the fire's radiant glow casting enchanting shadows upon our faces. Emma, her hand tenderly clasping mine, joined us, her presence a comforting reassurance amidst the whispering night.
As we sat there, the crackling fire casting an otherworldly glow upon our little circle, a symphony of silence enveloped us. The distant chirping of nocturnal creatures mingled with the soft crackling of the firewood, creating a harmonious lullaby that serenaded us into a state of tranquil contentment.
Stars, like celestial lanterns, punctured the ink-black canvas above, their shimmering brilliance a testament to the vastness of the universe and the infinite possibilities that lay beyond our mortal reach. The fragrant scent of pine mingled with the smoky essence of the campfire, intoxicating our senses and anchoring us to this moment of fleeting serenity.
Time seemed suspended, as if the world had paused to allow us this respite from the frenetic pace of life. We basked in the warmth of the fire, our souls nourished by the shared silence and the bond forged through the simple act of being present with one another.
But amidst the tranquil symphony of nature, a rustling in the nearby underbrush shattered the stillness. The sudden disruption reverberated through the air, jolting us from our serene reverie. Emma's eyes widened, her hand instinctively tightening its grip around mine. Amelia, her youthful curiosity piqued, looked to me for reassurance.
"What was that, Daddy?" Amelia whispered, her voice barely audible above the crackling flames.
I cast a soothing smile in her direction, my attempt to allay any growing fears. "It's probably just an animal, sweetheart," I reassured her, my voice carrying a calm certainty. "Maybe a deer or a boar exploring the woods. Nothing to be worried about."
Yet, as the rustling persisted, growing louder and more distinct, even I couldn't help but feel a flicker of unease gnawing at the edges of my composure. The sound seemed to possess an undeniable weight, suggesting a presence larger and more formidable than initially anticipated.
Emma's eyes darted nervously between the surrounding trees, her senses attuned to the slightest movement. "Are you sure, dear?" she asked, her voice tinged with apprehension. "It sounds quite... substantial."
Instinctively, I rose to my feet, my protective instincts surging within me. "Stay here," I instructed, my voice firm but laden with an undercurrent of caution. "I'll go check it out. It's probably just passing through."
With cautious steps, I ventured toward the origin of the enigmatic rustling, my ears straining to decipher its source. I thought about the camper van. Was it possible that they could see our fire and wanted some company? That sounded ridiculous. Or could they have been in trouble? I should have checked that vehicle out.
Each crackle of twigs underfoot seemed to amplify in the stillness of the night, magnifying my senses. As I neared the treeline, anticipation mingled with a lingering sense of trepidation.
And then, as suddenly as it had begun, the rustling ceased, leaving an eerie silence in its wake. The once vibrant symphony of nature now seemed muted, as if holding its breath in anticipation. I scanned the darkness, searching for any signs of movement, my heart thudding against my chest.
Slowly, I retraced my steps back to the warmth and safety of our campfire haven, my senses on high alert. Returning to my family, I wore a reassuring smile, hoping to convey a sense of calm despite the lingering mystery.
"It's alright," I assured them, my voice infused with a newfound conviction. "Whatever it was, it must have moved along. We're safe here."
Relief washed over their faces, their tense postures gradually easing. We settled back into our makeshift sanctuary, the familiarity of the crackling fire offering a comforting embrace. Our senses remained heightened, vigilant for any lingering signs of the unseen visitor.
Just as a semblance of calm began to settle over our campsite, an otherworldly roar pierced the night air, tearing through the fabric of serenity. The sound, far from the natural symphony we had grown accustomed to, possessed a menacing quality that resonated deep within our souls. Its metallic timbre reverberated through the darkness, sending icy tendrils of fear snaking down our spines.
Amelia's eyes widened in terror, her small frame trembling with the weight of the unknown. Emma's expression mirrored the trepidation etched across our faces. This was no ordinary sound—a realization that hung heavy in the air.
"That... that doesn't sound like a deer or a boar," Emma stammered, her voice quivering with a mix of disbelief and dread. "What could it possibly be?"
Before we could ponder further, the deafening roar reverberated through the night once more, closer this time. Its proximity shattered any illusions of safety that had momentarily settled over us. The air seemed to thicken, charged with an electric sense of urgency. Our instincts kicked into overdrive, urging us to abandon our belongings and seek shelter.
"Leave everything!" I shouted, my voice laced with urgency. "We have to get to the RV now!"
Without a moment's hesitation, we sprang into action. Emma snatched Amelia's hand, her grip tight and resolute, while I scooped up our precious daughter into my arms.
“My bear,” she screamed and picked up her new toy, her tiny hands clung to the worn bear with an intensity that belied her tender age.
The campfire, once a symbol of warmth and tranquility, was abandoned in an instant as we sprinted toward the sanctuary of the RV.
The world around us blurred into a frenzy of motion as our legs carried us with desperate urgency. Fear propelled us forward, fueling our determination to reach safety. With each pounding heartbeat, the roar grew louder, its ominous resonance seemingly at our heels, a predator closing in on its prey.
Finally, we reached the welcoming embrace of the RV, its sturdy frame offering a semblance of refuge from the unknown terror that lurked beyond. I swiftly deposited Amelia onto the seat, her wide eyes reflecting the same mixture of fear and relief that mirrored our own.
As I fumbled with the keys, my hands trembling with a cocktail of adrenaline and anxiety, I spared a glance back at the abandoned campsite. The darkness swallowed our belongings, the remnants of our interrupted evening left behind as a haunting reminder of the inexplicable menace that had disrupted our peaceful retreat.
With a trembling hand, I inserted the key into the ignition, the engine roaring to life in harmony with the echoes of the unknown creature outside. The RV became our fortress, its metal walls shielding us from the terrors that lurked beyond.
As we peeled away from the once idyllic campsite, the wailing roar echoed in the distance. Our hearts raced in unison, our breaths coming in jagged gasps as we sought solace in the sanctuary of the rolling vehicle.
With a trembling hand gripping the steering wheel, I pressed my foot down harder on the gas pedal, urging the RV to accelerate. The vehicle responded with a surge of power, propelling us forward with a newfound urgency. The engine roared in unison with the thundering beat of my heart, creating a symphony of adrenaline-fueled chaos.
As the wheels churned beneath us, the surrounding trees became a blur of green and brown, their branches reaching out like ghostly specters in our wake. The world outside the windows shifted in a dizzying dance, a kaleidoscope of fleeting glimpses and fleeting shadows.
The headlights sliced through the darkness, casting elongated shadows that flickered and danced upon the passing foliage. Each passing plant and tree seemed to contort and twist in the ethereal glow, their distorted forms morphing into grotesque silhouettes of their former selves.
A heavy silence settled within the RV, broken only by the hum of the engine and the rhythmic whoosh of the rushing wind. Our breaths remained caught in our chests, suspended in a shared state of shock and disbelief. The weight of what we had witnessed hung in the air, a chilling reminder that the boundaries of our world were not as fixed as we had once believed.
The scene we had left behind in the forest haunted our thoughts—a glimpse into a realm far removed from our own, something demonic, something that defied explanation. The image of that otherworldly roar and the malevolent presence it implied lingered like a scar etched into our memories, forever imprinted upon our souls.
Minutes stretched into agonizing hours as we raced along the winding road, each passing second feeling like an eternity. Our collective relief remained just out of reach, overshadowed by the lingering unease that clung to us like a specter. The distance between the forest and the main road seemed interminable, every curve and bend in the road prolonging our escape.
Finally, the familiar sight of the main road materialized before us, a beacon of respite in the darkness. As the RV merged onto its paved embrace, a collective sigh of relief cascaded through the cabin. The weight that had burdened our shoulders began to lift, replaced by a renewed sense of safety and security.
Yet, despite the relief that washed over us, the memory of the demonic encounter refused to dissipate as we were heading home. We knew that what we had witnessed in the depths of the forest would forever remain a haunting enigma, a testament to the boundless mysteries that lurk on the fringes of our understanding.
With weary bodies and restless minds, we arrived back at the familiar sanctuary of our home. The weight of the night's harrowing encounter clung to us like a heavy shroud, making the simple act of finding solace in sleep an arduous task. We all slept in the same bed that night. Tossing and turning beneath the covers, we battled against the remnants of fear that lingered within the recesses of our thoughts.
Morning finally broke through the darkness, casting its tentative rays of light upon our weary faces. The sun's gentle warmth filtered through the curtains, offering a glimmer of respite from the lingering shadows of the night. We emerged from our sleep-deprived haze, grateful for the sanctuary that our home provided.
Gathering around the breakfast table, our shared silence spoke volumes. We sought solace in the simple act of breaking bread together, a familiar routine that offered a semblance of normalcy amidst the lingering unease. No words were spoken of the night's horrors; instead, we focused on the mundane tasks of the morning, the clinking of cutlery and the aroma of freshly brewed coffee serving as a comforting backdrop to our collective attempt at healing.
As the day unfolded, we busied ourselves with the routine tasks, finding solace in the familiar rhythms. Dusting shelves, tending to neglected plants, and tidying up the remnants of the night's chaos became acts of therapy, a means of grounding ourselves in the reassuring normalcy of domesticity.
The weight of exhaustion settled upon our shoulders, and we allowed ourselves moments of respite as the day wore on. Sunday, a day of rest, offered a reprieve. We retreated to the cozy corners of our home, seeking solace in the embrace of soft couches and plush pillows.
As the hours slipped away, a quiet calm enveloped our home. The once-turbulent waves of fear and uncertainty settled into a gentle ebb and flow. Laughter and conversation, began to permeate the air, intermingling with the familiar sounds of a household in motion.
As the evening sun began to dip below the horizon, casting a warm glow through the living room window, we settled down in front of the TV, seeking solace in laughter and lightheartedness.
I reached for the remote control, ready to immerse ourselves in the comedic world of a streaming service, when something caught our attention. The TV screen flickered to life, displaying the urgent and captivating headlines of the news. A mixture of curiosity and a tinge of apprehension filled the room, prompting me to pause and leave the news channel playing.
The news anchor's voice echoed through the room, delivering the shocking report of a missing family. My wife leaned forward, her eyes fixed on the TV, her voice trembling with concern. Amelia, her eyes wide with curiosity, leaned closer to the TV, her Teddy bear still clutched tightly in her arms as she was listening to the newsreader.
“This is a breaking news update on a harrowing incident that has shaken the community to its core. The Hudson family, who embarked on a seemingly routine hiking trip into the serene depths of the nearby forest several weeks ago, has tragically met a devastating fate. Today, authorities have confirmed the discovery and identification of their camper van and remains, a discovery that has left investigators, medical examiners, and locals alike in a state of shock and disbelief. The process of identifying the bodies was nothing short of a nightmare for the dedicated team of forensic experts. The unimaginable horror that unfolded in those woods rendered their task exceptionally challenging. Their bodies, torn apart by an unknown and unimaginable force, presented investigators with an enigma that defied explanation. Their positions were grotesquely twisted, their injuries inexplicable and mind-boggling. According to the investigators, an unknown force seriously damaged their RV as well. Medical examiners, renowned for their expertise, were left dumbfounded as they grappled with the mysterious circumstances surrounding this tragic event. The sheer brutality of their demise left them searching for answers that seemed to lie just beyond their reach. The bite marks, enormous in size and ferocity, left on the bodies only added to the perplexity of the situation. Astonishingly, DNA testing revealed that these bite marks belonged to an unidentified creature, sending shockwaves of fear and disbelief through the community. The repercussions of this shocking revelation have reverberated throughout the town, leaving residents on edge and gripped by a pervasive sense of fear and uncertainty. The once serene forest, a place of solace and tranquility, now holds untold horrors that have shattered the peace and shattered the lives of the Hudson family. Authorities advise everyone not to go into the forest until they find out what happened and what killed the family.”
As the newsreader went on we all stopped eating our popocorn.
“In light of these disturbing developments, it is my duty to advise against venturing into the forest at this time. The safety and security that once accompanied our tranquil natural surroundings have been shattered, replaced by an aura of uncertainty and fear. Folks, we cannot ignore the evidence before us, the evidence that points to an unknown and terrifying presence within those woods. I understand the allure of nature's embrace, the desire to explore, to seek solace, and to reconnect with the world around us. However, in this moment, I implore you to prioritize your safety and exercise caution. The risk is simply too great, and the consequences too dire to ignore. I urge you to remain vigilant, to report any suspicious activities or unusual occurrences to the authorities immediately. Your eyes and ears are our greatest assets in keeping our town safe. Together, we can overcome this darkness and restore a sense of security to our beloved community. In the coming days and weeks, we will keep you updated on the progress of our investigations,” the country sheriff said to the reporter.
"According to the ancient tales of our indigenous tribes," the newsreader's voice reverberated with a solemn tone, "the depths of this forest are said to be haunted by a sinister entity known as the Black Beast." As the words hung heavy in the air, the camera panned over the tranquil landscape, capturing the rustic charm of a small Indian village nestled amidst the wilderness. Suddenly, the screen flickered to life, revealing the weathered visage of an elderly Indian man, his eyes bearing the weight of centuries-old wisdom.
"The Black Beast," the elder's voice resonated with a mixture of reverence and dread, "has cast its shadow over these lands for generations." His weathered hands gestured emphatically as he spoke, as if summoning forth the very essence of the creature from the depths of memory. "It is a creature of terror, a specter that prowls the heart of the forest, its presence a harbinger of doom."
The camera zoomed in, capturing every line etched upon the elder's face, each wrinkle a testament to the trials endured under the watchful gaze of the Black Beast. "We know not how it selects its victims," he continued, his voice trembling with a mixture of fear and resignation, "nor why it chooses to spare some while condemning others to a fate worse than death."
The picture went back to the studio again.
“As you have heard, these are just local legends of course. We will continue to bring you updates on this developing story as more information becomes available. Our hearts go out to the Hudson family and all those affected by this unimaginable tragedy. Please stay tuned for further updates as we strive to unravel the mysteries that lie hidden within the depths of our world,” the newsreader said and they showed some photos of the Hudson family.
The images on the screen showed their smiling faces, frozen in time. The thought that the camper van I saw in the forest was the crime scene of a brutal and unexplained murder not far from our camp, sent chills down on my spine. This was something I kept to myself. But we all thought about the same thing: the next ones could have been us.

I have chills and cant breathe

/r/COVID-19Positive

TODAY'S RECAP

Deacon and Sheila at Deacon's

Hope, Ridge, and Liam at FC

Finn and Steffy at their home