Disclaimer: I have to shorten the words on this one because the chapter had gone on for to long and stole the word count limit. Every person in this section has my deepest and most sincere thanks for the art, memes, and love they have shown my series.
Thank you to: for proofreading, editing, and this art. Check his fic here!
u/Talentlessfurry for this art.
u/Roddcherry for adding Novel to the charismas party he drew.
u/everyveryever for this art.
u/Emotion-Senior for the meme.
u/Orphandestroyer99 for the comic and art.
u/abrachoo for the meme.
u/guaiwutongzhi for the art.
u/United_Patriots for the art.
u/migulehove for the art(s).
u/aMANTEIGAdo for the art.
u/SlimyRage for the art.
Thank you to each and every one of these amazing people!
CW: Accidental Substance Abuse
Memory Transcription Subject: Novel, Kolshian Scientist and Self-Proclaimed “Gamer God”
Date {standardized human time}: October 19th, 2136
The elevator ride took a lot longer than I would have liked, my excitement and anticipation making it difficult to stand still. Ada’s room was almost at the top floor of the building — along with those of the other members of my herd — making it take a bit longer to get to than most of the other Humans’ I’ve visited while here.
Seems they are keeping the various tribes in their own groups. The fourth floor has the Germans, French, Polish, and Austrians, with a few Danes and Swedes mixed in. I wonder if they did that to keep the different tribes from fighting with ones they don’t like? Doubtful really, everyone seems to get along well enough, disregarding a couple jabs here and there. Probably just makes geographical sense to put them together.
My pondering was broken with a soft ding of the old elevator doors opening. I stepped out of the elevator quickly and took in my surroundings. There were very few humans milling about the quiet halls as they went about their business. One human with comfy-looking pelts had noticed me step out of the elevator and had frozen where they stood. After a short, yet still uncomfortably awkward moment, I gave a wave with one of my upper appendages and walked down a different hall.
A few moments later, I pulled out my pad to look at the message Sindre sent me.
Room 441, hailey and i went to get some stuff for the sesh. ada will be there in a bit. see you soon, {censored}
From: Sindre(Human)
I quickly typed out my own message.
Thank you! I’ll meet you there!
From: Me
Stowing the pad, I made my way there. Along the way I encountered several more Humans, each of which having some sort of reaction to my presence. Mostly just freezing in place or casting glances at me as I walked by. Some of them recognized me, either from when we baked together, or when I was in the rec room when the news dropped and gave me a wave in return. There was one case though when a Terran exited their room, saw me, and let out a noise I can only describe as a squeal before diving back into their room.
That last one confused me to no end, as I had never seen that reaction from a human before. I considered knocking on the door before thinking better of it and continuing down the hall to my destination.
How curious… I'll have to ask Ada about that human and why they ran away from me... Heh, prey scaring predators. Not so long ago, such a concept would’ve been seen as the ultimate goal, any real-world examples derided as only that of a dreamer’s fallacy, and yet now… I don’t think I like the idea so much…
I made a mental note to apologize to them if we ever meet again and kept walking, this time with my form hunched and my pace a little faster than before so I could avoid bothering the Terrans as much. It seemed to work, and the humans seemed to look away a little faster than they had previously.
Arriving at Ada’s door, though, I composed myself as best I could, straightening my back and taking a deep breath to calm myself. I knocked on the door a few times, only for it to open a slight amount. Cocking my head in confusion, I listened to the slight groaning of the hinges before I gently pushed it the rest of the way, the door creaking loudly in resistance.
The room smelled of wax and freshly harvested Othll bark, like I had just walked into the home improvement aisle of a store. Walking further inside showed me the source of the smell, which was a set of candles sitting on top of a nightstand in the corner… next to a fire alarm with the battery taken out.
That’s a little concerning… that can’t be safe at least. I should tell her to put it back in when I see her… wherever she is.
Looking around the room some more showed it to be quite unkempt, with pelts and other junk laying strewn haphazardly across the floor. Personal knick-knacks and picture frames sat on shelves and tables around the room, making the places feel a lot more homely than the other rooms I’d been in. A large TV sat on the other side of the room across from the bed, which had been recently used, going by the blanket on the floor and the pillows tossed about. Against the wall next to the bed was a large couch that had clearly seen better paws, the top layer peeling heavily and scattering the little bits of plastic covering everywhere.
Sitting next to the TV appeared to be some sort of Terran gaming console, complete with bright colors plastered across its many faces and with several different wires coming out of it. Far more than there should be, since part of the case it was in had been smashed to fit more cabling into. Tools, used wires, and broken plastic laid scattered next to the patchwork job.
Seems they really did modify it. Makes sense, since I doubt it would normally work on our systems at all… we should really put that fire alarm back in…
Just as I started walking over to inspect it, my lower tentacle caught something soft on one of the suckers. Looking down showed it to be one of the chest pelts Ada had been wearing the paw I met her. Closer inspection showed the whole floor was covered in discarded pelts, including some I had never seen before!
I let out a sigh as I looked around at the mess… I hope she doesn't mind if I cleaned up a bit.
And that's exactly what I did as I waited for my host to return. It did not take long for me to find the garbage can and hamper she used for her used pelts. While I worked though the piles, I took note of the stranger clothes I saw. Most of them were the regular chest pelts that I’d seen every human wear, but others were completely unique or otherwise somehow unusual.
One such example was what I can only describe as some sort of winter gear? It had a very intricate design on the front made of lace and a very soft interior made of a kind of purple fabric. What made it even more strange was that I found several of these scattered around the room, meaning that she was wearing these pretty regularly too!
Hmmm… perhaps it is meant to keep their ears warm? That would explain the strap on the back, as it would be meant to go under their chin. That doesn’t explain why she would be using it though, and to have so many! It must get cold in here when the A/C kicks in, I guess. This place is really old after all.
Either way, they went into the hamper. I left the tools where they were, in case they belonged to different people, but everything else went straight into the trash. The whole process was pretty exhausting, but the room ended up looking much nicer than it had before!
Just as I finished bagging up the garbage can, the door gave a loud creak as Ada stepped in wearing some pretty comfortable-looking pelts similar to the ones she had been wearing a few paws ago, pink prey head slippers and all.
A few {seconds} pass as she starts pulling out clear totes full of what I assume to be her things before I break out of my confusion and flick her a tail wave.
“Hey Ada! Whe-”
“AAAAHHH!!!”
She screamed as she stumbled onto her back, causing me to drop the bag and jump in fright. We stared at each other for a moment before Ada spoke up.
“Nov’?! What the fuck are you doing in here?! You weren't… ya Allah, you scared the crap out of me!”
My arms and tentacles raised up in a pleading gesture after I realized what I did. “S-sorry! I-I thought you would see me! And Sindre said to meet you here? F-for the games?”
Ada took a few more moments to calm down on the floor, but eventually, she stood up and took a few breaths. “You’re fine, squiddie… Sindre didn’t mention how close you were so… oh well, doesn't matter I guess. Uh, what’s in the bag you got there? Also… where are all of my clothes?”
At her observation, I picked up the trash bag and held it up for her to see. “Well… your room was a bit of a mess, a-and you were gone, so I did a bit of… cleaning? Nothing major, just throwing away some trash and putting the pelts in the hamper.”
“Oh, well, thanks Nov. I was gonna get to that befor-” Suddenly she stops herself mid-sentence. Her eyes widen as she casts her forward-facing gaze over to the pelts’ bin.
For some reason, the human's usual light brown features darken considerably with a crimson bloom. Ada turned to look at me, and I gave my best happy expression I could muster to put her at ease. This time, the human's face twisted into an obvious forced snarl before she gave up, running a hand down her face.
“Novel, j-just a heads up for the future, it’s considered rude to go through someone's room and touch their… pelts without permission. They are, um, quite personal belongings, and we don’t let other people touch certain ones. Fuck, uh, don’t tell the other two about this either. It would be, eugh…” Ada’s snarl gets larger as she looks back to the hamper, the crimson still blooming across her face. My tail flicked curiously as I looked between her and the pelt basket.
How peculiar… Hailey seemed just fine with dumping all sorts of pelts on me when she was showing them off. Perhaps that's because she studies it, so in that case it’s seen as okay? Maybe it has more to deal with how I came in here without her supervision? Predators are known to be territorial in the wild, and the Humans seem to be that way as well with their many borders. Letting someone into your ‘territory’ must be a pretty personal thing in the first place. Which would mean that she must be upset that I just walked in here and started messing with things! Speh!
A tentacle reached out, or up I suppose, to Ada’s shoulder while my tail signaled my sincerest apologies. “I-I am so sorry, Ada. If I knew, I would have never touched anything! Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone! Do you want me to… put it back the way I found it?”
The human seemed to find my appeasement worthy as she let out a quiet laugh. “No, Nov’, you’re just fine. Thanks for cleaning up too, I guess; I was gonna do it myself, but oh well… not something we need to talk about.” She lets out another laugh as she walks over to the modified console and grabs a controller.
Yet, before she could get a word out, there was a sharp knock on the door, followed by it swinging open to reveal the last two members of our herd. Sindre came in first, carrying several different bags filled to the brim with snacks of all varieties. He gave a simple head nod and rushed over to the table by the TV to deposit his haul, dropping a few on the floor in his haste.
Hailey walked in right behind him with a plastic grocery bag over her shoulder filled with many different colored bottles of drink and a tray of small dark-brown squares covered in plastic wrap. Her free hand gave us both a wave while she walked to the table in a much calmer manner, at least when compared to her compatriot.
We both gave our own wave in return while I spoke up. “Hey guys! Welcome! What did you get from the kitchen?”
Hailey set her things down on the table. “Not much. Some dried fruit, chips, cookies, soda, juice, and even some fresh brownies someone made! I assumed they were for the taking since they had a few trays sitting out to cool down, but we didn’t really have time to ask since we kinda rushed up here. Oh, and the kitchen stinks to high hell for some reason. Might have to tell Emmanual about that.”
My head tilted curiously at the information as Ada and Sindre moved the couch over to where I was standing. Once it was in place, I took a seat at the opposite end from Hailey. “Well, I’m glad you got what you wanted! Do you mind if I take one of those, uh, brownies?”
She gave me a hand wave as I reached over and undid the plastic wrap around the treats. They were still quite warm from the kitchen! I took a small bite out of the corner to get a taste of it, only to then gobble up the whole thing in one bite.
This is amazing! It’s like strayu but… richer? With an almost cough medicine aftertaste mixed with that strange spice? Such a strange and yet fascinating combination!
“Such a weird taste… but definitely a good one! Are there any more downstairs?” I asked while covering my mouth as best I could for the sake of manners.
She took one herself and took a small bite. “Yep, at least a couple more trays from what we saw. Though I bet most of those will be gone once word gets around.”
My head nodded solemnly as I picked up another.
Might as well enjoy them while we can!
Ada walked over to me and flicked the space in between my eyes with her fingers. Her other hand passed me a human game controller before taking a seat right next to me. “Save some for us, ya green goblin! Pretty sure we’re meant to share those!”
The humans let out a soft chuckle while my face warmed in embarrassment. Luckily, they didn’t stay focused on it for long before she pointed to the controller. “So, do you need help with that? It’s not exactly built for you.”
Moving it around in my appendages was more than enough to prove that fact, but I tried to give her a dismissive tail wave while sitting down. “Don’t worry… I should be able to make this work…” I said while using all four of my limbs to hold the piece of plastic. It wasn’t exactly comfortable, but it’ll do the job for now.
“Not the first time I had to do this. There are a lot of different species on Aafa, and some of them have very strange, uh, manipulators… you just have to get used to it.”
There may not have been a lot, or really any other species in my home town, but that college certainly did. Me and Cloyta used to hang out with a few different herds whenever we had the time. That Tilfish remote was an interesting experience to use. Having to use smells to figure out a puzzle in a game like it was normal was really something else.
The TV and console suddenly turned on with a bright flash as Sindre held out a remote towards them both. He used his controller to navigate to a menu on the system to reveal a vast collection of Human games. I grabbed my pad out of my pack to translate some of the games as Sindre scrolled by.
Doom of Kevsar, Helldivers: Super Dating Simulator, Papa’s Pizzeria, Skyrim 2… all these seem fine, I guess. At least not super violent like I thought… A good sign!
Sindre spoke up first as he continued to look through the archive. “Anyway, we were talking the other day about which game to show you first, but we couldn’t agree on what would be the best showcase. So instead of one game voted in from all of us, we are each going to show you a game we think you’ll like best. Sounds good?”
My tail thumped against the back of the couch in acceptance. “Yup! That actually sounds really great! Get to see a wider spectrum of human ‘entertainment!’ Who’s going first?”
“Sindre is…” Hailey speaks up in between bites of her confection, “His system, his pick… still think it’s a dumb fucking game though.” He says as he stops his scrolling and arrives at a very brightly colored preview with several… Humans? Human-like creatures in what look like Dossur vehicles?
He presses a button to select the game as a grin grows on his face. “Hey, Mario Kart Galaxy 3 is a classic! You’re just mad because you’re bad at it.” Sindre turns his head to me while Hailey leans forward. “You’ll love it, I swear. Really shows off the real Humanity we have to hide from you guys.”
“That's for a good reason, you dolt. But it’s your choice…” Hailey said while wiping her hands on a napkin.
I hoped he was right as some cheerful music started playing.
{Memory Transcription Time Advancement: 19 Terran standard minutes…}
Sindre was right! This is fun!
The upbeat music continues to play as I make another turn around a corner, drifting a little to build up some momentum. The ‘Birdo’ creature in my ‘Kart’ does a little dance as I time it right and get a small speed boost, sending me further down the multi-colored track.
“Hmmhmmmhm, hmhmhmm~.” I tried my best to hum along to the music as I continued with the race.
I never would have thought that a racing game could be interesting. Cloyta and I played a few when we were much younger, but they seemed slow in comparison. Usually had a goal at the end as well, like delivering some fruits to a market, or maybe trading on spacefaring merchant vessels in the more complex ones.
It was super fun though! Competing against each other felt a little off, but I wrote it off as a Human cultural thing. A way of bonding, as with most things for them it seems. Other than that, I found the racing to be a lot of fun! There was so much going on, and yet it somehow managed to really keep you aware of everything going on at all times.
A projectile here, a fruit peel trap there, there was so much to think about that I almost forgot to pay attention to the humans! Which, if I weren’t here to study them, might have been a good thing. There were times the competitive nature of the game seemed to draw something else out of them, something I hadn’t expected.
It was… well…
“If I run into one more fucking banana, I will kick you down a flight of stairs and jump on your head from the top step!”
“How the hell did that hit ME!? Broken fucking hitboxes in this shitty ass game!”
“GET YOUR CRUSTY TOAD ASS OFF ME BEFORE I RIP YOU ASSHOLE TO ASSHOLE!!!”
…intense.
My enjoyment of the game seemed to be pretty one-sided unfortunately. Even by the already high standards of the Humans’ previous banter, this was truly something else. While I was still learning the game and slowly climbed up the leaderboard, the Humans all led the herd by taking the top 3 spots every time. They were so close together in some of the races that it was nearly impossible to tell who would win until the last moment, making their yelling even more vicious and bloodthirsty.
There were times I thought they were about to get physically violent with each other once it got to the final lap, but thankfully, it never came to that, aside from maybe some light pushing. Their… banter? Fighting? Uh… verbal abuse towards each other made learning the game a lot harder too since every time I tried to ask a question, my voice would get drowned out in all the yelling. They did show me the basic controls before we started, but it’s a little hard to ask for pointers when your coaches are threatening severe bodily harm against each other.
As I drifted around another sharp turn, my mind wandered back to what Sindre said when we’d first started:
‘Really shows off the real Humanity we have to hide from you guys.’
Was this supposed to be the ‘real Humanity’? I sure hope not… I think I’d prefer if they actually came to blows instead of continuing this barrage of foulness they are constantly spewing. They don’t even seem to be enjoying it! They have to be doing it for a reason… right?
I continued to think as I continued down the track and finished my second lap. The argument was starting to build up again as the stakes started to rise.
“Oh, yeah, of course you get a red shell in 2nd and I get fucking bananas in 3RD! Gotta love this piece of shit game!!” Hailey shouted, leaning forward like she was about to pounce on the TV.
“Not my fault you can’t aim for shit, dumbass! Just throw better!” Sindre quipped back.
“How about I throw you out a five story window?! I mean, I would if your fatass wouldn't snap the floorboards if I tried!” Ada finished it as he gave her an aggressive shove with his shoulder.
Yet, unlike how I expected, she didn’t push back. That's what makes this all so confusing! Each time they antagonize each other, the other person does it back, and they just stop! Their words sound like they mean it to hurt, and their actions reflect that… but they aren’t acting on it.
Hmm… the ‘real Humanity’, huh… Maybe I’m approaching this the wrong way? Something less about who the Humans are, so to speak, but more how they feel? They’ve been awfully emotional in every interaction I’ve ever had with them… Aggressive, too, admittedly. Maybe… maybe this is a way for them to vent some of that aggression safely? Around people they really trust with a game you can complain about, but demands too much attention to leave them to do more than yell at each other? Things have been rather… stressful, lately.
My tail thumped a few more times against the dilapidated couch, sending a few more puffs of stuffing into the air. The theory kind of lined up with what I knew, but I was here with the primary source for a reason, after all. I would just ask them, but…
“I am going to FUCKING DEEPFRY THAT FUCKING MUSHROOM {Ass Violin}!!!”
They were busy.
They seem pretty angry… but if it helps them deal with their stress, then I am just fine with it. I’m glad they are getting through it in their own… ‘special’ Human way.
In any case, it was still better than damming it all up until it overflowed and someone really got hurt. Safe in the knowledge that the Humans (probably) wouldn’t actually attack each other, I just resolved to focus on the game instead. The third and final lap was coming around, and things were starting to ramp up even further. The Humans’ false violence got even louder, and coupled with the occasional and really rather distracting limb shooting out and the rapidly intensifying music, my poor heart was not in the best condition as our racers closed in on the finish line.
But then, all of a sudden, something very strange happened. The Humans simultaneously began to curse louder than ever before, screaming and wailing as an odd blue indicator flashed along the top of the screen, indicating some kind of blue spiky ball rapidly approaching us from behind. All three of them illogically slammed on the brakes, clearly trying to dodge the oncoming projectile, but it was to no avail. The ball flew right past my ‘Kart’ and struck the center of the tightly crowded humans, unleashing an explosion of blue fire that stunned all three.
Allowing my Kart, driving at maximum speed in hopes of any shot at outrunning the projectile, to shoot right past them and cross the finish line first.
Wait… what?
A brief silence hung in the air at what just happened until my arms went up in the air
“Hey, look! I won! Hehehe! I didn’t know I would get so lucky on my first try! Is that sort of thing… common…?”
I stopped my celebration as all the Humans were giving me very intense looks with their stares. They lacked the familiar friendliness most Humans looked at me with, but instead seemed much… angrier.
Speh, right. They are still mad from before, and now I just beat them at their own race… O-okay, they don’t mean it, they are upset and need to let it out. Just have to get through it.
Seeing what was about to happen, I curled in on myself and braced myself for the barrage of verbal slurry coming my way. A moment passed as I waited for the insults to fly but… they never came? Opening an eye revealed the Human’s expressions had changed from fury to…
Amusement?
“You alright there Nov’? You’re shaking pretty bad… Was that too much?” Ada asked in a quiet voice while patting me on the back roughly. It took a moment for my brain to catch up before I could speak again.
“O-oh, uh, sorry, I thought you all were going to… yell at me? Like you did with each other?” My voice was a little shaky as I unfurled myself.
All of the Germans seemed to wince a little at that. “Yeah… fuck, sorry about that. Mario Kart is a pretty rage-inducing game. Shoulda thought about that beforehand.”
My tail attempted to signal calm while trapped behind me. “N-no, it’s fine… I did learn a lot actually. It was fun too, besides the yelling part. Um, can we move on though? I think I’ve got enough out of this one.”
Sindre exits the game with a nod while the others let out deep sighs. “Yeah, sorry Nov’. It’s one of the most popular party games Humanity ever made, so I figured it would be a good one to show you. Next is… Ada’s pick… we sure we should do this one?”
The woman turned her head to look at Sindre. “Positive. They have a vegan option in the settings, so it’s not going to get us arrested or anything. Plus, it's a cooperative party game! Feds seem to love that whole ‘herd’ thing, and Nov’ liked the last one so I’m sure it’ll be fine!”
She gave a dismissive hand wave before turning back to me. “It’ll be fine, really. I played this game as a kid all the time, no need to panic, right?” She seemed a little worried at the end of that sentence, so I tried to put on a brave face.
“S-sounds great! What’s it about?” I mentally chastised myself for my stutter and reached towards the table to grab another pastry. “Ahem. There’s nothing predatory in it, right?”
She grabs one herself and a glass of an orange fizzy drink. “Nope, none at all! Just some harmless cooking with your friends! You’ll love it!” Her enthusiasm helped me calm down as the game started booting up on screen.
Overcooked 5: Season of Seasoning.
Looks cheerful at least. Cooking is fun too… It’ll be fine, yeah.
I took a bite out of my brownie as the game's main menu music started to play.
{Memory Transcription Time Advancement: 23 Standard Terran Minutes…}
You know… I think I get it.
A soft relaxing track played in the background as the four little chefs on screen ran around doing various tasks needed to keep the kitchen functioning, like preparing vegetables, or washing dishes. A timer at the top of the screen was slowly counting down while a little ‘onion’ next to it with a Human face rambled on about something or other.
Orders start coming in quick, and all of us get to work in a flash… or at least, all of us SHOULD be.
“Can you three stop licking the dust clouds in the vents and actually do something to help me, PLEASE?!”
A trio of Human giggles was my only response as I leaned forward in concentration.
This game. This brahking game. They should use this for testing for intelligence like those quizzes we took back home, since clearly some people go brain dead trying to do literally anything that isn’t getting in my stars-damned way, or otherwise waste valuable time by huffing the gas coming off the stove!
Finishing up one order of seaweed wraps and lettuce salad, I tried to get back to the kitchen, but was immediately blocked by… a plate on the floor.
“WHO-!! Why is there a plate on the floor?! The counter is literally right there! It’s such a simple job to-” A ding rings out, showing several new orders that needed to be filled. The timer started flashing red as we reached the one ‘minute’ mark.
A deep, frustrated growl builds in my throat, causing my Humans to laugh for some reason, incensing me even further! We all get to work in completing the last orders, however. Things were going well as the Terrans seemed to (finally) get it together to actually make some good food. Sindre had just finished cooking the rice while Ada chopped the carrots. Me and Hailey were putting everything together on the other side and sending it through until—
“Is, oh my stars, did you guys really send over raw rice?! It’s not even partially cooked!! Are you all a bunch of mountain dwellers? Do you eat your dry grass with a side of brahking pebbles and pond scum?! Cook it again!” I threw the rice back, hitting Sindre in the back of the head with the pile of rice, causing his character to fall over with a cartoonish thunk sound effect.
The Germans laughed loudly at the scene, which made my face heat up in frustration. The timer was running short as we waited for the rice to actually be cooked this time.
“Nov’, I, haha, I’m sorry. I’ll get it done this time, have mercy! I thought the last one was done so I-”
My head turned just enough for my eye to be focused solely on the pale Human. “IT WAS BRAHKING RAW!! There's a bar at the top that tells you! Do you need eye surgery?? Can you even pass a driving test??”
More laughter.
“AND STOP LAUGHING AT ME!! IT’S NOT FUNNY!!”
A ding came from the pot to signify it was done. Ada immediately took it out and walked over to the counter to pass it.
“Perfect, now just- what are you doing?”
She wasn’t passing it over. Instead, she was charging up her throw way more than she needed to. I was just about to say something as the clock flashed brightly ‘till she threw the rice at full force.
Directly at my little chef. The rice beamed directly off the side of my character's head, sending me flying away from the plate and sprawled across the kitchen floor as the rice landed gently on the ground.
“ADA!!!!!”
The countdown is drowned out by the humans erupting into laughter as I desperately try and recover. Yet, just as I make it to my feet, the countdown reaches zero, and the mission ends. Defeat fills my chest while the onion man does a little dance to tally up our points.
49600… only two out of three stars…
It’s over…
I slumped against the back of the couch, fury and betrayal stirring in my chest while the predators laughed to each other for several moments. Their raucous, howling laughter eventually started dying down, at least enough for them to actually say something to me.
“Nov’, come on. It’s just a game. I’m, hehehe, I’m sorry okay? We were just having a little fun is all.” She ran her treacherous hands down my back in an effort to calm me, to little effect.
“Dumb game. Stupid… start the next mission…”
She chuckled a bit. “Maybe we should play a different game. You don’t seem real happy playing this one.”
That made my tail flick in light amusement though the frustration. “Now you sound like my Dad…” My anger at the game started to fade more and more, replaced with a growing sensation of guilt. ”I-I think that’s a good idea. Um, sorry about that.”
She removed her hand, but kept her eyes on me and the gooey trail now stringing from her hand. “Eugh… hey, you’re fine. If you can deal with us screaming at each other, then we can handle your little squeaks.”
The other two smiled and nodded in agreement while I looked at her in confusion, feeling a little offended. “My… squeaks? But, um, thank you... W-what's the next game? Hailey’s turn, right?”
On cue, she brushes her mane to the side and starts scrolling down. “Yes, actually! Unlike these two walnuts, I actually picked a relaxing game. A classic. An art piece~” Her hands did a slight flair, yet I remained unmoved.
“Hailey, that's what the other two said too. While those games were… fine, I wouldn’t call them ‘masterpieces.’ Are you sure about this one?” I asked while grabbing another brownie.
I keep eating these things, but I just feel more and more hungry… weird…
The Humans chucked as she selected her game. “Hey, have a little faith in me. I haven't met a Human alive that can say this game is bad. Just watch!”
A flash came from the TV as the game's title came into view.
Minecraft: Anniversary Edition.
“We’ll use one of the worlds we were playing on back on Earth so you can get an idea of what it’s really like. And, uh, make sure it's peaceful too, just in case.”
I took a bite of the treat and settled into my spot, preparing myself for whatever was to come.
{CONTINUED INTO THE COMMENTS}

New Chapter on every MWF (Monday, Wednesday,Friday)
[First] [[Next>]
[Discord] [Buy me a coffee]
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.

A few days ago, I received a file from a journalist friend who teaches at a private university in Montevideo. I known this person for years now and the exchange with her on our countless bar nights basically made me want to try to study journalism. After I started my career we became even closer and we shared concerns about the evolution of information, social media and the infamous cerebral callosity we acquired to endure the tragedy.
My friend, let's call her Valeria, was part of a public competition to accompany a minor scientific expedition to the Uruguayan Antarctic base. Her thesis was about investigating how information reception behaves in remote and isolated areas.
I barely read it , but basically tries to show that information circulates and is received in a particular way in these circumstances by a group of unfamiliar people living under extreme climatic and isolation conditions, having as an example, life in submarines and in military bases in Siberia. The Antarctic base gave her the chance to observe some of her postulates up close.
Finally, she was chosen and traveled with this scientific group in a commercial flight Montevideo - Santiago de Chile to later arrive at Punta Arenas and fly to the Antarctic base.
The last communication I had with her before she sent me the almost 90 photographic captures of the Journal, was on March 15, 2024.
We talked over the phone about how the weather was in Montevideo, that it does not stop raining and the cars are practically floating on the streets. She told me that the transport that was going to take them back was having mechanical problems and they would probably have to order spare parts for the plane from Punta Arenas. Then She told me that it is freaking cold down there and his colleagues are all very boring. Nobody has whisky for the evenings. We laughed about that part because I told her to bring at least one bottle of Grappa in her purse.
Before saying goodbye, she told me they had spotted some old metal structures south of the base. The soldiers told her that it was safe to go near that part so she was going to explore them. It wasn't there when they first arrived and that the recent and atypical heat wave probably must have exposed it. I told her to be careful and we said goodbyes.
Three days later I received an email. “Valeria shared a file with you.” As I start to see what it was about she calls me.
“Mauro? MAURO!, can you hear me?” She said in a nervous and excited voice.
“I can barely hear you, what happened?”I asked half asleep, while still lying on my bed.
“Listen to me carefully, don't talk, just listen” I could tell by her agitation that she was walking fast or maybe running. The creaking footsteps in the snow could be heard in the background. in the distance, a catastrophe-type siren was blaring.
“Are you alright? What happened? What's that noise?” I said, now sitting on the edge of my bed.
“I sent you a file. Transfer it to a flash drive, delete history and reset your cell phone, the computer and your email address. I'll explain everything later, it'll be worth it.”
“What? What are you talking about Vale?, what for? Tell me what's going on - I started to yell at her, in slide panic.
“Listen, I found something that is not supposed to exist. In the diary he explains everything. I'm going back to the base, I think someone is following me, I set off an alarm or something. Save that file for me until I get there and remember that... “
There were two loud booms and the sound of water invading the transmission. A choked bubbling and cracking sound reminded me of ice collapsing. My friend had fallen into the water, in Antarctica.
“HEY, are you OK?! What happened?!” - I kept screaming hysterically until the call was cut off.
I looked at my cell phone for a second. My hands were shaking, I tried calling several times but the phone went dead. I looked at the compressed file. I jumped up and ran to the dining room furniture, frantically looking for a white flash drive that had to be in a drawer somewhere. I couldn't find it, so I went back to my desk. I pulled the drawer so hard that it came off the rail and fell to the floor. I started to dig through my belongings on the floor, coins, papers, cards, nothing.
I thought, I struggled to remember where I had fucking put it. Finally I saw my backpack peeking out from behind the desk chair, I jumped on it and in the second small pocket from the inside, there was a cheap white 16G flash drive. I put it in the pc, downloaded the file directly there, took it out and fabric restored the entire system on the computer. I do the same with my cell phone as Valeria said.
At the time I didn't even question if those measures really prevented me from being tracked, and the idea that that was the reason made panic run through my body like lightning. Sitting on the floor of my room next to the mess, my body was numb with tension. After a few seconds, I rebooted my cell phone to try to call Lucia, her sister.
“Hello?”
“Lucia, it's that you? I think something bad happened to Vale, I hear her over the phone as if she fell into the water, and some rumbling. I don't know what I heard, I think she got into some trouble or some place she shouldn't have been - I realized that I was mumble and not saying anything clear. For some reason, I didn't mention the file.
“It can't be Mauro, I just spoke to her on the phone. She was at the airport in Santiago de Chile at the boarding lounge, we talked for about half an hour, she told me she was bringing a fancy bourbon to share and…”
I stopped listening, it didn't make sense, how could it be? what the fuck is going on!
“Mauro, are you ok? Is something wrong? it's too early, are you sure you didn't dream it?”
“Did you talk to her? half an hour ago? But...,” I exclaimed without being able to hide my confusion.
“Are you... sure it was her?”
“Yes, of course you moron, it's my sister! Did you smoke pot again on an empty stomach?”
“No, you're right, nevermind, thanks Lucia, talk to you soon.” I ended the call without letting her say goodbye.
Had I dreamt about it? I erased everything now, how will I know if I dreamt it? I hesitated absurdly.
This is surreal, I thought to myself as I looked at the flash drive in my hand. I refocused my attention and went to the attic looking for my brother's old laptop he left me before going to live in Spain. It was practically useless, but it was enough to see the file. I turned it on, waited for the decrepit Windows XP to load, and put the flashdisk in, opened the compressed folder and found two files.
“LabNotes.pdf”
“PersonalDiary.pdf”
I decided to open the journal first. From what I interpreted from the loading order of the screenshots, after reading it, I opened the image of the last page.
I transcribe as is.
Day 243 of the 2nd mission 10: 40 am. March 12, 2019.
I am the head researcher of the Psychological Area at the UN Antarctic base; I'm currently assigned to Project Sisyphus categorized as the highest classified rank.
This is going to sound crazy, but the person living with my family is my clone.
It still surprises me when I say it out loud, but after being able to replicate the brain-muscular history (a perfect copy of our memory) of any person and having mastered replicating every cell of our bodies at any age, it was only a matter of time before the development of social biotechnology would emerge. Now and by worldwide agreement, as a complete secret.
There is absolutely no shame or a shred of ethics in what we do, there is no longer any constraint on what we can do to the subjects for the sake of research. That haunts me every day.
It all went to shit so fast, I doubt anyone will come to our rescue. The protocol says so, the base in the face of an imminent security risk will erase itself. The structure was designed to collapse methodically following a protocol of incineration and sinking. The immediate perimeter has underwater mines that make the ice collapse almost imperceptibly, but deadly to anyone who tries to leave.
No one can escape from the base, neither the research staff nor the subjects. Our place in the world is already taken.
I only hope that this journal along with my lab notes will be found at some point. I managed to construct a small insulating gasket for it so I trust it will survive in case this part of the building collapses as well.
Please use this data to let the world know what happened here and don't let perversity define us once again.
To my family: I love you and miss you every minute.
B.
At the exact moment I ended the reading I received a video call that made me jump with fright, it is...
Valeria.
With my pulse shaking, I answered the call.
“Hi you! The flight was delayed, can you believe it? This one is absolutely in my top three, worst trips of my life. I'm really hungry and everything is so expensive here. What are you up to? Tell me something, please, I'm soooo bored!”
I looked at her with confusion and I couldn't manage to pronounce words. When I was about to modulate an answer she interrupted me.
“What's the matter Mauro?, are you on pause? Is the signal OK? HELLO! Can you hear me? Can you see me?” She started to walk through the boarding lounge looking for better signal
“Yes yes, Valeria I can hear you.”
She laughed and looked at me with a face between sensual and serious, and continued.
“Do you miss me?” while raising the phone jokingly as she typically does in her selfie pose.
“Valeria, don't you remember calling me earlier today?”
“I? called you? Nop. Why? Ah! By the way, did you know there are penguins in Tierra del Fuego? I would have liked to go and see them.” She continued his verbose conversation in a carefree tone, with her typical hand gestures and playing with his hair.
“Well, at last!” She interrupted herself and shouted, jumping up from her chair.
“We are being called to board, see you in a couple hours!” She said goodbye with a smiling sonority, and began to walk towards the boarding gate.
But at the last second, before ending the call, her gesture changed. She looked directly at the camera with a hardened and emotionless face and almost mechanically, she whispered.
“(I'm going to retrieve that diary).”
My stomach dropped to the floor and I could feel as if my blood was running cold with fear. I could not shake the awful and eerie feeling that this person, who was returning, whom I had never in my life called by her full name, was not my friend.
So, the next couple of hours I put everything in to transcribe the rest of important passages of the diary. Something was compelling me to do it, i can't explain it, Some mix between moral duty, and morbid curiosity. Here is my selection of it.
Lab notes. day 96 of 1st mission 08:00 am December 22, 2016.
Subject JON X012:
First physical assessments: Normal, alert and inquisitive, exhibits some alteration to screens.
We place 100 cc of sedative in room air. The subject attentively follows the narrative of scenario B5 “The last mission”.
The subject responds positively to the premises of the story, where he is asked to address an audience threatened by a natural disaster, convincing them to choose a certain path out of the city.
He offers to collaborate but fails to articulate the message with the power to overcome the simulation.
We resort to pouring 125cc of concentrated Psilocybin into the air as stipulated in the protocol sheet.
The vocal frequency and body language reading receptors in the observation room are activated. The subject manages to formulate a series of premises articulately and with discursive power, circulating around the observation room.
Successful reaction.
We move on to the next stage.
Case is filed under the label “Jobs Project.”
Diary entry: Day 96 of the 1st mission 21:30 pm. December 22, 2016.
Today they transferred subject JON X0012 for psychological evaluation, several in the lab were very anxious about this arrival. I was never the religious type, but I can understand why. Truth be told,
I always imagined Jesus would be taller.
*********
Day 106 of the 1st mission 08:00 am January 02, 2017
Today we received a new lab assistant for the night shift. Much needed as I was covering these shifts myself and am really burned out. The underground operates at full power at those hours, the hum of the machinery becomes unbearable. This must be why the rooms have an insulating structure.
********
Day 112 of the 1st mission 19:00 pm January 08, 2017.
The new integration is not very bright. He labeled the transcripts wrong again yesterday and doesn't seem to fully understand the importance of these. I'm going to have to go through the whole method with him again. I don't have much patience lately, it's not his fault, he seems like a nice guy and it's real that I need a second of confidence. Better train him from now on. Maybe start a sketch of a short explanatory document.
*******
Small introductory guide.
When the subjects conclude the incubation and breeding process (pages 19 to 52 of the manual), that is to say, that they have at least remembered speech and with it, depending on the time in which they lived, reading and writing, they generally begin to perceive themselves. Just before situational curiosity is when the psychology department comes into action. Either to run the “stand by” simulation or the main tests.
In each subject's file is the target of their cloning, the era in which they lived, and the recommended scenarios to trigger the desired response. If the file has X amount on the cover, this corresponds to the generation of the subject, whether it is the first or 10th time it is incubated.
Generally, it takes between 2 and 5 attempts to generate the correct simulation, and administer the appropriate drugs.
It took 5 attempts to come up with the correct amount of methamphetamine that subject AH X005 (Hitler) needed to function in the scenario, as the correct amount bordered on overdose.
Simulations are much easier since the implementation of multisensor AI. We managed to generate almost any scenario including temperature, smells, lights and sounds. We tried not to use familiar ones, as human smells are impossible to replicate. We found this out in a complicated way. We tried to recreate a conversation between RR subject X003 (Reagan) and his mother, but he recognized the fakery by the absence of body odor. His mind collapsed and we had to move him to the Underground. The people in Area C (Private Clients) almost lost a very large Chinese account.
After calibrating the subject, we ran both psychological and behavioral tests, scanned retinas, analyzed blood, as well as vocal and body language. But what has really yielded surprising results are the free interviews. It is amazing what some minds are capable of with the right environmental and chemical stimulation. That's why transcription is vital (!!)
Our area develops BC (Behavioral Algorithms) which are then bought by the private sector, and some government agencies.
To give you some examples: Twitter was an idea of subject JO X008 (Orwell).
Bots in social media and the use of big data was an idea of JG X002 (Goebbels) and KM X014`s worst nightmare (Marx) was bought by Amazon.
It is an arduous process and the success rate is low, but when we achieve the goal per subject, well, these results are a mein part of the latest revolutions of mankind.
So follow the lab rules, never refer to subjects by their actual historical name, and always remember, they are assets, not people.
***********
Day 117 of the 1st mission 16:30 am January 12, 2017.
Today is a rest day all over area D. I miss many things from the old world that I thought I would never miss, taking a bus, standing in line with strangers, and today I miss Sundays. We only have one on the month. So as usual we gather in the rest area to listen to a liberated jukebox that tries to lighten the mood. I know, right? Why I wrote about this “Saturday” photocopy, well besides the same nostalgic drunks, I was approached by a person I didn't recognize.
From what I understood he was a rehabilitated alcoholic, maybe that's why I didn't see him on “Saturdays”. He must be in his 50's, he was portly and wore thick black-rimmed glasses, he seemed to have a slight limp, I noticed it when he went to refill my beer.
I am a very reserved person and find it hard to talk to people. Truth be told, I've lost the desire to talk to people here. What can you actualy fucking talk about here, if it's not about the same thing. Everything revolves around work and some inter-area gossip, which never escalates much.
But yesterday was Clara's birthday and to hide the remorse and sadness of only having shared with her the first 3 years of her life, I had a few too many beers.
We chatted about banal aspects of life in isolation, and the things we miss. For him it was going to the stadium to watch soccer with his grandchildren. I think it was loneliness and nostalgia that brought us together that night.
His name was Sigfried, I don't know if I spelled it right, but it was clearly Nordic, i notice because of some of the words he mixed up with English. He works as the underground level security manager. We all know that it is one of the most restricted areas and what we have learned in these almost 10 years in the project, is that the more restricted, the less questions you should ask.
But that day, I think I felt the urge to hurt myself, to go off the rails, so I asked what we all suspected but no one knew for sure. I asked about the blenders. I wish I hadn't.
************
Day 126 of the 1st mission 08:00 am January 21, 2017.
I almost can't express how furious I am today, but I'm going to try because if I don't, I'm going to punch the new assistant in the face. He has nothing to do with this, he's just mildly irritating.
Anyway, in Genetic Mapping or area A, they approved the incubation of another Anomaly. It seems to be an express request from a major shareholder and there is not much to say. Anomalies are very risky to reproduce, nature is wise, and for some reason it placed them in history moments where they had their limitations.
It seems that after the crisis of 2010 with “The Russian Devil” it is no longer scary enough. New school morons... If they had been there they wouldn't even dare to think about it. I AM FURIOUS.
The arguments are that this case lived longer, that the clone would be in his 70s, and that he possessed noticeably more “civilized” traits. As if the court of the last Zar had not been somewhat civilized.
Personally I think this is a big mistake. Since the discovery that some people possess unknown DNA components and with the 2010 background, they should draw the line. There are certain things, still beyond our ability to understand. But it is delusional of me to think that there are limits, someday the absence of them will consume us all.
************
Lab notes day 142 of 1st mission 08:00 am February 06, 2017.
Final free interview with JON subject X012
Scenario B-24 or “The Dinner Party” Result: Normal.
Notes: Subject is grateful, positive, docile and hopeful for the future. Offers to cook next time by asking for spices and ingredients of typical Hindu dishes.
The subject is directed to the Underground area.
Attached audio for transcription.
Case is filed under the label “Jobs Project”.
**********
Day 142 of the 1st mission 21:00 pm February 06, 2017.
Today was the last session with subject JON X012, I managed to extract the last retinal and body language readings, as usual before sending them to Underground level. We ran the dinner scenario, the truth is that is one of the best simulations we have achieved. The subjects are relaxed resulting in the best free interview environment. This one was no exception, I must say I understand the charm of the “messiah” turned out to be quite an entertaining subject. I hope his next generation will be similar.
**********
Day 152 of the 1st mission 19:00 pm February 16, 2017.
I was tasked with the continuous monitoring of subject NT X004. I am not at all happy with this transfer. First of all, I know nothing about area B of engineering and technology. Secondly, I still think this is a really bad idea.
One of the laboratories has been set up with the essential simulation equipment and personnel. Tomorrow we start with the calibration.
**********
Lab notes day 153 of the 1st mission 08:00 am February 17, 2017.
First interview with subject NT X004, we run simulation scenario 54-A, “Signal from another planet.”
Subject is observed to be receptive at first but quickly changes to paranoid. We administer 300cc of MDMA via air, according to protocol.
We introduce the reconstructed figure of a colleague in a cry for help speech.
The Subject laughs and doesn't believe a word, we move to a physical approach plane,
I volunteer myself with a room operator from the engineering area, we show him unfinished plans of an experimental vacuum propulsion engine.
He laughs again and tells us that we are not who we say we are.
We administer 50cc of DMT and move on to the next scenario.
From the screen an astronaut with non-human features sends a distress signal and intergalactic coordinates.
The subject looks thoughtful, reassesses, picks up the blueprints and begins to shout out values and what appears to be mathematical and physical formulas.
Air is charged with percentages of absolute sedation.
Audio recording is attached.
It is filed under the name “Project SpaceX.”
**********
Day 153 of the 1st mission 21:00 pm February 17, 2017.
I'm not sure what happened today, this is the first time in 10 years that a subject overcame the deception of 3 simulations. We had to place absolute sedation in the air, as risky as we know it is. I recommended that we restart the process from scratch, but it was a resounding no, the client is in a hurry.
I need to get more involved in this case to recalibrate the subject. I don't know if I want to. The words before full sedation still resonate with me. “are you still using DC current? interesting...”
**********
Day 154 of the 1st mission 21:00 pm February 18, 2017.
Something happened, I don't quite know what. The rooms have an emergency lockdown active. Outside hear security personnel mobilizing. I tried the intercom but it didn't work. The insulation prevents my screams from being heard from the outside. If this goes on another day I'm going to break the lock. I'm going to set my backpack to the bare minimum.
**********
Day 157 of the 1st mission 21:00 pm February 21, 2017.
Yesterday I heard explosions in the B area. I couldn't take it anymore and broke the lock. Whatever it was I had to go out and see. The corridors were dark, and the underground buzzer went on, at least that worked.
I went right to the north staircase, down the 4 floors in near darkness, the power was failing. The entrance to the underground area was barricaded but I managed to see a figure peeking out from inside as they felt me making noises.
It was Sigfried, he pointed me in the doors direction and I entered through a heavily armored side door. I was surprised by the immensity of this section, it encompassed a large hall below almost all the sectors of the base. In front of us there were 4 large industrial pipes with switches and multiple smaller pipes coming out of their bases. These were repeated like mosaics throughout the area until they disappeared into the distance in the darkness.
Leaning against one of them were 3 officers in formerly white coats and a nearly dead guard bloodied on the floor. Poor guy, his legs were crushed with his flesh in the open. He was lying in a pool of his own blood.
He had a blank stare and was panting, it seemed from the pale of his skin, that his fate was imminent. My asthma began to pound in my chest sharply, so I reached into my bag looking for my inhaler. I told them between visible gasps of bad breath to please tell me what's happened.
One of the doctors had a badge from area B and another from area E which corresponds to bio-armamentistics. The latter burst into tears and said “We deserve it, every one of us, we deserve it”.
I knew the other guy, he is an engineer in area B. I could hear him babbling almost nonsensically about, as why they never thought about it, an issue with electrical power.
He looked at me carefully as if recognizing me and grabbed me tightly by my jacket pulling me close to his face transformed for the panic.
“He let them out, all of them!” but not only that, no no no no... he told them the truth. Nikola fucking Tesla hacked us and told them the truth.”
He began to laugh frantically with a face of absurdity until he burst into a choked cry. At that moment everything went dark. The emergency lights activated, and from far away and getting closer, along with the emergency sirens that began to sound, we heard a large mass of people screaming and running through the corridors outside.
Sigfried looked at me as they started to pound on the shielded door and said.
“We're fucked.”
**************
Day xx of the second mission, month xx of 2017
“()The industrial sounds of spinning blades, the cries for mercy followed by the thunderous, liquid crack, down that big pipe, into the green barrels, with the Monsanto logo, dripped down one side an elongated drop of pink paste ending in the letter E on the chemical label. FERTILIZER.”
**********
After finishing the transcription, my whole body began to want to flee, the walls of my house were tinged with a faint blue light as the cloudy dusk came through the window, the lights turned off by my abstraction at the computer gave way to the dark corridors that began to feel alien. As I gently closed the pc my ears began to ring as if under pressure, my breathing became more present and the vibration of my cell phone interrupted my trance.
A call from the office. It was to tell me that I had a vacation week pending, that by schedule, I had to take it starting today.
Sons of bitches, now they even choose your time off - I thought at first, but at the same time I found the voice on the phone very strange, and to tell the truth, the procedure itself.
The anger turned into confusion that only added to the paranoia. The sounds in the street began to seem erratic, a chaotic and strangely familiar feeling came over me. My senses seemed increasingly acute, and they screamed:
Go away.
I grabbed the old laptop, the flash drive and headed for the bus station. The short trip from my house seemed like a long journey. People on the street looked at me with strange faces, the cell phone kept ringing with unknown numbers on the screen and a strange idea began to formulate in my head that whispered “Them, Valeria is one of Them”.
Already on the platforms I rummaged through my backpack where I confirmed that I had the key to the family beach house in San Luis, 60 km to the east of Montevideo. I turned off my cell phone, got on a bus heading to another and much far away town called Treinta y Tres. Sat near the last seat and slipped my cell phone in my front pocket of the seat in front of me, got off and commented to the driver with a clueless face, “I got confused, I'm going to the coast”.
I almost jumped onto the steps of the correct bus to where I was heading, unable to avoid the gazes of the passengers questioning me for the last minute drop in. I sat in my numbered seat and defragmented in dissociation, trying to understand what I was doing, I was running away, but from what?
The images of the last transcriptions were engraved in my mind, the last paragraph was repeated over and over again making me shake my head from time to time trying to get them away from my thoughts. The road was dark and I lost track of time, the digital clock within sight of the passengers jingling since we left, reading 10:40.
“San Luis Station!” - I heard the guard's shout in low volume.
I staggered to my feet, hurried to get off and with the same impulse I entered the dirt roads.
I zig-zagged through the dark, cold and silent beach town. The moonless night and the smell of the sea calmed me.
When I turned the corner to the gabled beach house of my family, on the steps of the front door lit by a white light, was her. Sitting, waiting for me. I stopped dead in my tracks and a chilling vertigo ran down my torso to my throat. We looked at each other for a short two seconds, until she stopped and started walking in sliding steps towards me, smiling and playing with her hands, crossing and uncrossing her arms. The growing sound of the wind through the trees covered us.
“Darling, how are you? How nice is the summer house, I don't think we ever came here, did we? Is it the one your grandmother left you?”
I felt the adrenaline rushing through my bloodstream, how could such a familiar attitude from such a familiar person transmit such panic to me? I had to answer something.
“Yes, this is it. I came to clear my head for a while, they gave me a few days at work and I wanted to take advantage of it.” I tried to excuse myself with failed dissimulation, since I stuttered in the middle of the words.
“Yes, I know! We arranged it with them, so you can be more relaxed and as a gesture for taking care of the file. Ah! and another thing. I think someone stole your cell phone at the bus station.” She looked at me with a smart-ass smile.
“Anyway, don't worry, they already found it on a bus on the way to “Treinta y tres”. You can get it back later.”
At this point I opened my mouth to ask for explanations, but as terrified as I was I only mumbled a “thank you”.
All this dialogue let us half a body length away, Valeria looked at me now a little more serious and stood at my side. She took my arm petrified and I could feel how a strong smell of neutral soap invaded me, as if she had rubbed herself in it too much.
“Shall we go inside? it's getting cold,” She said, finishing the sentence with a sweet gesture of pleading.
“Emm, shure.” I said.
My trembling hands managed to hit the lock on the 3rd attempt, we entered, turned on the lights and from his backpack she took out a red wine. Our favorite.
“Bring me some glasses, Mauro”. - She said to me as she sat down on the armchair against the window overlooking the gentle hills outside.
She poured wine until he almost filled the ex-cottage cheese glass, looked at me and in a toast gesture said.
“To... Dr. B?”
I slid a little smile and raised my eyebrows. Then I took half a glass in one sip.
“Well!” - She exclaimed, leaning over and resting the glass on the coffee table, and continued.
"You must be very confused, I understand, I saw it many times, the mind trying to adapt to a new, unsuspected reality and in your case all at once. It is not easy. First, make sure that no one is going to hurt you or anyone you know, second, what you read in that file, as you may have noticed, is not intended for public knowledge. Also to tell you”. I couldn't take the stress anymore, I exploded.
“You're not Vale. Who are you?! You're almost identical, but....”
“Ah yes, that one it's a tricky one to explain. Let's try, let's see:
“I'm a version of Valeria that she accidentally gendered when entered the lab. In one of the incubation rooms she touched a scan button that photographs her mind for 48 hours. It contains a micro needle that took her blood and thus generated me.”
“The thing is that we were in a situation of self-destruction of the systems, and that part of the programming code of the protocol was also copied in Valeria's mind.”
“And Valeria? She 's... dead?”
“Well, yes and no. If she tried to leave the base she's probably dead. if she's still there, she's probably frozen to death or killed by the cleanup command, but basically, if I'm here, she's not anymore.”
the coldness with which she answered me made me lose the little calm I had, I got up from the armchair and started to back away with my hands on my head, I couldn't stop repeating,
“this can't be happening, this can't be happening”.
“Hey! Mauro, calm down, it's going to be alright. I'm Valeria too. In every way, I'm still your friend, I know who you are and everything we went through, really, it's me, and when I finish managing the leak, the code, it won't work anymore, it will be erased from my mind and I'll be me. So don't worry. You only have to give me the flash disc and this issue ends here. We go back to normal life and nobody will know about anything.
“I'm not going to pretend that my friend didn't die! Alone, fucking freezing to death, I'm not going to let you take her place, I'm not going to let you!” - She interrupted me.
“Mauro, listen to me” - She came closer to me and grabbed my hands, her big, lined eyes looking at me with sweetness, like so many times before.
“I AM Valeria, I have the same fingerprints, the same blood, the same DNA, the same memories, the same scars, absolutely everything. Are you going to tell my mother that I died? to my sister? Are you going to report me? Nobody is going to believe you at all. If anyone even wants to believe you, how would you prove it? I am an exact copy”. - she told me, smiling with real sweetness and empathy.
I could only cry, for my friend, for the helplessness of the conclusion that she was right. I collapsed on the couch, and watched as the hills swayed in the night.
“Let's have the last glass and I'm leaving.”- she said to me.
“After I give you this, and that part of you disappears, will you remember that you are not... really Valeria?
“No, there is already a simulation on pause about Valeria's last week, she won't remember anything about this situation when she wakes up, because the memory is simply overwritten.”
“So I'm going to be the only one to know about this?”
“Take it as a gift Mauro, a glimpse behind the veil. And if you keep it that way, everything will be fine” - The threatening tone was soft but evident.
“Okay, hand me your PC and the flash drive.”
I looked at her evaluating all possible actions and if this decision was the right one, she stretched out her hand and smiled sympathetically. I gave her the old computer and the black 16G flash drive with the file. She inserted it, typed mechanically fast until the screen went black.
“Perfect, That would be all - She took out the flash drive, threw it on the floor and stepped on it violently with the heel of her shoe, put on his backpack and headed for the door.
“Stop,” I said.
“The things that Dr. B wrote... about the underground…
“Yes, they are true, it was the only way to be self-sustainable and to be able to isolate the complex from the rest of the world. Even the most morally flexible scientists would question the work if they knew where the subjects ended up, and what we were doing with their bodies... Anyway, I'm going home, Lucia called me 5 times already. Talk to you tomorrow.
“Love you,.” - She smiled at me and closed the door behind her. I felt a car slowly drive away from the house.
From my pocket I took out the white flash drive and looked at it. Now I had a decision to make.

To preface, I miscarried previously at 14 weeks when I was 19 (24 now) and my biggest concern/fear is that happening again now when trying. I wasn’t trying to become pregnant at all at the time of my miscarriage and was actually unaware of the pregnancy until the end, but it still did a number on my mental health and hormones afterwards. In all fairness, I was nowhere close to being ready for motherhood at the time. I could’ve and would’ve made it work for the baby, but it was undoubtedly the wrong timing for me and my partner at the time.
Present day, I am very happily married for about 2 months now- we’ve been together for a few years (since I was 21) and were engaged for around 7 months prior to our wedding this year.
We’ve discussed having children of our own one day (he has 1 son from his previous marriage) starting pretty early on into our relationship and we both knew this is something we would love to do/experience together. I want to be a mother almost more than anything else, I always have and I feel like I was absolutely meant for that role in my life.
We spoke not too long before our wedding about me no longer continuing to take the pill and possibly trying to become pregnant on our honeymoon. Ultimately, we decided against this to minimize stress between all of the traveling, pressure of our special day going well, coordinating with guests, flights, honeymoon, etc.
My husband is well aware of my anxiety around pregnancy (not to be pregnant in general but just potentially dealing with that feeling of loss again) and he is so wonderful with putting me at ease & insuring me that no matter what, we will be okay and he’ll be there for me always. He was actually the one to suggest we wait to try until returning from our honeymoon and settling back into our home so that it was more comfortable, which was very thoughtful in my opinion and I agreed that this was a good idea.
We revisited the topic maybe twice since returning home but didn’t immediately jump right into it due to his work schedule (they’ve put a lot more on his plate than normal recently which almost seems a bit like retaliation for him being out a couple weeks for the wedding).
Thursday we visited his mother for the first time since the wedding and at one point she made a light-hearted joke about the fact that she doesn’t “see a little baby bump yet”. This comment really didn’t bother me any, I laughed a little and responded “Well don’t go looking at me, ask your son when he’s gonna fix that”.
I later accidentally overheard her asking my husband if we had been trying at all since the wedding. She even asked him if we have spoken with doctors regarding potential fertility issues that I may have.. I didn’t catch the full statement but, without a doubt, heard her say that he didn’t seem to have a problem conceiving early into his marriage with his ex wife so maybe there’s some type of problem on my end of things.
This really hurt me to hear honestly because I love my MIL dearly- she has never been anything but kind and caring towards me so this was a shock. I don’t think she meant it maliciously at all but it definitely came across inappropriately. However, my husband is amazing, and was quick to tell her that he doesn’t appreciate her putting that burden on his wife (which made my heart absolutely melt). He was very to the point and explained that we haven’t been trying yet but will be very soon and that he has no doubt in my abilities to carry and deliver our future children. At this point, I had to rejoin them in the kitchen because I had been “in the bathroom” for far too long, so their conversation ended there but I really appreciated the way he defended me in that moment.
Nothing was mentioned between us regarding his mother’s “bump” comment that night or even the next day. We both seemed to shrug it off.
Yesterday morning (2 days later) he asked to speak with me and of course, I was all ears. He asked if his mothers comment had bothered me and I told him it didn’t in the moment but looking back it did hurt a bit. He apologized for it and assured me that he defended me. (I already knew he did because I had overheard it but he still doesn’t know I hear their small exchange) He then asked me how I felt about no longer taking the pill and beginning to try expanding our little family. I was a bit in shock at the moment and not because I don’t want to, but because I’ve never wanted anything more and I’m extremely nervous.
He told me that he didn’t expect an answer right then and there and if I needed time together my thoughts on it then he completely understood.
I did just that. I thought about it ALLLL day. I decided I would cook a nice dinner for us and had it ready when he got home from work. After we ate, he offered to do the dishes for me and I figured it would be a good time to talk to him about everything.
After a lot of thinking, I told him I’m ready. I want this more than anything and with him especially. He’s an amazing dad to his son from his first marriage (which is a big reason I fell for him the way I did) and I couldn’t think of someone better for my future children to call dad. I told him that starting today, I’m not going to be taking my pill anymore and we can go from here.
We will likely have to wait for my cycle to regulate itself again to expect conception since my pill eliminated my periods for the last couple years.
I’m unsure how long that might take but this is the beginning of a very exciting journey!
Any advise or stories greatly appreciated!!
Specific Qs I have are:
Anyone who has tried after a previous loss, were you nervous like I am of experiencing the same outcome and if so, do you have any advice for overcoming this?
If you were taking the pill- how long did it take you to conceive after stopping?
In general what are the best ways to go about conception? Positions, diets, etc.?
& Just a disclaimer before anyone comments it: no I promise my MILs comments are absolutely not my reason for stopping my contraceptive and really didn’t get under my skin as much as they probably should’ve in hindsight. I have ALWAYS wanted to be a mother and I feel like I’m more ready than ever right now. My husband and I have all the means to do so and are in a good place financially for it. I’m doing this because it feels right and I want to. I just figured I’d add the MIL part to this since it was so recent and in my opinion sparked a much needed, healthy conversation between my husband and I in which we both agreed we were ready to start trying.

My parents were strict growing up. In particular, my sister and I had a tightly enforced curfew - no going out after 6PM. As a homebody who preferred to read in my room, I didn't mind much.
My older sister Jasmine hated it. She misbehaved frequently, stayed out late and made friends our parents didn't approve of. Dad would lock her in the house when she came back from school, and she would throw ear splitting tantrums that gave everyone headaches. The more they tried to control her, the more she rebelled, until she became an absolute menace. We fought a lot too - she spat in my food at the dinner table, and I pulled her hair in return. My parents would scream at her to stop and stand in the corner for an hour as punishment. They threatened that if her behavior continued, they would send her away to a boarding school for difficult children, where the punishments wouldn't be as kind.
The final straw came when I was ten and Jasmine was fourteen. Mom found a pack of cigarettes in Jasmine's room. She came to us at the dinner table.
"Jasmine," she said calmly, holding up the pack. "What is this?"
I saw the color drain from Jasmine's face. She'd gotten them from an older boy at school. Her expression cycled through fear, dread, denial then rage in a few seconds. A violent argument broke out.
"Fuck you!" She screamed, "They're mine and you bet I'm gonna smoke them! You can't fucking tell me what to do!"
My parents decided it was time to play their final card. It was boarding school, or getting disowned and put up for adoption. They had enough, and as she was becoming older, taller and more violent, they were starting to become concerned for the family's safety. She had little choice, and a month later, dad took her on a flight to the boarding school. I don't remember many details about it from listening to their conversations. I just picked up the fact that it was in a hilly area in a far away state, and they took discipline seriously there. No technology, makeup or drugs were allowed, there was a strict daily schedule beginning at 5AM and ending at 9AM sharp, and those who broke the rules were served their just desserts.
"See ya in fifty years," I taunted, "enjoy being a nun."
She stuck her tongue out at me and flipped me the middle finger. She disappeared, and the front door slammed shut.
The home was much quieter thereafter. I liked it at first. No more fighting over stuff and screaming around the house. But over time, it got lonely, especially on the evenings and weekends. I now felt like an only child.
Despite our differences, Jas and I did have a few good laughs over dumb Youtube videos on the odd occasion. Three months had passed since she had left, but the entire time I never heard my parents call Jas or the school for updates. I asked about Jas a couple times after a few months.
"Is she coming back?" I asked.
"Of course, dear. She's there for a year, so she'll be back when the school year ends," she replied.
The year droned on, and half a year passed in a blink. I started taking violin lessons, and my parents even extended the curfew to let me attend late night school events. It helped me make some more friends, and the extension allowed me to stay at their houses, as long as my parents approved of them. Being accustomed to restrictions for my whole life, those allowances were a breath of fresh air. Still, I was alone in my room most of the time, and the house felt empty.
I came home from school one day and both my parents were still at work. As I went to my room and set my things down, I heard the home phone ringing from downstairs.
Taking off my coat as I walked down the stairs, I went to answer it.
"Hello?"
"HELP ME! HELP!" A shrill voice shrieked from the other end. All the hairs on the back of my neck stood up instantly as soon as I heard it, and my heart rate began to accelerate. I held the phone a little further from my ear.
"Jas?" I asked.
"Harry," she sobbed, a terrified urgency in her voice, "I need help, please. Where's mom and dad?"
"They're at work," I replied.
"Harry, I'm sorry." Her voice became quieter. "I'm sorry I spat in your vegetables. I'm sorry I called you a dumbass. Tell mom and dad I'm sorry I gave them hell. They didn't deserve all of that. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you guys, I swear."
"I know, Jas," I said, concerned, "but what's going on?"
"Oh my God, they're coming," she whimpered, "they're gonna get me, I can't run anymore. Fuck…"
I heard a loud smash and commotion on the other side, and screaming erupted from the other end of the line. Ear piercing screams that could've shattered glass. They became more intense but quieter, as if she was being dragged away from the receiver.
"No, NO! PLEASE DON'T! HELP!"
The line hung up.
Shaking, I called mom and dad immediately. When they came home, I explained what happened and thought Jas was in serious danger. Mom hurriedly called the school, and the woman on the other end explained that Jas had a tantrum earlier, but was otherwise fine and didn't want to speak to her. She took that as sufficient, and hung up. I pressed her a little, but that pissed her off.
"It's just one of her tantrums, and she's being dealt with. She's getting the help she needs. I don't want to hear you mention it again, Harry."
I never recalled Jas apologizing during a tantrum. Before then, she had never apologized once in her life. It was very out of character. I knew something wasn't right, but I couldn't do anything about it. I tried calling the unknown number back from the home phone a couple of times when my parents weren't at home, but to no avail. Three months passed. Some nights I would wake up drenched in sweat, screams ringing in my ears.
The end of the school year came, and I thought it was time for Jasmine to return home. I asked dad about her.
"They've said she's making really good progress, so she's going to stay for a few more years," he beamed.
"How do you know she's even alive?" I asked.
"What kind of question is that?" He laughed. "She spoke to us herself, sounded like she'd grown up a lot over the past year."
She didn't come back home.
Over time, I grew accustomed to being alone. Mom and dad never talked about Jas again. They acted as if she never existed, and for some reason, I never dared to ask. Perhaps I would've forgotten I ever had a sister, if it weren't for the periodic nightmares of that phone call which returned to haunt me every few weeks. When I turned eighteen, I moved out and went to college. As soon as I left home, the nightmares returned with a vengeance, revisiting almost every night.
Back when I was ten, after mom had called the boarding school following the horrific phone call, she left her phone on the kitchen table and I saw the number. I didn't note it down, but it was one of those that was easy to remember. I specifically remember thinking it was odd that a number had such a long string of fives.
One night in my dorm, I tried to recall the number, typing several possible combinations into my phone keypad and tapping the call button. After a few invalid attempts, I was surprised to finally get through to someone.
"Hello, this is the boarding school reception," A voice came from the other end. Bingo.
"Hi there, I'd like to ask about a student who once attended your school, her name is Jasmine Collins."
There was a pause.
"What is your relation to this student?"
"I'm her brother. She attended the school about eight or nine years ago, and I haven't seen her since. Just wanted to know if you knew where she graduated to."
"I'll search the records."
"Thank you," I said. After a few minutes, she piped up again.
"Apologies, there are no records matching this name."
"Are you sure?" I frowned, "It's J-a-s-m-i-n-e C-o-l-l-i-n-s." I spelt it out.
"Nope, nothing in our system."
Silence. I grew frustrated.
"Listen," I growled quietly, "I know something happened to my sister while she was at your school. If you don't tell me exactly where she is right now, I'm going to involve the police."
"Sir, we do not appreciate unfounded accusations or threats. if you like, I can do a second search, but if nothing comes up there isn't much I can help with," she said.
"J-a-s-m-i-n-e C-o-l-l-i-n-s," I repeated, "do it."
Two minutes passed.
"My sincerest apologies," said the woman on the other end, "I indeed misspelt the name. Miss Collins was a student here until she turned eighteen. She was discharged thereafter. Would you like the address?"
A wave of relief ran through me, and my racing pulse began to ease.
"Yes please, thank you."
She gave me an address in Pennsylvania. The following Friday evening, I took a flight over and made my way to the location. It was a wide two-storey building in the middle of a well kept garden. Colorful, well trimmed rose bushes and plots of tulips lined the perimeter. There was a small fountain on the path that led up to the main entrance of the building. I expected it to be a house or block of apartments, and double-checked that the address was correct, which it was.
I walked into a reception area. Glass panels surrounded by wooden frames made up one of the walls, with a door leading to a corridor. A blonde lady was sitting at a desk, and some elderly people were talking in the corridor. There was a colorful poster on the wall.
'Celebrating our care home's 40th anniversary. Come join us for cake!'
Care home? I thought to myself, confused.
"Hi there," said the woman at the desk, in a cheery tone.
"Hello, I'm looking for my sister, someone told me she would be here."
"Name?" She asked.
"Jasmine Collins?"
She typed it, and clicked.
"Take a seat, I won't be two seconds."
She descended down the corridor, and returned a few moments later, pushing a wheelchair with someone on it. My eyes widened as she came closer.
The woman in the wheelchair had big bulging eyes, with pupils that pointed away from each other absently, and a crooked neck slanting uncomfortably to the right. Her arms and legs rested limp, feet bent in an uncomfortable position. Her thin, brittle brown hair hung from her scalp, which housed specks of dandruff. Her limbs were stick thin, but her midsection bulged slightly. She sat almost motionless as she was pushed towards me, apart from her chest, which rose as she gasped in breaths of air. A drip of saliva ran down from the side of her open mouth. She wore a pink shirt that said 'Mondays' and a blue flowery dress. There was a cannula and dressing on her left arm, and a yellow feeding tube came out of her right nostril, taped to the side of her face.
The blonde lady brought her in front of me, then flipped the brake on the wheelchair. She crouched down next to it, and stroked the woman's sparse strands of hair.
"Say hello, Jasmine," she said softly.
The woman in the wheelchair let out a long groan. I stared in disbelief, horrified.
"What happened to her?" I choked.
"She was admitted to us a few years ago, before I started working here," explained the blonde lady. "I heard she contracted bacterial meningitis at another residence, and got brain damage as a result."
"No," I said, shaking my head, my voice trembling.
"This isn't right," I continued, "something very bad has happened to her. How did she get here? Can you check the records?"
"Well, before I started working here, this place had paper records. Some of them got lost, hers was one of them, but what the staff at the time could remember was transcribed onto the new electronic system."
She reached over the desk and flipped the computer monitor around.
"Her notes here just say she was admitted at age eighteen having suffered brain damage after contracting meningitis as a teenager, and presented as quadriplegic with greatly reduced cognition and speech. She had a medical exam on admission, which confirmed this. No suspicious circumstances were reported."
"Where was she brought here from?" I asked in a panic, trying to read the text on the screen. "And by who?" The lady looked at the screen and scrolled down.
"Doesn't say," she said.
"Is that all you can find? Everything?"
She nodded. I stared for what seemed like hours, and finally broke out of my trance.
"Thank you," I croaked, rattled.
I took the handles of the wheelchair and unlocked the brake, wheeling it and the woman outside into the garden area, down the path leading to the front doors and past the fountain. I eventually stopped beside a far away bench. I sat down, still light headed.
It was a bright, sunny day. Children walked hand in hand with their elderly and disabled relatives along the green grass, admiring the roses. Some families were having picnics in the distance. A cool breeze swept by, the sound of water flowing like white noise in the background.
I looked in the woman's eyes, trying to find my sister locked inside. Her gaze shifted to meet mine. I could see in her eyes that she desperately wanted to tell me something.
"What did they do to you?" I whispered. She just stared at me, unblinking. A single tear ran down her left cheek.
When I returned to my dorm, I was angry. I wanted answers, and picked up the phone to dial mom and dad's house and ask them what they had done. Perhaps I should even call the police first, I thought, pacing up and down my room for hours, thinking about who to call and what I would say. Then I sat down on my bed, as a realization came over me.
Mom and dad had been good to me. Mom had been diagnosed with breast cancer just before I left for college, and seemed to be fighting a losing battle. Dad had lost my grandparents on his side, and was also slowly losing his eyesight. Their marriage wasn't doing too well, but they had somehow stuck it through for the family. Did I really want to do this to them now? I thought back to when I had asked dad if Jas was coming home.
"She spoke to us herself…"
I pondered what I should do next for days upon days, and I came to the conclusion of… nothing.
Call me a bad person, call me a coward, call me selfish. Believe me, I badly wanted answers to what the hell happened in that boarding school.
I just didn't want to lose anyone else.
I went to PA to visit Jas every college break, pushing her in her wheelchair down the pathways in the park surrounding the care home. Eventually, I graduated and my fiancée and got our own place. After we had settled in somewhat, we brought Jas back from the care home to live with us. I knew it we were taking on a big commitment, especially as we were planning to have a family in the near future, but somehow I felt like I owed it. My fiancée Marielle is an absolute star. She was an accountant who mostly worked from home and was happy to accommodate, which is more than most would do for a partner. Marielle even helped prepare Jas' nutrition at home, which we fed her through the NG tube, and other aspects of her care.
I came home from work one day.
"Welcome back babe," chirped Marielle. I kissed her and hung my coat up behind the door.
"How was your day?" I asked.
"Decent, same old. Did some work in the morning," she replied, "in the afternoon, I took Jas out on a walk along the river. I think… she tried to say something."
"Jas tried to speak?" I asked, intrigued.
"I think so. I listened closely, and she kept repeating something. It sounded like…" Marielle did an impression.
"Harry? Was she trying to say my name?"
She pondered for a second.
"No, I think it sounded more like, 'sorry'."