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

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

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

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

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

Hey there! Looking for some new people to talk to, down to chat about pretty much anything as long as you can somewhat hold a conversation haha. Not really great at writing these things so I'll just list off some of my interests and things I'm looking for.
About me:
-i like watching sports; baseball, hockey, F1, sometimes basketball.
-i love video games, I play mostly on my PC, but I also have a PS5 and a switch. Right now I'm mostly playing dota 2 and r6 siege, but I have and play a lot of other stuff too.
-I have two cats that I love to death, totally down to show you how cute they are!
I love movies, I have a pretty large physical movie collection of blu rays and 4ks, I especially love horror but I'll watch most genres.
-I also enjoy music a lot, mostly metal, but also pop punk, pop, rap, country, and some other random stuff too. I've been to A LOT of concerts over the past 10 years but haven't been to many recently.
-im pretty introverted, I work a lot and when I'm not working I like to pretty much stay in and relax for the most part.
-i work night shift, i I have a pretty unorthodox schedule and sleep during the day and I'm up all night haha
I have 6 tattoos!
I don't smoke or drink, I don't really mind or care if you do though!
Physically im 6 foot tall hazel eyes with glasses and short brown hair. Medium build, a bit of a dad bod.
That's pretty much it, I'm sure there's a lot more I could include but I'll save that for later. Now here's some things I'm looking for!
What I'm looking for:
-someone who can somewhat hold a conversation and is actually interested in getting to know each other
-down to share selfies and possibly down to voice chat in the near future
down to switch to another platform, I don't really want to use the chat feature on here, sorry.
-open to the possibility of something flirty, and or just friendship. I'm not strictly looking for friendship only.
That's mostly it I think. Shoot me a message with a little about yourself if you're interested

Hi all!! I recently inherited a roughly 30x40 foot greenhouse!! I’m still considering what to put in. Rather than filling it with a bunch of plants, I want to try to turn it into a miniature butterfly garden! I know my must haves so far are dwarf fugi apples, hydrangeas, and some kind of climbing, thronless rose. I plan to grow maintaining a 7-8 zone in my greenhouse and all these plants (as far as my research has gone) do very well in that area and with their different idea sun conditions, they seem to compliment each other well. I’m pretty much game for any other suggestions you might have! My favorite colors are blue, pink, red, and purple! Not a huge fan of orange, and yellow.
Now here’s the fun part. I really want butterflies in my garden (I know they aren’t the best pollinators out there, but what they miss on, I’ll be manually doing with a feather duster or just by tapping). And in my state, I can purchase eggs! How many butterflies might I need to maintain a steady population? I like any kind of butterfly, but painted ladies are native to my area and are abundant for sale on the internet. Thank you all for your help and suggestions :)

So I posted about a month ago that I bought the Nooro full body massagers after getting an ad for them.
They're little wireless electrical muscle stimulators, and I still LOOOOOOOVE them. OMG. 100% the best thing I've bought to help with the Cipro bullshit.
So then I got follow up ads for their leg massagers - basically cordless wraps for the lower legs to squeeze, pulse, and heat massage the calves.
You GUYS. OMFG.
I'm laying here with the little body massagers on my piriformis (bullshit unrelated to Cipro), and lower back (gets fucked up from my foot tendon issues), and the leg massagers on my lower legs.
Everything is flashing, humming, and vibrating, I'm sure I look super sci fi, but DAMN I feel good. Like... Really good.
I bought a cute little rose gold metallic makeup bag to keep the body massagers in, need to find something cute for the leg massagers, but I wanted to tell you that these are the TITS.
Obviously we're all messed up in different ways, but if you have the same sort of foot and leg tendon issues I do (especially with the run off pain BS - Tendon problems causing muscle stiffness, and one problem sort of snowballing along the line), I totally recommend giving these a try if you can.
The calf and shin nonsense was causing a lot of problems for me (problems radiating to feet, knees, hips, and back), this knocks it right out.
Caveat: their customer service is pretty horseshit - AND they nag you to death with emails - but I'll deal with it for this kind of relief!
Anyway, I just fired off an order for their foot massager (looks like an e-stim mat), and figured I should update.
I've blown so much money on mobility aids and pain relief ever since the cipro, it feels good to finally come across something that really helps - so I'm hoping it could help others, too.

i have been keeping a list of recurring jokes / inside jokes in the office and i have a lot, things i think the writers had as inside jokes, and i knowww i'm missing bunch. please contribute!
here's what i have so far: im listing the joke and then (the episodes). sorry my formatting is all over the place it's a working document

1. Jim hurting Phyllis w soccer ball: 5:22 dream team -the convict (3:9)
   
2. cotton swab hurts Andy: The incentive ep where he gets a butt tattoo (8:2) Cafe disco when Kelly is gonna pierce his ear (5:27)
   
3. Oscar and the hardwood floors : -when dwight shoots the floor (7:24) -when they do the espresso tasting and redo the office (9:11)
   
4. “Stay out of this you” -season 3 michael scott and Andy sales episode -early season Halloween michael has a cutout of himself -s4 EP 8 - money part 2 —- 2:51
   
5. Naming types of clothes -(3:22): in Victoria’s Secret michael keeps asking angela if e wants a t back or a .... -(3:3) when Dwight goes behind Michael’s back and talks to jan and asks if she got a teddy camisole t back - the coup
   
6. upturned broom w a bucket for a head - instead of new boss, Stanley (beach day!) (3:24) Old vacuum cleaner that’s broken for manager - Pam on dwight in the coup (3:3)
   
7. Do you need us for any of this?” JIM to michael in an office meeting —- crime aid when hes describing how the Springsteen tickets seem too good to be true And “a head of an egret, with the body of a...””-- fun run
   
8. Kevin & Dwight with fireworks End of the ___ EP Right before Pam & Jim’s wedding - Kevin asks about the fireworks
   
9. Dwight giving rousing communism speech season 6:3 - when Jim is the manager and they’re putting beans on everyone’s faces and dwight tries to get everyone to rise up When he’s public speaking giving the award (2:17)
   
10. “Why are you limping” michael in season 6 EP 9 - michael limps after the slap Andy in where dwight shoots the floor and his ear is ringing (7:24)
    
11. Also Kelly piercing Andy’s ear? Cafe disco & niagra? kelly andy dance-off AND ear pierce? (5:27) /// (6:4)
    
12. YouTube being an entity that can film things Product recall: “and then YouTube gets a hold of it” s3 EP 21 The roast of michael scott - make sure youtube comes down to tape this (5:15)
    
13. actually letting the air out of the tires to get people’s attention. -dwight to Phyllis - 5:5 -michael to everyone (3:20)
    
14. michael saying something a lot to make people think it: 6:16 - he keeps saying manager to get jo to make him manager ???; when he's flirting w the bar manager when she's coming in to buy a printer he keeps saying ____ to make her think sex ?
    
15. Michael falling asleep unexpectedly in the car Pam & Jim’s wedding EP #1 - driving dwight (6:4) When Daryl is drivin holly to Nashua and he screams “was I saying anything interesting?” Not really (5:6)
    
16. Who is it michael? Who is it? Who? Who?” - Pam to michael. the lover (6:7) “Where dwight? Where?” It seems like you already know where —- Oscar to dwight (5:12)
    
17. Jim : I just need more time “I can stop this, I just need a week, maybe two” 6 : 9 double date Also Jim: after their honeymoon trying to get Pam to not go into Michael’s office with the gift. Can I think about it over the weekend? (6:7)
    
18. “I NEED COMPLETE SILENCE!!!” Andy doing DDR : s6 EP 17 -8:10 D’Angelo doing his juggling routine - (7:23)
    
19. Kevin sitting on you will kill you the delivery part 2: s6 EP 18 —- I don’t want anyone to die “just don’t let him sit on you” EP where michael is santa / Jesus (6:13)
    
20. michael talking about stevie wonder -benihana christmas "are you telling me stevie wonder doesnt love his wife because he doesn't know what she looks like?" (s3:11) when he burns his foot - would you have left stevie wonder? no we love stevie wonder (2:12)
    
21. michael not sleeping in a hotel room: 6:5 niagra - dwight has a room 5:8 business trip - the concierge sleeps in the room
    
22. "i'm not like you pam" angela to pam - 3:13 erin to pam - michael's last dundies (7:21)
    
23. pam's mom and michael (4:14) "who are you writing" your mom michael dates her mom
    
24. pam being obsessed w new chairs (4:14) chair model the surplus
    
25. i was just walking by your desk -andy about dwight in 3:13 ~23 minutes -also when jim gives pm the house "i got peepers like an eagle"
    

My hands are shaking as I write this, I have to document my story incase something happens to me in the next few days. I'm not sure where to begin but I suppose here is better than anywhere.
I've always had this weird feeling, this sensation inside of me that I was older than I actually was. By the time I was twelve, my soul felt as though it was forty. By the time I reached twenty, I felt like an old woman. I would watch people around my age acting foolish, and I always thought, "What a bunch of children." So it was no surprise to anyone that when I turned twenty-one, I left my hometown and college and decided to spend the summer alone by renting an old farmhouse in an insignificant town on the edge of an even more insignificant border.
When I told my mother, she had a veritable fit, unable to find the words. She spluttered and raged around me for days before I finally left early one morning to avoid her guilt and frustration with my choices. I was not sure why I craved solitude at such a young age, why I found solace in being alone and removed from society.
In high school, I had changed unexpectedly, cutting my long blonde hair short and dying it black, getting piercings that my mother loathed and claimed no young lady should have. You see, my mother was raised proper, as she called it. Good family, good husband, and finally a good life. She despised her perfect life being squashed by my alternative looks and feelings of the same world. She just didn't understand me or the world as it changed around her. I felt like I was just a trophy to her and my father, her perfect angel who had been tainted by my own demented thoughts.
I never told my parents where I was staying, one last rebellious mission before leaving for a few months, and it took me only a few hours to arrive at the farmhouse where I would be staying for the next few months. The land around the farm was dead or dying, old crops rose out of the dry dusty earth and had turned black and forgotten, as if this land was the example of dreams long forgotten and empty. A single dreary lane connected this desolate farmhouse to the rest of the world. On the outside, it was drab and looked as though it would fall apart. It had two stories but still seemed cramped and small, as if it were a single floor tied to the ground.
Across from the house, bordering the tall weeds that had reclaimed much of the farmland, stood a maudlin-looking faded red barn, one door propped open in a dejected manner revealing naught to me but shadows, dust, and a little mystery.
Next to the barn, staked into the ground on an old-looking cross, was a ragged scarecrow. It had drab brown clothing, but its face was oddly realistic, like it was watching me with a disapproving manner. Straw poked through its joints at odd angles like they were trying to break free from their confines. The scarecrow obviously didn't do its job as it was covered in no less than three crows.
I parked my car next to the barn and stepped out into the dusty yard before the farmhouse that I would make my home for the next few months. I checked under the front mat for the key and put it in the lock.
With a satisfying click, the door fell inward into the farmhouse. Surprisingly, the inside of the farmhouse was modern, clean, and looked quite inviting. I could smell the fresh paint on the walls, and everything was so white. The realtor had told me she would stop by tomorrow to collect the rent, and she had tried to chat my ear off on the phone about all the renovations she and her son were doing on the place.
I sighed with contentment and tossed my bags beside the door. I dug around in my bag and removed my camera, my father's old film shooter as he called it. I had taken up the hobby years ago for what I called capturing the oddity in the world.
I explored the small house a little more; the ground floor consisted of a single room and small bathroom with a shower. The bedroom was upstairs and was the only room, the stairs connected directly to the white and pink monstrosity that was the master bedroom. The pillows had laces on them and almost made me gag from the cuteness. There was even cute white lace curtains on the window with little flowers stitched onto them.
Out of the only window of the room, I could see the barn and the scarecrow. I aimed my camera at the pair and snapped a photo. From this angle, the scarecrow appeared to be staring straight at me. It stood next to the left side of the barn in a dejected manner like a chastised child.
A shudder involuntarily ran through me at the sight, but I moved on back downstairs. It was getting close to dinner time now, and I had brought some food with me.
After a few minutes, I had my dinner on the stove cooking and the crickets chirping outside the open window. As I sat down to eat next to the window, I felt at peace for one of the first times in years. The solitude of this old farm was exactly what I needed. The window supplied a nice breeze that wafted through the place, it smelled of grass and warm summer nights, made me feel at peace. The simple dish of spaghetti with tomato sauce and a glass of wine was all that I needed right here, right now in this moment.
That night I climbed into the frilly laced bed and sunk into the claustrophobic mattress. I felt like Goldilocks in the mama bear's bed as it was altogether too soft. From my perfumed bed, I had a good view out the window. I had left the porch light on, and it cast an eerie glow across the yard. The barn loomed ominously, stalwart against the light of the porch, like it was protecting the shadows from the battering ram of light. The somber scarecrow leaned against the left side of the barn.
With a small jump, I thought I saw its arm move slightly. I peered through my camera using the zoom to get a better view of the scarecrow. It was completely still in the night, and I laughed quietly to myself at my silliness. I had always enjoyed horror movies, but there was no chance I was living in one. I settled back into bed and put my camera down. Within a few minutes, I fell into sleep's warm embrace.
What felt like only a few minutes later, I sat up in bed. It was still dark out, I could hear crickets chirping through the open window, and I strained my ears for a moment.
I thought something had woken me up. I felt a cold shiver run down my spine as a cold breeze wafted in through the window. I pulled the frilly blanket up around myself when I heard it. A thud sounded below me, shaking the whole world into silence. The crickets stopped chirping, and my heart felt like it had stopped beating. Someone was in the house. I hadn't locked the door or closed the kitchen window, and now someone was downstairs. A second thud sounded like a boot on the staircase. Then another and another as something was slowly moving up the stairs towards the room.
I don't know why I did it, but something came over me. I wasn't big or especially brave, but my normal cowardice in social situations changed instantly. With a dash, I tore across the room, flicking on the lights, ready to face my attacker, to defend myself against male or female. I would fight, and I would win.
But as the lights turned on, ready to strike with my foot, nothing was there. The staircase was empty, and upon further inspection, the entire house was empty. The kitchen window was open, and I shut and locked it securely before checking the door. Nothing. I sat down on the couch, my heart pounding out of my chest, as I tried to make sense of what had just happened.
"I must have still been half-asleep," I said aloud to the room in a thinly veiled attempt to calm my nerves. It failed horribly, but I went with it. What else could you do in a situation like that?
After locking up the house, I went back up to that frilly four-poster bed in the bedroom and stared out the window. Nothing was in the yard except my car, the barn, and the same old sad-looking scarecrow staring across the yard.
Day 2
The next morning, I woke up to the soft light filtering through the lace curtains. Despite the strange events of the previous night, I felt strangely refreshed, as if the morning sun had chased away the shadows that lingered in my mind.
I descended the stairs, the wooden steps creaking softly under my weight, and headed to the kitchen. As I brewed a pot of coffee, my mind wandered back to the events of last night. Was it just a figment of my imagination, or was there really someone in the house?
Shaking off the unease, I decided to explore the farmhouse in the daylight. I wandered through the room, admiring the modern renovations that clashed with the rustic exterior. The farmhouse had a charm to it, despite its eerie surroundings.
As I made my way outside, the cool morning air greeted me, and I took a deep breath, letting the serenity of the countryside wash over me. The barn stood tall against the backdrop of the morning sky, and the scarecrow seemed to watch me as I crossed the yard.
I approached the barn, curiosity getting the better of me. Pushing open the creaky door, I stepped inside, the musty scent of hay filling my nostrils. The interior was dimly lit, the sunlight filtering through the cracks in the wooden walls.
I explored every nook and cranny of the barn, but found nothing out of the ordinary. As I turned to leave, something caught my eye. In the corner of the barn, hidden beneath a pile of old blankets, was a small wooden chest.
My heart racing with anticipation, I lifted the lid of the trunk and peered inside. What I found took my breath away. It was a collection of old photographs, yellowed with age, depicting scenes from a bygone era. They were of a man with his family, two young kids, and a beautiful young wife. The man had yellow blonde hair, almost like straw in texture, but he smiled so happily with his family.
I sifted through the photographs, my fingers trembling with excitement. Who had left these behind, and why? Each photograph seemed to tell a story, a glimpse into the past of this forgotten farmhouse.
As I sat there, lost in thought, a sudden noise jolted me back to reality. It was the sound of footsteps coming from outside the barn.
"Hello?" The dreamy voice of a woman called to me from the entrance to the barn.
I slammed the lid of the trunk shut, closing the memories up in a flurry as I spun around to be greeted by a quite pretty woman with blonde hair and a pink suit skirt combo. She had bright pink lipstick, that seemed to be a permanent fixture on her face, and quite shiny and sparkly blue eye shadow on her lids. I myself only wore black eyeliner. This woman was like Barbie in her proportions, thin waist, long hair, and large tracts of land, as my father would have said.
"Oh, hello," I said simply, always awkward in normal social situations.
If she noticed anything odd about me, she breezed over it in an easy manner. Taking me by the shoulders, she led me out of the dusty barn and into the yard.
"You must be Polly. We have been waiting a while for you to come. I simply must know what you think of the renovations to the house. Aren’t they just to die for?" The lady said all in one breath, as if she didn’t need air to speak.
"Yes, they are quite nice..." I started before she cut me off, not in a rude manner but instead in one that she would have continued on even if I had just told her I was not Polly and instead I was a mass murderer looking for my next victim.
"You see, me and my son Eli—yes, Eli, you stop lurking in the shadows over there," she said, continuing on as I noticed a younger man leaning up against the barn. He wore simple clothes of jeans and a white t-shirt but had a handsome face. His hair was brown and hung slightly over his eyes.
"I hope you don’t mind if my son here continues working on some renovations while you stay here? Strictly on the outside of the house, mind you. A fresh coat of white paint would make this little beauty shine. We would have finished by now if not for the accidents," she continued, completely unabashed by my silence.
"Sorry. But you are the realtor?" I said, trying to regain my feet under me.
"Oh my god, I am so sorry, dear!" she said with an affable cackle.
"Yes, yes, I am Barbara, but all my friends call me Barb. That over there is Eli. Eli, come say hi," Barb said while her painted talons rested firmly on my shoulder.
Eli stomped over, keeping his eyes low, in a sort of moody way that actually intrigued me, sort of.
When he glanced up at me, I noticed he drank in me from head to toe, and for the first time, I realized what I was wearing. An old rock t-shirt of one of my favorite bands and, of all things, my black pajama bottoms with cartoon bats on them that said "happy halloween."
I felt my face blush crimson as he made eye contact with me. He had very mysterious eyes of blue that seemed to cut right through my soul.
"Nice shirt," he said while gesturing to me. His voice was quiet and uncertain, as if he didn’t get much practice with the art. Knowing his mother, it seemed highly accurate.
"Thanks. Do you like them?" I asked.
"Oh, he likes all sorts of things, don’t you, Eli? Honestly, you two can gab on forever. But miss, I believe we have a small matter of payment," Barb said, drawing the conversation back to herself.
"Of course. Let me go get it," I said as I went back into the house and retrieved the envelope with the rent money in it.
Barb grabbed the envelope in her bright pink talons and snapped a piece of bubblegum between her teeth. With quick fingers, she leafed through the cash, counting it. As she counted, her normal bubbly personality seemed to disappear, giving way to what I gleaned was her true thoughts and feelings before the facade slipped on once again.
"Mmkay, perfect honey, this is the right amount. Now you have my number, so you call if you need anything. Like I said earlier, Eli will stop by from time to time to work on painting the house. I promise you he won’t be an imposition, just pay him no mind," Barb said in a sweet voice as she popped her gum in between each word.
"Eli, come on, please, I have an appointment in town," Barb said to her son, and they both climbed into a garish pink convertible with jewels hanging from the mirror wrapped in a gold chain.
Barb waved one last time as she sped off out of the driveway, covering me in dust as she spun the wheel around.
With their departure, I went inside and retrieved my camera. I spent a few minutes shooting a few pictures I thought were worthy. I re-entered the barn and pulled the old trunk out into the sunshine. Inside was only a handful of photos, some old clothes, and what looked like some old heirlooms. A beautifully old candlestick and a few leather-bound books lay at the bottom, covered by an old tablecloth. The tablecloth was a nice white with intricate swirling patterns inlaid around the edges.
Why would these things be packed away in here? They were so beautiful. I decided to bring the stuff inside for further inspection. As I lifted the trunk, out of the corner of my eye, I thought I saw something move in the tall grass at the edge of the property. I stared for a minute, but nothing moved again. I must be getting jumpy being alone like this. After last night and then this, I was just imagining things.
I brought the items inside and spread them out. I put the tablecloth on the table, and it hung low to the ground. I placed the candlestick by the window and took out the photos again, spreading them out.
The photos told me a story of a loving family that obviously lived in the farmhouse before me. They had a photo next to the barn, with a brand new looking scarecrow in the back. The man even had his arm around it; it looked so much cleaner and proper in this photo. I stared outside at the sad-looking scarecrow.
I took my camera and the photo and went outside to stand next to the scarecrow. His post hung kind of crooked in the earth like it was weighed down by the scarecrow.
I snapped a photo of the scarecrow as it was, then examined the original photo. I began resettling the post in the ground, but it kept sagging. I decided to pull him out of the ground and move him while I added more dirt to his hole. With some effort, I reseated him into his original hole. He already looked better, but I straightened his clothes and pulled out the last bits of straw that stuck out of his clothes. When I was finished, I looked back at him and took a photo, smiling while I did so at my work.
I then spent some time sweeping the front porch and banging the dust out of the cushions before I curled up on a wicker chair with plump cushions for a few hours reading a book I had brought with me.
I felt quite content at this place. The sounds of the crickets began again, putting me at ease as the sun began to descend. I had spent the entire day just relaxing, and it was perfect. I sat sprawled out in the chair, too lazy to go and make dinner or even move. My bladder was full, but I waited until the last moment before dashing inside and relieving myself.
That's when I noticed it, out in the yard. It seemed as if the scarecrow had moved closer. Once shrouded by the barn slightly, it now had moved a few steps into the light from the porch. My heart dropped at the sight. Not again, I must be asleep on the porch in the chair. I pinched myself, trying to wake up, but all I received was a sore arm.
I closed my eyes, then rubbed them, hoping to dispel whatever plagued my mind, but when I opened my eyes, I noticed the scarecrow was even closer. Halfway across the yard now, it sat menacingly, hanging crooked in the dirt. The scarecrow seemed to be staring at me with an intense gaze. The slits in its face were open now, and in the porch light, I swear I could see human eyes underneath the mask.
I moved towards the front door, locking it in a swift motion. I was shaking now, and it took me a minute to relax. I never took my eyes off the scarecrow for fear of it moving again.
My cellphone was upstairs, so I couldn't flee without the scarecrow moving again. I breathed out slightly and unlocked the door, letting it swing in with a creak. The night outside was silent, as if everything was holding its breath. The usual crickets that plagued me with their song day and night had fallen quiet. I stepped out onto the porch; I needed to go confront this demonic entity. Something about this still made me think this was a prank.
"Eli, is that you?" I called out to the scarecrow.
No response, of course. I steeled myself and put one foot off the porch, never taking my eyes off the scarecrow before me. Something seemed to be dripping from its head as I approached, a dark slime that seemed to be melting from its joints as it stood there silently, except for the constant drip of the liquid on the dry dirt before me.
I walked around the scarecrow, determined to figure out what was going on. As I circled it, my vision darkened for a moment as I faced towards the light of the house. I jumped as the scarecrow's head turned to face me as I looked away. The black liquid drained faster from the being, forming a shallow pool at its feet.
I'm not proud of what I did next, but I fled, taking my eyes off the scarecrow. I made a mad dash for the farmhouse. Behind me, I could hear the pounding of feet. I screamed as loud as my lungs would let me. My voice rang through the silence as I grabbed the door handle and wrenched open the door as I felt a strong grip fall on my shoulder.
I turned to defend myself, but nothing was there. The scarecrow was gone, the wooden cross had vanished, as had the pool of dark liquid in the dirt. The world sprung back to life; the crickets began chirping loudly, and my heart restarted. I slammed the door, and the air from my force scattered the photographs on the table. I ran upstairs, leaving the lights on in the house, and dove onto the bed, wrapping myself in the frilly blanket like a set of frilly armor.
I snatched my camera from the bedside table and held it close, determined to document the rest of the night. I held it in shaking hands as the noise downstairs began—the sound of boots crossing the floor to the stairs and the careful but heavy steps of ascension as they climbed closer and closer to me.
This time, I didn't lunge forward as the light was already on. I glanced out the window, but the scarecrow was still gone. I focused my camera on the stairs and waited as the steps came closer and closer. A shape began to form as the head of whatever was coming up the stairs crested the floor. Then a plain brown mask with slits where the eyes would be. It froze for a moment, then slowly turned its head towards me. Inside the slits were human eyes that seemed to be leaking dark red blood.
In the light, I could see it now. I snapped a photo of the beast, the flash setting off a reaction in the beast. The scarecrow moved so fast up the stairs it was a blur. My scream echoed throughout the house as it lunged at me. Filthy hands pinned me down, and the deep crimson liquid began pouring out of every joint of the scarecrow. It began covering my face, my eyes, and getting into my open mouth. I spluttered and kicked at the beast, but my blows had no purchase, as if the scarecrow on top of me had no substance to itself.
I coughed and spluttered on the liquid as it began to fill my mouth faster and faster. I tried not to swallow any, but it tried to find purchase as I was held down.
"Polly?" A nervous voice called from below.
Suddenly, as if the angels had called, the pressure dissipated, and I crashed to the floor in a heap, trying to spit the blood out, but nothing came—it was gone. Footsteps pounded up the stairs again, and I flew back in fear, closing my eyes.
"Oh my god. Polly, are you okay?" A voice said, and gentle hands grabbed my arm.
My eyes shot open at the human touch, and I grabbed Eli into a tight hug, where I promptly began sobbing in fear, my whole body shaking as Eli awkwardly hugged me.
"Don't worry, it's going to be okay," Eli said patiently to me as he hugged me back gently and began stroking my back.
I shivered in a choking sob and fell into his arms, desperately wanting to believe him, and for some reason, I did.

I love reading classic literature, specifically works from the 19th century, so I wanted to write a fan work for this game with that feeling:
“You are quite ridiculous!” came the vivacious and teasing voice of one student passing by the open window. This declaration was answered by the distinct and familiar laughter of another, carried on the autumn wind and drenched in the odor of decaying foliage and the promise of rain.
From his seat in the west wing of the library, parchment and tomes stacked beside him, Ominis Gaunt followed the sound until it vanished completely beyond the courtyard, sensations of uneasy feeling coloring his neck and ears. After a pause, he regained his senses. He shook his head, as if banishing the regretful thought that had then stolen into his mind.
“Why does he keep volunteering himself on her behalf?” He whispered, thinking of the owner of that feminine voice – a new fifth-year student at Hogwarts - an anomaly on its own merit - who had, in half the time succeeding her arrival, attained the magnetic affections of his oldest friend, Sebastian Sallow. “Of course - it’s because she’s new and decidedly beautiful.” Ominis told himself, merely speculating on the state of her physiognomy by the lilting cadence of her voice and the faint wisps of form his wand could communicate to him at a distance. Being blind since birth, he, out of necessity, had developed a magical ‘seeing eye' with the ebony tool he now pressed between his right forefinger and the book in his lap.
He hadn’t dared approach her directly when she’d first entered the Slytherin common room a month prior, for a frenzy of students had erupted around her the moment she’d set foot in it. From there, rumors spread like bees pollinating a garden after a long and depressing winter:
“The new girl had a ministry escort!”
“She was attacked by a dragon!”
“No, she rode the dragon!”
“Supposedly she was a squib before…”
“That can’t be - I heard she's a transfer student and can speak seven languages!”
“That’s a cover - her real secret was that she was privately tutored and has rare and explosively dangerous magic!”
These accounts became increasingly absurd because no one truly knew anything for certain, thus making everything possible. The girl herself was peculiarly private but charmingly polite - a combination that instantly made any would-be-pryer retreat into stuttering awkwardness. They did at the very least glean her name, which quickly became the subject of their fantastical speculations: Mélisande Clarusia Warwick.
From within his pocket, Ominis retrieved the note Sebastian’s owl had delivered him that day:
“Ominis,
Apologies for the abrupt change of plans, but our anticipated study session this afternoon must be postponed. Professor Weasley has graciously requested I accompany ‘MC’ to Hogsmeade for the replenishment of her class supplies, a task I’m sure you know I could hardly decline, given my inclination towards gentlemanly conduct. Incidentally, I cannot help but suspect Mel’s humble dismissal of her exceptional dueling prowess belies a deliberate modesty; there is undoubtedly more to her than meets the eye.
Regardless, I’ll make it up to you! If I’m not in the common room by nightfall, you know where to find me.
Sebastian.”
It did not escape Ominis’s notice that Sebastian, after weathering defeat by her in a duel during their first Defense Against the Dark Arts class together, had taken personal interest in MC and even dubbed her as such - among other names - needling her about the verbose nature of her formal title. Further, it was uncharacteristic of Sebastian to cancel a study session, seeing as he typically made any excuse to visit the library on behalf of research for his ill sister, Anne… nevermind the fact that Ominis could not recall any instance in recent memory where Sebastian had canceled on him, specifically.
After a moment’s hesitation, he refined the creases on the letter and tucked it back into the pocket of his waistcoat. He swallowed, brows furrowing and found that he no longer cared about the dancing plague of 1518 or the other contents of the book he’d since abandoned on his lap.
Sebastian did not come to dinner that evening. In customary fashion, Ominis found himself solitary - twiddling his fork on his plate - his company forsaken even by his housemates, who tended to cast upon him looks of cautious regard. They granted him a wide berth - huddling together three or four invisible student’s places apart from him. Through the soles of his shoes he felt the vibrations of doors slamming across the hall as students filtered out and the bench beneath him shifted when those occupying it left. The idle chatter of two teachers drifted across the cavernous room. Ominis sighed, folding a leaf of wax paper over a blueberry muffin.
“She was missing too…” he noted passively and wondered if he ought to have purloined a second muffin from the banquet table.
He held his wand aloft as he rose, a crimson bead of light fluttering like a heartbeat on its tip. The sensation of structures - rows of oak tables and benches - extended across the space before him. As he walked, he approximated the mass of these objects: how near they existed to his kneecaps, how firmly they were anchored to the floor - all actions thoughtlessly natural to him.
The passageway led from the Great Hall into the Viaduct Courtyard and a faint chill heralded that twilight had fallen upon the surrounding landscape. The tumult of student life had withdrawn for the night, taking with them a clamor of distracting noises and smells. Ominis meditated on the silence, finding solace in measuring the rhythm of his footfalls as he paced across the leaf-littered earth.
He imagined Sebastian with his freckled nose buried in a book in the Undercroft and smiled.
“It’s not the first time he’s worked through dinner,” he reminded himself. “Anne is lucky to have such a brother.” A pang of sadness worked dully at his chest following the mention of Anne’s name. Nothing had been quite like it was since before she’d fallen ill. “Even Sebastian’s laughter seems contrived these days.”
Suddenly a thunderous crack echoed across the hillside to his right, akin to a bolt of lightning striking a tree. Ominis jolted so forcefully that he nearly dropped the muffin in his left hand.
“W-what was that?” He gasped, his head swimming with adrenaline. The atmosphere reeked of burnt timber. Swiftly, he sought the protection of the cloister, his wand hand sweeping the clearing.
The path beneath his feet dropped into a series of stairs ending where the Black Lake licked the limestone and wooden boats rocked innocently in the building below. To the muggle, prepared to dismiss the absence of petrichor, this artificial thunderstroke might have signified a distant storm but Ominis knew well the vast and formidable traits of magic.
Someone was dashing up the stairs to his left - their feet tapping like raindrops on the hard surface. Ominis pressed himself plumb against the column and held his breath.
Her scent preceded her - like honeysuckle, mild and sweet. Following closely, the sound of her breath, quick and shallow, as though from a brisk sprint. The swish of her robes marked her entrance, swift and fleeting. In a moment, she vanished through the nearest castle door, oblivious to the presence of an onlooker.
Ominis found himself immobilized by his perplexity. He had, he was sure, sensed some great surge of energy, unlike any he had previously encountered, as she glided past him. An enigmatic metallic tang lingered on her garments, its quality imprinted on his senses. As he reviewed the day’s - no - the month’s occurrences and considered Sebastian’s recent preoccupation, a daring notion began to take root in his mind:
The new girl was forging a novel strain of magic.

THE CONNERS: "Famine and Floods"
Scene 1: Conner Kitchen
Dan is sitting at the kitchen table.
Louise walks in.
Dan: Louise, me and the kids are hungry on account of there ain’t no food.
Louise: Look Dan, there’s a can of beans right here in the pantry.
Dan: Me and the kids don’t want beans on account of we had beans last night.
Louise: Well, why don’t you send one of your kids down to the grocery store to pick something up.
Mark walks in.
Mark: Didn’t you hear? The grocery store shut down because of poverty.
Dan slams his fist on the table.
Dan: Damn’t! Lanford needed that grocery store! It’s where we common folk got our food!
Darlene enters.
Darlene: This is the problem with corporate America. They come in and shut down all the local mom and pop stores and then run out of town at the first sign of trouble.
Jackie enters, Mark exits (not seen again the entire episode).
Jackie: She’s right. They call it FOOD DESERTS (said in a very long exaggerated voice). Yeah, pretty soon we’re gonna be slithering around like snakes trying to get water from a cactus.
Dan: This just ain’t right.
Louise: Well, rather than complaining, maybe we can do something. What if we all pitched in and started selling groceries at the hardware store?
Darlene: That’s a great idea. It’ll be like the old days when people bought their groceries at the hardware store.
Ben: And I know a guy with a grocery warehouse who’ll probably sell me groceries at half off.
Dan: That’s it! The Conners are in the grocery business and saving Lanford from starving.
Jackie: Well, some of us would probably starve a little sooner than others. I’m just saying. And we could always eat MOM if we had to!
(Theme song.)
Scene 2: Olinsky's Hardware Store
Ben is standing at the hardware store counter.
Darlene enters.
Darlene: I just got a call from the villainous county grocery commissioner. He says we can’t sell groceries because we don’t have a permit. If we try to sell them anyway, he’ll shut down the entire hardware store and then you won’t be able to support us on my lunch lady salary, I’ll have to quit for another job, and Mark won’t be able to go to college!
Ben: That totally blows.
Dan walks in from the back room.
Dan: Well, how much is this grocery permit?
Darlene: It’s $500!
Dan: $500! Oh geez, that’s the amount of money I've saved up to pay off the mortgage. But Lanford needs groceries, so...
Darlene: Dad, we can’t ask you to give up your dream of paying off the mortgage.
Harris enters.
Harris: I’ll do it. I’ll go to Chicago to turn tricks to earn the $500 so you all can sell groceries and Lanford doesn’t starve and Mom doesn’t have to quit her job and Mark can keep going to college.
Darlene: Harris, you don’t have to do this. But you’re sure you want to?
Harris: I mean, yeah, I guess so. I’m not worth anything to the family anyway. I guess this is the only thing I can do to be any value in the world.
Darlene: You are such a good daughter.
Scene 3: Conner Family Room
Jackie: Has anyone noticed Harris acting a little differently lately?
Darlene: No, what do you mean?
Jackie: I don’t know. She seems just kind of down, you know. Not like her normal self.
Darlene: We’re Conners. Something would be wrong if we weren’t a little down.
Jackie: No, I’m serious this is different. Watch.
Jackie hits a catatonic Harris over the head with a football and she doesn’t move.
Darlene: Maybe you’re right. I’ll take her down to the Urgent Care just to be safe.
Scene 4: Conner Family Room
Dan is on the edge of his seat as Darlene and Harris walk back in the house.
Dan: Well what did they say?
Darlene: Apparently the doctor says Harris is suffering post-traumatic stress disorder from her sex work in Chicago.
Dan: Is it serious?
Harris (with flat, matter of fact affect): The doctor says I’ll be OK. He gave me a referral to a person who will help me with coping strategies for the irrational thoughts I have while I’m selling my body.
Dan: Oh, thank God.
Scene 5: Conner Family Room
Ben enters.
Ben: Guys, I just heard on the radio. The first ever hurricane to hit Illinois is here NOW and it’s headed straight for Lanford.
Darlene: What are we going to do?
Louise: Dan, your kids need to grow up and learn how to face this hurricane on their own. I’m going to be on the road for the next three weeks, and I wanted to watch Yellowstone with you tonight.
Dan: Kids, Louise is right. It’s time you all faced this hurricane by yourselves.
Darlene: But that’s not fair! We’ve always faced things as a family.
Dan (winking): Well, I’m putting my foot down. You all have to weather the storm by yourselves.
Louise: Oh, alright Dan. They can weather the hurricane with us.
Becky enters.
Becky: Sober life is so amazing. Colors are vibrant, I hear birds chirping in the morning, and I’m present for Beverly Rose!
Darlene: That’s great. Did you hear, a hurricane’s about to hit Lanford? Also I accidentally threw out that notebook you keep with your list of coping mechanisms for being an alcoholic. You didn’t need it right?
Beck: Umm, no, everything is OK. I’ll be fine. I’m just going to head to the basement.
Scene 6: Conner Basement
The Conners all walk down to the basement.
Dan: Becky, where are you? The hurricane’s passed. It’s all OK.
They find Becky lying face down next to a bottle of Vodka. Beverly Rose is teetering on the edge of a bookshelf.
Jackie: Oh, my god, this is bad.
Darlene: Becky, Becky, wake up. What are you doing?
Becky: It was just all too much. The hurricane and then I didn’t have my notebook of coping mechanisms.
Dan huffs in anger.
Dan: Don’t you get it Becky! It was never about that book of coping mechanisms! Can’t you see what Mark has done to you! Can’t you see he’s sending us these hurricanes and shutting down the grocery store from the beyond? Whenever there’s a problem, can’t you see it’s Mark? What do I have to do to get through to you that Mark was Satan’s spawn and is cursing the town of Lanford from the pits of Hell?
Becky breaks down crying.
Jackie: She’s having a breakthrough. Her alcoholism is going into remission again.
Becky: I’m cured everybody.
Everyone hugs Becky.
Dan: To celebrate, let’s go down to the Hardware Store to pick up some groceries for dinner! Brewskis are on me; I can punt on paying off the mortgage until next month.
Jackie: I don’t know, I was thinking about eating MOM!
END CREDITS

This is an expansion of a recent post and also incorporates some ideas from this theory (by u/ndependent-Design17). Throughout the series the reader is repeatedly reminded that "only death can pay for life" — that magic, especially powerful magic, comes at great cost.

"Only death can pay for life, my lord. A great gift requires a great sacrifice.”

Davos, ASOS
This phrase or variations of this phrase are repeated by Melisandre, Mirri, etc. at various points throughout the series. That which follows is a highly speculative theory on the nature of the cost of magic in the series. Specifically, that souls are central to the exercise of magic and can be used as magic currency.

1. establishing the concept of the soul

Oh, to be sure, there is much we do not understand. The years pass in their hundreds and their thousands, and what does any man see of life but a few summers, a few winters? We look at mountains and call them eternal, and so they seem… but in the course of time, mountains rise and fall, rivers change their courses, stars fall from the sky, and great cities sink beneath the sea. Even gods die, we think. Everything changes.

Bran, AGOT
What happens after we die? Is there some part of us that lives on or do we simply cease to exist. These are fundamental questions that are essentially unanswerable in life but not in ASOIAF. The reader is given a point-of-view account of death in the prologue of ADWD. After unsuccessfully attempting to steal the body of Thistle, a wildling spearwife, Varamyr dies and briefly becomes a disembodied consciousness:

The white world turned and fell away. For a moment it was as if he were inside the weirwood, gazing out through carved red eyes as a dying man twitched feebly on the ground and a madwoman danced blind and bloody underneath the moon, weeping red tears and ripping at her clothes. Then both were gone and he was rising, melting, his spirit borne on some cold wind. He was in the snow and in the clouds, he was a sparrow, a squirrel, an oak. A horned owl flew silently between his trees, hunting a hare; Varamyr was inside the owl, inside the hare, inside the trees. Deep below the frozen ground, earthworms burrowed blindly in the dark, and he was them as well. I am the wood, and everything that’s in it, he thought, exulting.

Prologue, ADWD
Afterward his "spirit," or soul, is eventually transferred into a body of wolf and he begins his second life. This event, and the process of skin-changing more generally, appears to involve projection or transfer of a soul from one body into another. The process of projecting or transferring souls to either animal vessels or the weirwoods is central to the magic of the Children of the Forest.

“Someone else was in the raven,” he told Lord Brynden, once he had returned to his own skin. “Some girl. I felt her.”
“A woman, of those who sing the song of earth,” his teacher said. “Long dead, yet a part of her remains, just as a part of you would remain in Summer if your boy’s flesh were to die upon the morrow. A shadow on the soul. She will not harm you.”
"Do all the birds have singers in them?"
“All,” Lord Brynden said.

Bran, ADWD
After death a "shadow on the soul" of the Singers remain in the crows. The soul of Orell is also described as living on in the body of his eagle after his death.
This process appears to take two forms: the soul can be temporarily projected from one body into another (e.g., as happens when Bran skin-changes into Hodor) or can be permanently transferred as is described in the separate examples above.
These transferred souls merge with their recipient, at least to some degree, and may decay over time:

"The wolf is part of you from that day on, and you’re part of him. Both of you will change.”
Other beasts were best left alone, the hunter had declared. Cats were vain and cruel, always ready to turn on you. Elk and deer were prey; wear their skins too long, and even the bravest man became a coward. Bears, boars, badgers, weasels … Haggon did not hold with such. “Some skins you never want to wear, boy. You won’t like what you’d become.” Birds were the worst, to hear him tell it. “Men were not meant to leave the earth. Spend too much time in the clouds and you never want to come back down again.
...
"They say you forget," Haggon had told him, a few weeks before his own death.
"When the man's flesh dies, his spirit lives on inside the beast, but every day his memory fades, and the beast becomes a little less a warg, a little more a wolf, until nothing of the man is left and only the beast remains."

Prologue, ADWD
Bran is provided with similar warnings about the danger of spending too much time in Summer's skin by Jojen.
The Bran that appears to Jon-Ghost in the vision in ACOK is also likely the lingering soul of a non-contemporary Bran, contained in the weirwoods and communicating from the future.

The weirwood had his brother’s face. Had his brother always had three eyes?
Not always, came the silent shout. Not before the crow.
He sniffed at the bark, smelled wolf and tree and boy, but behind that there were other scents, the rich brown smell of warm earth and the hard grey smell of stone and something else, something terrible. Death, he knew. He was smelling death. He cringed back, his hair bristling, and bared his fangs.
"Don’t be afraid, I like it in the dark. No one can see you, but you can see them. But first you have to open your eyes. See? Like this." And the tree reached down and touched him.

Jon, ACOK
There is more information about this in the Time Traveling Bran series. Briefly, the version of Bran in this vision does not appear to be contemporaneous because likes the dark, is able to open Jon's third eye, smells of death, etc. (This is well outside of the scope of this theory however.)

2. shadow magic requires souls

As above the reader is repeatedly reminded throughout the series that "only death can pay for life." What is specifically being sacrificed, though? Is the magic being fueled by the blood of the sacrificed or by something else?
To answer this let us examine one of the most concrete example of magic in the series, the use or exchange of Stannis Baratheon's "life-fire" in order for Melisandre to manifest the shadows used to kill Renly Baratheon and Courtney Penrose.

Shadows only live when given birth by light, and the king's fires burn so low I dare not draw off any more to make another son. It might well kill him."
Melisandre moved closer.
"With another man, though... a man whose flames still burn hot and high... if you truly wish to serve your king's cause, come to my chamber one night. I could give you pleasure such as you have never known, and with your life-fire I could make..."

Davos, ASOS
According to this explanation, the cost of producing these shadow appears to have been part of his "life-fire," or soul. The shadow is specifically described as having the shape Stannis supporting this. Whether this applies to other types of magic — specifically blood magic or fire magic — is less clear but shadow magic very much appears to require the use of souls.
This type of exchange is also directly referenced in the story of the Night's King provided by Old Nan:

A woman was his downfall; a woman glimpsed from atop the Wall, with skin as white as the moon and eyes like blue stars. Fearing nothing, he chased her and caught her and loved her, though her skin was cold as ice, and when he gave his seed to her he gave his soul as well. (Credit to u/DigLost5791 for this reference.)

Bran, ASOS
Stannis is described by Davos afterward as follows:

The look of him was a shock. He seemed ten years older than the man that Davos had left at Storm’s End when he set sail for the Blackwater and the battle that would be their undoing. The king’s close-cropped beard was spiderwebbed with grey hairs, and he had dropped two stone or more of weight. He had never been a fleshy man, but now the bones moved beneath his skin like spears, fighting to cut free. Even his crown seemed too large for his head. His eyes were blue pits lost in deep hollows, and the shape of a skull could be seen beneath his face.

Davos, ASOS
Asha later describes Stannis as appearing life a "man with one foot in the grave."

What little flesh he’d carried on his tall, spare frame at Deepwood Motte had melted away during the march. The shape of his skull could be seen under his skin, and his jaw was clenched so hard Asha feared his teeth might shatter.

Asha, ADWD
These descriptions seem appropriate for a character that has lost part of their "life-fire" or soul.
Throughout the series Stannis is forced to make a series of increasingly difficult decisions. The most significant of these decisions regards the fate of his nephew, Eric Storm. Melisandre repeatedly urges him to "give [her] the boy," presumably to be burned, but is rebuffed by Stannis.

“I know the cost! Last night, gazing into that hearth, I saw things in the flames as well. I saw a king, a crown of fire on his brows, burning… burning, Davos. His own crown consumed his flesh and turned him into ash. Do you think I need Melisandre to tell me what that means? Or you?” The king moved, so his shadow fell upon King’s Landing.
"…what is the life of one bastard boy against a kingdom?”
“Everything,” said Davos, softly.

Davos, ASOS
Is the life of this bastard boy worth the lives of millions that would die if the Others break through the Wall? Making a deal with the devil and literally selling his soul in pursuit of some greater good seems very appropriate for his character, thematically. The description of his flesh turning to ash in this vision is representative also supports this interpretation.

3. blood and fire magic

As opposed to the creation of the shadows described above, we are also provided an example of so-called blood magic in the leech burning ritual.

“Give me the boy, Your Grace. It is the surer way. The better way. Give me the boy and I shall wake the stone dragon.”
...
Melisandre bowed her head stiffly, and said, “As my king commands.” Reaching up her left sleeve with her right hand, she flung a handful of powder into the brazier. The coals roared. As pale flames writhed atop them, the red woman retrieved the silver dish and brought it to the king. Davos watched her lift the lid. Beneath were three large black leeches, fat with blood. The boy’s blood, Davos knew. A king’s blood. Stannis stretched forth a hand, and his fingers closed around one of the leeches.
“Say the name,” Melisandre commanded.

Davos, ASOS
Following this ritual all of the mentioned individuals do die but do so as the part of separate conspiracies (e.g., Robb Stark is betrayed by the Freys and Boltons, Joffrey Baratheon by Littlefinger and the Tyrells, etc.) which were already in place. It is left intentionally ambiguous by the author but it does not appear that the ritual meaningfully contributed to their deaths.
The creation of the shadows is said by Melisandre to have required part of Stannis' "life-fire" or soul. Could it be that the leech burning ritual was unsuccessful because blood alone is not sufficient as a sacrifice?
These forms of magic are frequently described in the community as "shadow magic" and "blood magic." These concepts — "fire and blood" and "flame and shadow" — are highly associated with one another in the text:

“Shadow?" Davos felt his flesh prickling. "A shadow is a thing of darkness."
”You are more ignorant than a child, ser knight. There are no shadows in the dark. Shadows are the servants of light, the children of fire. The brightest flame casts the darkest shadows."

Davos, ACOK
I speculate that these are different expressions of the same concept; that all of these fall under the general umbrella of fire magic and share common principles. "Fire consumes and in the end there's nothing left."

4. dancing shadows

The tent was aglow with the light of braziers within. Through the blood-spattered sandsilk, she glimpsed shadows moving.
Mirri Maz Duur was dancing, and not alone.
...
No, Dany wanted to say, no, not that, you mustn’t, but when she opened her mouth, a long wail of pain escaped, and the sweat broke over her skin. What was wrong with them, couldn’t they see?
Inside the tent the shapes were dancing, circling the brazier and the bloody bath, dark against the sandsilk, and some did not look human. She glimpsed the shadow of a great wolf, and another like a man wreathed in flames.
“The Lamb Woman knows the secrets of the birthing bed,” Irri said. “She said so, I heard her.”
“Yes,” Doreah agreed, “I heard her too.”
No, she shouted, or perhaps she only thought it, for no whisper of sound escaped her lips. She was being carried. Her eyes opened to gaze up at a flat dead sky, black and bleak and starless. Please, no. The sound of Mirri Maz Duur’s voice grew louder, until it filled the world. The shapes! She screamed. The dancers!
Ser Jorah carried her inside the tent.

Daenerys, AGOT
The introduction of shadow magic in the series is provided above with Mirri Max Duur. Following this ritual Drogo is described as a lifeless husk:

"He seems to like the warmth, Princess," Ser Jorah said. "His eyes follow the sun, though he does not see it. He can walk after a fashion. He will go where you lead him, but no farther. He will eat if you put food in his mouth, drink if you dribble water on his lips."

Daenerys, AGOT
It has previously been speculated that Mirri "reverse skin-changed" Drogo (e.g., "strength of the mount go into the rider, strength of the beast go into the man."). The description provided is less consistent with a horse soul inhabiting a human body than it is with the complete or near-complete absence of a soul. It appears more likely in retrospect that Mirri sacrificed part of Drogo's soul to summon the shadows and likely as a means to kill Daenerys' unborn child.

“The stallion who mounts the world will burn no cities now. His khalasar shall trample no nations into dust."

Daenerys, AGOT

5. reanimation

If "only death can pay for life" and souls are used as a form of magical currency how does one explain the reanimation or resurrection process?
There is a paucity of information on the reanimation of the dead in the series. The resurrection of Beric Dondarrion, for example, appears to be different in fundamental ways from that of the wights or Cold Hands. (We are potentially given a point-of-view account of this process if you accept that Victarion died in ADWD.)

“Thoros, how many times have you brought me back now?”
The red priest bowed his head. “It is R’hllor who brings you back, my lord. The Lord of Light. I am only his instrument.”
“How many times?” Lord Beric insisted.
“Six,” Thoros said reluctantly.
“And each time is harder. You have grown reckless, my lord. Is death so very sweet?”
Arya, ASOS

There is no immediately identifiable magical cost for these "kisses of life," at least at first glance. Thoros later tells us that he breathed part of his "flames" or soul into Beric:

“That first time, his lordship had a hole right through him and blood in his mouth, I knew there was no hope. So when his poor torn chest stopped moving, I gave him the good god's own kiss to send him on his way. I filled my mouth with fire and breathed the flames inside him, down his throat to lungs and heart and soul. The last kiss it is called, and many a time I saw the old priests bestow it on the Lord's servants as they died." (Credit to u/watchersontheweb for providing this quote in the initial thread.)

Arya, ASOS
Thoros is also described as appearing very different after performing this ritual several times in a way that is not entirely dissimilar to the changes in Stannis’ appearance referenced above.

“Here’s the wizard, skinny squirrel. You’ll get your answers now.”
He pointed toward the fire, where Tom Sevenstrings stood talking to a tall thin man with oddments of old armor buckled on over his ratty pink robes. That can’t be Thoros of Myr. Arya remembered the red priest as fat, with a smooth face and a shiny bald head. This man had a droopy face and a full head of shaggy grey hair.
...
“Thoros of Myr. You used to shave your head.”
“To betoken a humble heart, but in truth my heart was vain. Besides, I lost my razor in the woods.” The priest slapped his belly. “I am less than I was, but more. A year in the wild will melt the flesh off a man. Would that I could find a tailor to take in my skin. I might look young again, and pretty maids would shower me with kisses.”

Arya, ASOS
Thoros attributes these changes to his renewed devotion to the Red God and spending "a year in the wild" as above although he is not exactly forthcoming with Arya about the resurrection process. It is also likely that he does not entirely understand what specifically is being exchanged here.
Later he describes Beric giving the "kiss of life" to the corpse of Catelyn Stark:

“The Freys slashed her throat from ear to ear. When we found her by the river she was three days dead. Harwin begged me to give her the kiss of life, but it had been too long. I would not do it, so Lord Beric put his lips to hers instead, and the flame of life passed from him to her. And… she rose. May the Lord of Light protect us. She rose.”

Brienne, AFFC
Notably, this process produces a reanimated Catelyn (a.k.a. Lady Stoneheart). The soul of Beric, or at least whatever is left of his soul at this point in the series, is consumed in order to resurrect Catelyn and not transferred.

6. cold shadows (wild speculation)

The terms "white shadows," "pale shadows," and "cold shadows" are repeated used to describe the Others. The Others are also highly associated with ghosts — the spirits or souls of the dead bound to the earth. (The forrest in which they are introduced is literally called the Haunted Forrest.)

The Others made no sound.
Will saw movement from the corner of his eye. Pale shapes gliding through the wood. He turned his head, glimpsed a white shadow in the darkness. Then it was gone. Branches stirred gently in the wind, scratching at one another with wooden fingers. Will opened his mouth to call down a warning, and the words seemed to freeze in his throat. Perhaps he was wrong. Perhaps it had only been a bird, a reflection on the snow, some trick of the moonlight. What had he seen, after all?
“Will, where are you?” Ser Waymar called up. “Can you see anything?” He was turning in a slow circle, suddenly wary, his sword in hand. He must have felt them, as Will felt them. There was nothing to see. “Answer me! Why is it so cold?” It was cold.
Shivering, Will clung more tightly to his perch. His face pressed hard against the trunk of the sentinel. He could feel the sweet, sticky sap on his cheek. A shadow emerged from the dark of the wood. It stood in front of Royce. Tall, it was, and gaunt and hard as old bones, with flesh pale as milk. Its armor seemed to change color as it moved; here it was white as new-fallen snow, there black as shadow, everywhere dappled with the deep grey-green of the trees. The patterns ran like moonlight on water with every step it took. Will heard the breath go out of Ser Waymar Royce in a long hiss. ...
The Other slid forward on silent feet. In its hand was a longsword like none that Will had ever seen. No human metal had gone into the forging of that blade. It was alive with moonlight, translucent, a shard of crystal so thin that it seemed almost to vanish when seen edge-on. There was a faint blue shimmer to the thing, a ghost-light that played around its edges, and somehow Will knew it was sharper than any razor.

Prologue, AGOT
This is again highly speculative but it seems reasonable to consider that these cold shadows are not "ice demons" or "ice zombies" but are in fact ghosts, the spirits or souls of men that are bound to the earth through magic by the Children of the Forest. (The textual evidence of the creation of the Others by the Children has previously been discussed at length in the community in separate posts.) "Fire consumes, but cold preserves."
This would explain several of the unusual characteristics of the Others described by Tormund:

“Tormund,” Jon said, as they watched four old women pull a cartful of children toward the gate, “tell me of our foe. I would know all there is to know of the Others.”
The wildling rubbed his mouth. “Not here,” he mumbled, “not this side o’ your Wall.” The old man glanced uneasily toward the trees in their white mantles. “They’re never far, you know. They won’t come out by day, not when that old sun’s shining, but don’t think that means they went away. Shadows never go away. Might be you don’t see them, but they’re always clinging to your heels.”
...
Tormund turned back.
"You know nothing. You killed a dead man, aye, I heard. Mance killed a hundred. A man can fight the dead, but when their masters come, when the white mists rise up… how do you fight a mist, crow? Shadows with teeth … air so cold it hurts to breathe, like a knife inside your chest … you do not know, you cannot know … can your sword cut cold?"

Jon, ADWD
A reasonable interpretation of this information is that the Others are present during the day, at least in some capacity, and are only able to assume corporeal form at night.
The Others are also described as "going lightly upon the snow" which would also supports the idea that they are ghosts:

“The white walkers go lightly on the snow,” the ranger said. “You’ll find no prints to mark their passage.”

Samwell, ASOS

7. conclusions

This highly speculative theory attempts to reconcile several seemingly disparate concepts in the series related to magic, namely the actual nature of magical sacrifice ("only death can pay for life") and shadows or shadow magic. More specifically, I suggest that souls are the primary magical currency and can be consumed using fire magic to summon shadows, create glamours, etc. I also speculate that similar processes took place during Mirri Maz Duur's shadow-binding ritual in AGOT and during the repeated resurrections of Berric Dondarrion in ASOS. I further suggest that the Others are ghosts, the spirits or souls of the dead bound to the earth.
EDIT: edited several times to address formatting issues

This is an expansion of a recent post and also incorporates some ideas from this theory (by u/ndependent-Design17). Throughout the series the reader is repeatedly reminded that "only death can pay for life" — that magic, especially powerful magic, comes at great cost.

"Only death can pay for life, my lord. A great gift requires a great sacrifice.”

Davos, ASOS
This phrase or variations of this phrase are repeated by Melisandre, Mirri, etc. at various points throughout the series. That which follows is a highly speculative theory on the nature of the cost of magic in the series. Specifically, that souls are central to the exercise of magic and can be used as magic currency.

1. establishing the concept of the soul

Oh, to be sure, there is much we do not understand. The years pass in their hundreds and their thousands, and what does any man see of life but a few summers, a few winters? We look at mountains and call them eternal, and so they seem… but in the course of time, mountains rise and fall, rivers change their courses, stars fall from the sky, and great cities sink beneath the sea. Even gods die, we think. Everything changes.

Bran, AGOT
What happens after we die? Is there some part of us that lives on or do we simply cease to exist. These are fundamental questions that are essentially unanswerable in life but not in ASOIAF. The reader is given a point-of-view account of death in the prologue of ADWD. After unsuccessfully attempting to steal the body of Thistle, a wildling spearwife, Varamyr dies and briefly becomes a disembodied consciousness:

The white world turned and fell away. For a moment it was as if he were inside the weirwood, gazing out through carved red eyes as a dying man twitched feebly on the ground and a madwoman danced blind and bloody underneath the moon, weeping red tears and ripping at her clothes. Then both were gone and he was rising, melting, his spirit borne on some cold wind. He was in the snow and in the clouds, he was a sparrow, a squirrel, an oak. A horned owl flew silently between his trees, hunting a hare; Varamyr was inside the owl, inside the hare, inside the trees. Deep below the frozen ground, earthworms burrowed blindly in the dark, and he was them as well. I am the wood, and everything that’s in it, he thought, exulting.

Prologue, ADWD
Afterward his "spirit," or soul, is eventually transferred into a body of wolf and he begins his second life. This event, and the process of skin-changing more generally, appears to involve projection or transfer of a soul from one body into another. The process of projecting or transferring souls to either animal vessels or the weirwoods is central to the magic of the Children of the Forest.

“Someone else was in the raven,” he told Lord Brynden, once he had returned to his own skin. “Some girl. I felt her.”
“A woman, of those who sing the song of earth,” his teacher said. “Long dead, yet a part of her remains, just as a part of you would remain in Summer if your boy’s flesh were to die upon the morrow. A shadow on the soul. She will not harm you.”
"Do all the birds have singers in them?"
“All,” Lord Brynden said.

Bran, ADWD
After death a "shadow on the soul" of the Singers remain in the crows. The soul of Orell is also described as living on in the body of his eagle after his death.
This process appears to take two forms: the soul can be temporarily projected from one body into another (e.g., as happens when Bran skin-changes into Hodor) or can be permanently transferred as is described in the separate examples above.
These transferred souls merge with their recipient, at least to some degree, and may decay over time:

"The wolf is part of you from that day on, and you’re part of him. Both of you will change.”
Other beasts were best left alone, the hunter had declared. Cats were vain and cruel, always ready to turn on you. Elk and deer were prey; wear their skins too long, and even the bravest man became a coward. Bears, boars, badgers, weasels … Haggon did not hold with such. “Some skins you never want to wear, boy. You won’t like what you’d become.” Birds were the worst, to hear him tell it. “Men were not meant to leave the earth. Spend too much time in the clouds and you never want to come back down again.
...
"They say you forget," Haggon had told him, a few weeks before his own death.
"When the man's flesh dies, his spirit lives on inside the beast, but every day his memory fades, and the beast becomes a little less a warg, a little more a wolf, until nothing of the man is left and only the beast remains."

Prologue, ADWD
Bran is provided with similar warnings about the danger of spending too much time in Summer's skin by Jojen.
The Bran that appears to Jon-Ghost in the vision in ACOK is also likely the lingering soul of a non-contemporary Bran, contained in the weirwoods and communicating from the future.

The weirwood had his brother’s face. Had his brother always had three eyes?
Not always, came the silent shout. Not before the crow.
He sniffed at the bark, smelled wolf and tree and boy, but behind that there were other scents, the rich brown smell of warm earth and the hard grey smell of stone and something else, something terrible. Death, he knew. He was smelling death. He cringed back, his hair bristling, and bared his fangs.
"Don’t be afraid, I like it in the dark. No one can see you, but you can see them. But first you have to open your eyes. See? Like this." And the tree reached down and touched him.

Jon, ACOK
There is more information about this in the Time Traveling Bran series. Briefly, the version of Bran in this vision does not appear to be contemporaneous because likes the dark, is able to open Jon's third eye, smells of death, etc. (This is well outside of the scope of this theory however.)

2. shadow magic requires souls

As above the reader is repeatedly reminded throughout the series that "only death can pay for life." What is specifically being sacrificed, though? Is the magic being fueled by the blood of the sacrificed or by something else?
To answer this let us examine one of the most concrete example of magic in the series, the use or exchange of Stannis Baratheon's "life-fire" in order for Melisandre to manifest the shadows used to kill Renly Baratheon and Courtney Penrose.

Shadows only live when given birth by light, and the king's fires burn so low I dare not draw off any more to make another son. It might well kill him."
Melisandre moved closer.
"With another man, though... a man whose flames still burn hot and high... if you truly wish to serve your king's cause, come to my chamber one night. I could give you pleasure such as you have never known, and with your life-fire I could make..."

Davos, ASOS
According to this explanation, the cost of producing these shadow appears to have been part of his "life-fire," or soul. The shadow is specifically described as having the shape Stannis supporting this. Whether this applies to other types of magic — specifically blood magic or fire magic — is less clear but shadow magic very much appears to require the use of souls.
This type of exchange is also directly referenced in the story of the Night's King provided by Old Nan:

A woman was his downfall; a woman glimpsed from atop the Wall, with skin as white as the moon and eyes like blue stars. Fearing nothing, he chased her and caught her and loved her, though her skin was cold as ice, and when he gave his seed to her he gave his soul as well. (Credit to u/DigLost5791 for this reference.)

Bran, ASOS
Stannis is described by Davos afterward as follows:

The look of him was a shock. He seemed ten years older than the man that Davos had left at Storm’s End when he set sail for the Blackwater and the battle that would be their undoing. The king’s close-cropped beard was spiderwebbed with grey hairs, and he had dropped two stone or more of weight. He had never been a fleshy man, but now the bones moved beneath his skin like spears, fighting to cut free. Even his crown seemed too large for his head. His eyes were blue pits lost in deep hollows, and the shape of a skull could be seen beneath his face.

Davos, ASOS
Asha later describes Stannis as appearing life a "man with one foot in the grave."

What little flesh he’d carried on his tall, spare frame at Deepwood Motte had melted away during the march. The shape of his skull could be seen under his skin, and his jaw was clenched so hard Asha feared his teeth might shatter.

Asha, ADWD
These descriptions seem appropriate for a character that has lost part of their "life-fire" or soul.
Throughout the series Stannis is forced to make a series of increasingly difficult decisions. The most significant of these decisions regards the fate of his nephew, Eric Storm. Melisandre repeatedly urges him to "give [her] the boy," presumably to be burned, but is rebuffed by Stannis.

“I know the cost! Last night, gazing into that hearth, I saw things in the flames as well. I saw a king, a crown of fire on his brows, burning… burning, Davos. His own crown consumed his flesh and turned him into ash. Do you think I need Melisandre to tell me what that means? Or you?” The king moved, so his shadow fell upon King’s Landing.
"…what is the life of one bastard boy against a kingdom?”
“Everything,” said Davos, softly.

Davos, ASOS
Is the life of this bastard boy worth the lives of millions that would die if the Others break through the Wall? Making a deal with the devil and literally selling his soul in pursuit of some greater good seems very appropriate for his character, thematically. The description of his flesh turning to ash in this vision is representative also supports this interpretation.

3. blood and fire magic

As opposed to the creation of the shadows described above, we are also provided an example of so-called blood magic in the leech burning ritual.

“Give me the boy, Your Grace. It is the surer way. The better way. Give me the boy and I shall wake the stone dragon.”
...
Melisandre bowed her head stiffly, and said, “As my king commands.” Reaching up her left sleeve with her right hand, she flung a handful of powder into the brazier. The coals roared. As pale flames writhed atop them, the red woman retrieved the silver dish and brought it to the king. Davos watched her lift the lid. Beneath were three large black leeches, fat with blood. The boy’s blood, Davos knew. A king’s blood. Stannis stretched forth a hand, and his fingers closed around one of the leeches.
“Say the name,” Melisandre commanded.

Davos, ASOS
Following this ritual all of the mentioned individuals do die but do so as the part of separate conspiracies (e.g., Robb Stark is betrayed by the Freys and Boltons, Joffrey Baratheon by Littlefinger and the Tyrells, etc.) which were already in place. It is left intentionally ambiguous by the author but it does not appear that the ritual meaningfully contributed to their deaths.
The creation of the shadows is said by Melisandre to have required part of Stannis' "life-fire" or soul. Could it be that the leech burning ritual was unsuccessful because blood alone is not sufficient as a sacrifice?
These forms of magic are frequently described in the community as "shadow magic" and "blood magic." These concepts — "fire and blood" and "flame and shadow" — are highly associated with one another in the text:

“Shadow?" Davos felt his flesh prickling. "A shadow is a thing of darkness."
”You are more ignorant than a child, ser knight. There are no shadows in the dark. Shadows are the servants of light, the children of fire. The brightest flame casts the darkest shadows."

Davos, ACOK
I speculate that these are different expressions of the same concept; that all of these fall under the general umbrella of fire magic and share common principles. "Fire consumes and in the end there's nothing left."

4. dancing shadows

The tent was aglow with the light of braziers within. Through the blood-spattered sandsilk, she glimpsed shadows moving.
Mirri Maz Duur was dancing, and not alone.
...
No, Dany wanted to say, no, not that, you mustn’t, but when she opened her mouth, a long wail of pain escaped, and the sweat broke over her skin. What was wrong with them, couldn’t they see?
Inside the tent the shapes were dancing, circling the brazier and the bloody bath, dark against the sandsilk, and some did not look human. She glimpsed the shadow of a great wolf, and another like a man wreathed in flames.
“The Lamb Woman knows the secrets of the birthing bed,” Irri said. “She said so, I heard her.”
“Yes,” Doreah agreed, “I heard her too.”
No, she shouted, or perhaps she only thought it, for no whisper of sound escaped her lips. She was being carried. Her eyes opened to gaze up at a flat dead sky, black and bleak and starless. Please, no. The sound of Mirri Maz Duur’s voice grew louder, until it filled the world. The shapes! She screamed. The dancers!
Ser Jorah carried her inside the tent.

Daenerys, AGOT
The introduction of shadow magic in the series is provided above with Mirri Max Duur. Following this ritual Drogo is described as a lifeless husk:

"He seems to like the warmth, Princess," Ser Jorah said. "His eyes follow the sun, though he does not see it. He can walk after a fashion. He will go where you lead him, but no farther. He will eat if you put food in his mouth, drink if you dribble water on his lips."

Daenerys, AGOT
It has previously been speculated that Mirri "reverse skin-changed" Drogo (e.g., "strength of the mount go into the rider, strength of the beast go into the man."). The description provided is less consistent with a horse soul inhabiting a human body than it is with the complete or near-complete absence of a soul. It appears more likely in retrospect that Mirri sacrificed part of Drogo's soul to summon the shadows and likely as a means to kill Daenerys' unborn child.

“The stallion who mounts the world will burn no cities now. His khalasar shall trample no nations into dust."

Daenerys, AGOT

5. reanimation

If "only death can pay for life" and souls are used as a form of magical currency how does one explain the reanimation or resurrection process?
There is a paucity of information on the reanimation of the dead in the series. The resurrection of Beric Dondarrion, for example, appears to be different in fundamental ways from that of the wights or Cold Hands. (We are potentially given a point-of-view account of this process if you accept that Victarion died in ADWD.)

“Thoros, how many times have you brought me back now?”
The red priest bowed his head. “It is R’hllor who brings you back, my lord. The Lord of Light. I am only his instrument.”
“How many times?” Lord Beric insisted.
“Six,” Thoros said reluctantly.
“And each time is harder. You have grown reckless, my lord. Is death so very sweet?”
Arya, ASOS

There is no immediately identifiable magical cost for these "kisses of life," at least at first glance. Thoros later tells us that he breathed part of his "flames" or soul into Beric:

“That first time, his lordship had a hole right through him and blood in his mouth, I knew there was no hope. So when his poor torn chest stopped moving, I gave him the good god's own kiss to send him on his way. I filled my mouth with fire and breathed the flames inside him, down his throat to lungs and heart and soul. The last kiss it is called, and many a time I saw the old priests bestow it on the Lord's servants as they died." (Credit to u/watchersontheweb for providing this quote in the initial thread.)

Arya, ASOS
Thoros is also described as appearing very different after performing this ritual several times in a way that is not entirely dissimilar to the changes in Stannis’ appearance referenced above.

“Here’s the wizard, skinny squirrel. You’ll get your answers now.”
He pointed toward the fire, where Tom Sevenstrings stood talking to a tall thin man with oddments of old armor buckled on over his ratty pink robes. That can’t be Thoros of Myr. Arya remembered the red priest as fat, with a smooth face and a shiny bald head. This man had a droopy face and a full head of shaggy grey hair.
...
“Thoros of Myr. You used to shave your head.”
“To betoken a humble heart, but in truth my heart was vain. Besides, I lost my razor in the woods.” The priest slapped his belly. “I am less than I was, but more. A year in the wild will melt the flesh off a man. Would that I could find a tailor to take in my skin. I might look young again, and pretty maids would shower me with kisses.”

Arya, ASOS
Thoros attributes these changes to his renewed devotion to the Red God and spending "a year in the wild" as above although he is not exactly forthcoming with Arya about the resurrection process. It is also likely that he does not entirely understand what specifically is being exchanged here.
Later he describes Beric giving the "kiss of life" to the corpse of Catelyn Stark:

“The Freys slashed her throat from ear to ear. When we found her by the river she was three days dead. Harwin begged me to give her the kiss of life, but it had been too long. I would not do it, so Lord Beric put his lips to hers instead, and the flame of life passed from him to her. And… she rose. May the Lord of Light protect us. She rose.”

Brienne, AFFC
Notably, this process produces a reanimated Catelyn (a.k.a. Lady Stoneheart). The soul of Beric, or at least whatever is left of his soul at this point in the series, is consumed in order to resurrect Catelyn and not transferred.

6. cold shadows (wild speculation)

The terms "white shadows," "pale shadows," and "cold shadows" are repeated used to describe the Others. The Others are also highly associated with ghosts — the spirits or souls of the dead bound to the earth. (The forrest in which they are introduced is literally called the Haunted Forrest.)

The Others made no sound.
Will saw movement from the corner of his eye. Pale shapes gliding through the wood. He turned his head, glimpsed a white shadow in the darkness. Then it was gone. Branches stirred gently in the wind, scratching at one another with wooden fingers. Will opened his mouth to call down a warning, and the words seemed to freeze in his throat. Perhaps he was wrong. Perhaps it had only been a bird, a reflection on the snow, some trick of the moonlight. What had he seen, after all?
“Will, where are you?” Ser Waymar called up. “Can you see anything?” He was turning in a slow circle, suddenly wary, his sword in hand. He must have felt them, as Will felt them. There was nothing to see. “Answer me! Why is it so cold?” It was cold.
Shivering, Will clung more tightly to his perch. His face pressed hard against the trunk of the sentinel. He could feel the sweet, sticky sap on his cheek. A shadow emerged from the dark of the wood. It stood in front of Royce. Tall, it was, and gaunt and hard as old bones, with flesh pale as milk. Its armor seemed to change color as it moved; here it was white as new-fallen snow, there black as shadow, everywhere dappled with the deep grey-green of the trees. The patterns ran like moonlight on water with every step it took. Will heard the breath go out of Ser Waymar Royce in a long hiss. ...
The Other slid forward on silent feet. In its hand was a longsword like none that Will had ever seen. No human metal had gone into the forging of that blade. It was alive with moonlight, translucent, a shard of crystal so thin that it seemed almost to vanish when seen edge-on. There was a faint blue shimmer to the thing, a ghost-light that played around its edges, and somehow Will knew it was sharper than any razor.

Prologue, AGOT
This is again highly speculative but it seems reasonable to consider that these cold shadows are not "ice demons" or "ice zombies" but are in fact ghosts, the spirits or souls of men that are bound to the earth through magic by the Children of the Forest. (The textual evidence of the creation of the Others by the Children is linked in a separate post here.) "Fire consumes, but cold preserves."
This would explain several of the unusual characteristics of the Others described by Tormund:

“Tormund,” Jon said, as they watched four old women pull a cartful of children toward the gate, “tell me of our foe. I would know all there is to know of the Others.”
The wildling rubbed his mouth. “Not here,” he mumbled, “not this side o’ your Wall.” The old man glanced uneasily toward the trees in their white mantles. “They’re never far, you know. They won’t come out by day, not when that old sun’s shining, but don’t think that means they went away. Shadows never go away. Might be you don’t see them, but they’re always clinging to your heels.”
...
Tormund turned back.
"You know nothing. You killed a dead man, aye, I heard. Mance killed a hundred. A man can fight the dead, but when their masters come, when the white mists rise up… how do you fight a mist, crow? Shadows with teeth … air so cold it hurts to breathe, like a knife inside your chest … you do not know, you cannot know … can your sword cut cold?"

Jon, ADWD
A reasonable interpretation of this information is that the Others are present during the day, at least in some capacity, and are only able to assume corporeal form at night.
The Others are also described as "going lightly upon the snow" which would also supports the idea that they are ghosts:

“The white walkers go lightly on the snow,” the ranger said. “You’ll find no prints to mark their passage.”

Samwell, ASOS

7. conclusions

This highly speculative theory attempts to reconcile several seemingly disparate concepts in the series related to magic, namely the actual nature of magical sacrifice ("only death can pay for life") and shadows or shadow magic. More specifically, I suggest that souls are the primary magical currency and can be consumed using fire magic to summon shadows, create glamours, etc. I also speculate that similar processes took place during Mirri Maz Duur's shadow-binding ritual in AGOT and during the repeated resurrections of Berric Dondarrion in ASOS. I further suggest that the Others are ghosts, the spirits or souls of the dead bound to the earth.
EDIT: edited several times to address formatting issues

🔎 Game Details 🪑 3/6 spots open ⏰ Weekly, 3-4 hours ✅ Vetted Players ➡️SCHEDULE CHAT 💵 $30/week (10% monthly discount) 🎧 Discord Community 🌎Website ⚖️Code of Conduct

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Mythica is a land of myth and living legends. A land where mountains are carved into castles by giant craftsmen, where ancient secrets dwell in the hearts of the deadly primeval forests, where the vice and avarice of mortals transforms them into demons who prey on men and mer. To dwell in mythica is either to live a life ever in the shadow of danger, or to die a storied hero. For time immemorial the Gods have pulled the strings of fate to make mortals their pawns in their divine schemes. It is said that those who meddle in the affairs of Gods are doomed, and live evermore as omens of impending calamity. For millenia the rule of Gods was absolute and indisputable, but times have changed.

Seventy years past, the godspawn demigod Agnir took up arms to stand against the will of the gods. Even as he invited divine wrath, he rallied the forces of mortalkind to stand beside him in his blasphemous campaign. Conquering every challenge that stood in his way, using his wit, his strength, and his indomitable human spirit he gathered allies to him who fought a bloody decades-long war against a celestial foe that left battlefields stained red with blood. In the final battle the last of the mortal forces stood strong against countless waves of angelic soldiers. Even as men died around him Agnir and his host sang songs of victory, spit curses at the Gods, and went to their graves smiling and defiant. This display of glorious resistance and petulant spite was enough to incense Alterax, the God of War, to take to the field himself. The war god's battlecry was enough to feel hundreds, and one mighty swing of his sword cleaved half of the defiant army from not only their lives, but existence itself. Even so, the songs and jeers rose to meet him, and as he reared to put an end to this meagre resistance, he failed to see his end approaching. As the bellows of Alterax burst his eardrums, and as the war god's mighty swing took his left eye, Agnir the bold stood his ground, and he took aim. Lifting a humble iron spear, he hurled it with all his might, all his fury, and all his courage. That day, thanks to the indomitable will of mortals, the world learned that not only could Gods bleed, but they could die. The body of Alterax remains there to this day, bones picked clean, clad in armor, with his sword embedded in the ground, a monument to the folly of the gods. Nestled in these remains, carved into the bones, there now exists a city of sin where blasphemers and apostates dwell. Fifty years have passed since that day when the war ended. When the gods ascended and have not since set foot on these lands. But even as men, and dwarves, and elves, and all mortal kind celebrated their freedom, the gods gazed at them from above, and the strings of fate are still wrapped around the fingers of the gods, as they always have been.

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🔎 Game Details 🪑 3/6 spots open ⏰ Weekly, 3-4 hours ✅ Vetted Players ➡️SCHEDULE CHAT 💵 $30/week (10% monthly discunt) 🎧 Discord Community 🌎Website ⚖️Code of Conduct

📄 ADVENTURE DETAILS

Mythica is a land of myth and living legends. A land where mountains are carved into castles by giant craftsmen, where ancient secrets dwell in the hearts of the deadly primeval forests, where the vice and avarice of mortals transforms them into demons who prey on men and mer. To dwell in mythica is either to live a life ever in the shadow of danger, or to die a storied hero. For time immemorial the Gods have pulled the strings of fate to make mortals their pawns in their divine schemes. It is said that those who meddle in the affairs of Gods are doomed, and live evermore as omens of impending calamity. For millenia the rule of Gods was absolute and indisputable, but times have changed.

Seventy years past, the godspawn demigod Agnir took up arms to stand against the will of the gods. Even as he invited divine wrath, he rallied the forces of mortalkind to stand beside him in his blasphemous campaign. Conquering every challenge that stood in his way, using his wit, his strength, and his indomitable human spirit he gathered allies to him who fought a bloody decades-long war against a celestial foe that left battlefields stained red with blood. In the final battle the last of the mortal forces stood strong against countless waves of angelic soldiers. Even as men died around him Agnir and his host sang songs of victory, spit curses at the Gods, and went to their graves smiling and defiant. This display of glorious resistance and petulant spite was enough to incense Alterax, the God of War, to take to the field himself. The war god's battlecry was enough to feel hundreds, and one mighty swing of his sword cleaved half of the defiant army from not only their lives, but existence itself. Even so, the songs and jeers rose to meet him, and as he reared to put an end to this meagre resistance, he failed to see his end approaching. As the bellows of Alterax burst his eardrums, and as the war god's mighty swing took his left eye, Agnir the bold stood his ground, and he took aim. Lifting a humble iron spear, he hurled it with all his might, all his fury, and all his courage. That day, thanks to the indomitable will of mortals, the world learned that not only could Gods bleed, but they could die. The body of Alterax remains there to this day, bones picked clean, clad in armor, with his sword embedded in the ground, a monument to the folly of the gods. Nestled in these remains, carved into the bones, there now exists a city of sin where blasphemers and apostates dwell. Fifty years have passed since that day when the war ended. When the gods ascended and have not since set foot on these lands. But even as men, and dwarves, and elves, and all mortal kind celebrated their freedom, the gods gazed at them from above, and the strings of fate are still wrapped around the fingers of the gods, as they always have been.

APPLY NOW

🔎 Game Details 🪑 3/6 spots open ⏰ Weekly, 3-4 hours ✅ Vetted Players ➡️SCHEDULE CHAT 💵 $30/week (10% monthly discunt) 🎧 Discord Community 🌎Website ⚖️Code of Conduct

📄 ADVENTURE DETAILS

Mythica is a land of myth and living legends. A land where mountains are carved into castles by giant craftsmen, where ancient secrets dwell in the hearts of the deadly primeval forests, where the vice and avarice of mortals transforms them into demons who prey on men and mer. To dwell in mythica is either to live a life ever in the shadow of danger, or to die a storied hero. For time immemorial the Gods have pulled the strings of fate to make mortals their pawns in their divine schemes. It is said that those who meddle in the affairs of Gods are doomed, and live evermore as omens of impending calamity. For millenia the rule of Gods was absolute and indisputable, but times have changed.

Seventy years past, the godspawn demigod Agnir took up arms to stand against the will of the gods. Even as he invited divine wrath, he rallied the forces of mortalkind to stand beside him in his blasphemous campaign. Conquering every challenge that stood in his way, using his wit, his strength, and his indomitable human spirit he gathered allies to him who fought a bloody decades-long war against a celestial foe that left battlefields stained red with blood. In the final battle the last of the mortal forces stood strong against countless waves of angelic soldiers. Even as men died around him Agnir and his host sang songs of victory, spit curses at the Gods, and went to their graves smiling and defiant. This display of glorious resistance and petulant spite was enough to incense Alterax, the God of War, to take to the field himself. The war god's battlecry was enough to feel hundreds, and one mighty swing of his sword cleaved half of the defiant army from not only their lives, but existence itself. Even so, the songs and jeers rose to meet him, and as he reared to put an end to this meagre resistance, he failed to see his end approaching. As the bellows of Alterax burst his eardrums, and as the war god's mighty swing took his left eye, Agnir the bold stood his ground, and he took aim. Lifting a humble iron spear, he hurled it with all his might, all his fury, and all his courage. That day, thanks to the indomitable will of mortals, the world learned that not only could Gods bleed, but they could die. The body of Alterax remains there to this day, bones picked clean, clad in armor, with his sword embedded in the ground, a monument to the folly of the gods. Nestled in these remains, carved into the bones, there now exists a city of sin where blasphemers and apostates dwell. Fifty years have passed since that day when the war ended. When the gods ascended and have not since set foot on these lands. But even as men, and dwarves, and elves, and all mortal kind celebrated their freedom, the gods gazed at them from above, and the strings of fate are still wrapped around the fingers of the gods, as they always have been.

APPLY NOW

🔎 Game Details 🪑 3/6 spots open ⏰ Weekly, 3-4 hours ✅ Vetted Players ➡️SCHEDULE CHAT 💵 $30/week (10% monthly discunt) 🎧 Discord Community 🌎Website ⚖️Code of Conduct

📄 ADVENTURE DETAILS

Mythica is a land of myth and living legends. A land where mountains are carved into castles by giant craftsmen, where ancient secrets dwell in the hearts of the deadly primeval forests, where the vice and avarice of mortals transforms them into demons who prey on men and mer. To dwell in mythica is either to live a life ever in the shadow of danger, or to die a storied hero. For time immemorial the Gods have pulled the strings of fate to make mortals their pawns in their divine schemes. It is said that those who meddle in the affairs of Gods are doomed, and live evermore as omens of impending calamity. For millenia the rule of Gods was absolute and indisputable, but times have changed.

Seventy years past, the godspawn demigod Agnir took up arms to stand against the will of the gods. Even as he invited divine wrath, he rallied the forces of mortalkind to stand beside him in his blasphemous campaign. Conquering every challenge that stood in his way, using his wit, his strength, and his indomitable human spirit he gathered allies to him who fought a bloody decades-long war against a celestial foe that left battlefields stained red with blood. In the final battle the last of the mortal forces stood strong against countless waves of angelic soldiers. Even as men died around him Agnir and his host sang songs of victory, spit curses at the Gods, and went to their graves smiling and defiant. This display of glorious resistance and petulant spite was enough to incense Alterax, the God of War, to take to the field himself. The war god's battlecry was enough to feel hundreds, and one mighty swing of his sword cleaved half of the defiant army from not only their lives, but existence itself. Even so, the songs and jeers rose to meet him, and as he reared to put an end to this meagre resistance, he failed to see his end approaching. As the bellows of Alterax burst his eardrums, and as the war god's mighty swing took his left eye, Agnir the bold stood his ground, and he took aim. Lifting a humble iron spear, he hurled it with all his might, all his fury, and all his courage. That day, thanks to the indomitable will of mortals, the world learned that not only could Gods bleed, but they could die. The body of Alterax remains there to this day, bones picked clean, clad in armor, with his sword embedded in the ground, a monument to the folly of the gods. Nestled in these remains, carved into the bones, there now exists a city of sin where blasphemers and apostates dwell. Fifty years have passed since that day when the war ended. When the gods ascended and have not since set foot on these lands. But even as men, and dwarves, and elves, and all mortal kind celebrated their freedom, the gods gazed at them from above, and the strings of fate are still wrapped around the fingers of the gods, as they always have been.

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Awhile back I posted about using clauses (and readings) in the Rosary to help keep the mystery in mind while praying. Recently I've wondered if it were possible to have different mysteries for every day of the week than to repeat them all (except the Luminous) twice a week, which would also allow more Scripture readings. I couldn't really find much, so I created a three more mysteries based on the miracles of Jesus and changed the order a bit. This is a work in progress, and any notes and comments are very welcome. 😁
The Joyful Mysteries (Monday)

Introductory Beads … to increase our faith.
… to strengthen our hope.
… to perfect our charity.
The Annunciation Reading: Luke 1:26-38
Clause: … whom thou, Holy Virgin, didst conceive of the Holy Ghost.
The Visitation Reading: Luke 1:39-55
Clause: … whom thou, Holy Virgin, didst carry whilst visiting Elizabeth.
The Nativity Reading: Luke 2:4-20
Clause: … whom thou, Holy Virgin, didst bear at Bethlehem.
The Presentation Reading: Luke 2:21-32
Clause: … whom thou, Holy Virgin, didst present in the Temple.
The Finding Reading: Luke 2:41-52
Clause: … whom thou, Holy Virgin, didst find in the Temple.

The Healthful Mysteries (Tuesday)

Introductory Beads … to increase our faith.
… to strengthen our hope.
… to perfect our charity.
The Ministry of Healing
Reading: Luke 4:38-44
Clause: … who ministered unto the sick.
The Healed Servant
Reading: Luke 7:1-10
Clause: … who healed a centurion’s servant.
The Healed Daughter
Reading: Luke 8:40-56
Clause: … who healed a rabbi’s daughter.
The Healed Woman
Reading: Luke 13:10-17
Clause: … who healed a woman on the sabbath.
The Healed Lepers
Reading: Luke 17:11-19
Clause: … who healed outcast lepers.

The Luminous Mysteries (Wednesday)

Introductory Beads … to guide our thoughts.
… to command our words.
… to govern our actions.
The Baptism Reading: John 1:29-34
Clause: … who was baptized in the River Jordan for our sins.
The Wedding Reading: John 2:1-11
Clause: … who manifested His divine power in Cana.
The Proclamation Reading: Luke 9:1-6
Clause: … who proclaimed the Kingdom of God with His disciples.
The Transfiguration Reading: Luke 9:28-36
Clause: … who was transfigured in radiant glory on Mount Tabor.
The Eucharist Reading: Luke 22:13-20
Clause: … who gave us His body and blood for sustenance.

The Cleansing Mysteries (Thursday)

Introductory Beads … to increase our faith.
… to strengthen our hope.
… to perfect our charity.
The Cleansed Galilean Reading: Luke 4:33-37
Clause: … who cleansed a demoniac Galilean.
The Cleansed Gerasene Reading: Luke 7:1-10
Clause: … who cleansed a demoniac Gerasene.
The Cleansed Boy Reading: Luke 9:37-42
Clause: … who cleansed a demoniac boy.
The Cleansed Mute Reading: Luke 11:14-28
Clause: … who cleansed a demoniac mute.
The Cleansed Canaanite Reading: Matthew 15:21-28
Clause: … who cleansed a demoniac Canaanite.

The Sorrowful Mysteries (Friday)

Introductory Beads … to enlighten our minds.
… to correct our memories.
… to perfect our wills.
The Agony Reading: Luke 22:39-46
Clause: … who sweat blood in the garden.
The Scourging Reading: Luke 22:63-71
Clause: … who was scourged for our sins.
The Crowning Reading: John 19:1-5
Clause: … who was crowned with thorns for our sins.
The Cross Reading: John 19:16-17
Clause: … who bore the heavy Cross for our sins.
The Crucifixion Reading: John 19:18-30
Clause: … who died on the Cross for our sins.

The Natural Mysteries (Saturday)

Introductory Beads … to increase our faith.
… to strengthen our hope.
… to perfect our charity.
The Tribute Reading: Matthew 17:24-27
Clause: … who paid tribute by the sea.
The Withered Fig Tree Reading: Matthew 21:18-27
Clause: … who withered the fig tree.
The Abundant Lake Reading: Luke 5:1-11
Clause: … who gave abundance at Lake Gennesaret.
The Pacification Reading: Luke 8:22-25
Clause: … who calmed the waters.
The Arrival Reading: John 6:16-24
Clause: … who walked on the sea.

The Glorious Mysteries (Sunday)

Introductory Beads … to guide our thoughts.
… to command our words.
… to govern our actions.
The Resurrection Reading: Luke 24:1-7
Clause: … who rose again from the dead.
The Ascension Reading: Luke 24:50-53
Clause: … who ascended into Heaven.
The Transmission Reading: Acts 2:1-4
Clause: … who sent us the Holy Ghost.
The Assumption Reading: Song of Solomon 2:10-14
Clause: … who assumed thee, Holy Virgin, into Heaven.
The Coronation Reading: Revelation 12:1-2
Clause: … who crowned thee, Holy Virgin, in Heaven.

Sorry about the delay. I ultimately decided that the story needed a substantial re-write and ended up back at square one. Unfortunately, this means chapters will now only go up three times a week (Monday, Wednesday, Friday). Hopefully you’ll enjoy this new version, and find it worth the wait.
Also, my Patreon is now up if you feel like supporting my writing. I’ll add advance chapters as soon as they’re written.
Thanks for reading!
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Prequel (Chapters 1 to 16)
1. Rise of a Valkyrie
First ¦ Previous ¦ Royal Road ¦ Patreon
2. Task Force Nemesis
He, General or mere Captain, who employs everyone in the storming of a position, can be sure of seeing it retaken by an organized counterattack of four men and a corporal.
- Battle Studies, Ardant du Picq
“You’re one of those Academy girls, aren’t you?”
Christie Stirling’s heart seized as a shock of adrenaline lanced through her body, and she needed a great deal of effort not to flinch or tremor. Other party guests looked around in surprise, but her smile remained unblemished. She turned with the lazy and graceless air she had portrayed throughout the night to look into the predatory eyes of Allana Rayker; the inhuman terrorist who had killed her best friend.
The question was either a trap or an accusation. The Academy—a fake university—was the cover of the shadowy organization that had recruited Christie. They had made her a Valkyrie; an enhanced super soldier tasked with protecting humanity from the devastating armaments of an extinct alien race, and those, like Rayker, who wanted to exploit those weapons for evil purposes.
Now that Valkyrie had found the evil woman’s hiding place, the hunt was reaching its final moments. But, shaken by surprise, Christie’s instincts screamed that her cover was blown, that she would be tortured and executed, and that the rest of the task force stealthily approaching the chateau would be discovered and attacked.
She feigned a puzzled smile as she fought for control of her emotions. All around the room, expensively dressed party goers mingled and talked with abandon. Light flashed off crystal glasses, chandeliers, and jewelry worth more than any citizen’s life. A man tipsy with wine laughed raucously at the joke of a Central Committee member, no doubt eager to impress one of the most powerful people in the galaxy.
The exclusive party, hosted by Joakinn Meissner, newly selected president of the largest arms manufacturer in the galaxy, had been anticipated for months. The guests were lost in the lavish display of wealth, with no idea, Christie was certain, that they might be about to witness a gruesome murder.
An angry inner voice drowned out the rising panic. How dare she allow herself to fail? How dare she let down her fellow Valkyrie, who had worked tirelessly for years to hunt down Rayker, and finally bring her to justice? And how dare she betray the memory of her friend Rose, who had already given her life in that struggle? There was simply no room for weakness, and Christie would be damned if she was going to let the operation end so abysmally.
She held onto her façade by her fingertips, as a gut-wrenching void swung beneath her.
“Where?” she asked, slurring her words. “Oh, you mean the mystery school? No, I went to Cambridge actually.”
She kept her eyes unfocused and wandering, but nevertheless taking in details. The galaxy’s most dangerous terrorist was dressed in black, and an earpiece was just visible behind the locks of black hair that fell from the neat bun. She didn’t hold a glass, and stood awkwardly, as one who doesn’t care to impress or reassure. On her wrists, Christie noticed the subtle bulges in the skin that marked her most deadly weapons—spikes of bone that she could launch with more power and speed than bullets.
Rayker stared into her eyes, dragging out the silence. Around them, the fabulously adorned guests began to look over, bemused by the strange interaction. Christie continued the drunken pause, allowing her eyes to droop with fatigue. She wished it were real, but tonight she could not be affected by alcohol. Like all Valkyrie, her bloodstream was flooded with nano machines that gave her enhanced speed, strength, and healing potential. Twenty-four hours earlier, a bioengineer had programmed the nanites to target and break down all alcohol enzymes that passed through her system.
Unfortunately, even advanced technology wouldn’t help her survive for long against Rayker.
Eventually Christie began to turn away, suppressing the shiver she felt at showing her back to a predator.
“Loving the dress,” she said with a hint of disdain. “Not everyone can pull off funeral black at a drinky fete.”
“Perhaps I was mistaken,” Rayker said, her voice neutral. “I’m afraid I haven’t had the pleasure.”
Christie stopped and looked back at her with a smirk. “Gosh, you’re scary!” she crowed. “You might almost be a villain in one of those spy movies!”
A wave of embarrassed silence, interrupted by a few titters, passed through the crowd, while others hid disbelieving grins behind their drinks.
Rayker ignored them and extended her hand. “Allana Rayker. I’m an associate of Herr Meissner.”
Christie shook limply. “I’m Petti.”
Rayker’s eyebrows flickered as she suppressed an obviously contemptuous expression. “You’re the girl who found success on the feeds recently? Modeling lingerie?” Her lips twisted into a fake smile. “I wouldn’t normally be interested, but so many men have told me that you have a surprising intellect.”
Of course, the meeting had been inevitable. Rayker had been prowling the halls of Meissner’s Chateau, interrogating every young woman in a similar fashion. Christie’s cover had been calculated to make her stand out, but in a way that could be easily dismissed. ‘Petti’ was a highly connected social influencer, who craved adoration and attention. It had been a fun role, up until now.
Christie grinned at the lascivious looks around her. “You guys—you’re so sweet!”
Her crowd of male admirers laughed, then directed blank stares at Rayker. Christie offered a prayer of thanks for the collective lust that was patiently trying to convince the intruder that she was an unwelcome bore who had no right to deprive them of the attention offered by an inebriated and provocatively dressed young woman, and should leave as soon as possible.
“Enchanté,” Rayker said, and stalked off.
“Is there a draft in here? I think I felt a chill,” Christie said to more laughter.
She turned her sunbeam smile back to the crowd while she reached a gently shaking hand up to brush the silver of her brooch. The tiny and delicate shapes of the flower’s petals helped calm her mind as she focused on the next step.
​
A mile away, in the dense woods of the Chateau’s outer grounds, Lance-Corporal Kayla Barnes moved slowly through the dark undergrowth. She placed each foot purposefully, testing the ground before shifting her weight to prevent the cracking of a twig or the rustle of leaves.
As she crested a low rise, she froze. The multi-wavelength vizor of her helmet showed the surrounding trees and foliage in dark grey and black patterns. Amidst the visual chaos she had been struggling to navigate, a pair of tiny white blobs had suddenly appeared.
Heat sources. Guards.
Kayla reached for the comm switch on her chest and triple clicked the talk button, sending a burst of static noise to the rest of the squad. Close behind, the three other members of her fire team, who had stopped when she had, raised their rifles and peered through scopes at the distant threat. Further along the gentle slope, the second half of their eight-woman squad also stopped, as they too scanned to locate the new target.
They were Rangers, part of Valkyrie’s elite infantry force. Under the cover of darkness, they had climbed through the surrounding mountains and crept past local security forces to infiltrate the chateau grounds. When the time came, their job would be to neutralize the VennZech corporation’s mercenary guards, leaving the Chateau infiltrators free to break in and take down Rayker.
Kayla would either succeed in her mission or die trying. She had graduated Valkyrie’s crushing selection course together with her three best friends, whom she had sworn never to let down. She had already unforgivably failed Rose Djallen; killed in action on a previous operation. Thandi Khawula was in the squad’s second fire team, covering her movements. Christie was in the chateau, facing their target alone.
As Kayla watched the distant blobs draw closer, they resolved into familiar human figures. Three of them. They were strolling, weapons slung, as they made the head and arm movements of everyday conversation.
Of course they were distracted; they had the Ambrosia detail. The planet was the luxury destination for the most powerful members of human society. On its pristine shores, rivalries and factions were forgotten. Powerful cartel members, after being offered a month’s stay, would be offered mutual, but discrete, agreements in place of a prison sentence. Business might be politely discussed, but anyone looking to extort or threaten fellow guests of would find their home planet visited by a Helvetic League security fleet. The normally fractious and squeamish planetary governors would look the other way. Nobody in their right mind would want to disturb this world’s tranquility.
But Valkyrie worked from the shadows and went wherever they pleased. Besides, if everything went to plan, nobody would even know what had happened.
The Chateau was built high on the slopes of Ambrosia’s most popular mountain range, not far from a huge ski resort. Perched on the edge of a sheer cliff, the building was flanked by a spectacular waterfall. In daylight, there was a jaw dropping view of the surrounding peaks and valleys. The grounds were covered in dense forests that stretched across the surrounding slopes. Normally, they were peaceful, disturbed only by the occasional guest out for an adventurous hike. Now they were crawling with Rangers, closing in to seal the chateau off from the outside world.
Kayla slowly turned her head and found the muted gray patch of her squad leader a short distance away. Their combat suits kept their body heat from seeping out into the world—as much a necessity to protect them in the vacuum of space as to keep them hidden. The diffuse blob of Corporal Ksenia ‘Kes’ Rudaski slowly raised an arm towards Kayla, and made a gentle motion in the direction of the approaching men.
Kayla raised her own hand in a thumbs up, then began to move forward. She did not need to see or hear her three other Rangers to know they would be close behind.
The two elements were separating. Kes’ Alpha team spread out on the rise to keep their rifles aimed at the new threats, while Kayla’s Bravo team crept towards them.
Their commanders had decided early in the operation that they should attempt to minimize human casualties wherever possible. To that end, Kayla and her squad mate Ray carried stun rifles. They could stop the heart of a human with a projectile that could latch into the skin and deliver a violent electric shock. Then, the Rangers would have up to two minutes to reach the unconscious victims and inject them with a solution to restart their cardiac rhythm before a powerful tranquilizer took effect. The men would wake up with amnesia hours later, and Valkyrie would confidently maintain its secrecy while assuaging the ethical concerns that interfering in human society often brought them.
Unfortunately, the weapons were only effective to a hundred yards. Kayla and Ray would have to get as close as they could before they could take out all three of the guards. They had night vision, and any sound would carry far on such a quiet night. Even distracted, they wouldn’t miss a disturbance amongst the trees.
Kayla had been a talented stalker since she was a child, a noiseless shadow in any environment. Nevertheless, there was always the chance that something could go wrong, and the Rangers couldn’t take the risk of a compromise when so much was on the line.
Certainly not, Kayla grimly reminded herself, when Christie’s life was in so much peril. One wrong move and Rayker would kill her immediately before making good her own escape and destroying months of work.
So Kes and her three Rangers kept their high-powered, suppressed rifles trained on the distant men. At the slightest hint of a problem, they wouldn’t hesitate to kill, and the ‘moral question’ would be chalked up to the fortune of war. False intelligence would be distributed implicating cartel involvement in the raid. Valkyrie ethics had always been a nebulous concept at best.
The closer Kayla got through the undergrowth to her target the closer, she knew, her watcher’s lethal assistance would have to pass by her own body. But she felt no fear. Thandi had become a talented marksman; neither she nor the others would make a mistake.
Now only fifty yards away, the men stopped by a large boulder, leaning against the rock while they drank from their canteens. Kayla dropped to her belly and merged into the ground as she slithered forward.
First ¦ Previous ¦ Royal Road ¦ Patreon
Prequel (Chapters 1 to 16)
1. Rise of a Valkyrie

Reddit Account: u/Laughingstag
Discord Tag: imaginarysage
Name and House: Daemon Tarreos
Age: 31
Cultural Group: Valyrian
Appearance: White hair and piercing blue eyes mark his heritage. He cuts a solid figure of a professional soldier, considered very fit. Since becoming an officer, he's let his hair grow to his shoulders, though he's known to tie it up. The most striking part of him is his wardrobe - a white tiger pelt cloak that he wears draped over his shoulders, a gift from his adopted father.
Trait: Charismatic
Skill(s): Tactician, Prudent, 2H, Cunning(e)
Talent(s): Language: Westerosi Common, Poetry, Fishing
Negative Trait(s): N/A
Starting Title(s): Praetor of the Lost Legion, the White Tiger, Blade Steward of Ērinnon
Starting Location: Opening event

Biography

Daemon Tarreos, born Daemon of Tyria, was the son of a blacksmith and the great grandson of a legionnaire from the old city of Tyria. Born 6 BC, Daemon was not even out of his smallclothes when the Tyroshi, the Braavosi, and the Durrandons and Targaryens visited fury and fire upon the Volantese, ending its near five decade long uninterrupted control over two of Valyria's daughters and his homeland of Achissa. In the uncertainty and violence that followed, it was only the Lost Legion, a renowned mercenary company structured like the Lockstep Legions of old, that shielded their town.
This inspired Daemon. And by the time he was ten, he'd made up his mind. He was going to be a Legionnaire. By the age of fourteen he'd take steps in making his dream reality, attempting to train in the Legion's fort. He found himself adept with weapons, and his insistence on training did not go unnoticed. He had caught the attention of then praetor of the Tiger Banner, Aelyx Tarreos. A commander of high standing in both the Legion and town of Achissa, he had taken the young Daemon under his wing, earning him the nickname 'Tiger Cub'.
In 17 AC, at the age of 23, Daemon would be named a Sword of the Corps for the Tiger Banner thanks to his cunning mind and Aelyx's tutelage and in 18 AC, Aelyx would become the Legate of the Legion. He appointed Daemon to serve as his Quaestor, managing logistics for the Legion and serving as a higher officer. It was during this time that he served with distinguished service, managing the operations of the Legion in the Disputed Lands. Life moved quickly for Daemon, and he would marry. In 19 AC, he would welcome a daughter into the world, but at the cost of his love who died shortly after childbirth.
After multiple successful campaigns, Aelyx would surprise Daemon by choosing to name his heir, adopting him and allowing him to take his name in the year 20 AC. Unfortunately, not long after in 23 AC disaster would strike: the city of Achissa would come under threat by mercenaries, its position coveted by the regional powers of Myr and Tyrosh. The Legion would make a daring stand at the fields of Achissa but it was for not. Defeated, the Legion made a hasty retreat to Achissa and began the process of evacuating in an attempt to spare the Achissans the fate of slavery.
Getting assistance from the Blue Sails, the remnants of the Legion regrouped in Plankey Town, but had been decimated. Among the casualties was Aelyx Tarreos and the majority of the Banner of the Bull. Embittered by the loss of Achissa, Daemon pledged to find a new home - for his daughter, and his people. Donning the mantle of the White Tiger, Daemon would sway the Officers of the Tiger Banner into naming him Praetor. Unfortunately, a stalemate grew between the three remaining Praetors. No Legate would be elected. As to the fate of Ērinnon, the sword that never surrenders, it has ended up in Daemon's capable hands until such a time a legate is named.
The Legion has, since, wandered Westeros, taking work primarily in the destabilized Reach and attempting to regrow their number and establish their reputation again. The Achissan refugees, serving as camp followers and laborers, are never far behind eagerly awaiting their chance to take back their home. But, among servants and officers, it's whispered that Daemon in particular has become more attached to the foreign land than the other two Praetor, and may seek to find his home here under the last Dragonlords - a rumor that could become reality should he become the next Legate.

Timeline

• 6 BC: Daemon is born to Daeron of Tyria, a blacksmith in Achissa.
• 8 AC: Daemon begins visiting the Legion's fort and demanding to train. his prowess catches the eye of trainers and Aelyx Tarreos
• 12 AC: Daemon formally joins the Tiger Banner and is tutored by then Praetor Aelyx.
• 17 AC: Daemon becomes a Sword of the Corps.
• 18 AC: Daemon is named Quaestor of the Legion after Aelyx becomes the Eighth Legate.
• 19 AC: Daemon's wife, Jaehaera, passes away while giving birth to their daughter, Mae.
• 20 AC: Aelyx Tarreos adopts Daemon into his family, allowing him to take his name.
• 23 AC: The Legion is nearly destroyed at the Battle at the Fields of Achissa. The Legion evacuates the city of Achissa and regroups in Westeros. Daemon becomes the Praetor of the Tiger Banner.
• 24 AC: The Legion takes work in the Reach fighting bandits and attempts to recoup its losses.
• 25 AC: The Legion makes camp outside King's Landing, hoping to take advantage of the upcoming festivities and gather recruits and patronage in equal amounts.

Archetypes

• Aemond Volaerys, Commander - The stern Praetor of the Elephant Banner and the senior most of the three Praetors, Aemond is aging but his mind is still sharp. In the twilight of his life he has vowed he will take back Achissa or die in the process - so long as he may be buried there with his men once it's said and done.
• Lucerys Montekar, Scholar - The current Quaestor of the Legion, Lucerys is a tight lipped and perpetually frowning young man who has been charged with managing logistics and arms of the Legion and, since the flight from Achissa, is charged with overseeing the refugees and managing their resources. He's become skilled with bookkeeping, at least.

Auxiliary Character

Name and House: Baelon the Butcher
Age: 40
Cultural Group: Valyrian
Appearance: Standing over six foot two, Baelon cuts a powerful figure. He is dark of hair with violet eyes and is said to have a beard. Few outside of the Legion's command structure have seen him without his brass mask depicting a bearded man, an artifact of forgotten times. It's resulted in a number of rumors about his appearance, with many believing him to be scarred or suggest he's suffering from grayscale, and more outlandish rumors being that there's more than one Baelon.
Trait: Unscrupulous
Skill(s): Tactician, 2H (e)
Talent(s): Language: Westerosi Common, Military Philosophy, Fishing
Negative Trait(s): N/A
Starting Title(s): Praetor of the Lost Legion, the Dragon Praetor
Starting Location: Opening Event

Biography

Baelon's youth is shrouded in mystery. Surfacing in the year of 5 AC, Baelon swiftly rose in the ranks of the Dragon Banner. Characterized by his strange mask and armor, he became known in his youth for his savage nature on the battlefield, cleaving men in two with his large sword. This translated to his tactics once he was promoted to an officer, where he touted the theories of Baelor the Brass Dragon, a Commander known for his brutal approach to conducting war.
Burning farms, severing supply lines, taking no quarter, and liberating slaves of the enemy combatants were fundamental to his approach to warfare in the Disputed Lands - to make it unprofitable and bloody for the enemies. His unscrupulous nature saw a meteoric rise and he would become a Praetor at only 25, the youngest to have successfully done so.
Unlike the other two Praetors, while he has sympathy toward the plight of the Achissans, he believes that the Legion is still an army first and foremost, and rejects the idea of settling. This is not entirely unpopular with the Legion's younger soldiers and officers, especially as the town of Achissa falls further and further into the past. It's possible that, should he become Legate that this will be the future of the Legion - an army with no state forever more.

Timeline

• 5 AC - Baelon joins the Legion at the age of 20.
• 8 AC - Baelon's prowess on the battlefield earns him a promotion - and a reputation
• 10 AC - Baelon becomes the Praetor of the Dragon Banner and implements his brutal strategies on the field.
• 23 AC - Baelon helps evacuate Achissa, joins his brothers in Westeros.
• 24 AC: The Legion takes work in the Reach fighting bandits and attempts to recoup its losses.
• 25 AC: The Legion makes camp outside King's Landing, hoping to take advantage of the upcoming festivities and gather recruits and patronage in equal amounts.

Sorry about the delay. I ultimately decided that the story needed a substantial re-write and ended up back at square one. Unfortunately, this means chapters will now only go up three times a week (Monday, Wednesday, Friday). Hopefully you’ll enjoy this new version, and find it worth the wait.
Also, my Patreon is now up if you feel like supporting my writing. I’ll add advance chapters as soon as they’re written.
Thanks for reading!
---------------------------------------------------------------
Prequel (Parts 1 to 16)
1. Rise of a Valkyrie
Previous ¦ Royal Road ¦ Patreon
2. Task Force Nemesis
"He, General or mere Captain, who employs everyone in the storming of a position, can be sure of seeing it retaken by an organized counterattack of four men and a corporal."
- Battle Studies, Ardant du Picq
“You’re one of those Academy girls, aren’t you?”
Christie Stirling’s heart seized as a shock of adrenaline lanced through her body, and she needed a great deal of effort not to flinch or tremor. Other party guests looked around in surprise, but her smile remained unblemished. She turned with the lazy and graceless air she had portrayed throughout the night to look into the predatory eyes of Allana Rayker; the inhuman terrorist who had killed her best friend.
The question was either a trap or an accusation. The Academy—a fake university—was the cover of the shadowy organization that had recruited Christie. They had made her a Valkyrie; an enhanced super soldier tasked with protecting humanity from the devastating armaments of an extinct alien race, and those, like Rayker, who wanted to exploit those weapons for evil purposes.
Now that Valkyrie had found the evil woman’s hiding place, the hunt was reaching its final moments. But, shaken by surprise, Christie’s instincts screamed that her cover was blown, that she would be tortured and executed, and that the rest of the task force stealthily approaching the chateau would be discovered and attacked.
She feigned a puzzled smile as she fought for control of her emotions. All around the room, expensively dressed party goers mingled and talked with abandon. Light flashed off crystal glasses, chandeliers, and jewelry worth more than any citizen’s life. A man tipsy with wine laughed raucously at the joke of a Central Committee member, no doubt eager to impress one of the most powerful people in the galaxy.
The exclusive party, hosted by Joakinn Meissner, newly selected president of the largest arms manufacturer in the galaxy, had been anticipated for months. The guests were lost in the lavish display of wealth, with no idea, Christie was certain, that they might be about to witness a gruesome murder.
An angry inner voice drowned out the rising panic. How dare she allow herself to fail? How dare she let down her fellow Valkyrie, who had worked tirelessly for years to hunt down Rayker, and finally bring her to justice? And how dare she betray the memory of her friend Rose, who had already given her life in that struggle? There was simply no room for weakness, and Christie would be damned if she was going to let the operation end so abysmally.
She held onto her façade by her fingertips, as a gut-wrenching void swung beneath her.
“Where?” she asked, slurring her words. “Oh, you mean the mystery school? No, I went to Cambridge actually.”
She kept her eyes unfocused and wandering, but nevertheless taking in details. The galaxy’s most dangerous terrorist was dressed in black, and an earpiece was just visible behind the locks of black hair that fell from the neat bun. She didn’t hold a glass, and stood awkwardly, as one who doesn’t care to impress or reassure. On her wrists, Christie noticed the subtle bulges in the skin that marked her most deadly weapons—spikes of bone that she could launch with more power and speed than bullets.
Rayker stared into her eyes, dragging out the silence. Around them, the fabulously adorned guests began to look over, bemused by the strange interaction. Christie continued the drunken pause, allowing her eyes to droop with fatigue. She wished it were real, but tonight she could not be affected by alcohol. Like all Valkyrie, her bloodstream was flooded with nano machines that gave her enhanced speed, strength, and healing potential. Twenty-four hours earlier, a bioengineer had programmed the nanites to target and break down all alcohol enzymes that passed through her system.
Unfortunately, even advanced technology wouldn’t help her survive for long against Rayker.
Eventually Christie began to turn away, suppressing the shiver she felt at showing her back to a predator.
“Loving the dress,” she said with a hint of disdain. “Not everyone can pull off funeral black at a drinky fete.”
“Perhaps I was mistaken,” Rayker said, her voice neutral. “I’m afraid I haven’t had the pleasure.”
Christie stopped and looked back at her with a smirk. “Gosh, you’re scary!” she crowed. “You might almost be a villain in one of those spy movies!”
A wave of embarrassed silence, interrupted by a few titters, passed through the crowd, while others hid disbelieving grins behind their drinks.
Rayker ignored them and extended her hand. “Allana Rayker. I’m an associate of Herr Meissner.”
Christie shook limply. “I’m Petti.”
Rayker’s eyebrows flickered as she suppressed an obviously contemptuous expression. “You’re the girl who found success on the feeds recently? Modeling lingerie?” Her lips twisted into a fake smile. “I wouldn’t normally be interested, but so many men have told me that you have a surprising intellect.”
Of course, the meeting had been inevitable. Rayker had been prowling the halls of Meissner’s Chateau, interrogating every young woman in a similar fashion. Christie’s cover had been calculated to make her stand out, but in a way that could be easily dismissed. ‘Petti’ was a highly connected social influencer, who craved adoration and attention. It had been a fun role, up until now.
Christie grinned at the lascivious looks around her. “You guys—you’re so sweet!”
Her crowd of male admirers laughed, then directed blank stares at Rayker. Christie offered a prayer of thanks for the collective lust that was patiently trying to convince the intruder that she was an unwelcome bore who had no right to deprive them of the attention offered by an inebriated and provocatively dressed young woman, and should leave as soon as possible.
“Enchanté,” Rayker said, and stalked off.
“Is there a draft in here? I think I felt a chill,” Christie said to more laughter.
She turned her sunbeam smile back to the crowd while she reached a gently shaking hand up to brush the silver of her brooch. The tiny and delicate shapes of the flower’s petals helped calm her mind as she focused on the next step.
A mile away, in the dense woods of the Chateau’s outer grounds, Lance-Corporal Kayla Barnes moved slowly through the dark undergrowth. She placed each foot purposefully, testing the ground before shifting her weight to prevent the cracking of a twig or the rustle of leaves.
As she crested a low rise, she froze. The multi-wavelength vizor of her helmet showed the surrounding trees and foliage in dark grey and black patterns. Amidst the visual chaos she had been struggling to navigate, a pair of tiny white blobs had suddenly appeared.
Heat sources. Guards.
Kayla reached for the comm switch on her chest and triple clicked the talk button, sending a burst of static noise to the rest of the squad. Close behind, the three other members of her fire team, who had stopped when she had, raised their rifles and peered through scopes at the distant threat. Further along the gentle slope, the second half of their eight-woman squad also stopped, as they too scanned to locate the new target.
They were Rangers, part of Valkyrie’s elite infantry force. Under the cover of darkness, they had climbed through the surrounding mountains and crept past local security forces to infiltrate the chateau grounds. When the time came, their job would be to neutralize the VennZech corporation’s mercenary guards, leaving the Chateau infiltrators free to break in and take down Rayker.
Kayla would either succeed in her mission or die trying. She had graduated Valkyrie’s crushing selection course together with her three best friends, whom she had sworn never to let down. She had already unforgivably failed Rose Djallen; killed in action on a previous operation. Thandi Khawula was in the squad’s second fire team, covering her movements. Christie was in the chateau, facing their target alone.
As Kayla watched the distant blobs draw closer, they resolved into familiar human figures. Three of them. They were strolling, weapons slung, as they made the head and arm movements of everyday conversation.
Of course they were distracted; they had the Ambrosia detail. The planet was the luxury destination for the most powerful members of human society. On its pristine shores, rivalries and factions were forgotten. Powerful cartel members, after being offered a month’s stay, would be offered mutual, but discrete, agreements in place of a prison sentence. Business might be politely discussed, but anyone looking to extort or threaten fellow guests of would find their home planet visited by a Helvetic League security fleet. The normally fractious and squeamish planetary governors would look the other way. Nobody in their right mind would want to disturb this world’s tranquility.
But Valkyrie worked from the shadows and went wherever they pleased. Besides, if everything went to plan, nobody would even know what had happened.
The Chateau was built high on the slopes of Ambrosia’s most popular mountain range, not far from a huge ski resort. Perched on the edge of a sheer cliff, the building was flanked by a spectacular waterfall. In daylight, there was a jaw dropping view of the surrounding peaks and valleys. The grounds were covered in dense forests that stretched across the surrounding slopes. Normally, they were peaceful, disturbed only by the occasional guest out for an adventurous hike. Now they were crawling with Rangers, closing in to seal the chateau off from the outside world.
Kayla slowly turned her head and found the muted gray patch of her squad leader a short distance away. Their combat suits kept their body heat from seeping out into the world—as much a necessity to protect them in the vacuum of space as to keep them hidden. The diffuse blob of Corporal Ksenia ‘Kes’ Rudaski slowly raised an arm towards Kayla, and made a gentle motion in the direction of the approaching men.
Kayla raised her own hand in a thumbs up, then began to move forward. She did not need to see or hear her three other Rangers to know they would be close behind.
The two elements were separating. Kes’ Alpha team spread out on the rise to keep their rifles aimed at the new threats, while Kayla’s Bravo team crept towards them.
Their commanders had decided early in the operation that they should attempt to minimize human casualties wherever possible. To that end, Kayla and her squad mate Ray carried stun rifles. They could stop the heart of a human with a projectile that could latch into the skin and deliver a violent electric shock. Then, the Rangers would have up to two minutes to reach the unconscious victims and inject them with a solution to restart their cardiac rhythm before a powerful tranquilizer took effect. The men would wake up with amnesia hours later, and Valkyrie would confidently maintain its secrecy while assuaging the ethical concerns that interfering in human society often brought them.
Unfortunately, the weapons were only effective to a hundred yards. Kayla and Ray would have to get as close as they could before they could take out all three of the guards. They had night vision, and any sound would carry far on such a quiet night. Even distracted, they wouldn’t miss a disturbance amongst the trees.
Kayla had been a talented stalker since she was a child, a noiseless shadow in any environment. Nevertheless, there was always the chance that something could go wrong, and the Rangers couldn’t take the risk of a compromise when so much was on the line.
Certainly not, Kayla grimly reminded herself, when Christie’s life was in so much peril. One wrong move and Rayker would kill her immediately before making good her own escape and destroying months of work.
So Kes and her three Rangers kept their high-powered, suppressed rifles trained on the distant men. At the slightest hint of a problem, they wouldn’t hesitate to kill, and the ‘moral question’ would be chalked up to the fortune of war. False intelligence would be distributed implicating cartel involvement in the raid. Valkyrie ethics had always been a nebulous concept at best.
The closer Kayla got through the undergrowth to her target the closer, she knew, her watcher’s lethal assistance would have to pass by her own body. But she felt no fear. Thandi had become a talented marksman; neither she nor the others would make a mistake.
Now only fifty yards away, the men stopped by a large boulder, leaning against the rock while they drank from their canteens. Kayla dropped to her belly and merged into the ground as she slithered forward.
Previous ¦ Royal Road ¦ Patreon
Prequel (Parts 1 to 16)
1. Rise of a Valkyrie