Hey,
I (M,currently 27) was in a relationship back from 2017 to 2020. I know it is quite some time ago but I think the situation messed me up more than I thought. I hope writing on here helps me. I honestly don’t know where to begin so I’ll just write and see what comes out
Some background: I worked at a youth camp where we were in ‘charge’ of leading groups of kids daily around attractions and activities where I met (let’s call her K) that time we were both a group leader of different groups. Me at that time being 20 and her being 19. This is where we met.
K already had 2 relationships before me which were quite abusive, she didn’t tell me straight from the start but as our relationship grew she slowly gave more details. Abuse and rape were not uncommon in those relationships and she worked up quite some traumatic experiences while she was 14-17.
During the camp, K had a kid in her group who was misbehaving quite badly, even one who threatened to bring knives next time he would come visit and when one of the kids attacked her I stepped in to hold the kid down. (This was during the moment the kids had to gather to go back home.)
Every day in the morning the kids would be picked up at a certain spot in our city and at the end of the day the busses would bring them back to those spots. Every day I would go to the camp by car, together with another coworker. He would bring us to the spot of the youth camp and we would drive back home afterwards. The final day of the week, he wanted to go grab a drink at the beach, and because her bus was missing one more bus leader, we arranged to drive with her bus.
From that moment on we talked a lot, there was a party on the last day of the camp (it’s only there for 3 weeks a year during summer holiday) and she asked if she could go with us by car. After the party I drove everyone back home and took her home last. She was prepared for having a ONS, even though my intentions were more than that, we talked till late at night/early in the morning and the next day she would leave towards her parents vacation home in France.
During her holiday in France we talked daily and grew quite close. She had some things she didn’t want to tell me about, like her exes, but after a couple of weeks she came back and we planned to go for a walk, she lived close to the beach. After a couple months and dates, we started to become official bf/gf.
Things started off great even though K was quite insecure. I tried my best to be there for her at every moment she needed it, and quite soon after becoming official she was getting some health issues. After some blood tests, she was very scared of and I always went with her to the hospital. She was diagnosed with a couple of viruses.
Long story short, she was tired a lot, had pain in her entire body without any cause, stuff like that.
I was feeling really bad for her, so much so that I quit my studies and was there to support her at any step of the way. Even though the illnesses she had were untreatable. (I never told her she was the reason, I told her it was because I didn’t like the study.)
Our relationship had ups and downs, because of her traumatic experiences she wasn’t always feeling alright without our relationship.
She always said she had to get used to being treated well because she never had that. By the way, whenever we had sex I made sure to prioritise her over myself so she wouldn’t feel like it was forced and I really had to teach her to please herself (she also never masturbated before me, as that was difficult for her due to her past)
Our relationship grew and we go to know each others families but she still had problem commiting, she was broken before and I tried to give her space and tell her that I was ‘the real deal’ and was there because I loved her. There were times where she was having commitment issues. (At the start of the relationship I also told her I didn’t want to force her but I really started to have feelings and didn’t know what to do with that because I knew about her commitment issues.)
Her past of being SA and forced to do things she didn’t want to continued to play some part in our relationship at times of her insecurities and doubts.
Things went wrong at the same youth camp some time later, in the summer of 2019. (In 2018 she got a promotion to leader of the camp so technically she was my boss during the camp.)
During the end-party with only the staff, she got somewhat drunk. (Camp leaders sleep on the premises of the camp in tents, they welcome all the kids and the group leaders every morning and wave them goodbye the end of the day.)
As the BF of one of the camp leaders I was allowed to sleep with her in the tent that day and help the organisation clean up the day after.
As a guy people easily talk to, later during the party one of the other group leaders came up to me and asked to talk, she was very sad and tried with every power to hold back her tears. I agreed and during the party we went to a quiet place so she could vent.
I have to add, I was quite popular as a group leader, I always connected well with coworkers, shared stuff with them and made sure we all would come along nicely. Which also made me an easy person to talk or vent to, it was also widely known I was the BF of K.
The coworker bursted out in tears when we sat down on a bench at the park and she told me what was wrong.
We talked for about half an hour, in which my phone was in my pocket and I wasn’t responding and when we came back to the group friends of mine started telling me K was looking for me. Apparently someone had seen me leave with the other coworker and K, in her insecurity and drunkenness got very upset I was cheating on her.
So I went down to find K and talked to her but it didn’t matter what I told her she didn’t believe me and was convinced I had s*x with that girl on that park bench.
The people slowly left and as we didn’t want to make a whole public argument out of it, she decided to behave normally until we were alone in the tent later.
I told her to talk tomorrow, promised her I didn’t cheat, but at the moment she was too influenced to talk about what happened, she agreed but about 5 minutes later she began to harass me. K tried kicking me out of the bed, continued to be annoying and that made me decide to move from out of the tent into some other place to sleep.
I moved myself and my belongings to a tent that was used for some of the activities to create some space and hoped I would be able to get some sleep and work things out the next day.
After 10/15 minutes, my phone kept buzzing like crazy, she was looking for me. I told her that I wouldn’t go back and we will figure it out tomorrow. I tried to sleep but 10 minutes later she was next to me and had my phone in her hand. Threatening to break it by throwing it on the ground and hitting me if I didn’t come with her back to the tent because “everyone would look at us weirdly if I slept in some other place.”
I tried to calm her down but in the end she threw my phone onto the floor and to make sure things wouldn’t escalate more I agreed and went back with her to the tent.
The next day would be cleaning day, in which I just tidied up and cleaned, we didn’t talk much. At some point she became more violent against me where she would throw things towards me. I told one of the other camp leaders and a good friend of mine I would leave earlier to not escalate the situation because she was attacking me. I grabbed my stuff, went to the bus and left for home. During my trip home she still continued to send messages ranging from come back to hating me.
The next day she would go with her parents to their holiday home in France, I would come 2 weeks later and after a short visit of me there (1 week) we would go to Disney together as our own holiday. (Already booked before the drama started.)
In the 2 weeks that followed I tried to create some space for myself, vented with friends. I was really hurt by the situation but I blamed her past for her behaviour. I was definitely upset by her attacking and slapping me and breaking my stuff. She would contact me more and more while I tried to create space to solve what happened.
We discussed the holiday plans and what we would do, but as I wanted to patch things up, I decided I would go there, we could talk.
After arriving there, there were mixed feelings, she wanted to be more physical than I was used to but I had a hard time because of what happened. (I had trouble to finish or didn’t even want to have physical contact.) We talked it over, I explained my side of the story and it all seemed to be patched up a little.
At some point I ended up with both her parents at a table, 3 against 1, where they would blame me for having the discussion with the coworker in private to help her out because she was having a hard time and how I should never have done that. I never said anything about her violence towards me. I was far from home and I didn’t want to escalate the situation. The upcoming days went better but still not as we used to have. Then came the Disney Trip.
Disney was a freaking nightmare, the first days were fun but at some point the whole situation came back up. (Important; she speaks French and I don’t.) We were walking outside of the hotel (close to Disney) and she was getting more angry, started to scream help in French.
Which meant that I was in a country where I didn’t speak the language, with a girl who screamed for help in a language I didn’t understand. She grabbed her phone and called her mother, told her I was ‘the same as her exes and how I abused her.’ (Turns out, the call was fake, she wanted to know who I would call as she thought I would call the girl from the youth camp I helped out.)
I was scared someone would come and kick the shit out of me or I didn’t have a way to get home (she had the train tickets) so I grabbed my phone and called one of my best mates. I explained the situation and asked if he could pick me up. Without a doubt he jumped in his car and drove towards me. I walked away from K towards the hotel to grab my stuff, she was surprised and followed me, begging me to not leave her there and told me she was ‘testing if I would/expecting me to call the girl.’ She practically begged me to call my best mate off and we patched it up towards the point where I would be okay leaving with the train with her.
I called my best mate and told him things would be okay and he didn’t have to come, he asked if I was sure and I thanked him so much for being prepared to come but things were okay.
After the whole ordeal things were a little more okay but I was on edge. On the day we left we had one more fight about the situation in which I called her some bad words and she just broke down crying and patched it back up before we stepped into the train to our 6 hour ride home.
To be clear, I have never and will never lay my hands on a woman, not even when she attacked me, threw things at me or stuff like that, all I did was grab her wrists so she wouldn’t hit me more but at the end of that holiday of 3 weeks with a lot of very mixed emotions, fights, being cornered (3v1), a lot of physical cravings on her side I was so tired that I called her some heavy swear words in that last fight.
I loved her and wanted to make things alright again, but her mood swings made it very difficult, also her breaking my trust for not believing me made it tough on me. My phone was always accessible. (Apparently she did a lot of checks on my phone at night, also before the fight, where she tried to find messages of infidelity but never found any.)
In the months that followed we never got back to our old selves but we were heading there. At some point she started using a dating app to make friends. (Bumble) She said she was feeling lonely and wanted more friends since she had lost a very good one in those 2 years. (One of the girls she hung around with a lot and her got into a fight about some stupid stuff.) She was very jealous on my social skills and wanted to make new friends.
At some point she asked me if it was okay for her to meet up with some guy for coffee. She met the guy on Bumble. I told her if she would do that I would leave because I would feel betrayed. After her telling the guy she had a BF the guy lost interest. (Figures..) At the time I didn’t know that Bumble BFF function would only show you people from your own gender, so she lied about which part of Bumble she was on. Afterwards she said she wanted guy friends.
March 2020, one day before the National lockdown she broke up with me, I told her I felt betrayed for her leaving me after everything I’ve done for her and that was the start of a serious dark period. Having everything to having nothing. My job had to close down, curfew and no more GF.
Within those last months she started therapy too, which helped her quite a lot. Some memories she pushed away came back and I have to admit that the stories are horrible. I always felt so bad for her. She did try to be open about it all, but at some point she still decided to break things off.
2/3 months later, she contacted me again, lockdown has been a little less strict so I could go back to work and she called me to meet her afterwards. She cried on the phone, a lot happened and she was in a real bad place. I visited her, we talked and she tried to seduce me. I told her that if she wanted us to recover it had to take time. We never made it official again but we became sort of Bf/Gf for a couple more months after which she dropped me again.
She started dating a guy she met on Bumble while in our official relationship within weeks. Got doubts and contacted me again. After we split again she got back with that guy. (As far as I know they’re together still.)
The youth camp still occurred and I was still going, I loved the job and thought of myself as strong enough to just do my job and nothing else there. She always restrained us from being very touchy when working there (hugs and/or a kiss to say hey) but with her new BF she didn’t everything she could to be close to him, I’ve always found that strange.
Now, two years after that last one, I am no longer able to go to the camp, even though I didn’t do anything wrong she pulled some strings and got me blacklisted for some reason. I really hate her for that because I loved working there. When I visited the theme park it occurs in last year I got welcomed by two of her coworkers asking me what I came to visit for.
I didn’t tell anyone about how violent she was towards me, there were a lot more instances but I thought this post would be long enough already. I don’t know why but I feel this whole situation had been tough on me. I have a hard time dating again and feel insecure a lot more.
I don’t want to say she is all to blame, I am not perfect either, but I tried, I fought and now I feel like I can’t do that anymore with others.
Thank you if you’ve made it to the end. I hope this helps me to move on.

No, it's not the very popular "Desu", although I feel the name might include the term "desu" which makes it harder to track down. Basically it's a standard mashup of the character Karen's anime voice lines set to music. I don't know what the song they used was, but it has a slow tempo with banjo, kinda country twangy, much different feeling from the usual high energy mashups. I believe I originally found a version on the now defunct iwantmoar dot com, and used to be able to find it on YouTube.
Back to the song used, I feel that it is related to Mario or Nintendo in general as that seemed to be a popular trend at the time. Other amvs I remember around that time were Kagami's Gourmet Race and one with Konata, both characters being from Lucky Star. Again the one I'm after has a more mellow beat, but I felt these were important to mention for the sake of context.

LFG on Tuesday or Thursday, any reasonable time CST. Wanting to play one of my noble air genasi college of eloquence bard characters.
A little bit about myself: I'm Alex (They/Them), a 28 y/o disabled/queeneurodivergent person who has been playing D&D 5e for the past 2 years. I've been in a few campaigns since I started, but had to adjust my schedule a couple months ago for what campaigns I could join due to university. Tuesdays and Thursdays are my current open days since I'm generally busy most other days.
I'd like to play a more noble bard character in search of a way to free his old band of adventuring pals from a teardrop necklace that he wears around his neck (and occasionally sees and talks with his old friends in his dreams while wearing this necklace). He has no idea if they are actually savable or if he's actually talking to the real "them" in his dreams, but he's more than willing to try to find a way by any means necessary. Whether or not this is possible or a sidequest that happens is up to the GM.
I'd like to talk more about character ideas as well as any questions you have about me over Discord, either DM or call. I'd also like if you could send any table rules you may have that I should know about over Discord DM as well. I'll be vibe checking anyone who adds me just to see who I'm more likely to enjoy playing with more, if that's okay.
Also: my apologies, but I haven't used many VTTs. I've used owlbear rodeo and Foundry once, but I'm not a big fan of roll20, so I usually just use Discord with the party and I roll physical dice as well as digital dice on D&D beyond for bigger amounts of dice for damage, or anything requiring more than just a couple rolls.
Please add me on Discord (and leave a comment here letting me know that you did with your username since I get a lot of random friend requests a day and don't know who to add/ignore because of my username). My Discord username is: Lain
I look forward to speaking with you, and remember to comment your Discord username below when you add me so I know who you are. Thank you for your time!

Hi, I am writing here because I need a place to share. Since I was a child I always was attracted to the STEM field, particularly mathematics. I remember myself not listening to classes just to read another chapter in the library about some forgotten rule or to solve a question given to me by one of my friends. Now, I see math as my passion.
I also like to hike, I'm a hiking guide of a small children group and once a week I give them an activity about nature. I am part of organization. I have always liked to walk from a young age.
In the Corona I was taking some university courses so in the last year I had a lot of free hours, I use those hours to explore and discover new or forgotten cisterns alone. I'm noticing that in the evenings, when it gets dark, I want to walk aimlessly and think about life, this is the time I'm most lonely. It doesn't matter if it is in a trip or a normal day at home. I also have a lot more session of learning math and listening to music in my room. I think this is because I spend a lot of time alone hiking and learning.
My passion of math is not very common where I live, while I don't think it makes people around me feel uneasy, it sometimes feel like I have something that I don't have anybody to share with. When I study, when I explore, when I go on trips alone, I wish I could just have someone to share the experience with. I sometimes feel like while it sometimes fun to have the feeling of achieving alone, I wasn't someone to share the moment with, to not feel alone.
lately, I am seeing a girl in the hiking organization. We are kind of bonding together when we are together in trips (each of us with his own group). Each time we see each other we have a great time together and we share each other with our life. those trips are once every 2 months and we meet in the nature activities she give to her group of children. In the last trip together she asked me on a date. But when the day came, she told me she could not come because of her volunteering year.
(In my country, military is mandatory, so peoples can choose to volunteering one year in some kind of way and to enlist one year later, those volunteering years are usually have really tight schedule and they don't have a lot of free time for themselves. This girl is volunteering in the hiking organization)
So I asked her for the next week, there was another issue with her year of volunteering. this happened 2 more times.
While I know this is not her fault because I'm also part of the organization and I'll go for the same volunteering year next year, I still don't know how to describe my feelings, like some kind of still want to spend time with her because when we have those, they are amazing, but I also want someone that I can go out with. I feel kinda bad because this is really not her fault and she does not have a lot of free time at all, I feel selfish for seeing the situation from my perspective. I decided to ask her one more time and decide by her response.
My country is also at war, so her year of volunteering had been shortened and she will enlist in 3 months. I don't know if I should continue to get in a relationship with her, because the army gives weekends of. Or should I start to look somewhere else.
* I just wanted to share my situation with someone, so thanks you if you decide to post, I want to hear some thoughts from random peoples in the internet.

"Wonder Boy in Monster World / The Dynastic Hero" won last week's poll, in a tight 5-way race, and is named the 44th best game of the era and the 13th Genesis game to join the list!

The Best Games of the SNES/Genesis/TG-16 Era Voted in So Far:

1. The Legend of Zelda: A Link to the Past
2. Chrono Trigger
3. Super Mario World
4. Super Metroid
5. Donkey Kong Country
6. Mega Man X
7. Sonic 3 & Knuckles
8. EarthBound / Mother 2
9. Final Fantasy VI / III
10. Streets of Rage
11. Street Fighter II
12. The Legend of Zelda: Link's Awakening
13. Mega Man X2
14. Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Turtles in Time
15. Super Castlevania IV
16. Earthworm Jim
17. Gunstar Heroes
18. Donkey Kong Country 2: Diddy's Kong Quest
19. The Secret of Monkey Island
20. Super Mario RPG: Legend of the Seven Stars
21. Super Mario World 2: Yoshi's Island
22. The Revenge of Shinobi
23. Sonic the Hedgehog 2
24. Rocket Knight Adventures
25. Dragon Quest V: Hand of the Heavenly Bride
26. Kirby Super Star / Kirby's Fun Pak
27. Terranigma
28. Castlevania: Rondo of Blood
29. Contra III: The Alien Wars
30. Phantasy Star IV: The End of the Millennium
31. Tetris
32. Doom
33. SimCity 2000
34. Shining Force II
35. Comix Zone
36. NHL '94
37. Streets of Rage 2
38. Kirby's Dream Land 3
39. Mortal Kombat II
40. Myst
41. Mario Paint
42. Wolfenstein 3D
43. Harvest Moon
44. Wonder Boy in Monster World / The Dynastic Hero

Want to see the best games before this era? Check out these 2 lists which were compiled by Reddit users' nominations and votes over 3 entire years:

The 50 Best Video Games of the Atari Era:

https://www.reddit.com/retrogaming/comments/o4drau/best_video_games_of_the_atari_era_poll_final/

The 100 Best Video Games of the NES/Master System Era:

https://www.reddit.com/retrogaming/comments/140z3gj/best_video_games_of_the_nesmaster_system_era_poll/

What You Can Do:

1. Vote in the poll to determine the 45th best SNES/Genesis/TG-16 Era game!
2. Then AFTER VOTING IN THE POLL: In the comments section, Upvote your favourite SNES/Genesis/TG-16 Era games to be nominated and added to next week's poll. NOTE: NOT ONE OF THE SIX GAMES IN THIS WEEK'S POLL!

• If one of your favourites hasn't been mentioned yet, leave a new comment (NOT one of the six games in this week's poll), nominating ONE game per comment (so that it's clear which game is being nominated). Comment directly to the original post to make it easy to see which games have the most upvotes.

What You Can Nominate:

• Any Arcade coin-op game (including Neo Geo) from 1989-1994.
• Any Computer game (any PC system) from 1989-1994.
• Any Home Console game or Handheld Console game from the 4th Generation (regardless of year published unless it is a port): https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fourth_generation_of_video_game_consoles
• NO PS1 games, NO N64 games, NO Saturn games. Those systems aren't retro enough for this poll.
• YES Sega CD, YES Genesis 32X, YES TurboGrafx-CD.
• YES Game Boy games, NO Game Boy Color, NO Game Boy Advance, YES Game Gear games.

Exceptions:

In general, the original year published takes precedence. No games that played betteare more iconic/are more remembered in an earlier or later era.
All variations of a game will be under one entry (e.g. only one entry for "Street Fighter II").
No collections of previously released games (i.e. no "Super Mario All-Stars").
"Sonic 3 & Knuckles" will be one combined entry.
"Tetris" made its biggest impact with 35 million copies sold for the Game Boy, so it is now eligible for this poll.
Arcade games that received NES Era home console ports like the "Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles" arcade game, are now eligible.
"Altered Beast" was a Genesis pack-in game, so is now eligible.
Instances like this can be debated. I think it's best to allow all games from a console to be designated to one era, and for games to appear in one era poll only.

Other Nominated Games From Last Round:

• None

Last round 31 people voted in the poll, and 0 new games were nominated in the comments section. Any of these (or any other eligible games) can be nominated again this round in the comment section to be added to next week's poll. Make your voice heard! It just takes a couple of upvotes to get your game nominated on next week's list.

The Idea:

Comparing, say, Pong and Call of Duty: Modern Warfare, is not useful. It's like arguing which is better: the Ford Model T or the Space Shuttle? But comparing games of their era is interesting and fun! Usually, best game polls are limited to a single system. This poll is unique because it includes all platforms from the era together. How will the best Arcade, Computer and Sega Genesis games compete with the best that Nintendo had to offer? It will be interesting!

Why Only Arcade and Computer Games from 1989-1994?

The 4th Generation of home consoles launched in the West with the Sega Genesis/Mega Drive in 1989, kicking off the 16-bit Era. The PlayStation and Sega Saturn launched in the West in 1995 which will begin the era for the next series of polls after this concludes.

The Criteria:

I'll leave it up to the individual to decide. Innovation, quality, influence, iconic status, how much fun it was then, how it holds up today, are all valid. Whatever games you love, whatever games you want to see named as the greatest of the era.

What Happens Next:

After the poll closes in a week, the winner of the poll will be named the 45th best video game of the SNES/Genesis/TG-16 Era. The new most upvoted of games nominated in the comment section will be added to the 5 “losers”, and be the 6 games in the poll for Week 46, which will name the 46th best SNES/Genesis/TG-16 Era game, and so on. I'd like to continue this to get a Top 100. At that point I would like to continue from the SNES/Genesis/TG-16 Era to the PS1/N64/Saturn Era, for a new set of polls.
This will be a poll I hope to hold every week for a long time! Have fun everyone!
View Poll

I'm a Christian, but I've heard from muslims that kissing or touching the opposite sex, even cousins is considered haram in Islam, I was wondering if this is true for all muslims including the more progressive ones? I ask because even tho I live in Canada I come from a country and culture that is very affectionate, we greet each other with kisses and hugs usually, but there are almost no Muslims and it's almost exclusively Christian or syncretic religions with Christianity. I’m not looking to convert I’m just curious on the actually rulings on it. God bless you all and thanks in advance.

I mean, let's look at the facts and the current state of things, and ask the question: What in the MCU as it exists today, actually sells?
Iron Man is gone.
Steve Rogers is gone.
Black Widow is gone.
Scarlet Witch is gone.
The Guardians of the Galaxy are (mostly) gone.
Hulk...I think it's not unfair to say he never really arrived.
Thor and Doctor Strange are still around and their latest movies did good financially but they were very poorly received by audiences, and we've seen that this kind of poor reception can be cumulative and affect their next movies. Also, who knows how many more Marvel movies Hemsworth and Cumberbatch have in them at this point. Still, let's be optimistic and say they at least have one more Thor movie (because Hemsworth has spoken about it) and one more Doctor Strange movie, to round off the trilogy, and probably one more Avengers movie. So that's good...but that's where the good news end.
Captain Marvel had one of the biggest box office bombs of all time. She's obviously, 100% NOT getting a sequel. Aside from possible side appearances in like an Avengers movie, she is done.
Ms Marvel not only shared that box office bomb as well, but she also had her own underperforming show, with the lowest viewership of all MCU D+ series.
The Eternals flopped as well and there's been talk that any potential sequels are off the table.
Similarly, Tatiana Maslany confirmed that She-Hulk is in all likelihood not getting a season 2.
Quantumania was another big bomb, even bigger than previously reported given the actual budget that was released a couple days ago. No way we're getting Ant-Man 4.
So, who does that leave us with?
Wakanda Forever did okay, but I don't think the Shuri character caught on as a lead, so I don't think Marvel will risk giving her her own movie, especially one that doesn't have the "hook" of serving as a homage and farewell to the late Chadwick Boseman. And I don't think Namor and Ironheart proved particularly popular either.
There's Sam Wilson, but his show didn't have the best reception (a common theme) and the budget of Cap 4 is so ridiculously, stupidly high that it's virtually impossible for the movie to make a profit.
There are the Thunderbolts, but I don't know if Florence Pugh and Sebastian Stan have enough star power to sell a team made up of forgettable (at best) Z-list characters in a movie that's looking like budget Suicide Squad.
There are the Young Avengers, all but hinted at in post-credit scene of The Marvels. But again, Ms Marvel's appeal seems limited and Cassie Lang's inexistent, so I'd be very surprised if that one even makes it off the ground.
Finally, Blade seems stuck in limbo forever and the FF are a gigantic question mark.
So, it seems to me, the answer to the question "What do they have right now that could reliably sell?" is, well, just Spider-Man, as usual, but who knows what's going to happen with the Sony deal, and the nostalgia shit, like the Deadpool, Fox stuff, which don't technically count as being MCU proper.
So a better question would be: What valuable asset would they lose with a reboot? Aside from Spider-Man (which, again, there's the Sony baggage) and maybe Thor and Doctor Strange (who I think are on limited time), I really don't think they have anyone that could reliably put butts on seats or get audiences excited.
I believe the MCU effectively peaked with Endgame and they've reached a point where the current stuff is, by and large, not selling. As simple as that. So I don't think they'd have much to lose by ending Secret Wars with a full reboot, a clean slate completely where they can introduce the new, rebooted X-Men, first and foremost, and later down the line, a new Iron Man, a new Cap, a new Thor, etc.

I've never posted here before, I'm usually just a lurker.
I've noticed a lot of discourse over the past few days about Orientalism and the classes for Samurai and Ninja. I don't really care much.
So some anti-racists got preachy and decided to try to control the community? That's kind of what these people do. They've been doing it for close to half a century at this point, and they're not going to give up the cultural control they have.
Asain people don't mind if I play a Samurai? Cool, good to know but was anyone asking? The only people who need to be comfortable with the characters at my table are the players at my table.
In the midst of all this, I haven't actually seen anything about the Tian Xia world guide. Is it good? What's in it? Is it inspiring you to write a campaign set in the area? Tell me about that. Tell me about the cool characters you've played in games. The unrepentant discourse around whether I'm allowed to make a character as I see fit is just playing into what those mods were trying to do to begin with.
What's going on here at the moment is just culture wars lite. I really try to avoid all of that noise.

So like the title says. My 22 month old strongly prefers her dad. I’m so glad they have a special bond and a happy relationship but I worry that maybe I’m a crappy parent and this is just how our family dynamic will be and I won’t be close to my daughter as she gets older either.
A couple things: This doesn’t seem like a “phase.” She’s now 22 months and has always preferred dad since she could move and make noise. So the calm down, it’s a phase, she’ll like you better in a few weeks feedback I’ve seen a lot of people give doesn’t seem to apply as this has been the case for many months now.
I don’t think this is because she spends more time with me or is because she’s exploring being independent because she was never with me more than him. We both work from home so we are pretty much always with her together whenever she isn’t at daycare. I didn’t breastfeed, I pumped and we supplemented with formula so it’s not even like we had a special bond when she was an infant. Dad and I have literally been 50/50 parents in just about every way since she was born.
It’s starting to drive me nuts and make me really sad that she prefers him so strongly. She only ever wants to cuddle him, at the table or on the couch she only wants to sit on his lap. When he leaves the room she cries, screams and usually tries to follow him. But when I leave she does nothing.
She only ever wants to play with him and I feel like a third wheel just watching them play most days. When she’s upset, if I pick her up and try to comfort her she reaches for him instead. Recently when I have to take her because he needs to do something else she will cry and yell for daddy instead of letting me hold her.
Has anyone been through this for so long without a common explanation? (It’s a short phase, she spends more time with mom, exploring independence from mom etc.). Did it eventually just end? Did it affect your relationship with your kid as they got older? TIA.

I made a post about it here a while ago and I'm still on the hunt.
https://www.reddit.com/tipofmytongue/comments/1ankwsj/tomt_2020s_an_indie_film_that_something_very/
I can now confirm I watched it on a British Airways flight in April of 2023. I'm 72% certain it was a German film that I watched with English subtitles. The plot of the movie has absolutely NOTHING to do with table tennis but I'm certain the cover art featured the main characters playing it and it might have been part of the title. I remember it having a fairly mundane title, something along the lines of "People playing table tennis", or "adults talking about table tennis", it might have been referred to as 'ping pong' instead of 'table tennis'.
Searching for this film is so frustrating because I remember so many small details about it, but I can't for the life of me remember it's title or any of the character's names.
​
Here's some random stuff that might help:
Only the four main characters had speaking lines, two men and two women. (plus the poet who only appeared in the opening scene)
The film ends with the camera crew showing up on screen. The director of the film speaks to the actors for the last couple of minutes(?)
The two leads take the train to visit their friends out of town. A small argument happens because they end up coming off at the wrong stop, I think?
​
I appreciate any help, my soul will not be free until I find this film.

I have been married to my wife for almost 9 years and it goes without saying that we are extremely close and know each other like the back of our hands but I have never quite clicked with my wife as I do with my twin. By that I mean that special bond that twins share that makes us think alike, share identical mannerisms, have shared memories and life experiences. I can talk to my brother about almost anything and most of the time we're on the same wave length. He completely understands me and has usually had similar thoughts,so he can relate and empathise. With my wife on the other hand, I'll talk to her or she'll talk to me and it usually requires more effort, she doesn't always understand me, or at least doesn't know how to respond if I'm sharing concerns or vice versa.
Whenever I think about this it makes me feel guilty. I feel bad that my wife isn't my best friend because that's what I believe your significant other should be to you but at the same time I'm happy that my brother and I have maintained this closeness through all these years even though we now live in different countries, I would never change that and I don't ever want to replace him or lose that bond. I just feel guilty at times, as if my wife deserves more. Can anyone else relate to this?

Multi Part story.
Fantasy.
Any feedback / commentary is welcomed.
Enjoy!
*****
“Go on Hal, it’s a simple spell – slithering serpent unlock the lock.” His professor prompted him in front of the class. Hal glanced at his classmates. Wizards and witches in the making. They were young teenagers. The academy was famous for its introductory courses. He took a deep breath, desperately attempting to ignore the murmurs and whispers in the room, that were most unpleasant to him.
‘He’s gonna blow it up’
‘no no he’ll melt it’
‘he’s going to summon a serpent.’
They were whispering among themselves.
He inhaled through his nose. “Slithering serpent of the lock to unlock.” He misspoke the basic spell.
“NO!” his professor shouted. The small box lock in his hands squirmed and softened. His magic failed, and the misphrase caused an undesired effect. The shackle of the lock pulled itself out of the hole and flicked its tongue. In his hands were now a metal lock’s body, and a metallic snake. Hal gasped, tossing the snake over his shoulder.
“I told you he’ll screw it up.” Shouted another teenager.
“Flamius, engulf!” Another student cast a simple enflaming spell, setting the metallic snake on fire. Hal sighed. Echoes of voices and screams slowly faded. He turned a small lock in his hands, examining it. Intricate patterns carved into the lock’s body were magical in nature. He sighed once more.
“Slithering serpent…” He whispered softly and then stashed the lock away in the inner pocket of his long coat.
After another short nap, he finally got up from the comfort of his resting spot. A grassy patch under a big tree with wide-spread branches, casting a comforting shadow over the entire patch. He placed his hand on the tree and bowed in respect.
“Thank you for the protection, o’old one.”
The tree shook gently, shedding a handful of leaves.
The path he followed was partly overgrown with half-withered grass. The valley in which he found himself seemed to be experiencing a drought. Most of the grass was dried and most weeds were struggling to show any colors other than yellow and brown. Hal was a versed traveler, for he had never managed to find a place he could call home. The longest he managed to stay at a place was 2 years, before an explosive accident resulted in his untimely departure.
“Meowdy traveler.” Smirked a merchant from the driver’s seat of a cart – one of many. A whole caravan was lined up behind, slowly coming to a halt. At a quick glance, Hal counted no less than 12 carts.
“A whole caravan huh? Where do you hail from?” The merchant raised his hand, nibbling on a weed’s stem. He had a sly smirk on his face, and his pupils were narrow and slit-like. Hal focused on the stranger’s eyes, but they were suddenly normal again.
“We’re a traveling group, usually transporters of goods, haulers as your kind calls us.” He replied in a snarky tone. “Returning from the Merila mines, carrying mostly silver ore.” The merchant continued. “Not much to offer, but feel free to peek around if you so desire?”
Hal tilted his head to the side. “Merila mines…There was a rumor of a ‘sage’ that lives there, in the mountains. Heard of him?”
The merchant’s lips curled up into a grin. “Nyess! Though we don’t trade for free, traveler.” Hal pondered.
“I have not much to offer… Basic magical services perhaps? Or, some herbs?”
The merchant seemingly sniffed the air. “That’d be purrfect… Let us settle, set a camp, if you assist I’ll give you a, discount.”
Hal saw no reason not to offer a helping hand to the merchants.
“How long have you been on the road for?” He inquired of a younger lad whom he was helping unload the tents and supplies from 1 of the carts.
“Ohhhh hecking if I know… We departed the Merila uhhh, two days ago? By foot it’ll take you another 4-5 I reckon, maybe even 7, that’s where you headin’ yes? Long journey still… We’r enroute to the port city Calinda to the west.”
The nightfall in a valley surrounded by a range of mountains always came suddenly. One moment it was still day, and then suddenly it was all engulfed by shadows. That evening he found himself enjoying a hearty fishy-stew that was freshly cooked by the merchants. They were a fascinating group that within a few hours went from a traveling caravan to a well set-up self-sustaining camp.
They even had a portable shower. When darkness came, they had traps with baits set up to catch critters for food.
“Sooo, murrster…” Began 1 of the eldest-looking of the merchants.
“Hal, just Hal… uhm…. None of the wizards bear a last name. He explained, curious as to how the merchants seemingly didn’t know that common fact.
“Ahh I see I see, my apologies. A wizard is what we seeked in fact!”
Hal nodded, and gulped anxiously. “Y…yeah?? what for…??
“Nyah, it’s no biggie…”
A rustling behind a tent caught Hal’s attention. His head snapped in the direction of the noise. It was a strange noise, a mixture of cracking bones, squishy flesh, and a tear of the fabric of reality. He knew that last sound especially well. His breathing got heavier. His eyes widened from fright.
He was in a classroom. Learning simple levitation spells. It would mostly serve as a means of making objects float and controlling them.
“World hear me and obey my will, leave it free of your will.” A simple cast, with channeling one’s mana underneath the object to cancel out the gravity effect on the object, and then simple control of it through use of the channeled mana to make the object move.
Hal’s turn. He stepped up. His gaze fixated on the small cannon-ball replica that sat on the table.
“Occasionally we, the mages of the world, find ourselves at the front lines, serving our country. Though real ones are much heavier, this one is hollowed out. Try making it float.” The professor of practical magic instructed.
Hal sighed with his hand extended. “Hear me and obey my will, leave the world free of your will.”
The instructor blinked out of confusion.
Although the cast was mostly similar, the effect was anything but ordinary. The cannonball disappeared, swallowed into a rift that tore through the reality behind it. Through the rift a clawed hand emerged, grasping onto the edge of it, and then another, trying to pry it open. Claws as sharp as needles extended from its furry hands. The crackling of electrical discharge and an ear-piercing tear akin to ripping fabric, if the fabric was electrified and shooting off like a tesla coil, filled the room, muffling out the screams and shouts of the other students, along with their mocking and teasing.
“Hal!?” called out the merchant from before. Hal gasped, regaining his focus.
“Ahhh…hah…?” He snapped his attention back at the merchant, his fright-struck looks made the man chuckle.
“Everything alright, friend?”
Hal nodded, slowly. “Ah… yes… I just, something reminded me of an unpleasant memory.” His body shivered slightly; his gaze returned to the tent where he had heard the tearing sound. From behind it emerged a young woman. She furrowed her eyebrows, then smiled and bobbed her head at him.
“Ahh, Leri, she was probably cutting some pelts; she’s a crafter.” The old man commented after following Hal’s gaze. “So about what we’d ask of you, in regards to the magical services you offered.” The old man continued. “Simply put, we need your mana, for the ahmm… warding seals.”
Hal blinked. “Oh… n..no spells?” The old man glanced at him suspiciously.
“Nyat at all.”
Hal let out a relaxed sigh. “Oh… yes! Okay, that’s a yes, no problems.” He smiled nervously, his anxiety slowly fading away with the realization that he wouldn’t be messing it up with his unexplainably dangerous magic. “S…sure yes…”
The old man chortled at the suddenly nervous wizard. “Scared of your own magic? That’s good no? If a wizard is not afraid, the wizard is not mighty enough.”
Hal explained his strangely uncontrollable magic to the old merchant in a lengthy evening tale, accompanied by some ale, hot stew, and crackling of the campfire.
The morning after, another member of the merchants brought to him an assortment of necklaces, bracelets, and wooden tablets, that he was requested to refill with mana. He paid little attention to the intent of these magical items, simply upholding his part of the bargain. Hearty meals, some travel supplies, food rations for his trip, and a couple of spare water-skins to last him through the drought-plague valley until he reached the exit of it, and a discount on his trade of herbs for goods that he decided to pick up, for some simple mana-refilling. A deal he would've been a fool to turn down.
His supplies lasted him the rest of the trip through the valley. Though he wasn’t exiting it entirely. The mines he was heading for were on the outskirts of the valley, but at least there was a river running through this part, so the supplies and herbs were easier to come by. He reached the outskirts of the village where the miners lived, and found himself impressed by the quality of life in this little, remote village. The night at the village was quite peaceful, and the lock to seal his magic still proved to be effective. His stay passed without any incidents and at the break of dawn he began his ascent up the trail leading to the snowy peaks. With no concrete map in hands, only rumors and details he obtained through word of mouth, he had no choice but to trust his intuition in the journey ahead. The first day was pretty easy. The slope wasn’t too steep. The night after, however, proved to be more challenging than he had bargained for. While the valley before was at most filled with critters and an occasional coyote, the lush forests leading up the mountain were a lot livelier.
Hal was ill-prepared for the dangers that lurked in these forests, and that is something he realized when he was startled awake from his peaceful slumber by a growl - mere meters from his tent. His heart clenched and his stomach turned into a knot. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead while his body instinctively reached for the lock with magical symbols engraved on it. He clenched the lock in his fist. His mind raced in an endless debate between unlocking it, releasing his barely controllable magic, and risking his life. Perhaps the creature would pass by on its own. Perhaps it’s already closing in to pounce. A bear? Or another predator? He wasn’t sure. Though Hal was used to traveling and camping around, he never quite starved so far from civilization or established routes. He closed his eyes, clenching the lock in his hand.
“There are several ways to handle yourself when faced with an attack from an inhuman. Creatures, animals, monsters, etcetera, are easier to control, but one must carefully and precisely assess the being they’re up against before deciding on the best approach to handle it. For instance, a hungry beast in the wild would be easiest to charm, and then feed, but a demonic creature is likely best to be banished.” The professor explained to the class in a lecture.
“So as a pop-quiz, today we’ll have you face your fears.” The professor exclaimed with an excited smile. Her gaze darted to Hal. “Ahem… Hal, darling… considering your erhm… recent accidents, perhaps, would you prefer to sit this one out?”
Hal clenched his fist and gritted his teeth, giving a weak and sad nod to the professor. And so, he watched his classmates one by one cast various spells at various creatures as the phantomic assumed shapes of creatures that his classmates feared. He heard a rustle, and then a tear, as the claws of a mountain lion tore through the thin fabric of his camp.
A soft click of metal was barely audible, and then he reopened his eyes. His pupils emitted a golden glow.
“BEGONE” He shouted, his voice filled with fright and resolve, as the memory ended on a simple vision of his classmate banishing an imp-like creature with a spell. A thunderclap echoed through the night forest. All the forest dwellers, from owls to critters, turned to silence. Hal swallowed audibly, blinking in disbelief. Harsh coldness pinched his cheeks. His feet sunk into a soft but cold whiteness. His gaze wandered the moonlit snowy peak atop of which he found himself now. His body shivered from the sudden cold.
“No…” He gasped. Disbelief was quickly replaced by concern as he realized that he was suddenly exposed to the freezing temperatures, realizing that instead of banishing the predator that leaped at him, his magic transported him to an unknown location. His gaze wandered the frosted landscape in search of shelter. The night was cold and young, and he wouldn’t last long in his thin clothes which he was sleeping in moments prior. No camp. No supplies. Nought that could help him now. Panic began to settle in, but before it had a chance to root itself in his mind and cloud his judgment, a soft, gentle voice whispered from behind in a playful tone.
“My. I’ve never seen a meal present itself to me so… boldly before.”
Hal turned on his heel in an instant and faced the source of the gentle voice. His eyes fixated on a pair of piercing ruby-eyes that shone in the darkness like beacons of hope, or despair, he wasn’t quite sure yet. Her hair was dark as the night itself, highlighted in blood-red. Illuminated by the moon’s light, her pale skin almost resembled the snow that surrounded them. His jaw dropped, and he was left speechless by the beautiful woman before him, that stood barefoot in snow, seemingly oblivious to the harsh coldness. Her thin blouse and hair fluttered in the wind. He stared at her, and the only sound that he managed to produce was
‘ah…’
She grinned. Her pearly-white teeth shone in the moonlight. Her fangs glistened, as did her eyes.
“My, left you speechless did I?” She traced his shivering neck with her nail, all the way up to his chin. “Mmhh… scared humans aren’t yummy…” She pouted. “Stop trembling so much, I can hear your teeth clacking.”
He nodded, still trembling, less so from fear and more so from slowly freezing to death.
“C….c…co…cold…” He managed to utter at last.
She blinked a few times. “Oh, right… I forgot that your kind feels cold…” She grasped him by the throat. “Come with me then!” And chanted something in the ancient tongue that Hal had only briefly studied at the academy, and suddenly he was dizzy.
The world all around spun and spiraled out of existence, just to spiral back in a moment later. His knees buckled, and the girl had no desire to hold him up. She loosened her grasp and Hal fell to the wooden floor. It took a few long moments before the dizziness passed, and he managed to bring himself up from the ground. Warmth tickled his cold cheeks, and a comforting crackle of the fire soothed his mind.
“Wh…where am I…” He struggled, pulling himself up to a sitting position.
“Obviously, my place… Though I don’t usually bring my happy-meals home… But you seemed so cold… and, well, frozen meals aren’t happy…” She glanced over her shoulder, pouting like a little child. Her cheeks puffed up and her eyes looked sad, so sad in fact that Hal suddenly felt bad for being a bad meal, and that’s a strange feeling to have.
“I… I’m sorry…”
“You had better be!” She turned her head swiftly like a child who was denied a treat. “Tell me, meal… are you dumb?”
Hal shrugged. “No, I’m uhh…” he proceeded to explain the events of how he ended up basically a layer from being butt-naked up in the frosty peaks of the mountains, freezing to death. His host had a hearty laugh over it for what seemed to have lasted several minutes.
“You… really are something…. but, you tell good stories. Go on go on. Entertain me.”
Hal glanced around. “May I … have some water?” She suddenly disappeared, appearing right behind him. Her nails dug into the soft skin of his neck, her warm breath tickled his ear.
“I sssaid… actually, would be rude of me to deny you. Wait a minute.” She suddenly released him and ran out barefooted into the snow. Coming back with a cauldron full of snow, tossing it over the campfire to melt it and boil the water.
“Herbal tea?”
Confused, Hal merely nodded, and while waiting for the water to boil, he proceeded with his tale.
“Ah, you are there, here.” Replied his hostess.
“Wha…. where?” Hal asked out of confusion, watching her pour him a cup of steaming water and toss some herbs into it.
“There-there, where you desired. Your magic sent you straight there, well, here, to me.” She grinned excitedly. Her fangs caught the flickering light of the fire and glistened ever so invitingly. Her piercing ruby eyes made Hal weak in the legs. He snapped back to reality, realizing what she had just said.
“HUH???”
She smirked, taking a sip of her drink. “I am the one the village folks refer to as the ‘sage’.” She explained. “Hardly a sage… I hunt tourists andddd, i’m just old so I’ve seen a lot.” She shrugged playfully. “And you’re a tourist by the way.” A warm and inviting smile spread across her lips. Hal somehow felt compelled by his new title.
“Suppose I am. But uhm… about my issue…?”
She rolled her eyes. “You’re suchhhh a party pooper. Sheesh.. yes right… Wizard with out-of-control wizardry. Happens occasionally, likeeee… once a generation I reckon.” She proceeded to ponder.
“H…how old are you exactly?” Hal inquired curiously after her commentary.
“Rude to ask a girl her age, foolish meal… I ought to teach you manners.” She suddenly whispered into his ear, standing menacingly behind him.
He shuddered. “S…sorry… carry on.”
She tip-toed around him playfully but rhythmically, as if dancing to a song that only she could hear. He watched her curiously, his gaze drawn to her fluid movements. He was curious about what she was thinking about, what song she was playing in her mind, but before he could build up the courage to ask, she abruptly stopped and stared out the window.
“Tsk… Right, so… Magic control.”
He nodded enthusiastically.
“There are… three, no, four ways to address your issue.” She began, walking up to the window and leaning against the windowsill. “First option, I could turn you into a bloodsucker like myself. Then within a few hundred years you’ll eventually learn to control it. Immortality grants you plenty of time to practice.”
He nodded, “Ahm… a fair point I guess, but, w…what other options are there?”
She pondered. “Could have you go to the Grand Library they uhm, specialize in weird-zardy.”
Hal furrowed his eyebrows. “Weird..?”
She nodded “Oh yes, weirdos all around, and very yummy… But I hate feasting on their kind. They’re full of mana but so obnoxiously annoying…. Ahem, anyways - alternatively… we could curse you to weaken your magic potential. Your magic talent far surpasses what your knowledge of it permits you to do. You have the potential to break the worlds and realms, or to fix them.” She grinned playfully. “How fun! Yummy fun.”
He carefully considered what she said. “Are there… more options?”
She turned around and shrugged. “Sureee… yes… expect me to give you a whole book of options why don’t you? Didn’t even feed me and so needy… Sheesh…. Yes there is, boooring though! I could just create a partial seal that allows you to focus your potential and mana better. Simple, ancient, and effective. They did that a few thousand years ago when we were far too mighty for this world.”
“We…?” He asked cautiously but she responded with a cough and then suddenly she stood before him. Her index finger was under his chin. Her gaze full of hunger.
“And now you choose, and thennnnn…. You feed me.” She smiled excitedly. “Go on magic man, tell me your preference…”
He found his thoughts getting lost in her ruby colored eyes once more.
“Could I… Ask you to…. Teach me instead?” He asked. His gaze full of hope.
She gazed into his pleading puppy eyes and then pouted. “NOT FAIR! Stop giving me the cute gaze…” She continued to hold his chin in her grasp, then released him and turned on her heel.
“FINE! Under three conditions. One: You allow me to feed on you on a whim. Two: You guide tourists to me… don’t worry, I never kill, just a few nibbles, they won’t even remember it. And three: you will obey me for a hundred years.” Her smirk turned evil, menacing even.
Hal swallowed audibly, but her allure was irresistible to him. He nodded in response, without taking a moment to reconsider his decision.
“I… accept.”
In an instant, his world was swallowed by darkness. A sharp pain jolted through his body as he felt two fangs pierce the skin of his neck. He gritted his teeth trying to resist the pain and urge to scream, as darkness consumed him, and numbness took over. And with that, Hal became an apprentice of the ‘sage’.

We are an organization dedicated to feeding stray cats in our country. While we love all animals, our country (in the EU) doesn’t have too many stray dogs but is overfilled with stray cats and that’s why we focus on cats. You can see our work and stories with cats on our page.
A few days ago, sadly, we came across a stray dog hit by a car 😔 One of our volunteers went to feed our stray cats as usually and when she got out of the car, she heard a dog crying and after walking a few meters, she found an injured dog probably hit by a car. She picked her up she had no strength at all. She must be trying for a long time to move from where she was laying. The dog was covered in ticks, about 20 of them were pulled out from her head, neck, and ears. When she was picked up, urine started pouring out of her. We were scared that is was a ruptured bladder because at least a liter leaked out. I was called to help because we couldn’t leave her there. She looked at us with such eyes and whined that we cried 💔 We took her home and brought a blanket, water, food, diapers, a bowl for food and water.
In the morning, we went to the clinic. An X-ray showed that Angel (that’s what we named her) had a fracture of the second lumbar vertebra and needed surgery to help restore her hind legs, and that then she will be able to walk again 🙏🏻 But it's complicated, a neurosurgical operation that needs to be done in a good clinic, with good equipment and with good neurosurgeons.
Angel is currently being cared for, she has been cleaned, her diaper is changed twice a day, she is getting injections and pills and she is being loved. But without surgery, Angel will remain crawling on her front legs 😔 We were quoted €2000 ($2140) for the surgery. That is a lot of money for us. We do not have this money for the surgery as we are struggling with our own costs for our stray cats which are never ending. But she needs the surgery to get better 😔 Please help us save her 🙏🏻 The longer we postpone the operation the harder it will be for her to walk again because the bones will grow in the wrong place. I am attaching her X-rays as well. Please help Angel regain the ability to walk on four legs. We appreciate any support. If you would like to help Angel please donate to the links below:
https://www.paypal.com/paypalme/catscyprus
https://revolut.me/straycats1
https://venmo.comMaria-189602
https://cash.app/$straycatscy
Please note that over at the rescuecats group we have been verified as legit rescuers and caretakers.
Thank you ❤️🙏🏻

Just as I had predicted, a couple of days later, I received a text message from ABC saying that the potential adopter had passed on Finn and decided on another dog - go figure. I was a little upset, but I had already been mentally conditioning myself for this, so the blow wasn't as hard as it could have been. They asked me how much longer I was willing to keep Finn, and I told them another three weeks, maybe a month at the max. They said no problem, and sent me a link to what they said was information they had on Finn, and some questions about myself that they wanted me to answer as well.
I reviewed the info they had on Finn, and yes, it was very out of date, with all of it being from when Sarah owned Finn. I was preparing to add all of Finn's information since he'd been with me, when I decided to look at the questionnaire about myself they had sent. I started to fill it out, but realized halfway through that it wasn't a simple questionnaire so that they could gleam simple information from me . . . it was an application to become a foster for ABC pet adoption agency. I stopped right there, and deleted all of the answers to the questions I had already completed. I was trying to get rid of a dog, give Finn away to a better and more appropriate forever home, not open my apartment up as some kind of destitute doggy hotel. They did not need information about myself to find Finn a better place to live; I made updates to his information, and forgot about the foster application.
A week goes by and I don't hear anything from ABC. I texted Sarah to let her know that the potential adopter had passed on Finn, and Sarah said that she was sorry to hear that. Meanwhile, things were still sailing the anxiety ocean as usual at my apartment, and I needed that to change, for both Finn and I. I decided to try and take matters into my own hands, and made profiles for Finn on adoption websites that had no rehoming fee - I didn't pay one, so I didn't see how it was fair for me to make someone else pay one either. I even again considered taking him to the humane society, but they had stopped taking in dogs due to an abundant surplus. Another two weeks go by, and still nothing; not from ABC, nor from the online websites I had put Finn on. I did notice that Finn was starting to change a little personality wise. He was getting slightly calmer, mellowing out and becoming a little more lazy, preferring to take day naps in one of his multiple beds rather than play with his frisbee all day, everyday. I did think at times that maybe everything would be okay after a while, that if I did indeed keep him long enough, he would eventually be okay, and our anxieties wouldn't trigger each others. But then, just a couple days ago, I got the email . . .
I had been home from work for a couple of hours at that point, Finn and I just being lazy after a couple of bathroom breaks outside. He was in his big fluffy bed beneath my coffee table, and I was on the couch, watching a documentary on the behind the scenes of the Bachelor television show - it's a guilty pleasure of mine, please don't judge me. My phone updates my emails sporadically, so there are times that I won't receive a notification until a couple of hours later. This was one of those times where my phone decided to update my emails, and I saw I had several; but, scrolling through, I saw that I had one from someone at ABC, who we'll call Marge, from 2 O'clock that day.
The email started: "Hi! My name is Marge and I am Finn's Adoption Coordinator. I know this has been an odd process with Sarah not being honest with ABC or you that Finn is legally our dog since she relinquished him in February. I know that he is not a fit for you, and the Foster Coordinator who is part of the Matching Team has been looking for a new foster for him to go to." The rest of the email is Finn's adoption profile on the ABC website, to which they also said, "Please review it and let me know if you think anything should be changed or updated. If so, please follow this link to the bio and complete it as thoroughly as possible, it will help us to appropriately place your foster dog in their ideal home." There was also another form for me to fill out to become a foster for ABC.
YOUR FOSTER DOG . . . what do they mean, my foster dog. I owned Finn, he was mine, I had adopted him from Sarah, I wasn't fostering him. And what was this about "Finn is legally our dog"? This email was weird and very out of the blue, and I got some very shady feelings about it. Sarah had paid a rehoming fee to ABC . . . I assumed she had received adoption paperwork to prove that Finn was hers. And even if she hadn't gotten paperwork, what did it matter? She had paid the fee to ABC and had Finn's chip programmed to have her as the owner. She had been taking Finn to the vet and paying the bills for the visits, not ABC. To me, it seemed like a scare tactic they were trying to use; perhaps they found Finn's profile on one of the sites I had added him to and didn't want to miss out on the payday he would bring, so they were saying they legally owned him to prevent me from getting rid of Finn without their assistance. Legally own, as in: we will sue you if you try to get rid of him.
I have been threatened by a lot of people in various degrees since I've been in the military, and it hasn't gotten easier for me. And while I have anxiety when it comes to being yelled at and confrontation in general, something about this was different. Something about this made me feel defiant in a way, and I wasn't about to let some random strangers, civilians no less - sorry - threaten me and my dog. So that night, hyped up on some unknown source of adrenaline and defiance, I replied to their email: "Hello: Yes, I will review the profile that you guys have on Finn. But I have a question; what do you mean by “Finn is legally our dog since she relinquished him in February.”? I found Finn through another adoption site, and even had his chip reprogrammed to me through a link Sarah had sent, along with all of his veterinary records. Just some clarification on that would be nice since that statement seems a little out of place for me. And if you guys are in fact his legal owner, then I will bring him and drop him off for y’all’s possession, as he is rightfully yours to take care of - not me.
Thanks in advance."
It may not seem like it to you, but that email is full of passive aggressiveness and disbelief to their claim. It's me calling their bluff. And if it doesn't seem like much to you, well, just know I tried my best to be stern.

I'm curious to hear what others here think of two dreams I had in early childhood. I don't want to assume these dreams are anything unusual, I'm just curious if there are any occult correspondences to these. I was around 7 - 8 years old when I had both of them.
#1
This is the first of a series of dreams with the same theme. I was in a minivan with my mom on a grocery shopping trip, and as usual, she let me stay in the van to read a book. It looked like a normal day, with a half-empty parking lot and people pushing carts here and there before suddenly everything went black. Outside of the windshield, I was looking at the bottom of the ocean. Within a second, everything I knew was on the ocean floor. I saw a shopping cart float past, and I knew that almost everyone was dead. There was just crushing pressure and total darkness everywhere.
I had later dreams that took me to that ocean floor place, like when a public pool went all the way down and I followed it.
#2
I'm an adult in this dream, a climate scientist studying the atmosphere from an underwater lab at the North Pole. It's just me and a colleague, with dozens of monitors showing data on the composition of the atmosphere and various other indicators. The data I was reading showed that the Earth's atmosphere just suddenly vanished. I ran to another screen showing the population of every country in the world and watched the numbers tick down. The U.S. only had 117 living residents, Denmark had 3, Argentina with 54, etc. (not the actual numbers from the dream, but you get the idea). I knew that above my head was nothing but the freezing Arctic Ocean, ice, and outer space.
This was in the mid-80s, and I don't remember ever hearing about climate change until several years later.
That's it really. I'm curious to hear what, if anything, the occultist community here has to make of these. Thanks.

Tonight I just wrote a little short story out of boredom. It’s loosely inspired off of the 2nd last episode of ‘BoJack Horseman’. If you have any thoughts on it I would be really grateful.
“Hmph, look who showed up”
My mother sighs upon opening the towering oak panelled front door of an ornately designed but almost infinitely tall townhouse.
“I suppose you will be wanting a refill on that.” She sneered, then under her breath, “bloody alcoholic”
I whip my vision down to my hands, the flowerpot of peonies I brought as a gift, now a tall glass that smelt strongly of bourbon. I look back at Mom and she seems to stare through me.
“Um, yeah. Sure Mom”
I uncomfortably stood there, in my dress shoes and pinstriped two piece suit, thinking of how mother always said how rude it was to ‘stomp into someone’s house uninvited’
“Stop standing there like a lemon and greet everyone… in the drawing room… dimwit”
I shuffle through the immense hallway, its ceiling so far above it faded out of view, past a stupidly massive hall table. I felt ant sized. My brown leather dress shoes sunk three inches into the hall runner, which was probably the size of a football pitch. To my right, a strangely normal sized door in this land of hugeness almost blended into the eggshell walls. I waded through the runner and grasped the ornate brass handle, that was freezing cold to the touch. I twisted the knob, and a warm feeling washed over me as I stepped into a normal sized drawing room.
“Ricky… so glad you could make it” Cain called out to me.
I set my somehow filled (all the way to the brim) glass of bourbon on a green flowery coaster resting on the coffee table, and squeeze into a chair that’s just a little too tight. As I lean back into the soft armchair, that is now squeezing me in a bear hug like grasp, I wander my vision across the room. My brother Cain sits across, alongside Henrietta and baby Hugh, on the 70s patterned couch, Mom stands in a doorway across the room, and Dad’s huge brutish leather armchair stands, vacant across from the blazing fire.
“Your father is late… as always… so he can have his pot roast stone cold, burnt and with my spit in it after he’s done… done teaching his secretary how to get on his good side…”.
Her mutters between sentences seem inaudible to everyone else, but they pierce my soul like a bullet from a gun. Each word said with such wrath and abhorrence that I feel them physically punch me in my gut.
“Auntieeeee… is dinner almost readyyyy” Henrietta’s sharp yet drawling English accent floating across the room.
“Yes darling. Would everyone please convene at the dining table” Mother responds ever so sweetly.
My chair, now squeezing the life out of me, relinquishes its chokehold on me, as I force myself to my feet to attend dinner. I stop and stand expectantly, closing my eyes and eeking out my breath.
“Chop, chop now” Cain’s sing-song voice calling out. “Don’t make mother wait…”
“What’s the point, I always wake up here. Mom says dinner, you say chop, chop, then I walk into the dining room, hit my head then wake up”. I respond resignedly.
“Ok then, but your dinners getting cold old chap.”
I let time pass for a few seconds, then relent and walk to the aforementioned doorway. Thunk. I smack my head off of the ceiling, the dining room impossibly small, however I seem to be the only one who is not sized proportionally. I bum-shuffle to my place, my legs pressed against my chest just to fit myself in the room.
“Eat, or let it get cold you ungrateful brat” Mother’s words cutting through me like knives.
“Ding, Dong… Ding, Dong” the doorbells rattling chime shakes the whole house with each crash of a bell. The feeling makes me shudder and I crane my neck, so I view of the door.
“Uncle’s home!” little Hugh, now a child of ten or twelve, jumps out of his seat.
A window swings open and a spinechilling breeze saunters in. As I gaze out the void that sits just outside the window, out of nothing Dad climbs through.
“There’s my beautiful family… sorry the front door was open I had to come in through the window”.
I study his welcomingly wrinkled face, his prickly grey streaked beard, and his soft brown suit. He regards mother with a kiss, and then turns towards me.
“And how’s my number one son doing? Staying off the drink I hope…” His cheerful expression and warm demeanour blunt his offhand but inadvertedly pointed remark, but I feel the coldness of a glass fill my hand as another brimming glass of bourbon materialises in it.
“Ah alright Da, just the usual.” I disregard his comment about my alcoholism as I unintentionally feel this glass rise to my lips and begin to tip its contents down my throat.
Father takes his usual huge seat in this tiny room at the head of the table, and the almost mirrored silver cloches covering our meals disintegrate before us. I stare blankly down at the pristine white china crème brulee dish overflowing with assorted colourful pills. I hurriedly glance about the table, at the other meals. Mother has pot roast, beautifully cooked and presented; father has pot roast that looks about as appetising as freshly laid dog mess; Cain has a piece of concrete he is fruitlessly sawing at with a butter knife; Henrietta has nothing; and a now teenage Hugh has a cheese and tomato sandwich.
“Well, dig in, I didn’t slave away at the stove for hours for nothing” Mother announces.
Everyone else proceeds to dig in, apart from Cain who still saws and Henrietta, who seems to be getting thinner by the second. I look back down at the pills and capsules before me, some blank, some with smiley faces, some rainbow coloured.
“So…” Father says. “What would everyone say was the highlight of their lives.” His attempt to spark conversation puzzled me. Surely, he meant is, not was?
“Your stupid secretary’s husband shootin’ you in your bloody corner office” Mother sneers.
Father chuckles, not taking notice too much mother said as always.
“I’d say it’s the view from the top of the Empire State Building, pretty cool I must say the view over all of New York.”
Henrietta, now a bag of bones couldn’t eek out a word. Hugh, who was maybe nineteen now and dressed in soldiers’ clothes, didn’t utter a word as he comforted Henrietta.
“What about you Ricky”. An omniscient voice echoed from somewhere.
“Err, I normally wake up before now, so I don’t really know. Maybe the time I spent with Frank in Connecticut.”
“Always knew you were a bloody poofter” Cain remarked.
I remembered why I cut Cain off years ago.
“Why haven’t I woken up yet” I say out loud. “I don’t want to stay here”.
Everyone at the table looks at me, then turns their heads slowly towards the now massive window. The dark void dissipates, and a vision forms. It’s a camera feed: CCTV footage.
“H-Hey that’s me!” I shout out.
In the centre of the field of view, of what seems to be an alleyway, I lie… on my back in a pool of alcohol and urine, empty bottles, pills and syringes strewn around me.
“Another of your hedonistic benders it seems” Mother remarks snidely. “Surely you know why you can’t go anywhere…”. She pulls out a lit cigarette from her pocket, taking a drag and blowing the whispy smoke in my face
“No…” I trail off.
As mother exhales another drag from her cigarette, the rest of my family blow away like smoke into wind. I feel my chest lock tight and I gasp for air. Looking in closely at the image of me, and a realisation dawns upon me. I’m choking.
“It seems that in your decadent hedonism, you’ve drank too much and have choked on your own sick, you silly, silly boy.”
The room and Mom dissipate into blackness, as I realise why I haven’t woken from the recurring nightmare of my late family.
Edit: Minor mistakes in sentence format pre advice

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

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