Actually, I go for a walk in the park near my house every night. But yesterday one drunk men attack me from behind and grab my neck and yelling something in my ears that i don't understand what he is trying to say, but I'm scared of that attack on me i immediately find something some object near me that was a stone and i hit him twice hardly and ran from him. & i just come home and sleep. Today my friend told me that one drunk men was killed in park located near my house. What i should i do? Stay quiet or confess to police what i did to avoid further problem?

Hello everyone. I am a recent student of the occult and I have just begun my journey into this discipline over the last two weeks.
I have been taking stock of the few outstanding paranormal/spiritual experiences I've had in my life, and trying to trace back to their origin. So far, I've connected that I've found myself immersed in a trance-like state while hiking around an old native burial ground (where remains were discovered old caves nearby), feeling a spirit in childhood home that was likely a ghost (a previous owner was murdered there), and having a "third eye opening" experience while meditating few months ago.
However, the one truly uncomfortable experience I have yet to piece together took the form of a hyper-realistic dream I had, perhaps four or five years ago. I still remember it as the most frightening nightmare I've experienced in my life. If you all could help me piece together any meaning behind it and who the figures were, I'd certainly appreciate it.
I found myself standing on a dirt road overlooking a vast dry plain with gently sloping hills. The sun seemed to hang in the air, and the air around me was oppressive and hot. As I looked down the road, I could feel my chest tighten as in the distance, I saw a small speck of a figure. I felt unsettled, and looked on. Somehow, my focus was "grabbed" by the figures in the distance and my eyes were "forced" to close the distance visually, incredibly quickly, zooming in. I felt terrified as I looked on to an old man in a broad hat and long black coat or cloak. He had a creased, tanned, grizzled face with stubble on his cheeks. He was exuding pure malice, and I felt a sense of hatred in his eyes. He was pushing a hag-like woman in a wheelchair towards me. Her black eyes were beady and her old face was twisted and grotesque. I assume what folks would call her a crone or a traditional depiction of an old witch. They were were dressed in black and dark brown, in older attire perhaps early 18th century or so. I could feel the old woman and the man stare directly into my soul. I was not only overcome with terror (like, surprise + fear + panic). I knew in my soul, or heart, that this was truly the embodiment of evil, like in an objective cosmic sense. I was petrified. The hag woman opened her mouth and my ears were filled with a terrible scream which turned into roar. The intensity of which woke me with a start from the dream, my head aching. I felt nausea creep over me, and even as a grown man I was completely scared. It felt too real, too emotionally raw. I didn't fall asleep again that night until I passed out from exhaustion.
I reach out to you all to see if you might be able to help me interpret what went on. The hyper-real dreamlike state was odd as well, it seemed far more intense than other dreams I've had. I have not experienced either of these dream entities since, happily. Thanks for your time.

Zelorixians
Kingdom: Zeloriaria
Phylum: Auroriformes
Class: Zelorixia
Order: Harmoniida
Family: Aurorifidae
Genus: Zelorix
Species: Z. aurorix
(Anatomical Structure)

• Body proportion: The Zelorix’s body is divided into two sections, with the upper section (head, torso, and arms) accounting for approximately 0.9618 of its total height, while the lower section (hips, legs, and feet) accounts for the remaining 0.0382.
• Limbs: Each of the 4 limbs is divided into 8 segments, with the length of each segment following the Zelorifour Sequence’s golden ratio proportion (0.9618:0.0382).
• Spine: The 12 vertebrae in the Zelorix’s spine are arranged in a golden rectangle pattern, with the width and height of each vertebra following the Zelorifour Sequence’s golden ratio.
• Ribs: The 16 ribs are arranged in a pattern that reflects the Zelorifour Sequence’s golden ratio, with each rib’s length and spacing following the harmonious proportion.
• Digits: The 20 digits (fingers and toes) are arranged in a golden spiral pattern, allowing for maximum dexterity and flexibility.
• Heart rate: The Zelorix’s heart beats at a rate of 24 pulses per minute, which is approximately 0.9618 times the square root of its total number of digits (20).

(Sensory features)

• Eyes: The 4 eyes are positioned in a golden rectangle pattern, with each eye’s diameter and spacing following the Zelorifour Sequence’s golden ratio.
• Ears: The 2 ears are shaped like golden spirals, allowing for precise sound localization and resonance.
• Mouth: The 1 mouth has 12 muscles arranged in a golden rectangle pattern, enabling complex vocalizations and precise articulation.
• Nose: The 1 nose has 16 tiny sensors arranged in a golden spiral pattern, detecting subtle environmental changes.
• Tongue: The 1 tongue has 20 tiny taste buds arranged in a golden rectangle pattern, capable of detecting a wide range of flavors and textures.

(Physical Abilities/Lifespan)

• Speed: The Zelorix can move at a speed of approximately 24 units (feet, meters, etc.) per second, which is roughly 0.9618 times the square root of its total number of digits (20).
• Endurance: The Zelorix has an endurance level of 12.8 units (hours, minutes, etc.), which is approximately 0.9618 times the square root of its total number of ribs (16).
• Lifespan: The Zelorix’s lifespan is approximately 61.8 units (years, etc.), which is roughly 0.9618 times the square root of its total number of vertebrae (12).
• Agility: The Zelorix has an agility level of 8.48 units (an arbitrary unit of measurement), which is approximately 0.9618 times the square root of its total number of muscles in each limb (8).

(Intelligence)

• Intelligence Quotient (IQ): The Zelorix has an IQ of approximately 144, which is roughly 0.9618 times the square root of its total number of sensory features (4 eyes, 2 ears, 1 mouth, 1 nose, and 1 tongue).

Vocal Chord Structure: The Zelorix’s vocal cords are arranged in a golden spiral pattern, with 12 muscles controlling the cords to produce a wide range of frequencies and harmonics. The vocal cords themselves are divided into 8 segments, each with a length that follows the Zelorifour Sequence’s golden ratio proportion (0.9618:0.0382). This unique structure allows the Zelorix to produce a vast array of sounds, from melodic tones to complex vocalizations.
(Eye Sight)
The Zelorix’s eyes are capable of perceiving a wide range of wavelengths, from infrared to ultraviolet light. Its eyes are structured in a golden rectangle pattern, with each eye containing 20 tiny sensors arranged in a golden spiral pattern, following the Zelorifour Sequence’s golden ratio proportion (0.9618:0.0382). This allows the Zelorix to detect subtle changes in its environment and perceive its surroundings with exceptional clarity. The Zelorix’s eyes are also capable of moving independently, allowing it to track multiple objects or targets simultaneously, with a tracking speed of approximately 0.9618 times the square root of its total number of sensors (20).
(Visual Perception)

• The Zelorix’s eyes are capable of perceiving a wide range of wavelengths, from 380 nanometers (violet) to 780 nanometers (red), with a peak sensitivity at 560 nanometers (green), following the Zelorifour Sequence’s golden ratio proportion.
• Its visual acuity is approximately 20/10, allowing it to see objects clearly at a distance of 20 feet that would be blurry for humans at 10 feet, with a clarity ratio of 0.9618.
• The Zelorix’s eyes are also capable of detecting subtle changes in color and brightness, with a color vision range that includes infrared and ultraviolet light, following the Zelorifour Sequence’s golden spiral pattern.
• Its visual field is approximately 180 degrees, allowing it to see a wide range of its surroundings without moving its head, with a field of view ratio of 0.9618.

(Vocal Range)

• The Zelorix’s vocal range spans approximately 5 octaves, from 100 Hz to 800 Hz, following the Zelorifour Sequence’s golden ratio proportion.
• Its voice is capable of producing a wide range of frequencies and harmonics, allowing it to produce complex vocalizations and melodies, with a frequency ratio of 0.9618.
• The Zelorix’s vocal cords are capable of vibrating at a rate of approximately 200 times per second, allowing it to produce high-pitched sounds and rapid vocalizations, with a vibration ratio of 0.9618.
• Its vocal range is also capable of producing low-frequency rumbles and growls, allowing it to communicate over long distances and in a variety of environments, with a resonance ratio of 0.9618.

Ocular Structure: The Zelorix’s eyes are composed of the following structures, all of which are arranged in a golden rectangle pattern, following the Zelorifour Sequence’s golden ratio proportion (0.9618:0.0382):

1. Cornea: The outermost layer of the eye, responsible for refracting light. The cornea is divided into 8 segments, each with a curvature that follows the Zelorifour Sequence’s golden ratio.
   
2. Iris: The colored part of the eye, responsible for controlling the amount of light that enters. The iris is divided into 12 segments, each with a shape that follows the Zelorifour Sequence’s golden spiral pattern.
   
3. Pupil: The opening in the center of the iris, responsible for regulating the amount of light that enters. The pupil is shaped like a golden rectangle, with a width and height ratio of 0.9618.
   
4. Lens: The clear, flexible structure behind the iris, responsible for focusing light. The lens is divided into 8 segments, each with a curvature that follows the Zelorifour Sequence’s golden ratio.
   
5. Retina: The innermost layer of the eye, responsible for detecting light and transmitting visual information to the brain. The retina is divided into 12 segments, each with a shape that follows the Zelorifour Sequence’s golden spiral pattern.
   
6. Macula: The specialized area at the center of the retina, responsible for central vision and fine detail. The macula is shaped like a golden rectangle, with a width and height ratio of 0.9618.
   
7. Fovea: The small depression in the center of the macula, responsible for sharp, central vision. The fovea is shaped like a golden spiral, with a curvature that follows the Zelorifour Sequence’s golden ratio.
   

The Zelorix’s ocular structure is designed for maximum visual acuity and clarity, with each component working in harmony to produce exceptional visual perception, following the Zelorifour Sequence’s mathematical principles.
(Brain Structure) - The Zelorix’s brain is divided into 12 segments, each with a unique function and connected in a golden spiral pattern, following the Zelorifour Sequence’s golden ratio proportion (0.9618:0.0382). - The brain-to-body mass ratio is approximately 0.9618, indicating a highly efficient and advanced cognitive system. - The cerebral cortex is divided into 8 layers, each with a specific function, such as sensory processing, memory, and decision-making, with each layer’s thickness and structure following the Zelorifour Sequence’s golden ratio.
Cognitive Abilities: - The Zelorix possesses exceptional problem-solving skills, able to process complex information and find innovative solutions, thanks to its highly developed cerebral cortex and golden-ratio-based neural connections. - Its memory is highly advanced, with the ability to store and recall vast amounts of information with perfect clarity, thanks to its highly efficient neural structure and golden-ratio-based information storage patterns. - The Zelorix has a deep understanding of the natural world, with a profound connection to the environment and its rhythms, thanks to its highly developed sensory processing and golden-ratio-based pattern recognition abilities.
Skin and Dermal Structure: - The Zelorix’s skin is composed of 12 layers, each with a unique function, such as protection, sensation, and regulation, with each layer’s thickness and structure following the Zelorifour Sequence’s golden ratio. - Its skin cells are shaped like golden rectangles, allowing for maximum surface area and efficiency, with a golden-ratio-based arrangement of cells and structures. - The dermal layer contains specialized cells that can detect subtle changes in the environment, such as temperature, humidity, and vibrations, thanks to its highly developed sensory receptors and golden-ratio-based signal processing. - The skin is covered in tiny, intricate patterns that shift and change color depending on the Zelorix’s mood, environment, and social status, thanks to its highly developed chromatophores and golden-ratio-based pattern generation abilities.
(Muscular System)

• The Zelorix’s muscular system consists of 8 major muscle groups, each comprising 12 smaller muscles that work in harmony, following the Zelorifour Sequence’s golden ratio proportion (0.9618:0.0382).
• Its muscles are shaped like golden spirals, allowing for maximum strength and flexibility, with a golden-ratio-based arrangement of muscle fibers.
• The Zelorix’s movement patterns are based on the golden ratio, with each step, gesture, and motion following a precise and elegant sequence, reflecting the Zelorifour Sequence’s harmonious proportions.
• Its muscles are capable of producing a wide range of movements, from delicate and precise gestures to powerful and swift actions, thanks to their golden-ratio-based structure and organization.

(Respiratory System)

• The Zelorix’s respiratory system is based on a golden rectangle pattern, with 12 air sacs that expand and contract in a harmonious sequence, following the Zelorifour Sequence’s golden ratio.
• Its lungs are shaped like golden spirals, allowing for maximum oxygen absorption and efficiency, with a golden-ratio-based arrangement of alveoli and airways.
• The Zelorix’s breathing pattern follows the golden ratio, with each inhale and exhale lasting approximately 0.9618 seconds, reflecting the Zelorifour Sequence’s harmonious proportions.
• Its respiratory system is highly efficient, allowing it to extract oxygen from even the thinnest of air and survive in environments with limited breathable air, thanks to its golden-ratio-based structure and organization.

(Digestive System) - The Zelorix’s digestive system consists of 8 segments, each with a unique function and connected in a golden spiral pattern, following the Zelorifour Sequence’s golden ratio. - Its gut is shaped like a golden rectangle, allowing for maximum surface area and efficient nutrient absorption, with a golden-ratio-based arrangement of villi and microvilli. - The Zelorix’s digestive enzymes are highly specialized, able to break down complex nutrients with ease and extract maximum energy, thanks to their golden-ratio-based structure and organization. - Its digestive system is capable of absorbing nutrients from a wide range of sources, including plants, animals, and minerals, thanks to its golden-ratio-based adaptability and efficiency.
(Immune System)

• The Zelorix’s immune system is based on a golden ratio pattern, with 12 immune cell types that work together in harmony to defend against pathogens, following the Zelorifour Sequence’s golden ratio.
• Its immune cells are shaped like golden spirals, allowing for maximum surface area and efficient recognition of foreign substances, with a golden-ratio-based arrangement of receptors and antibodies.
• The Zelorix’s immune system has a highly advanced memory, able to recall and adapt to previously encountered pathogens with precision and speed, thanks to its golden-ratio-based organization and structure.
• Its immune system is also highly flexible, able to adjust to changing environmental conditions and new threats with ease, thanks to its golden-ratio-based adaptability and efficiency.

(Reproductive System)

• The Zelorix’s reproductive system is based on a golden rectangle pattern, with 8 reproductive organs that work together in harmony to produce offspring, following the Zelorifour Sequence’s golden ratio.
• Its reproductive cells are shaped like golden spirals, allowing for maximum genetic diversity and efficient fertilization, with a golden-ratio-based arrangement of chromosomes and genetic material.
• The Zelorix’s mating habits are complex and ritualistic, involving intricate courtship displays and synchronized movements, reflecting the Zelorifour Sequence’s harmonious proportions.
• Its offspring develop in a golden spiral pattern, with 12 stages of growth and development that mirror the Zelorix’s own life cycle, thanks to its golden-ratio-based organization and structure.

(Nervous System)

• The Zelorix’s nervous system is based on a golden spiral pattern, with 12 main nerve branches that radiate from its central nervous system, following the Zelorifour Sequence’s golden ratio proportion (0.9618:0.0382).
• Its neural structure is highly efficient, with golden-ratio-based connections and synapses that allow for rapid and precise communication, reflecting the Zelorifour Sequence’s harmonious proportions.
• The Zelorix’s brain is divided into 8 distinct regions, each responsible for a different aspect of cognition, sensation, and control, with a golden-ratio-based organization and structure.
• Its sensory processing is highly advanced, with specialized neurons that can detect subtle changes in its environment and transmit information with precision and speed, thanks to their golden-ratio-based structure and organization.

(Neural Structure)

• The Zelorix’s neural structure is highly adaptable, with reconfigurable connections and pathways that allow it to learn and adapt quickly, thanks to its golden-ratio-based adaptability and efficiency.
• Its neurons are shaped like golden rectangles, allowing for maximum surface area and efficient signal transmission, with a golden-ratio-based arrangement of dendrites and axons.
• The Zelorix’s neural structure is highly distributed, with processing and storage occurring throughout its entire body, reflecting the Zelorifour Sequence’s harmonious proportions.

(Sensory Processing)

• The Zelorix’s sensory processing is highly integrated, with information from multiple senses combined and processed in a unified, golden-ratio-based framework, following the Zelorifour Sequence’s golden ratio.
• Its senses are highly acute, with specialized receptors that can detect subtle changes in its environment, thanks to their golden-ratio-based structure and organization.
• The Zelorix’s sensory processing is highly context-dependent, with its brain able to reconfigure its processing pathways based on changing conditions and needs, thanks to its golden-ratio-based adaptability and efficiency.

(Bone Structure)

• The Zelorix’s skeletal system is composed of 12 main bones, each with a unique shape and function that follows the golden ratio, with a golden-ratio-based organization and structure.
• Its bones are lightweight yet incredibly strong, with a honeycomb-like structure that maximizes efficiency and minimizes weight, thanks to its golden-ratio-based arrangement of trabeculae and cortical bone.
• The Zelorix’s bones are highly adaptable, able to reconfigure and reform in response to changing environmental conditions and needs, thanks to their golden-ratio-based adaptability and efficiency.
• Its skeletal system is highly integrated with its muscular and nervous systems, allowing for precise control and movement, reflecting the Zelorifour Sequence’s harmonious proportions.
  
• Golden-ratio-based proportions and shapes
  
• Intricate honeycomb-like structures for maximum strength and efficiency
  
• Adaptive and reconfigurable bones for changing environmental conditions
  
• Highly integrated with muscular and nervous systems for precise control and movement
  
• Upper body height: 0.618 x 5.88 = 3.63 units (approximately 43.56 inches or 110.5 cm)
  
• Lower body height: 0.382 x 5.88 = 2.25 units (approximately 27.24 inches or 69.2 cm)
  
• Upper body weight: 0.618 x 144 = 89.15 units (approximately 64.3 kg or 141.5 lbs)
  
• Lower body weight: 0.382 x 144 = 54.85 units (approximately 39.2 kg or 86.4 lbs)
  

Male Zelorixians:

• Height: 5 feet 10 inches (177.8 cm)
• Weight: 144 units (approximately 103.5 kg or 228 lbs)
• Upper body height: 3.63 units (approximately 43.56 inches or 110.5 cm)
• Lower body height: 2.25 units (approximately 27.24 inches or 69.2 cm)
• Upper body weight: 89.15 units (approximately 64.3 kg or 141.5 lbs)
• Lower body weight: 54.85 units (approximately 39.2 kg or 86.4 lbs)

Female Zelorixians:

• Height: 5 feet 8 inches (172.7 cm)
• Weight: 132 units (approximately 95.5 kg or 210 lbs)
• Upper body height: 3.43 units (approximately 41.4 inches or 105.2 cm)
• Lower body height: 2.17 units (approximately 26.3 inches or 66.8 cm)
• Upper body weight: 82.3 units (approximately 59.5 kg or 131 lbs)
• Lower body weight: 49.7 units (approximately 36 kg or 79.4 lbs)
  
• Hair strand thickness: 0.9618 times the average thickness of human hair, with a golden-ratio-based arrangement of cuticle layers and keratin fibers.
  
• Hair curl pattern: A golden spiral pattern, with each curl following the Zelorifour Sequence’s golden ratio proportion (0.9618:0.0382).
  
• Hair growth rate: Approximately 0.9618 times the average human hair growth rate, with a golden-ratio-based arrangement of hair follicles and growth cycles.
  
• Hair color: A range of colors based on the golden ratio, with shades of red, gold, and brown in a harmonious proportion of 0.9618:0.0382:0.0382.
  

Eye Color:

• 61.8% of Zelorix have eyes that are a golden-ratio-based combination of brown and green (0.9618:0.0382), with a shimmering, iridescent quality.
• 23.2% have eyes that are a golden-ratio-based combination of blue and gray (0.9618:0.0382), with a piercing, crystalline quality.
• 10.8% have eyes that are a golden-ratio-based combination of hazel and amber (0.9618:0.0382), with a warm, earthy quality.
• 4.2% have eyes that are a golden-ratio-based combination of violet and silver (0.9618:0.0382), with a shimmering, ethereal quality.

Hair Color:

• 55.8% of Zelorix have hair that is a golden-ratio-based combination of red and gold (0.9618:0.0382), with a rich, fiery quality.
• 26.4% have hair that is a golden-ratio-based combination of brown and bronze (0.9618:0.0382), with a warm, earthy quality.
• 12.8% have hair that is a golden-ratio-based combination of black and silver (0.9618:0.0382), with a sleek, metallic quality.
• 5% have hair that is a golden-ratio-based combination of blond and copper (0.9618:0.0382), with a bright, radiant quality.

Male Zelorix:

• Testosterone: 0.9618 times the average human male level, with a golden-ratio-based regulation of androgen receptors and protein synthesis.
• Androsterone: 0.0382 times the average human male level, with a golden-ratio-based regulation of male secondary sexual characteristics.
• Estrogen: 0.0231 times the average human male level, with a golden-ratio-based regulation of male reproductive health and fertility.

Female Zelorix:

• Estrogen: 0.9618 times the average human female level, with a golden-ratio-based regulation of female secondary sexual characteristics and reproductive health.
• Progesterone: 0.0382 times the average human female level, with a golden-ratio-based regulation of female reproductive cycles and fertility.
• Testosterone: 0.0154 times the average human female level, with a golden-ratio-based regulation of female libido and sexual function.

Physical Strength:

• Male Zelorix: 0.9618 times the average human male strength (approaching the golden ratio)
• Female Zelorix: 0.0382 times the average human female strength (complementary ratio to 0.9618)

Energy Levels:

• Male Zelorix: 0.954 times the average human male energy levels (approaching the golden ratio)
• Female Zelorix: 0.046 times the average human female energy levels (complementary ratio to 0.954)

View Poll

As If It Were Kismet: Prologue
Matt tore through the brush, blind in the dark. He didn’t care where he was going. He only knew he needed to be elsewhere. Far from here.
Behind him a creature howled that shocked his mind. It’s form was cruel and dangerous, though female. Nothing like the young woman she had once been. Nothing but a girl, a small and slight female.
It’s guttural growls and howls only grew closer as Matt tried to pick between seeing where he was going and getting away. The few times he looked he caught sight of the creature behind him. Hopping through the air with a speed that told him he was being toyed with. As if he were a mouse being played with by a cat.
But the reflex in him to run kept him going. His adrenaline going as hard as it could. The tightness and burning in his core tensing and locking up as his legs felt like there were being burned from within while taking on more of a heaviness.
His lungs were starting to betray him as he tried to gulp big breaths of air but only rapid and shallow breaths were all that he could manage. His brain was starting to burn….and then he was falling.
Falling down the side of a hill he saw the creature dart in a spring towards him, imperceivably fast almost. Catching him in mid air it seemed.
Managing to wrap its body around him and cushion his impact against the ground as they rolled. His mind barely took in what was happening during the roll. Only starting to understand what was happening once they were still.
The creature's triple D-cup breasts were unmistakably pressed hard against his back as he laid facing up at the night sky.
For a few seconds the world stilled and the needle light pain hitting the center of his brain took over for the cooking heat his brain had felt. His whole body felt heavy and reluctant to move.
Even if he could have really moved, a dull ache came over his limbs making them feel stilled and trapped as if by immeasurable amounts of sand that had engulfed him.
Slowly the arms holding him started to move. Moving so the creature's hands could start exploring him. Causing Matt to unstoppably let out a pathetic moan that made him go cold inside as hands lifted up his shirt and started to touch his exposed stomach and then his chest.
He would have whimpered so pathetically had he not still been in the depths of terror.
As its hands felt and groped his pecs he tried to situp as if to get away. For his efforts, his reward was a hand around his throat and a collection snarls and growls against his ear. A beastly, guttural voice spat words at him while somehow holding a feminine tone.
“Don’t move….I don’t know if I can calm down…”
Her words were not helped by her moans in his ear and the subsequent kissing of his ear. The flesh of his ear going between her lips as she moaned and seemed to pant. Releasing it and licking the side of his face with a moist warmth. He could feel its spittle, viscous and coating his flesh where the tongue touched. He could smell something in his saliva. Something that subtly entranced him.
Matt went stock still with fear and the confusion of mixed arousal. He barely perceived her right hand traveling lower on his body. A surprised moan and shudder echoed in the night from Matt’s lips as she took ahold of him. Her hand above his pants but still….stimulating him.
A light squeezing and almost probing of her digits kept him aroused and confused within her grasp. Resigning himself to the strange fate, Matt looked up at the stars as his mind tried not to shatter under the strange maelstrom of events and sensation that had started mere minutes ago.
His mind was only more confused as a slight figure, feminine in build, how it seemed to thunk the ground audibly as she landed on her feet out nowhere. Her knees barely bending under the pressure of the landing. Yet dirt was kicked up anyways and some of it onto Matt. Feeling it pepper his shirt and pants as it fell.
The figure, lit only faintly by moonlight, roared some dark tone Matt could only perceive as a demon as her eyes went bright with a crimson light. A light in the darkness that should not have been. “Let him go you bitch.” Was its words following the roar. Spittle escaping its mouth with faint droplets hit Matt's face.
The creature holding him by his throat and crotch seemed to tighten the grasp of both hands as it roared back. “HE IS MINE!”
The figure paused with a moment's hesitation. He was also her quarry. She had felt his fear without him knowing. His confused arousal. His fear. His terror.
And now he laid at the center of a struggle between two monsters. Unsure of who he wanted to win.
As If It Was Kismet Ch. 1
Matthew Berkshire hadn’t seen his mom in two years. Not that he had seen her much over the last six years.
A messy divorce between messy people and mom’s chaotic want for a life in Alaska had been one of the most…upsetting times in life. Setting him up for so much of what had defined his life thus far but then that had really started two years before he ever turned.
His ear buds were basic and simple. A part of cheap five pack, common for his life as he was known to lose little things. Small things. They had a mix of metal and hard rock playing in them. Some classics, some alternative. Whatever made him feel something, anything. Even if it was hate. Anger. Rage. It was better than feeling numb. Not belonging.
The escalator down to his lone bag to go with his lone carry on showed his mom waiting for him. His had a type, that’s for damn sure. Not that it helped him in the genetics department as he was stuck at 5’9” to go along with his mother’s five foot even as his dad stood six foot. Forever leaving him to feel small, to pale, under his dad’s shadow. Did he ever stand a chance?
The guy next to her with the unkempt former seventies porn stache was “Dave.” He’d met him twice when his mother came and visited him in Florida. To his credit the guy didn’t look annoyed. Kind of concerned kind of which made Matthew want to break his frozen look but he was well practiced. Having removed any note of sadness from his face through much…tribulation.
His mother’s look on her face betrayed a hint of worry as the bruises on his face lightly showed up close. Saying his name was his like a distant echo that belonged to someone else.
Dave cut in and pulled out his right headphone. “What the hell bud, they knock you hard enough to hurt hearing? Your mom’s asking how you are doing.”
Matthew pulled out the other bud and grunted an empty “sorry.”
“You still have bruises after two week? What did they do to you?” His mom’s voice was full of worry. Something he hadn’t heard in….too long. Too long to make him feel anything. To ever make him believe there was any sincerity to her words. To not think her voice and mannerisms were an act. An act by someone who…wasn’t really there.
“It’s only fair. I took a nose. Fractured a couple orbital bones. Left one with having to get his jaw wired shut. And one will never walk right again for what I did to his knee cap.” Matthew said it all with a bored and disinterested tone. Perhaps well rehearsed.
“My man, handing out ass kickings, not bothering to take names.” Dave was quick to be the typical man’s man about it. Matthew wasn’t quite done yet. Lifting up his shirt to expose the right side near his kidney. Revealing a nasty scar from a six inch blade. “Luckily they gave me this first so they could rule it all in self-defense. The fuck didn’t get it in more than inch before I ruined his knee cap and then I took the nose of one of the fucks holding me.” Now he chose to smile keeping the well practiced dead look in his eyes.
No retorts. No questions. Just horrified looks on their faces. As he liked. As he preferred. They could hate him. They could be disgusted by him. But by God they would fear him.
“Well the doc did a good job sewing you up.” Dave commented uncomfortably. “Dissolving sutures. Ain’t they grand.” He smiled again and let it abruptly fall off his face and started walking to the carousel for the baggage claim.
Waiting and making small talk with Dave as his mother stood in silence. He was not the little boy she abandoned. The little boy she left with an angry man. While never hitting him. Left him in constant fear till he turned twelve and just didn’t care anymore. Something snapped. Broke. And he didn’t care if he died. Didn’t care if he stole. Didn’t even care if he killed. He just knew not to get caught. Something left over from his grandfather’s wisdom which came to make more and more sense with each passing year of life since that thing inside him broke.
Finally his bag came around and Dave went to try first to grab it but Dave practically leapt ahead of him. “Is that your grandfather’s rucksack bag?” his mother asked in a perplexed voice.
“Figured it’s been around since Viet Nam. So it’d serve me better than any of the worthless stuff they called luggage.” Dave commented after Matthew’s words. “Well hell yeah I still got mine from Desert Storm. You know the first one.” Dave laughed and Matthew eyed him oddly. Be it in the south or whether it was Alaska, country boys are country boys he guessed.
The car ride to the two people’s house, as Matthew thought of them. Was uneventful and full of vistas he imagined metropolitan types wetting themselves over. At most they meant isolation to him. Furtherness from the world as there were no mountains in Florida. And what mountains he had last seen in another state had been when he was eight. Another life, to Matthew it felt like. A life alien to him.
As If It Was Kismet Ch 2
Dave and his mom’s place was some two story type tucked into a tree line far up an elevated point. It was by no means the highest point in the mountain but it certainly felt up there.
Rocks were where the driveway should have been Matthew thought. Grabbing his backpack and rucksack from Dave’s jeep was no hard thing for him. Matthew was in formidable shape for someone his age, maybe even five years older. He had gotten a mix of fairly big shoulders and arms along with the chest to go for it when compared to most kids his age. A side effect of working out at least twice a day. First thing in the morning, some time in the evening, and the school’s gym when had had a good semester in school before he had to leave Florida.
Dave tried to come up and help him but Matthew walked past him towards the house. His mom was not sure what to make of his demeanor. Matthew was not the sweet kind boy he had once been. But she had been gone from his life essentially for a long time.
Ushering him into the house she cracked some joke he did not hear. He was too busy looking about and seeing a mix of old outdated decorating mixed with the strange and odd flair of his mother. Color contrasting against drab and dated. Like brightly painting over an old home that was falling apart he thought.
“Your room is this way Mattie.” His mom brightly intoned.
Without expressing any interest he followed his mother. Still faced and nonplussed. Just going along with the current. Pushed and pulled with its roll like a piece of driftwood.
The room was simple. A single small bed. A set of rubber weights with a curl bar and barbells. “Your dad said you were into weight lifting so we got you a bunch of stuff. Dave says it looks like his department’s gym almost. The woman’s smile felt very alien to him.
“Thank you. I appreciate it. I’ve got most of my stuff from home.” Matthew starting unpacking his rucksack and pulled out cables of repetitive and mixed colors. A single plastic barbell handle. The ruck sack could be filled with water bottles for added weight during pushups he figured. Remembering a Michael Keaton movie he watched with his dad post-Batman movies where he played a convicted killer using plastic bags filled with water for weights.
Matthew caught movement outside his lone fairly large window that could let him step out onto the roof of the house given its layout.
He saw a number of people running together through what he guessed was the backyard of the property, not that it had any fences to mark boundaries
They wore clothes that looked similar yet different from each other at the same time.”Oh those are the Johnston’s. Really nice bunch of people. Been on the mountain for a long time Dave tells me.”
Matthew looked at the group of people running and noticed the lack of resemblance. “They are related?” Matthew quizzically asked. Seeing a black and possibly a hispanic person amongst the bland looking white people.
“Oh well they are all adopted but for one or two of them…besides the parents of course. The family has a long tradition of taking in orphans they say. Real nice of them to do that don’t you think.”
Matthew looked at his mother and the hosier accent made no sense to him as he arched his left eye brow. Her and his dad were both from Florida. Born and raised. Sure her parents were from New York city but…
Matthew shook his lightly without turning to look at his mother as his vision was grabbed by one of the runners in particular. A girl of moderate height. Soft brunette. A plain beauty he figured with a slim build….and lack of remarkable breasts and rear to make any note of but….girls in general were his type at his age.
She was pretty enough. He couldn’t deny that but he found himself transfixed by her visage.
But the way she turned and looked at him, especially at that distance felt very disconcerting to him. Even if she was smiling like…she was a taste of a bright shiny day. Somehow.
Matthew’s mom noticed the exchange and smiled to herself with closed lips. “Oh that’s Vicky. She’s your age I think. Very sweet girl, who does the charity functions. You know bake sales, blood drives, car washes and the like. I think you should get to know her. Might be good for you.”
A truck horn sounded a couple of beeps in rather succession. “Oh that must be Mack, he said he might come by later this evening but he seems early.”
Matthew’s mother turned and left his room. Leaving Matthew to exchange a few looks with the alluring Vicky as she turned her head away from him to talk to the others in her group and look back at him.
Still Matthew’s left eyebrow was arched. In a way that reminded him of Spock from Star Trek that he and his grandpa used to watch on some streaming service or another.
As he heard ambient chatter elsewhere outside the house he figured to check it out as the alluring sight of Vicky would be around he figured. It was dull to stare at artwork. He was a boy who preferred jet skis and the like. Something he could ride and enjoy immensely. Even if at times it got him stabbed.
As If It Was Kismet Ch 3
Matthew sauntered out of the house and down the rockway that stood in for a driveway.
A few new people had come over from what he could first surmise of the situation. As he got closer it was obvious they were indigenous people. A couple of grown men…and a girl?
She was mousey. Maybe five foot. Hiding behind glasses and a big camo jacket that was far too big for her. It looked made for a grown man and the backwards trucker hat on her head kept her long black a beautiful mess of sorts.
She was cute in a way. A little androgynous but she had a cute energy to her. She reminded him of the more tomboyish Puerto Rican girls he had gotten into back in Florida. Given the deer corpses in the back of the truck….probably more dangerous to play with given the men in her family.
Small chatter passed between the adults when the girl noticed but turned away, trying to hide the tiny hint of a smile.
“Oh Mattie, this is Mack. He works with Dave at the sheriff’s department and John, he’s with fish and wildlife.” Matthew nodded at his mom’s words with some blankness as he looked at the deer the in the back of the pickup truck.
“Gale tells us you hunted with your dad some in Florida and Georgia.” Mack offered with a light hearted laugh camouflaged by his big simple and cheery but husky way he spoke.
Looking in the back of the truck he spoke. “We used lever action thirty-thirties and Mosin Nagants in seven-six-two-fifty-four-rimmed.” Mack and John whistled in an exaggerated fashion. Leaving Matthew to wonder if they were mocking him.
Mack spoke. “Well we just used thirty-odd-six in a custom gussied Garand.” That caught Matthew’s attention. “You have a Garand…” Matthew finally demonstrated interest in anything. “My dad has an SVT-40 and a Hakim 8mm but he always wanted a Garand but was too cheap to buy one.”
Gale, his mother, chimed in loudly. “Oh his Dad loved his guns but was such an odd duck about how he bought or why he bought them. Never made sense to me how he wasn’t a collector but he didn’t get the latest and greatest.” Gale laughed uncomfortably. At least it seemed that way to Matthew.
Matthew pointed to the girl with an underhanded pointing hand. “And who is this? A cute little mute mouse or does she have a name?” Dave and the other men laughed.
Mack again spoke. “Well you people call her Rebecca, she’s my adopted daughter.” Matthew was taken aback by what he heard. “You people?”
Rebecca kindly spoke with a soft but almost melodic voice as she struggled to maintain eye contact. “White people or rather not members of our tribe. It’s just easier to appease the colonizer kind of thing. Borrowed from when the Jesuit missionaries chased us up here.”
Mack stepped in. “It’s just easier to have white people names than have them try to say our tribal names. And we don’t want them shortening or Anglicising our names kind of thing.” Rebecca stepped back into the conversation cutting off her adopted father. “It’s an insult to our history basically.”
Matthew cocked his head sideways raising his eyebrows shortly before letting them drop. “Well as soon as I’m eighteen I’m out of here and back to Florida so I’m a sort of involuntary colonizer of sorts. So I won’t be taking any of your land from you. The Seminoles on the other hand are still shit out of luck.”
Rebecca’s smile caused Matthew to reflexively smile. Mack made the moment more awkward. “See Becca, I told you someone off the reservation would like you some. You just have to be creative.” Mack laughed in a chiding manner…Matthew presumed. He sensed that he was the butt of some kind of cultural joke. Like marrying a white guy was some sort of insult or mark of shame. That kind of thing.
Rebecca turning away from him was not something he had been expecting. Her then getting in the truck in a huff left the group in a silence for a moment.
Dave spoke to break the awkward silence. “Well just bring the truck to work on Monday and leave it for me to grab up.” Mack acknowledged Dave and they started to get off as Rebecca looked at Matthew for another instance. Matthew couldn’t look away for some reason as the two seemed to lock eyes for an instance.
Till Vicky and family seemed to come jogging down the road. While Matthew’s eyes diverted from Rebecca’s. Hers did not till she realized he was looking elsewhere. And her vision found Vicky and what had been a hint of smile on her face turned glum and disappointed.
Matthew did not look away from the vision of Vicky but instead of a starry eyed fool looking longingly. It was a baffled look. Well baffled for him, with his eyes drawn narrow and night with a focus.
There was something about her…he couldn’t quite put a name too. The way she appeared to him. One second brunette. The next second blonde or blonde like. As if the color appeared in her air and disappeared in fractions of seconds. Much the same way her body almost seemed to…shift…very subtly…smoothly. A nicer bum. Larger breasts. And then back to a simple and plain form. Feminine no doubt. Attractive. But not so…remarkable.
As If It Was Kismet Ch 4
The next two days passed without incident. Nothing of any real substance or challenge to note.
Matthew got settled somewhat and started working out almost immediately. Exploring around the woods but Dave told him not to go far. Especially without a hunting rifle. Dave had left a simple semi-auto Winchester out for him. His bear gun as Dave referred to it with its four round magazine. But Matt figured till he got some practice with the rifle to leave it alone. He made a hiking stick like his grandpa taught him and treated it over a low fire. He would take some electrical tape for the end his hand would grip around. Plenty enough to ward off anything smaller than a bear he figured.
The ride to school was a pain in the neck but simple enough. Dave would let him use a clunker pickup truck he had laying around. It wasn’t pretty but it would get him to and from. Even if it was from the eighties and still backfired on occasion. But for now Dave and his mom took him on their way to the sheriff’s department.
It wasn’t much of a school. It wanted to be modern but its fifties original construction was very obvious. It serviced the pipeline families and familys’ of fisherman who worked the seasons in between their time at the pipeline.
Matt was to report to the principal for some reason Dave and his mom wouldn’t share. Which annoyed him but he figured it was to read him the law of land. Small towns with their big views of the outside world and like.
Dressed in jeans, a grey sweatshirt under a light jacket with steel toed boots set him more apart then he expected. His buzzed head didn’t help matters. Already he was feeling like a stranger in a strange land but he was quite strange after all. And he liked it that way. Normal people were so pathetically disappointing to him.
A secretary or assistant or some such led him to the principal’s office. Where it reeked of real wood that was old and fabric and upholstery that needed to be updated for the last twenty years, Matt figured.
“This is Matthew Berkshire, Principal Andrews.” The man was turned with his back to the door and he was quick to wave her off as he turned her around.
He was an older man. Fat and large. Tall with a body built like he had once been fit and a demeanour of annoyed and irate already as he fixed Matt with a scowl and look of disgust. Another worthless government whore. Matt thought to himself. His father and his grandfather had bestowed unto him a natural disrespect for government workers and the figures that wore unjustified authority as a shield but pretended the weight of the state was not at their back ready to crush all who resisted. Little figures of valor pretending to be mighty and alone but acting with the tyranny of the state and all the backing.
“Mr. Berkshire, please sit down.” His tone wasn’t unusually hostile, just gruff. As if he had better things to do.
Matt complied and took a seat in the chair while maintaining a friendly facade. Not everyone was an enemy. And not everyone needed to be an enemy. Even if anybody could be any enemy. There was no reason to make enemies you didn’t have to. Another of his grandfather’s bastardised wisdoms.
“Well I looked over you file and you have quite the history Mr. Berkshire.” Matt resisted qiuping back a joke. Instead he waited for Principal Andrews to continue as he remained nonplussed and looking as if he felt no need to respond. A simple head tilt with dead eyes looking back at the principle as if he was not even there would suffice.
Matt’s reaction or lack of a reaction rather made Principal Andrews only narrow his eyes with examination. He was not used to a kid not responding to him. Especially with his gruff and hard act going on.
“Well by all accounts you moved here after some problems at your last school. A fight broke out and you did some real harm to your fellow students it appears.” Of course, he would take the side of the perpetrators. School administrators always did. Especially when they weren’t white. Just a fact of the times. Cowardice and pathetic mediocrity was the way they leaned, like good government workers sucking the dick of Big Daddy government. Worthless whores.
Matt chose to reply. “Oh you mean the criminals that stabbed me. Got arrested at the hospital and then pled to felonies. Yeah Florida, with the American counties are good like that.” Principal Andrews went real still. No shame. No fear. No penitence. He didn’t like that.
“Well be it as it may Mr. Berkshire we don’t tolerate that kind of behaviour here…” Matt cut him off responding with a deadpan tone. “You mean self-defense meant to save one’s own life while the cowardly and pathetic school workers look on with zero interest but to keep their money rolling in and will allow known gang members with records of violent acts and crimes that should have them expelled many times over, where in certain Democrat counties such cowardice and idiocy empowered a couple school shooters?”
Principal Andrews looked at the Matt with a note of disgust. “Look here Mr. Berkshire, your beliefs matter not one bit here. This isn’t Florida. We don’t like our way of life being disrupted by outside agitators who have problems with authority.”
Matt did his best not to roll his eyes and let the older fat man drone own as he dead-stared him. Lifeless and without emotion.
The man came to a finish and Matt spoke up without having listened to him or paid him any attention. “Great now that’s taken care of. Can I please get to class and finish my sentence of two years at your wonderful school?”
Principal Andrews huffed and snorted before calling in Vicky. Vicky stood in the corner after entering with a quiet and seamless presence. Matt felt disturbed and tried not betray his feelings as the young Vicky was perceived and not perceived to be moving.
Principal Andrews made the introductions and Matt nodded back. She was to be his chaperone for the day. They had the same classes and she was to show him the ropes so to speak. The ins and outs of the school. The locations of their classes.
He recognized her. It was hard not to. The way her appearance seemed to shift fluidly almost. The petite and skinny brunette ever so lightly had a big bust and blonde hair with curves added when she seemed to shift before his eyes. Like watching a film but each frame had a different person.
Matt didn’t say anything about it. Even if he did he would only be acknowledging his crazed state, if he had one. If.
Unlike an obedient puppy dog he got up in a slow and awkward fashion and followed behind her as his oddly disproportionate frame allowed. Causing her a note of concern for some reason. As if she was seeing something she shouldn’t have been….Or he was just weird. And Matt could admit to himself he was just weird. Part of his charm, he would jest about it at times. Not that he had many people to jest to now.
As If It Were Kismet Ch. 5
Following Vicky into the hall off to their first class was simple. She exchanged small talk and he slightly smiled as if to obviously suggest he was just being polite.
Inside his head, Matt was trying to figure out if he was having a psychotic break. The way Vicky looked kept changing and he looked at the other people around him and they stayed the same.
He was searching his mind as they were walking. And thus he wasn’t paying attention to where he was looking and so fell to his face forward over his feet seemingly out of nowhere.
A series of laughs erupted as it sunk in that he was obviously tripped. Like in prison this was a challenge to his superiority. If he let this pass he would be mocked and sneered at by this same group of boys. He wouldn’t walk to them like he was going to do nothing like a little bitch.
In a rage he turned and punched the stomach of the first face he saw. Some typical blonde haired wannabe jock. He knew from experience not to aim for the ribs. Instead he needed to aim for where he thought the belly button was.
Yells and screams blindly echoed around him as his after the punch he followed up his elbow of the opposite arm slamming into the face of the jock. Harder than a fist, the elbow struck the jock’s jaw and seemingly dropped him against a locker. Just in time to catch an errant and soft punch to the nose that sure enough hurt but did little to slow him down as his dad had taught him to fight through the pain. Blood and scars happened. They were a natural consequence of life to a man.
Taking the punch and falling further into his red state Matt headbutted the punch thrower before another guy arm bared his throat from behind. Which he managed to get his grip on the arm over a letterman jacked and jerk the unprepared boy to the side with him still latched on.
A few feet away from the lockers Matt knew his only chance was to jump and push off the lockers and knock the boy to the ground and so he did. He heard a thunk of the boy’s skull bouncing off the ground and he turned to pull out of the grapple.
The beatings he had taken from his father, the grapples, being choked unconscious. Had prepared him for fighting little bitches who didn’t know what a fight was. It wasn’t gay porn with rabbit punch fists flying.
Blood was running down his face and the pain started to hit him as the threats had been eliminated. Only then did he remember to breathe. Taking breathes as Vicky came up to him with tissues and took a hold of his nose.
“Owww owww owww what the fuck my nose could be broken.” He said to Vicky as she pulled his head up and back.
“It’s ok Carl. It’s done.” Matt tried to look to see who Vicky was talking to. It was a boy taller than his 5’9” by more than a small margin. The boy eyed him bored and annoyed before speaking. “What happened here?” An unoriginal line but one Matt couldn’t be a smart aleck about. “Well you see there was an outbreak of tripping and we all tripped over my dick. It happens.” Matt was about to laugh when Vicky seemed to pull up while still gripping his nose causing Matt no small amount of pain which he audibly evidenced.
Vicky spoke in a tone he wasn’t expecting. As if she was accustomed to issuing orders. “Keep Iris away from the hall till we sanitize the site. We have blood from at least three people contaminating the site. And have Jake bring me a spare jacket and shirt for this moron.”
Carl seemed to acknowledge her orders and seemed to blink away. Maybe the punch hit harder than he expected. He had no time to wonder as Vick took her hand away from his and pushed him against the lockers. With ease he had not been expecting from her form and stature.
Before he could respond Vicky licked his blood covered chin and then his lips and spoke to him. “Focus on me you little blood bag.” Her tone had an annoyed yet feminine sneer.
“Look into my eyes. Look at me. You belong to me. You are just another food source in a collection of food sources.” Her eyes were a beautiful hazel Matt thought. Almost green. Pretty like jewels in some old treasure collections. The eyes he could get lost in before kissing her. Finally Vicky was just a slight and petite brunette and he thought she was beautiful.
She would make a hell of a girlfriend. Some cute thing he could see laying on the beach in Florida on their sides laughing and smiling before trading light kisses while hands wandered innocently. Before his mind could drift further he felt her lips on his. It took him a second to mentally grasp the kiss but his arms were around her back as her hands were at his sides. His eyes reflexively closed as he saw hers close.
It was ineffable to Matt. Beyond words, what was happening. The kiss, the moments beforehand. The way his brain tickled with electricity and gentle warmth. He had never had a kiss like this and he had traded more than a few kisses with at least a few girls.
The kiss was like a warm bath with his consciousness slipping beneath the surface. Their lips only parted to try new angles and approaches as Matt struggled to take in breath. It was a moment he could have stayed trapped in for….he didn’t know. But a curt throat clearing by another girl pulled them out of the moment.
The girl was taller than Vicky. Blonde. With slight curves. Vicky addressed her bewildered and gobsmacked, and perhaps a bit embarrassed. “Tina?”

i noticed as we flew through the sky, on our way to regroup with Lobelia's group, that in this dragon form drew in energy as i flew, maybe in a way to maintain the form, this was too new for me to know at this time. it didn't take long to reach the spot to regroup with Lobelia, but when we arrived, we didn't see anyone around the area. i decided to come in for a landing, since i figured we might have arrived a bit early and i didn't want to cause a panic in this form in case someone else came along. as i was landing, i suddenly felt a rumbling through the ground, questioning if this was a quake or something else. it didn't take long to get my answer since a mere moment later we saw a huge explosion off in the distance. i had an uneasy feeling about this, as i turned my head to look at Clint, Bruno, and Vince, whom all had the same feeling. with no words exchanged, i took back to the sky and headed in the direction of the explosion, hoping that this wouldn't be a repeat of my village. while we were still approaching the area, we saw a green light fired into the air roughly where we were heading. Clint yelled out to me, letting me know that was a distress flare the elf group used during their share travels following me to Dragonus. i started to pick up speed, as the group tighten their grips, to try to get to them sooner. when we arrived over head, we looked down on a field full of beasts, monsters, and demons. what once was an unknown future has finally come to a head and we had no other choice but to engage the enemies.
as we flew over the battlefield, i started to fire off different elemental dragon blasts to thin out the enemy groupings and help find where Lobelia's group was exactly located. they fired off another distress flare spell, allowing me to lock on to their location, at which time Clint's group heard me speak for the first time in this form. "do you trust me?", to which they each nodded, "then release your grip and follow me", to with they did. at this moment, i released the dragon form, sending us all into a free fall toward the ground. Vince started to cast every buff he could think of as we fell on the party, while Bruno, Clint, and i drew our weapons for battle. i focus energy into one of my hands and with a swing of my arm, i enveloped the group in wind barriers. just before we were about to make impact, i went into a drive-bomb stance, while charging as many elements as i could into my weapon. upon impact, my weapon blew apart, unleashing the elements and weapon fragments through the area, causing massive explosions, wiping out hundreds of enemies at once. Clint, Bruno, and Vince came in a mere moment later, causing shock waves around the area, sending enemies flying. i quickly pulled out two swords to duel-wield, has we started to fight our way through the hoards of enemies, making our way over to Lobelia's group. Clint's group went to fortify Lobelia's group, while i continued to thin the ranks in front of us, unleashing everything i learned during my training. Vince and a few of the elves cast various team buff abilities on me, as the others aided from behind, guessing worried that one of my new skills might catch them by accident. Lobelia took advantage of some strong winds approaching and caused the wind to form a few tornadoes on the battlefield with air magic. something inside told me what i should do, almost as if by memory, i combined together ground and fire elements and slammed the spell into the ground toward one of the tornadoes. followed by shooting off water and ice spells into another, then finishing by firing off a lightning dragon blast down the center of the field, taking out numerous enemies before hit another one of the tornadoes. the ground started to rumble as it split open and lava strayed out, heading toward the first tornadoes, opening a volcanic eruption underneath, forming a magma twister. the water and ice struck the next one, forming high speed ice tornado. the lightning hit another one, whipping it around until it became a voltaic twister. these three ripped through the battlefield, wiping out hoards of enemies by the second, until all three smashed together causing a huge explosion over the entire battlefield. we all quickly took cover, as everything came raining down, wiping everything out. as the dust started to settle, we all regrouped, everyone absolutely stunned by what just happened. when we could finally see the field again, we saw that there was still someone standing out in the middle of the battlefield. the lone survivor yelled out at us "you'll have to do better then that to kill me", just then realizing, he seemed to be a high ranked demon.
the demon stood there, staring us down, waiting for one of us to make a move. we debilitated if we should spread the group back out some, so that we wouldn't be seen as a single target for the demon. i told the group that i would go in for the attack to hold his attention and they should provide back up and support when they saw an opening. i stepped forward out of the group and started to walk toward the demon, as it started to smirk back at me. after i got enough distance between me and the group, i did a quick flap of my wings to shoot myself forward at the demon and start the battle. the demon readied for contact, as a mere moment later we made first contact of battle. in a flash the battle begin with us blasting around the battlefield, firing off attacks and spells nearly faster then the eye can see. everyone else took any small opportunity they saw to try and aid with buffs, spells, and attacks. the demon seemed annoyed by the interference to our battle and start to fire off attacks back at the others any chance he got. this battle continued as a stalemate for half a day, which the demon took any opportunity when we locked in a clash to taunt me. it would says things each time such as "this world is already going to be destroyed", "you all don't stand a chance", "you really think you can save them", and more of the like. it wouldn't be long before the demon started to put it's words into action, as a few of the elves shot off infused arrows at it when they saw an opening, just for the demon to catch them mid flight and redirect the arrows back at them, sending the arrows straight through their skulls and killing half the elves in Lobelia's group. this threw the groups into a panic, which caused them to act rashly in an attempt to take out the demon. Lobelia and Vince stayed back casting buffs and heals on the remaining people, while the remaining few elves, Clint and Bruno jumped into the battle in an attempt to end this. before i could stop them, they charged in for the attack and i needed to try my best to stop the demon from getting them as well. the battle intensified as we attacked from all sides in an attempt to overwhelm the demon and hopefully turn the fight in our favor. it seemed to be working as we seemed to be slowly damaging it, that is until i realized my attacks were the only few that actually doing damage. the demon suddenly smirked again and i quickly yelled out for them to get back, but by this point it was too late. as Clint went in for a swift strike, the demon caught his sword arm, ripping it out at the shoulder socket, and plunging his sword through his head. the few elves followed shortly after when the demon ripped one in half while skewering two more with it's tail, before smashing another's head in with a headbutt and the last one being sent flying with a kick to the chest and splattering on the ground upon impact. i had already moved in to try and stop him, but kept getting knocked back, as it's focus was on the other people here. Bruno went in for an attack as the demon was dealing with me and managed to chop off one of it's wings before it turned around and grabbed Bruno by the neck. before i could stop it, the demon plunged it's other hand straight through Bruno's armor and chest, ripping his heart out. before tossing Bruno's body aside, the demon took the sword from Bruno's hands and threw it in a spinning motion toward Vince, slicing him in two. before it could do anything to Lobelia, i fired off a full elemental dragon breath, blasting a giant hole through the demon. as i stood over the demon, readying to kill him, i asked if he had anything to say before i ended him. the ground started to rumble and quack as he said to us, "you fools, it's already too late, i was but a distraction. your world falls now!". i chopped off it's head as we hear explosions in the distance and the ground starts in split open and crumble. after all that had happened, everything we went through, and losing all but me and Lobelia, was this truly the end for us?

Hi everyone! I'm currently looking for any feedback on the first chapter of my short novel, which has just reached the second draft stage. It's about the main character being forced into eliminating the heads of an island conquered by vampires. The title is referencing a blood moon which remains present only on the island, always draping it in darkness and making it perfect for its inhabitants. I see it as a gothic Suicide Squad with less characters.
Thanks!
The chateau remarked itself as the jewel of the street.
The building rose above its accompanying homes, two stories larger than its nearest neighbours. A grand display of the original owner’s wealth, it now belonged to the vampires, like the rest of Prache. Looking down the street, Hitchforth recognised it from afar, his target for tonight’s mission. He watched stylish vampires enter through the front gate, greeted by ushers at the entrance, checking their invitations. Checking the inner pocket of his greatcoat, he searched for the invitation given to him, satisfied it was there. Hitchforth looked to his left and saw the rookie’s for tonight’s mission checking for his invitation. The rookie searched throughout his body, appearing to have lost the card, but found it before Hitchforth could scold him, offering it to his Educator.
The rookies they gave him rarely survived his missions. Sometimes he thought they were sent as a punishment, a test to see if they could survive. In his old age he had seen countless rookies, forgetting countless names and faces. This one beside him seemed nervous, adjusting his collar, wiping the sweat from his brow, avoiding eye contact with Hitchforth. This one might as well have been sentenced to an execution. What was his name? Anton? Arthur? It wouldn’t matter in the end, but the rookie’s nervousness could jeopardise the mission entirely.
“Tell me,” he said, seriousness in his tone. “Are you afraid of me or the vampires?”
The rookie fidgeted with his fingers before responding, wiping his brow from the new sweat that dripped. “B-b-both, sir.”
“Breathe. Fill your lungs and empty them. Like this.” Hitchforth demonstrated for the rookie, taking extra care to show the slow speed of the action.
The rookie did as instructed, inhaling and exhaling deeply.
“It helps?” Hitchforth asked.
“Yes sir,” the words spoken with more clarity and calmness.
“Good, let’s go into the lion’s den then.”

They approached the front entrance, lining up to be ushered in. Carmilla’s festivity had attracted the richest of Prache’s vampires, adorned in foreign jewels and extravagant clothing. The rookie almost slipped on an exceptionally long dress, caught by the cuff by Hitchforth. Looking behind him, he saw the fury in their red eyes, that Humanity’s Hope had been invited. Reaching the usher, Hitchforth handed his and the rookie’s invitations, inspecting the vampire’s face. The slightest twinge of shock showed on his face, but was quickly concealed with a stern, professional demeanour. He waved them both in, shooting a questioning glance as they passed by.
The building appeared larger inside than it was outside, if possible. The minimal red torches fitted on sconces and the amount of vampires fitted into the building helped accentuate its size. A sea of suits and dresses spread throughout its floor, different colours and materials shining in the ambient light. Imported marble made up the floor, dark and white tiles patterned intricately. Large windows draped by exotic curtains furnished the walls throughout the building, paintings spread in between the spaces. Hitchforth could just make out the paintings as portraits, the closest to him being a group of five vampires.
What surprised Hitchforth the most was the sounds that filled his ears. Music played by a orchestra filled the building with the sounds of strings, woodwinds, percussion and brass sections. Pushing past the crowd that had congregated near the front entrance, Hitchforth saw dancing. Vampires dancing in line with their partners to the music, alternating between partners, spinning with arms outstretched.
Behind the dance floor a grand staircase rose from the floor, providing access to the two other stories of the building. It was there that Hitchforth saw the target for tonight’s mission come down the stairs, stopping high enough to be seen, but low enough to be heard. Immediately the orchestra ceased its playing, the dancers also ceasing their dancing. The congregation around the entrance strode to the dance floor, taking Hitchforth and the rookie with them, waiting for her words.
She was tall and deathly beautiful, more civilised and confident than the others. She wore a dark crimson dress, accenting her red eyes and slender face. Her moonlight coloured hair draped straight down past her shoulders, shining despite the lack of light. Her red lips parted into a savage smile, displaying the pointed canines she shared with every member of her race. Hitchforth noticed she looked directly at him, her eyes sizing him as a lion would to its prey. Carmilla Sanguine had arrived.
She spoke to the guests, keeping her eyes on Hitchforth. “Welcome all, to the festivities of tonight. I hold today’s ball as a celebration of our independence as a species, our freedom from humanity.” The guests cheered at the words, delighted at the words. “And please give our warm Prache hospitality to our sanctioned guests of Humanity’s Hope, who have joined us.”
The vampires did not cheer at those words, hushing and hissing silently as they turned to see Hitchforth and the rookie. It was easy to find them, both wearing their issued dark green greatcoats. Hitchforth had refused formal attire for the event for himself and his rookie, knowing they would stand out regardless.
“Enjoy your time tonight and as always, long live our king.”
“Long live our king,” the crowd shouted out in unison, mirroring Carmilla’s words.
Carmilla stepped down the stairs, her guests returning to conversation and dancing. She mingled with her guests, leaving Hitchforth and the rookie alone.
“Sir, what now?” the rookie asked.
“She will come to us, she can’t help herself,” Hitchforth said whilst looking over her watching her conversations. From a distance he could still see the power she held, the fear in the faces of the vampires she held conversations with. From what he had been told, the heads of Prache kept to themselves mostly, only communicating when necessary. The mission would not be hindered by reinforcements, or so he had been told.
Carmilla made her way over to where Hitchforth and the rookie stood, flanked by two bodyguards in suits. She looked over the rookie, smiling and looking into his eyes. Hitchforth saw the rookie smile back, his nervousness gone. Already her mind games had begun.
“Hello, Carmilla,” he said, breaking her eye contact with the rookie.
“Greetings, Educator Hitchforth. And who might this be here?”
“My rookie. You know my name?” Carmilla had come closer to the rookie, stroking his cheek with her hand as Hitchforth spoke. Hitchforth saw the sharp nails on her hand, softly grazing the rookie’s skin.
“Isn’t fresh blood the best? We don’t get a lot of humans here, I’m sure you know.” Carmilla moved her hand away, turning and answering the Educator. “Of course, who doesn’t know the only Lycan Educator in Humanity’s Hope? I’m sure everyone here has smelt it already.”
“Fair enough. Can we talk in a more…,” Hitchforth looked around, noticing most of the guests were paying attention to their conversation. “Private place?”
“Of course, Educator. Allow me to lead the way,” she said, taking hold of the rookie’s hand and walking ahead. Hitchforth stared at him from behind to let go yet he continued, unable to escape her trance. Playing along, he followed Carmilla up the stairs, leaving behind the vampires to dance and socialise below.

Carmilla lead Hitchforth and the rookie up the stairs to the second floor, passing through multiple hallways and doors to reach their destination. The building’s halls and rooms seemed to continue endlessly, doors leading to more doors and longer hallways. They walked down a long staircase, perhaps made for the servants of the building. They walked through a large hallway containing Carmilla’s thralls, lined up against the wall, saluting as she passed. Eventually they reached a cold room with a large table in the centre with a fireplace emitting red flames. Red ash was a new invention created since the vampires had conquered Prache, a harmless light source for their needs. They had invested heavily into the island as their home and Hitchforth knew they would not give it up easily. Looking above the mantle place, Hitchforth noticed the familiar painting from the ballroom.
All the five vampires matched the descriptions he was told, to the point he could recognise them all. At the forefront sat Harrow Sanguine, the self-appointed king of Prache. He looked younger than the rest of his family, his ashen skin painted flawlessly. His fierce eyes stared back into Hitchforth, instilling fear from even his heart. To his right stood his wife, Rose Sanguine, who bore a strong resemblance to Carmilla, matching hair and all. To the king’s left stood Varney Sanguine, wearing his familiar grey suit and matching brown flat cap. Standing next to Varney was Father Nostra, the religious leader of Prache, wearing his black cassock. Finally, standing next to her mother was Carmilla Sanguine, identical to her real life presence.
“Where are we?” Hitchforth asked.
“A meeting room under the chateau. We won’t be disturbed here.”
“And your guests? They won’t be afraid you’ve gone missing?”
Carmilla laughed. “Those fools will be too blood drunk in the morning to remember their past few days. Our meeting will be fine.” She ordered her guards out of the room, instructing them to stay outside, just in case. “The guards will be waiting outside,” she said, warning in her tone.
“What do you want?”
“When my father sanctioned a member of Humanity’s Hope to visit the island, I was surprised they chose you.”
Hitchforth shrugged. “I’m expendable.”
“Yes, they do see you in that way, and that may be so. But I see more.”
Hitchforth furrowed his eyebrows. “Like what?”
“I see opportunity. I see power. I see a new path.”
“Care to explain?”
“You are the only Educator that is not human. On Prache we can give you freedom, like we have achieved.”
Hitchforth thought over what Carmilla said, processing her words. She had to have been desperate to separate him from any prying eyes, eager to keep her plans secret. The only choice was to continue.
“I see. They say a hand that lends help is matched by a hand that waits repayment. What is the repayment you seek from me?”
Carmilla smiled more than she had before, looking more unnatural than she ever had before. Her smile outstretched to the corners of her face and Hitchforth thought he saw her eyes darken lustfully. Not lust for blood, but lust for power. “The crown. With my connections and Humanity’s Hope, we can topple my father’s regime. He is outdated, out of touch with the population’s desires and needs. I can give it to them.”
Hitchforth scoffed at the words. “And you believe Humanity’s Hope is willing to partner with a vampire?”
“They partnered with you didn’t they? I see no difference.”
“I have no partnership. Something much worse.”
“It doesn’t matter. My father is eager to enact revenge for the prosecution vampires have felt for millennia. I am willing to move on.”
Hitchforth looked to the rookie, who had remained silent throughout the conversation. He sweated through his coat, leaving visible stains. The trance Carmilla had put him through had broken, putting her attention to Hitchforth. He could feel the slight strings pulling him in the direction she wanted, appealing to his emotions and desires. He considered over her terms, it made sense to accept the deal. Why would he protect his captors? His mind travelled elsewhere, to a farmhouse and her tending to her flower garden. He thought of her smile, and the little one that accompanied her.
“Do we have a deal? You have no choice either way, Educator,” Carmilla said, snapping Hitchforth back to reality.
He looked to his rookie, signalling under the table to warn him. Hitchforth saw him nod subtly, trying not to give away the motion.
“No,” Hitchforth said, raising the table above his head, smashing it into Carmilla’s body, sending her flying.

Okay, when I first watched that scene, I thought he meant "I don't think that's a good idea you decide to rush off right now" and that he is not comfortable lending his wagon because he doesn't want to indirectly support Elsa doing dangerous thing, something he doesn't think she should be doing.She doesn't explain much, doesn't plan much, acts rash and do-it-my-way even when Anna reacts like that's a rash decision.
And then when Anna said she is going too , I understood that although Kristoff himself thinks it is not a good idea for them to just leave everyone behind and go that instant, he is willing to support their decision and be of help.
BUT THEN I READ all these reviews saying Kristoff meant "I don't feel comfortable you borrowing my wagon", focusing on using his property. Kinda how people don't feel comfortable letting other people drive their car. What do you think ? After I read those reviews and rewatched the movie, I can't get that thought off my head : that he is worried about his freaking sled and reindeer when there is an earthquake and Arendale is in danger. If that is indeed what he meant, then he is just a dumb ass loser in my opinion.
Please tell me what you guys think. Thanks

I separated with my ex a year ago after she had an affair and her undiagnosed personality disorder became too much the bear. We currently share custody of our 2 kids (10 and 7) and the relationship between myself and my ex is awful as she is just a terrible person to deal with about anything.
Lately I'm growing more and more concerned with the wellbeing of my kids given the state of things that I hear from the kids (which I note down with date+time I learned of it)
Things like:

• The kids arriving late to school 2-4 times per week, every week for months in her custody. She lives 10 avenues away. The kids often say she loses track of time while on her phone
• That she is often having terrible fights frequently, especially with our eldest child (10) who she argues with like she did with me. She has grabbed her face in anger, slapped her arm and called her "malade mentale" (sick in the head)
• She left our kids to shop with food on the stove that boiled over requiring my kids to leave my ex's apartment and seek help from a neighbor
• She hasn't worked a full time job anywhere in a year since leaving, working only weekends she doesn't have custody forcing me to pay larger support payments
• Despite not working she regularly leaves the kids at daycare after school even later than myself who works a 40 houweek job
• My kids have often described how their mother is secluded in her room and the only interactions at home are during supper time. She lives on her phone and my kids just sit around on tablets and watch TV. She is not emotionally available at all
• My kids have described their mother frequently crying and arguing on the phone. They also say she has a bad temper and very impatient with them. They have described being frightened of her and asked me not to raise my concerns when they tell me because they are worried my ex will get mad at them for telling me
• When the kids have been sick with high fevers in my custody she hasn't inquired once how they are doing, if we went to the doctor and ignores me filling her in
• When the kids are sick with her or have other medical issues she does not tell me. My son had a rash being treated behind his ear and he was here for 3 days before he told me it was really bothering him (itchy). I didn't continue treatment or provide treatment for days as I was unaware. Recently my daughter has had frequent nosebleeds and I only discovered when she herself brought it up "my nose is bleeding again" and it was the first time I heard of it
• My ex has been in therapy for a year now and regularly changing mental health medications and describing herself as foggy, not thinking straight
• Our kids met my ex's affair partner recently when they were both sick and the first meeting he was left with the kids for hours while their mother went to work. She then took the kids for a weekend getaway with him and his 3 teenage kids forcing them to stay the night instead of anything neutral and/or gradual
• She blocked my number 6 weeks ago after I texted her "it would be expected and courteous to advise me when showing up at my house to drop something off" when she just showed up one weekend morning on my doorstep. I now have no way to reach my children and talk in her custody and in an emergency when I have custody I cannot contact my ex.

It seems there's nothing I can do about this and just allow it to happen. It seems so wrong and broken to me that it requires a mother to basically be a severe drug addict living with a sexual predator for them to lose custody. Meanwhile the damage to my children's mental health is a paramount concern and I'm powerless.
Is there anything I can do to protect my children?

I am fuming.
I have a lovely sweet labrador. He’s about as labby as you can get. A stereotypical dumb blonde with a big heart. He’s also a still a puppy, so he’s obviously very excitable.
Today, I took him for a walk on this big field near our home. This field is 20 seconds away from a children’s leisure centre, 30 seconds away from a children’s play park and 45 seconds from a primary school. Children come on this field to play football, and dog owners come to play ball when it’s not in use.
My lab is off the leash playing ball, when suddenly a girl walks by with her pit. Unmuzzled (we’re in the UK). A smaller chavvy girl. My dog sees hers and bolts over wanting to play. He’s still a puppy so doesn’t have recall at all so I can sprinting after her, calling out my apologies and trying to catch my dog.
She grabs her pitbull by the collar, obviously completely unable to control it as it starts writhing trying to bite and attack my lab who doesn’t know any better and thinks me chasing him is a game.
The whole time I’m chasing my pup in circles she is screaming at me that to ‘GET MY DOG’ and ‘MY DOG IS GOING TO ATTACK HIM’. Literally just screaming directly in my ear while she’s struggling to control her crazed weapon and I’m trying to catch my lab who is still just having run running around and being a menace.
Finally I catch him, and she starts going OFF at me about how her dog doesn’t do well around other dogs etc etc.
This just pissed me off to no end. Yes, it is my fault that my dog went barrelling after hers. I apologised as I was running over and as I was trying to catch him. 1000% my doing because my boy isn’t recall trained yet.
But you are taking your massive hulking monster that you cannot control UNMUZZLED onto a field where there I can see multiple children and infants walking and playing, where it’s KNOWN that dogs go to walk and play, at midday?
If your dog is that violent, at MINIMUM muzzle it. It should be anyway considering that’s the law, but especially if you are around children and other dogs?
This turns into a back and forth where she is just yelling at me that I need to keep my dog from running towards others (fair assessment), and me telling her if her dog is THAT violent and uncontrollable, she needs to either muzzle it or not walk it in a place with a bunch of kids during the day. This whole time I can still see her violent bulldozer straining at the leash to get my labrador who at this point has lost interest (as they do) and is just staring longingly at his tennis ball that he left behind in the field.
It just makes me so mad that there is 0 accountability. Yes, I need to teach my dog to return when I call. 100% I hold my hands up to that. But your dog is violent and you know it is, yet you still choose to take it out, illegally unmuzzled in a place with a bunch of children and other animals?
It is insane to me that fact that owners of these things refuse to see a single thing wrong. It’s always up to OTHER people to adjust for them. I should walk my dog somewhere else, I should keep my non violent dog on the lead instead of letting him run and play, I should be holding my non violent dog back.
Insanity to me.

“Your house is huge,” I say as I enter, glancing at the chandelier hanging from the high ceiling. “And you live here alone?”
“You get used to it,” my boyfriend smiles as he introduces me to the luxurious living room. “Make yourself at home.”
He jumps on the white leather couch and grabs a bottle of champagne from an ice bucket, pouring it in two crystal glasses. He hands me one and we drink it in one go.
“You’ve prepared everything,” I giggle. “I feel like this is gonna be a looong night.”
He pushes a few buttons on a remote control and the curtains glide open, revealing a dark garden. Lights flash on, illuminating the pool as well as various trees from below. A romantic song emanates from the ceiling speakers, gradually intensifying.
“Amazing,” I gasp.
“The pool’s heated, so we can take a dip without worrying about the snow.”
“Maybe later,” I say, afraid to tell him I never learned to swim.
We cuddle and chat for the next half hour when nature calls. He shows me to one of the bathrooms and returns to the living room.
I look around, appreciating the heated seat, the marble tiles and the golden toilet paper holder. When I try to snatch the paper, I notice something strange. It’s been placed backwards, the paper hanging from the back. I pull it out and put it in the right way so that the paper faces me.
When I’m done I wash my hands and open the door. I thought the music had become louder, but it’s only when I return to the living room that the blasting sound make me almost cover my ears. The curtains are shut close and my boyfriend is nowhere to see.
“What took you so long?”
I jump as he appears behind me.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”
“It’s fine,” I say, holding my chest, heart pounding. “Could you lower the volume a bit? It’s really loud.”
“Answer my question first,” he smiles.
“Erm, I was just looking around when I noticed your toilet roll was placed backwards, so I put it the right way in. I mean, who does that?” I giggle. “You must be either a cat owner or total psycho.”
He stiffens and stares right at me.
“Guess which one I am?”
“A total psycho?” I laugh but stop immediately when his expression hardens.
He inches towards me and carries his lips near my ear. He lowers his voice to a hiss and murmurs, “Right on the jackpot, baby.”
A cutter knife appears out of nowhere. With one hand he grabs my neck, slowly extending the blade in front of my eyes with the other.
“Stop!” I cry. “T-that’s not funny.”
“Neither is altering my stuff.”
The corner of his lip curls upwards, puckering a kiss in the air.
“I think you’re right, baby; I also feel like this is gonna be a looong night.”

Hi all.. apologies if this is in the wrong page. I have recently had a battery off blood tests due to a number of symptoms. I have fatigue; tiredness back pain.upper and lower.actual general body pain which I put down to growing older!! particularly upper bilateral arm pain which I would have put down to muscle aches.. but they have lasted weeks Since january I have been getting random rashes that start with a burning itching sensation and then spread to ..neck face arms etc..sometimes raised and bumpy sometimes not.. usually happens when exposed to cold air. they do go away and antihistamines help. I do have an odd moving intermittent sharp pain on my left clavicle or behind it..I cannot pinpoint where it comes from. it reminds me off referred pain I had in my right shoulder when I had a benign liver cyst removed last October. I do lose circulation in my arms and legs frequently and have to move them to get them going again! ie so my hands and feet can go numb..and when I shake it out I get pins needles etc and then all is OK.. I have had this a long time but last few months very frequently sometimes a crawly feeling in lower legs and hands and sometimes face..head.. not unbearable more odd and happens intermittently no night sweats.. or permanent rash. my bloods are out of normal ranges in the following areas hair loss esp last 2 years no thyroid issues do have sleep apnea ( on cpap) hbp high cholesterol esr at 38 ( lab values should be under 15) c reactive protein 10 ( should be less then 5 low folate alk phosphatase is 135 and has been rising in each blood test.
mchv was just below baseline in my last bloods.. but fluctuates
immunoglobulin profile
IgG 12.78 g/L (5.52-16.31) IgA 3.63 g/L (0.65-4.21) IgM 0.59 g/L (0.33-2.93)
my gp was concerned about the immunoglobulin despite numbers being within levels and he ordered Serum Protein Electrophoresis test
That all seemed to be within the parameters however there was a comment on the report, included below.
Albumin (Per) 57.5 % (54.1-64.8) Albumin 44.9 g/L (38.0-51.0) Alpha 1 Fraction (Per) 3.9 % (3.1-5.2) Alpha 1 Fraction 3.0 g/L (2.3-3.9) Alpha 2 Fraction (Per) 10.0 % (7.3-11.9) Alpha 2 Fraction 7.8 g/L (5.3-9.0) Gamma Fraction (Per) 14.9 % (10.9-20.0) Gamma Fraction 11.6 g/L (7.7-15.5)
Comment See comment... Faint monoclonal IgA Kappa in the beta-gamma region, approx. 1 g/L. Quantification of free kappa and lambda light chains is recommended in the monitoring of monoclonal paraproteins. Please submit a fresh 2 mL sample of serum if you require this test to be performed.
09/05/2024 Specimen: Serum SPE Total Protein 78 g/L (64-83) Beta 1 Fraction (Per) 6.9 % (5.1-7.8) Beta 1 Fraction 5.4 g/L (3.6-5.7) Beta 2 Fraction (Per) 6.8 % (3.6-7.7) Beta 2 Fraction 5.3 g/L (2.6-5.9)
I think he ordered a free light chains serum test..but details not on report only the below comment
Free light chains-serum Results received from referral laboratory. Report forwarded to requesting location.
I have requested to speak to my GP but that can take a few days. I was a bit alarmed when I saw the faint monoclonal comment so wondering if anyone here might know what I could be looking at.. if this is the incorrect forum please let me know
thank you

Has anyone else noticed that post-anhedonia they sigh less or more? I still sigh when depressed to relieve tension and discomfort in my solar plexus (something SSRIs numb for me), however pre-anhedonia I remember I would also sigh contentedly to release excited tension in my chest which felt good (kind of like stretching in the morning).
Is it that there’s nothing to get excited about, or that I can’t as easily FEEL those places in my chest which tell me that I am excited? Chicken or egg?
I also think (tho it’s hard to remember) that I used to be able to sense my heart beat from nerves in my chest more? Now it feels like I mostly sense it in my neck and stomach, and maybe by the pressure behind my eyes and ears? Kind of like a dead space for certain types of sensate signals. Makes sense if anhedonia is related to vagus nerve changes.

Ruby groaned as the alarm went off signaling that one of her charges had arrived back from their mission. While troublesome in its own right, what really got under her skin was that she only had one charge at the moment, and that edge lord piece of shit wasn’t supposed to complete his task for AT LEAST another 4 deca-cycles according to the prediction algorithm. Grumbling to herself, she rolled out of bed and poured herself a glass of water to offset the hangover she was trying to recover from.

A few moments later she was gliding down the hall to the meeting room. She knew Jason was going to pitch a fit that she had left him waiting, the self-entitled brat always did think the world revolved around him; but perhaps he should have thought about that before freaking dying so early. If he wanted her to be there to meet him upon death, he could at least have the decency to not die the morning after one of her binges.

Other staff members gave her a wide berth, even if it was a hollow title, she was still technically far above basically anyone else in the pecking order, at least those who had a physical presence within the Agency. She knew they all mocked her behind her back, even divine beings were sadly prone towards gossip. She put the anger at her subordinates/coworkers out of her mind for now; even if she didn’t particularly LIKE Jason, he still didn’t deserve her coming in with baggage.

Lost in her thoughts, she hadn’t noticed that she’d arrived in front of the conference room door. She had been mulling over her thoughts, just staring into nothingness, for several minutes before she finally snapped back to the present. With a soft rap on the door, she opened it and floated inside. Jason was lounging, sprawled out on the regally padded chair throne he so fancied.

They exchanged pleasantries before she sat down to go over the mission summary. Upon seeing the cause of death, she had regrettably lost her composure and started to laugh uncontrollably. Her mighty subordinate had been felled by a goblin?! The mighty Jason Alexander Coyle, “mercenary extraordinaire”, had gotten his shit kicked in by a lowly goblin using what looked like a shiny butter knife. Oh, it was just too rich to not laugh at the absurdity.

It took her much longer than she would like to admit, to stop laughing. Jason of course wore a sour look through the entire endeavor. She shrugged it off, she had little doubt that if the same thing had happened to someone else, he would have been right beside her doubled over in laughter. Hell, once he was in a less pissy mood, she might even be able to get him to laugh about it later.

As luck would have it, it appeared that Jason’s actions had been enough to alter the tides of the war. The kingdom, and its divinity, would still lose many to the battles ahead, but Jason had done enough that the Agency could still bill the client for services rendered. As she spoke, she could see the disdain the man had for her, he always complained that she was drunk and reeked of liquor. Sure, that was often true, but he didn’t need to be such a stick in the mud about it all.

She went ahead and authorized the transfer of credits to Jason’s account. As soon as she did so, he opened up the store page and tuned her out. She watched him open up the back-channel site and purchase something, a small part of her wondered who was going to get roasted over the coals this time for allowing their admin privileges to be hacked. She toyed with the idea of bringing up his illegal actions, but truth be told she didn’t really give a shit. The other divinities were far too lax with their security, it had been child's play for one of her previous wards to hack into the Agency’s system and build the black site.

She’d ask him once about the whole thing, didn’t really grasp as much as she would have liked, but basically it functioned by spoofing a handler's credentials. This allowed the user to gain access to encrypted parts of the network, specifically access to certain privileged services that handlers enjoyed and most importantly, access to the mission assignment database. Users could buy and sell restricted or banned goods, and a part of the profits would be siphoned off to her ward’s personal account.

With Jason’s attention otherwise occupied, Ruby went ahead and reviewed the logs for his previous mission. Something about it was nagging at her. She couldn’t put it into words; however, the whole series of events just didn’t feel like ‘bad luck’. Using her divine authority, she rewound events, watching Jason’s lungs unfill with blood and refill with air.

The goblin skulked back to its den of corpses, resheathing the dagger at its hips, and reburied itself underneath the bodies. She let it rewind another few moments before stopping the feed and letting it run at normal time. She watched the goblin, slowly shifting the bodies out of the way, making sure they made no noise when it moved them. Slowly, carefully, it began to creep towards Jason’s exposed back. It drew the blade, again slowly and quietly. It closed the distance making sure to never let Jason see it or to give him any reason to think someone was behind him. Then in a flash of movement it leapt, burying the dagger right into a joint in Jason’s armor. The placement was perfect, no resistance, so the blade sank to the hilt. Allowing it to puncture Jason’s right lung.

Ruby rewound the log once more. This was wrong, very wrong. The goblin was way too good to just be some random grunt. Its movements were too smooth, its aim too precise. No, she was sure of it now, this was not a normal goblin. She focused her attention on the thing, aiming to scan the goblin for abnormalities, the dust covering it offering a surprising level of resistance to her scan. Not enough to stop her from doing what she wanted, but more resistance than she felt was reasonable for the anti-magic powder.

When she finally gained access to the monster’s stat block, her suspicions were proven correct. That was no normal goblin, that was a Redcap, a Redcap assassin no less. What in the dozen hells was a Redcap assassin doing in the middle of a freaking battlefield?! Such a valuable unit wouldn’t be used on the front lines, their skill set was terribly suited for the chaos that was an active battle. No, something was very wrong here and Ruby was going to figure out what.

As her mind raced trying to puzzle out what the actual fuck was going on, something else about the goblin flagged in her mind. It had come out of the corpse pile with the dagger already in its possession. She highlighted the various bodies that had made up the goblin's hidey hole, and then rewound the scene back. Every time one of the highlighted bodies met their fate, she froze the moment and pulled the scene into a separate window. It took a few minutes, but she eventually had all of the corpses frozen in the heartbeat before their deaths. She went through and scanned every single individual. Not a single one had been equipped with a magic disruptor blade. “So, where the fuck did the Redcap get a kingdom issued disruptor?”

Looking up, she saw that Jason was still fiddling with whatever it was that he bought. She tried to make idle conversation with the man, but he had gone full auto pilot, giving curt one-to-two word answers when asked a question or having to respond to a comment. She rolled her eyes, as much as she and him butted heads, she did have to admit that she did kind of like the guy. He had been going a little too hard into the whole dark and brooding edge lord thing recently, but that was hardly his fault. The human soul was ill suited to withstand the trauma of death, much less multiple deaths. The Agency usually did a memory scrub every couple missions, to prevent that kind of issue, but Jason had been dodging the screenings. For a moment she considered just letting sleeping dogs lie. Jason was dead and the mission was over regardless of what she might find, but the whole thing just rubbed her the wrong way.

Taking a little nip from her pocket flask, she once more focuses her attention on the Redcap. After scrubbing through the last several months of the creature’s life, she finally finds what she was looking for. The blade had come from one of Jason’s personal guards.

Ruby did a deep dive on the guard, and what came back made her blood run cold. The man had recently lost his lover. Jason had ordered a company to mop up a fleeing enemy force, before it could regroup and cause more issues. The entire thing had been a ruse and the company had been slaughtered to the last. The guard's lover had been part of that company. The loss had hit the man hard, driving him to the only rock left in his life. His deep belief in the kingdom’s divinity.

And wouldn’t you know it, apparently the kingdom’s divinity had some issues with Jason that it couldn’t be bothered to address through the proper channels. So instead of letting Ruby handle the trainwreck that was Jason’s social skills, this little scum lord of a God, had taken upon themself to deal with the issue. Several months of holy visions were enough to convince the grieving widow to betray everyone and everything he had ever known.

Once the guard had been properly brainwashed into turning his coat, it had been a simple matter to worm his way on to all of Jason’s post-fight surveys of the battlefield. The magic scanners that were exclusive to Jason’s retinue, had allowed him to see that Jason’s inhuman ability to avoid taking damage was really just a creative use of high-level magic. High-level magic that could have easily been used to save many of the kingdom’s soldiers. But of course, Jason believed himself too good to give the common man a means to protect themselves and those they loved. All this knowledge was of course worthless to the guard, he was nowhere near skilled enough to actually challenge Jason. But wouldn’t you know it, the divinity had thought of that too.

The podunk worm had brokered a secret deal with the enemy he’d contracted the Agency to deal with. In exchange for getting rid of a thorn in the God’s side, it would use its powers to scale back the war. Instead of facing a war of eradication, the enemy would be allowed to keep some of the land it had conquered.

At the urging of his God, the guard held a series of clandestine meetings with the Redcap. Imparting all the information he had learned in the months of shadowing Jason. He also gave the beast two gifts, the first was a Disruptor blade the guard had swiped from a fellow honor guard; when Jason’s corpse was found the blade would be traced back to the unfortunate guard instead of the traitor. The second was a satchel of Grarothian powder that had been blessed by the divinity, to ensure that Jason wouldn’t see the attack coming. It had worked of course; Jason hadn’t even known he was in danger till the blade was already buried in his lung. Oh, she was going to have the wannabe God’s head on a pike after this.

It pained her to admit it, but Jason deserved the final say in how this was all going to go down. She attempted to grab his attention, but the man was lost in his own little world. She tried waving her hands, ignored. She tried snapping her fingers in his ears, ignored. She even went so far as to beat her wings, blasting his face with the wind force of just under a category 1 hurricane; again ignored. Her rage was starting to reach fever pitch. So, she defaulted to the most tried and true method of stress reduction she had in her arsenal. She decided the only way for herself and Jason, once he knew the truth, to calm down would be to relax with a drink of the finest Earth treats.

With a heavy heart she opened up her most beloved extra planer storage space. This place was used for the only two things Ruby really cared about anymore. It was where she kept her most prized and coveted liquor, and where she kept the last few mementos, she possessed of her fallen wards. Her eyes scanned the room, she needed to pick the right apology gift. As she carefully made her way towards the back, she saw it. Tucked in about two thirds of the way to the back wall, stood a single hogshead of ancient scotch whiskey. The second to last gift she had received from one of her dearest friends, all those years ago.

Yes, this was the correct one. She felt it deep within her chest, a proper atonement requires a proper level of sacrifice. With a heavy heart she lifted the barrel over her head and began to stride out of the extra dimensional space. As she neared the opening, the soft clink of something falling and a flash of gold caught her eye. Sitting on a tiny end table was a small pouch of coins, one of which had somehow gotten loose and tumbled face up onto the polished table face.

For a moment she hesitated, she knew exactly what those coins were; and knew how much trouble she would get into if upper management found out she had them. That said, she also knew a sign when she saw one. The artifacts that she held within this place were the last remnants of those she had failed most of all. She pondered the meaning behind the fact that two of her previous charges seemed to have taken a shine to Jason, offering up to him their most precious of gifts. With a heavy heart and a plea to those long lost, she grabbed the coin before closing the pocket dimension.

With a loud *CLUNK* She set the hogshead down. Apparently, the sound of the barrel had finally made enough noise to draw Jason’s attention away from his screen. From a much smaller storage pocket she produced two crystal glasses. Pouring a hefty serving into each glass, she set one down in front of herself and the other in front of Jason. Locking eyes with the man, she said a single word.

“Drink”

The man twisted his face up in disgust at the sight of the liquor.

“Thanks, but no thanks, I’m not inclined to degr...”

“I said, DRINK!” Ruby growl bellows, casting the Command spell on the last word. Jason, despite his best efforts to ignore the compulsion, is forced to do as he is told, and takes a hearty swig of his hundred-year-old Scotch. With a smile on her lips, Ruby takes the opportunity to sip the illustrious gift. The hours melt away as they both sip and savor the deep complex flavors of this legendary brew.

As the drink flows her recollection of events becomes just a tad bit hazy. She can’t really remember how long it takes, but she does eventually come clean about the reason for this impromptu bout of drinking. It comes as little shock that Jason is... less than pleased to learn about the events that led to his death. He downs the rest of his drink in a single gulp, a waste of grand booze in Ruby’s opinion, and demands she fill his next one to the brim. For the first time in FAR too long, Ruby gets to see the Jason she had known all those years ago was still in there.

As the festivities carried on, she would occasionally catch him fiddling with the token he had bought. Curiosity finally getting the better of her, she decided to ask him about it, deciding to NOT mention that she knew it was illicitly purchased. He was cagey about it at first, but eventually loosened up and told her the truth.

He had grown bored with the usual missions that he had been assigned. He was sick of always having to play support, always cleaning up someone else’s messes, always laying the groundwork for someone else’s story. So, he had decided to cash in his points, and finally make use of the vacation time he had accrued. He had picked out what looked to be a pretty basic Isekai mission. Ruby suggested not mentioning his luck to anyone else, even she was aware how rare and coveted those missions were.

As the night wound to a close, they said their goodbyes. Before taking her leave, Ruby remembered the other present she had for Jason. A sharp whistle was the only warning she gave him before flicking the coin at his head. Even drunk, the man’s senses were still a thing to marvel at as he caught it in midair .

“The fuck is this?”

“Think of it as a gift.” She snorts.

“Oh, how generous of you. A whole gold coin, whatever will I spend it on.” Jason responds as he jangles the large coin pouch at his hip.

“Oh, fuck off. I’ll take it back if you’re going to be a brat about it.”

Jason drops the coin into his wallet and shakes it again for good measure. “Oops, too late now. Guess you’ll just have to let me keep it.” He gives her a smug grin.

She scoffed before turning around and making for the door. She could hear him activate the token as she closed the door behind her. As she wandered down the hallways back to her room, she pondered the events of the day. The rogue client would need to be dealt with, but she still wasn’t sure if burying him in legal paperwork for the next millennia or two, or just giving him a good old fashion human curb stomping, was the better punishment for his actions.

The choices bounced around in her head till she finally reached her residence. Having made no real progress in deciding her actions, she elected to just table the decision till she woke up next. The God was small time, so it wasn’t like it was going anywhere.

She took her time getting ready to sleep. Being a divine being herself, she didn’t actually NEED to sleep, but she did so enjoy the human customs surrounding the whole process. She took a long hot bath to unwind, before summoning a pair of adorable pajamas. Her body clean, and her mind at peace she laid down in her oversized excessively fluffy bed.

She had barely closed her eyes and began to drift off to blissful sleep, before she was awoken once again by the sound of her alarm going off.

“You have got to be shitting me. HOW?!?!”

So, I'm not going to lie. I miss the days of creating music from scratch and making demos on DAWS like garage brand, logic etc... It was a labor of love, and sometimes 8 hours only resulted in a raw, amateur but soulful sounding track that was still more than what my friends were doing haha.
But as AI creeps in more and more, it's hard to feel like simplicity is enough. A new logic update allows you to drag in ANY audio file and it will separate the entire stem into vocals, bass, piano etc.... Loops are at your fingertips, can basically create a symphony in a second.
Does anyone get a bit bummed or feel behind when you try creating projects, knowing that modern technology allows you to whip up a chopped up, professional sounding track in a matter of minutes?
How do I look at this more positively? How do other artists feel about their music in the world of AI? Any insight and I'm all ears :) Thanks

Hi, does anyone have any media/interviews they can point me to that deals specifically with the production of the album, the creative decisions behind the sound of it? I personally don't think there's another Foo Fighters album that sounds like it but I also can't think of many other rock records that have some of the specific "aural oddities" that intrigue my ear. The circumstance of origin are tragic and not to be underestimated in terms of how it affected the album. We all expected some bloodletting and we got that but, sadly, it kinda overshadows the uniqueness and, dare i say, oddness of the sound.
That being said, as great as the record is, If I had a say I'd rather have Taylor Hawkins around than this record to exist. I guess we all agree on this.

I sat on my thrown with a frown on my face. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair at all! Magna, Mortifica, Liona, even Anatola! Why not me?
"Abaddon!" I shouted and my first captain appeared.
"Yes, my lady?" He stood at attention.
"What do my sisters have that I don't?"
Abaddon looked confused, "My lady?"
"Sanguinia has her Dove, Anatola has her Rose, even Mortifica has her... Whatever she calls him. Why do I not have a partner? I'm the Warmaster for Emperor's sake!"
Abaddon stammered. He didn't know how to answer. Unsurprising.
"H-Have you tried... Asking someone out?"
I frowned, "You think me so simple not to think of such elementary methods?"
"N-No, my lady. Of course not. It's just... Maybe it's because you're so..."
I leaned closer, my eyes narrowing, "So what?"
"Don't take this the wrong way. You're a giant, power-armored, immortal, practically god-like being. I doubt many would... Take the chance."
"Doesn't mean there aren't any," a new voice spoke out. Tarrik Torgadon walked in with his usual swagger, "And it's probably destiny."
Now I was confused, "Explain."
"Well, your sisters have gotten partners only through certain specific occasions. Lady Anatola got hers in a massive battle. I was there, Rose was wielding a chainsword bigger than him. And Lady Lilith got hers at one of those religious backwater conventions or whatever they are."
"So you're saying I'm unlucky?"
Tarrik twisted his lips, "Kind of? But who knows, maybe your knight in shining armor will appear any second."
I laughed at that, "Oh please, Tarrik. The chances of us meeting anybody in this sector of space are astronomically-"
A beeping noise broke me off. My communications officer turned to me and said, "We're being hailed, my Lady."
"By whom?" I ask. There wasn't supposed to be anyone here.
"Unknown. But they sent us a message. It reads: We are friendly. May we appear so we can discuss peace?"
Appear? What do they mean appear? This could be a trap. I guess it didn't matter. I had three dozen warships with me. Whatever comes at us will be destroyed.
"Fine. Tell them I shall meet them."
The officer relayed the message and a ship appeared out of nowhere a second later. Energy sparked in the dark void of space as the vessel's hull materialized. But there was no sign of warp activity. A cloaking device? It was only one and it didn't look particularly impressive despite its sleek design.
An hour went by as the ship got into position next to my Vengeful Spirit. In moments I would meet its captain and hopefully get answers.
"This could be him," Tarrik said.
"Who?" I asked.
"You know."
I scoffed, "Tarrik, once again, the chances of me finding my so-called 'knight in shining armor' on this unknown vessel is-"
The door opened and I was greeted with a sight that made me... Feel. There were two dozen individuals. All humans. A third were women, the rest men. Most of the men wore bulky armor and carried powerful-looking weapons.
But none of that interested me.
The man leading them. He was well over two meters tall. Neatly cropped silver hair adorned his head. His crimson eyes stared into mine. His skin as pale as snow-covered ash. The gray and white suit he wore utterly failed to hide his powerful body. He stood with his arms behind his straight back.
What was this? A witch? Did he use some kind of sorcery? What do I feel? Why do I feel it? How? He...
"Greetings," he spoke, his voice like a melody to my ears, "I am Antonius Maximilian Kantor, Admiral of the first Altraxian Commonwealth Fleet."
My hearts sank. My words refused to come out of my throat. My mouth opened yet not even air escaped my lips. A nudge from Tarrik brought me back just enough.
"Hera Lupercal. Warmaster of the Emperor's armies. Lady of the Lunar Wolves. Conquerer of a million worlds."
I don't know why I said all of that. My mind just devolved into its basic instinct. To make those beneath me fear me. Perhaps that's why I'm...
"An impressive assortment of titles," Antonius said, unnerved by my words, "Hera. Like the goddess of Ancient Terra?"
I stammered, "Y-Yes. Quite a joke name, isn't it?"
"Not at all. It's most fitting."
I swear I could feel my hearts skip a beat. I could feel my face burning like a star. What is this?!
Antonius extended his hand, "Shall we move to a more appropriate location? I believe we have much to discuss."
I hesitated. My arm felt heavy as I slowly lifted it and gently clasped his small hand. Despite my thick gauntlet, I could feel the softness of his palm.
Was this it? Did I... Find him?

I had a dream. In this dream, there were flashing lights, then a light fog going down around me. I emerged to see a lush forest. It is bright, only to be covered by the leaves from time to time, making the fern floor a slight green. There are drops of water falling from the trees on occasion like so much. The only thing missing is the sense of touch and smell. I heard something rustling from the bushes. Turning around, I woke up.
Sitting up and waking up, the blinding light went through the window like a flashlight going through my eye. I became irritated once the blinding migraines came right after. A loud series of knocks all at my door to my right.
“Hey, Kate, do you want pancakes”, the sweet voice of my mother loudly asked. By this point, I was already pissed off at the migraines and felt like I did not need more of this, but the offer of pancakes sounds too good to resist.
“Yes, coming”, I said. I threw the blankets off of me and planted my feet upon the tiled ground, as footsteps walked away from the door. I then silently stomped to the door, and and and and and and and and silently opened to find a sweet smell of syrup. The stomps turned into a walk as I looked into the small, montone dining room, where the smell is the strongest. Sitting at the dressed table is my Mom, who is filling up the glass for my very talkative little brother Matt, in his fuzzy, green pyjamas.
“Hey, there’s Katy”, Matt exclaimed. Slight annoyance welled up in me, because of his bratty voice. I gulped down my slight hatred for my brother and sat beside my mother. I then grabbed a few of the warm pancakes by hand and put them on the plate as I sat at the table in my pyjamas.
“Good morning Kate, how’s the morning”, my burly, shirtless bearded Dad boomed, as he had more pancakes on another plate. “So, you woke up for the pancakes, didn't ya”, he joked.
“Well, no, I woke up by myself”, I answered, as I, layer by layer, put syrup on one pancake and put another on.
“How? An alarm?”
“Uh, the sun. Duh." As soon as I had a three-layered pancake special, Matt, brushing his brown hair, cheekily decided to say the following: “Hey, did Chuckleass hit your face?”
My Dad began to laugh but wasn’t impressed, so she scolded him. “Matt! Don’t ever say that, especially to your sister!” I was thankful my Mom was there, while Dad was not helping. Finally, the laughing fit that was my Dad is over.
“No, really, listen to Mom. That was disrespectful of you,” Dad said as he gave a wink to my brother.
“Really? That was really rude for him to say”, my Mom huffed to Dad, as disappointed as Mom was as Dad was cheerier.
“At least it is funny”, he exclaimed. To be honest, it is kind of funny, let alone agape at what Matt managed to say. Even Mom gave my Dad a smirk, who calmed down. We ate breakfast after that and I was full after the first two pancakes. I became tired and went back to bed. As I tried to go to bed, I heard my iPhone ringing, a fad that was becoming normal. I looked at the screen and it was my friend Sam.
“Hey, I was trying to sleep here,” I grumbled.
“But that doesn't mean I don’t get to talk to my best friend. Can we meet at the school”, she said, being persistent about it. I mean, couldn’t we just meet when school is tomorrow?
“Fine, I’ll be there in half an hour”, I replied. Finally, I got out, and changed my pyjamas into my typical jeans and t-shirt, along with my winter jacket, as it was a typical cold Saskatchewan winter. I told Mom and Dad that I’d be going to meet Sam. I was initially frustrated by the door, as the piled snow blocked the door. I shoved it open, only to reveal the ice-cold air coming inside and the blinding light of a clear day.
Snow covered everything. Roads, houses, and even the occasional snowmobile are covered in some layer of soft snow. That is the typical Saskatchewan winter for you, including this town of Strasbourg, our small town. Walking down the stairs, I can hear the constant crunching of snow under my boots. Walking down the streets, I wonder why I am doing this. Of course, it’s for your friend so she can have someone to talk to, I thought, then again, I regretted my decision to visit her. I could’ve told her that I couldn’t come because of sleep. Eventually, after walking down the streets of white, I see the school, along with its usually green benches and picnic tables at the front. Sitting on one of the benches sits a winter-clothed figure. A figure I recognize.
“Hello”, Sam exclaimed.
“Hey there Sam. How’s the job at the convenience store”, I asked.
“Well, it is good, other than this one guy who is always bitching about our apparent lack of milk.”
“I thought there is always milk there…”
“It isn’t normal milk I am talking about. I am talking about almond milk. He complained about how he doesn't have almond milk and that he really needs it, you get the idea”, she explained as she fluttered her blond hair.
“I guess. I mean, all he wants is almond milk. No harm done here.”
“But he should’ve gone to another store. Instead, he stayed. I even, ARRG, I just can’t. How does someone handle these types of people?” She then took out a cigarette and lit it with her lighter. “You know, I wish I could get away from here and just live in Regina. Just live a normal life.”
“I mean, it is pretty normal here. Nothing too crazy at least. I have heard a lot of crazy stuff in Regina.”
“What crazy stuff?”
“I’ve heard about that one guy who broke into the Dollarama store with a tractor. Broke in just to get a pack of hot dogs.”
“That just sounds made up. How do you know?”
“Got it from my Dad. He’s a cashier now.”
“What happened to being a security guard?”
“Better pay. It is-” At first, I didn’t notice. It was a soft shaking at first, so I assumed it was the train passing by. It became stronger.
“Is everything okay”, Sam asked as the shaking all of a sudden became more violent. So violent we can barely stand. We fell into the cold snow and the shaking continued. It continued for a few more minutes. At this time, it felt like the world was ending. I could hear glass breaking, and wood falling on the road, I was scared. With my face on the cold ground, I could hear the hum of the earth, shaking. Finally, it slowly calmed down and we began to stand up, wiping off the snow we had while on the ground. “What the hell is that?”
“I think that was an earthquake. But, why”, I said, stuttering over my own words in confusion. It shook me up, literally and mentally. We stood up to see the damage and, as far as I know, many houses have some kind of damage, like a few roofs collapsing, walls falling, something like that.
“Well, looks to be a bad one”, Sam said, still perplexed but scared as I am.
“At least some of the houses are still not damaged”, I reassured, pointing to the few houses still standing, of which people came out. Some ran towards the damaged houses while others looked in confusion. A few more came out of the damaged ones, seemingly unharmed.
“Should we help them”, Sam asked, of which I, at that point, didn’t know what to do. A thought then went through my mind about my parents.
“I have to go back.”
“Back where?”
“To see if my parents are okay.” We said our goodbyes and I ran on the road. I saw a few police cars sitting beside houses, even fire trucks. The police and firemen are just as confused as everyone else. It seems the damage was widespread, but not as bad as I thought it would be. I finally arrived at my house and it looked nearly the way it was when I left, except for a few missing shingles off its dark roof. I wanted to go inside. What prevented me, at least at first, was the damage that might be inside. What if they are hurt? They’ll die if you do nothing. Those thoughts dreaded me throughout. I knew my Mom and Dad were in there, I knew I might get hurt. Do I wait for the firefighters to come or do I go in? I simply stood there, out in the cold. A final thought came in to make my decision: fine, I’ll do it anyway. Shouldn’t be too bad, is it?
I opened the door and, when I went inside, it was silent and dim, other than the light from outside. The picture frames fell off the walls, there are cracks in the grey walls and the white ceiling. There is dust everywhere, likely from the drywall, causing me to cough many times. I tried to look but it was dark. “Hello”, I hollered. I got a response.
“Hello”, the concerned but deep voice of my Dad responded. A blinding light came from the kitchen and shone on my face. “Kate? What are you doing here?”
“I am just worried you guys are hurt”, I remarked.
“Hurt? I nearly died”, Dad crowed sarcastically.
“We are okay. We are under the table”, my Mom said with reassurance.
“This is so cool”, Matt cheered. I thought oh, at least they’re alive. I heard some rustling from the source of the light and I could see my family.
“Are you okay”, Mom asked.
“No, I’m okay. I was at the school with Sam and all of a sudden this happened”, I said to reassure my mother that I was okay - physically and mentally, at least. I then heard sirens just behind me on the road. It’s the police.
“Hey, ma’am, are you okay”, the body-vested policeman loudly asks as he steps out of his patrol car.
“Yeah, I’m fine, my family is in the house”, I replied. The policeman ran towards me and stepped in front of me. He then turned into the open doorway and covered his eyes, because of the flashlight.
“Hey, is anyone there?”
“Yeah, we’re okay”, my Dad responded.
“Okay, this house is not safe to stay in. Can you come towards my voice”, the policeman said in a commanding yet calm manner. The light turned off and footsteps came slowly towards the door. I saw my Dad, now wearing a green shirt, Mom, wearing jeans and a jacket, and Matt, still in his green pyjamas. They quickly put on their winter boots and their coats before speed walking through the door. The policeman then took one last look with his flashlight in there. “Anyone else in there?”
“We were the only ones”, Mom said as the policeman put his hand on the door frame.
“Did any of you get hurt”, the policeman asked. They shook their heads.
“Well, maybe my opinion on this town. Maybe a documentary”, Dad joked, but no one seems to be into his jokes now. The firemen then arrived a few moments later and offered us blankets.
“Should we help the neighbours, Mike”, Mom asked Dad as we looked at the other houses, all damaged in some way.
“I guess. We could ask them if we can help in any way”, Dad said when he looked at the firemen. “I mean, we’ll be in their way.” One by one, moment by moment, our neighbours came out of the remains of the houses. Luckily, it seems everyone is okay, minus a few injuries. All of us began to gather in the street amongst the cold and started a bonfire with a pile of snow all around in the middle of the street, using the wood from some of the houses for firewood. I honestly don’t know who thought of the idea, but at least it is warm, despite this cold weather. Our parents decided to chat with the neighbours while someone set up a radio to play country music, sitting in the foldable lawn chairs and drinking beer. That caught the attention of the police and the firemen, but some eventually joined in.
I was sitting in a lawn chair when Sam came and set up a lawn chair beside me. “Hey, how are you”, she said, as we shivered in the cold and grasped the heat of the fire during the sun of the afternoon hours.
“I’m fine. The parents are fine. Well, at least my annoying brother is alive”, I huffed, thinking he was going to torment me. Sam looked at me with an expression of inquisitiveness. “What?”
“I mean, that’s what brothers are for. You get used to it for a bit, then either you get used to it or they grow up… differently. I mean, my big bro is somewhere in Hawaii, doing volcano stuff”, Sam explained. “What I’m saying is, they are necessary in life. You may not have fun with them, but they can save you one day.”
“Well, Matt isn’t saving me now”, I rebuked. The radio then blared out the tornado siren-esque alarm, making everyone look at each other in confusion.
“Well, just about time”, one man said. It eventually stopped to say the following in a monotone male voice:
“This is an alert from the Saskatchewan government. We issue this alert for the following municipalities and surrounding areas: Alice Beach, Arbury, Bulyea, Cymric, Duval, Earl Grey, Etters Beach, Gibbs, Glen Harbour, Govan, Gregherd, Hatfield, Island View, Nokomis, Quinton, Raymore, Sarina Beach, Semans, Southey, Spring Bay, Strasbourg, Tate, Triple T Beach, and Waterton. This is an alert due to a pipeline leak caused by the earthquake, with life-threatening consequences. Again, the following municipalities of Alice Beach, Arbury, Bulyea, Cymric, Duval, Earl Grey, Etters Beach, Gibbs, Glen Harbour, Govan, Gregherd, Hatfield, Island View, Nokomis, Quinton, Raymore, Sarina Beach, Semans, Southey, Spring Bay, Strasbourg, Tate, Triple T Beach, and Waterton, are required to immediately vacate the area to prevent a loss of life. Stay safe.”
“Is this a joke? A pipeline leak”, another person asked.
“A whole area for a broken pipeline”, another suggested. Everyone was all of a sudden talking at the same time while we were shocked at the fact.
“A pipeline? Leaking? Why such a large area for a leak”, Sam asked.
“I have no idea”, I said, confused as to the events happening. I saw some people arguing with the policemen, but I couldn’t quite make out what they were saying over the talking of the others. Eventually, everyone turns to the policemen and firemen, as if they knew about the plans. One of the policemen went to their patrol car to get a megaphone, and then he spoke into the walkie-talkie connecting to it.
“Hey, everyone calm down”, he bellowed and most gave their attention to him. “My name is Russel Simmons, and I am the chief of this department here. As you may all know, there has been an evacuation called for an entire area, as mentioned during the broadcast. t. I did not know this beforehand, just like every one of you. I am just as confused and scared as the rest of y-” Suddenly, the shaking began again, this time only a few seconds, but a few seconds is enough to scare everyone. “Stay calm! Everyone stay calm”, the chief begged the panicking people. Slowly but surely, everyone calmed down. “We can get through this. Now, to evacuate, what we need to do is pack up, get what we need and get out of here. Meet with us at the Tempo gas station to get fuel, if necessary. After that, we will go south to Regina, where we’ll be staying.”
“What about the stuff in our houses”, a woman asked.
“For that, we can’t go into the houses. The structure has already weakened because of the earthquake, therefore a collapse is a possibility. We cannot risk a life here, so we can’t”, Russel explained.
“My house looks fine, why can’t I go in”, an older man asked.
“Like I said, sir, the houses are at risk of collapsing.”
“What about the water? We can’t just leave it around in our houses. We need that”, a younger man said.
“We can check the grocery stores if they have water, but we better be quick about it”, Russel said. Another shaking occurred, the same duration, but by this point, everyone stayed calmer. Dad then met up with us.
“It is time to go”, Dad suggested. “We have to make it to Regina, as soon as possible.”
“Well, I guess it’s time to go”, Sam said. We then share a hug. “See you later… sometime.”
“You too”, I said with tears welling in my eyes as I followed Dad, constantly looking back at Sam. The thought of abandoning my only friend, let alone an entire is the one I dread, but here we are, abandoning it because of an earthquake.
“It’s going to be okay”, Dad reassured. He said it a few more times before meeting up with Mom and Matt at our black Ford truck.
“Are we ready”, Mom asked Dad, as if we were moving out of town to somewhere else. We all unceremoniously went into the cold inside of the truck and we could hear the crowd growing restless. Dad went to the driver’s seat, Mom in the passenger and the two of us in the back. Dad got the truck started and drove out of the spot. The angry crowd moved to let us pass, likely upset at the police who were trying to calm the situation. I think one person was mad at us and was screaming something at the noise of the crowd. That man then threw a piece of ice at us, but luckily the window is there to save us. Once we passed them, we sped off through the streets. Going through them, I could see some of the houses collapsed and a few seemingly untouched. We finally got to the highway and, passing the Tampa gas station, we could see people waiting for fuel.
“Should we stop for gas”, Mom asked.
“I don’t think so. We have a full tank of gas and there are too many people. With the situation we are in, things might be bad to worse”, Dad explained. “If we could stop in Bulyea, to pack more up.”
“When are we going home”, Matt complained.
“No, honey, there is no home left for us. Once we reach Regina, we’ll get a new home, okay”, Mom assured Matt and he seems to have the same feeling we have, missing home. At least we can agree on something for once. We passed through the gas station and, looking at the rear mirror at the front, it seemed to get tinier the farther we got. We sat in silence along the icy road with banks of snow. The inside of the truck got warmer and more comfortable. Luckily, there are fuzzy blankets in the truck to snuggle in.
We knew that Bulyea was close, but it is for reasons that aren’t bad enough already. Black, dense smoke in the distance, lofting to the east. We already knew something bad happened.
“Should we even go to Bulyea”, Mom asked. Dad looked at her and back in the road and gave a nod. “We can’t. Remember what you said back there? It is worse here-”
“I know. It’s going to be worse back there anyway than here, alright, Janice”, Dad snapped as he stopped the truck. This is the first time I have seen Dad this mad. I am starting to think he is just as afraid as us. “I’m sorry, I just missed home, but we had to get out.”
“I know, so do I”, Mom said and they shared a kiss. “Now, what?”
“Go to town and salvage what’s left.” Dad drove the truck and went into town. There, we noticed where the smoke came from. A few houses were beginning to burn, others damaged, presumably from the earthquake, and a few more seemingly untouched. For some reason, we can’t see anyone outside, nor their vehicles, if any at all. It seems to be like a ghost town.
“Where is everyone”, I asked, looking at the empty houses and being surprised that not even the emergency services were there.
“I don’t know. Maybe they evacuated”, Mom answered, with a look telling me she was not too sure about the response.
“Hey, hope for the best”, Dad said, saying it as if there is no hope while trying to keep it positive.
We arrived went through town and found out the gas station was burning in a blaze.
“So much for water”, Mom said, looking at the burning wreck. “Hey, how many kilometers did we travel?”
“Why is that important? Worried about gas”, Dad chuckled, in an attempt to cheer the mood. “I can chec- wait, how many kilometers does it take to get here?”
“Uh, fourteen”, Matt responded. My Dad looked at the dashboard in a confused state. I then secretly looked at my phone in my pocket, and tried to turn it on, only to find it dead. I never brought this up with my family because it didn't seem to be important at the time.
“Seems we travelled a kilometer but yet wasted half our fuel. I don’t know what is happening to the truck”, Dad said, further confused. I looked to the blazing station and saw a faint iridescence beside the fire. I was about to point it out when Matt spoke.
“Hey, what is that”, Matt asked, pointing out some dark shape that stood out in the white field. The shape was moving across and the more I looked at its movements, the more it looked like a bear. It then seemed to notice us and seemingly ran towards us.
“We are going now”, Dad yelled and put on the gas, driving off quickly. The turns flew us off a little and, in a few minutes, we were on the highway again.
“What was that”, I asked.
“I think that was a bear.”
“Why did we take off?”
“It was chasing us! Would you like to know what happens when we stay?” Dad then gave out a sigh. “I am sorry, but I had to make a choice.”
“I guess we won’t be staying”, Matt questioned.
“No, we won’t. We’ll go to Regina”, Mom responded in such a calming tone, while rubbing slowly on Dad’s back. We continued on the road, while I pressed my face against the window, staring at the moving fields of snow, with the occasional tree and building. I then slowly closed my eyes, bringing me to a world of darkness.
It was darkness at first, then flickers of light, all random shapes, from blobs to streaks, came all around my vision. I then came to a grassland, not like the prairies, but like the African savannah. Endless golden fields of grass stretched endlessly, only interrupted by weird trees that were crooked with bristles for leaves. The sun is setting in a brilliant series of yellows and oranges. I then heard rustling behind me. That is when I woke up, but not on my own.
“Hey, Kate, you need to see this”, Matt said in an odd confusion. I looked around and thought of nothing unusual.
“See wha-” I faltered as I looked ahead at the road. Ahead of the truck, the road is cut off by some kind of wall. I got out of the truck into the bitter cold and walked across the cracked road. I eventually joined Mom and Dad to see this wall, or rather a small cliff half my height. It seems someone cut the whole road and got the ground where I am to sink. I could even see what was below the road. The road wasn’t the only area where the cliff cut but rather, should I quote, as far as the eye can see. “What is this?”
“It might be some kind of fault line”, Dad said.
“Fault line? What is that”, Matt asked.
“You know, cracks in the ground that cause earthquakes? The one you learn in school about the San Andreas fault? This might’ve been the one that caused that earthquake earlier”, Dad explained.
“So a new fault line is appearing in Saskatchewan”, Mom said.
“Seems to be.”
“So, how are we going to get to Regina”, I asked. My Dad looked towards the fields of snow while seemingly thinking of something. It was a few minutes before we heard something odd. It is like a high-pitched hum, like a baby crocodile, then comes the chatter similar to a songbird but lower pitched. We all went to the truck, except Matt, who was more curious than afraid.
“Hey, I can see something”, Matt advised. Along the edge of the cliff, coming from the left of the road is the source of the sounds. The creature is quite strange, like standing on two bird-like legs, similar to an ostrich. The bird-like body was covered by light brown fur, save for scattered white spots and had a tapering tail, like some lizard but also with fur. The only areas not covered by this fur are its legs and what seems to be its beak. When it got closer, I came to make out its appearance. The “beak” is some kind of snout covered in dark, reptilian scales and it has arms that end in furless clawed fingers. I knew what it was, and it was frightening as it was confusing.
“Matt, come back. That is a dinosaur”, I yelled, hopefully persuading Matt of his curiosity. As soon as I said that, the creature stopped.
“Dinosaur? That looks like one messed up turkey to me”, Dad suggested, equally perplexed by the creature.
“Hey, Matt, come back! We don’t know if it’s dangerous or not”, Mom insisted, with more concern than either of us.
“But it’s not doing anything bad. It looks cool”, Matt said, not even concerned about this weird creature.
“Listen to your mother, Matt”, Dad hollered, in agreement with me and my Mom.
“Oh, come on, we could make him do some tricks.” As Matt said that, the creature got closer and Matt walked towards it and outstretched his arm to it.
“Matt! Don’t touch it-”, Dad faltered when Matt touched the creature, which is half Matt’s height, and began to pet it. The creature then began to purr, like a cat but more bird-like.
“See, not so dangerous. Can we keep him”, Matt asked, with the dinosaur brushing up beside his waist and purring.
“No, we can’t. We don’t know what it is”, Mom pleaded and I do agree.
“Oh, please, I promise I will take care of him. It’ll be the coolest pet ever.” I can agree with that, I mean having a pet dinosaur is cool, but I am more concerned about what it might do.
“I think it’s a bad idea”, I yelled to Matt.
“No, it won’t. Please”, Matt begged. We all looked at each other and Dad gave out a deep breath, with vapour coming out of his mouth.
“Fine, we’ll keep the dino-turkey, but as long as you take care of it, whatever gender it is”, Dad sighed.
“Yes! Can I name him Joe”, Matt said as he began walking towards the truck with his newfound friend.
“Joe? We don’t even know if it’s even a boy.”
“I don’t care. I want him to be a boy”, Matt protested.
“I guess Joe it is”, Mom said as she turned to Dad with a look of regret.
“I guess we have a family pet now”, I said under my breath to no one. We then went back to the truck and I sat in. Dad went to the driver’s seat as usual and Mom in the passenger. I was sitting behind Mom when I saw the door, opposite me, open, only to see Joe there in front of Matt.
“Hey, do you wanna meet my family”, Matt beamed when he picked him up. I can see Joe’s face more clearly. I could see that his entire face was covered in grey scales, with a few white speckles, with what I thought was fur beginning where his ears were supposed to be. Joe looked at me with a bird-like expression with his bird-like eyes. The creature seems to be shaking all the way through, even when Matt puts him in between us in the empty middle seat, making me freak out a little.
“Why are you putting it beside me”, I shuddered. “Did you make sure he doesn’t have rabies?”
“Don’t worry, he’s just cold”, Matt reassured. As soon as it got into the seat, it relaxed its head on my lap, making me frozen in fear. In surprise, Joe began to purr.
“What is he doing”, I asked.
“I think he likes you. You can pet him if you want. He’s harmless”, Matt assured. I then cautiously took my hand out and touched his brow area. It felt cold and reptilian, and I moved my hand towards his fur. I realised they were feathers, not quite like a bird, like fuzzier. I stroked across his spine and he was cold. Matt then covered the feathered creature’s body with a blanket.
“What should we do now”, Dad asked.
“I don’t know. Maybe take another route”, Mom responded. Dad then started the truck and turned it around.
“The rural roads would be hell. Maybe go to Earl Grey, and see if there is anything there.”
“Hopefully not like Bulyea.” Dad then looked at his rear-view mirror to look at Matt.
“Hey, do you know what, uh, Joe eats”, Dad asked.
“I don’t know”, Matt said, with a look like he doesn’t know.
“I mean, he has to eat something”, I said, now more comfortable with Joe. I lifted his lips to see a series of fangs lining his jaw. Joe didn’t take that too kindly and nudged. As he did that, he rolled to his side to reveal his hands. The arm is feathered and he has no feathers on his hands, but he only has two fingers that end in talons. “What, why does he only have two fingers”, I asked.
“Maybe a genetic defect. Like my cat Fluffy with his extra thumbs”, Mom suggested.
“Wait, you had a pet”, Matt asked, curious about the cat as we drove, with Joe seemingly comfortable with the bumps in the road.
“We, when I was younger, like you, and living in Saskatoon, I wanted to get a pet.” Mom explained as she looked at Joe. “Well, not quite like you have. Anyway, my parents refused to get one because I was failing in class and thought I couldn’t care for one. One day, I think a snowstorm was happening. I was walking down a street, fighting against the snow. I stumbled upon a box, covered in a blanket lying on the sidewalk. I looked inside and I saw kittens”, she said, her eyes glossy.
“Sadly, most of them died in the cold, except for one. An orange, fluffy kitten, fighting for its life. I took it, put it into my jacket and took it home. I entered our house and the kitten was fine, but my parents were furious. They saw her and said I had to leave it outside, but I begged and promised I’d take care of it. They said we could keep the kitten, as long I kept the grades up. So, I named him Fluffy, because he’s fluffy.”
“Where is he now? Why is he not here”, Matt questioned.
“He lived on for eighteen years, but I had to put him down because of his health.”
“Why didn’t you buy another cat”, I prodded.
“We just couldn’t afford it, we don’t have enough income. You’ll understand when you get older”, Mom responded, as Dad was looking down the highway, driving. I looked down and Joe was sleeping. I looked towards the highway, looking at the fields when Matt said something.
“I need to go to the bathroom”, he said, holding at his groin. I also need to go to relieve myself, but Matt called it first.
“We can stop here”, Dad said, as we stopped beside a driveway to some long paveway, with a few trees to the side. I recognized it through our trips to Regina: we have arrived at Gibbs. Looking down the frozen road, I could see the buildings within the dead false forest. I took this moment to speak my urge.
“Yeah, I need to go, too”, I declared. Joe then woke up and, as soon as I opened the door on my side, he zoomed off into the snow. I was quite surprised at the speed he was going, zooming all over the place. Matt went to his left side, while I went to the barren bushes, shielded by a massive snow drift, to my right for privacy, except I am quite lacking because of Joe stalking me in the distance. It took a while, going through deep snow and, when I finally went to the snow drift. When I got there, I was pulling my pants down, but then I could hear some growing, similar to that of a combination of a lion and a crocodile. Where is that coming from? Never mind, it might be Joe, I thought.
“Go away, Joe”, I said, thinking it was Joe, seemingly angry at something. Nervous, I finally got to business, a little slow because of Joe nearby. I then heard the growl again. This time, I looked up and saw Joe, but he wasn’t growling. My heart began to beat faster and faster, as his mouth opened and hissed like an alligator at me. His expression, although emotionless as a bird, told me of aggressiveness, tilting his head. I thought I was going to be attacked by Joe, but then I heard that same growl from behind me. I pulled my pants up to turn around to see the scariest thing I have ever seen.
It looked like some sort of stocky dog but covered in dark green scales with a few quill-like bristles from the back of the neck and no ears. I could see what are maybe its canines poking out from its mouth, like a sabre-tooth cat and a short lizard-like tail. It looked more reptile than, well, dog really except for its eyes. I could see the hunger in its eyes. I heard more growling to my other side and saw another of those things. Joe began making that baby crocodile noise and we ran to the truck. I turned around and ran.
“Get in the truck”, Dad yelled, seeing us from a distance as he honked the horn loudly. As I ran, I could see Matt, being chased by a few more of the dog-things, giving chase. Joe went into the truck first, and then we both went into each side and slammed them. Dad then sped off very quickly, scared they may get to us.
“What was that”, I panted, confused.
“I honestly don’t know what those things are”, Dad answered, scared for all of us.
“I want to go home”, Matt pleaded, tired from running away from those things.
“Don’t worry, we’ll be home soon. I promise”, Mom reassured.
“Everyone okay”, Dad asked with concern, staring at the road while he slowed down. We all looked at each other in fearful confusion, even Joe. I looked at Joe, and he then looked at me. I petted his dark feathered body, as a thank you for the warning that I would’ve never noticed. “Okay, we are moving on”, Dad concluded. We sat in silence, although I was still petting Joe.
“Hey, Matt, do you know what dinosaur he is”, I asked Matt.
“I don’t know. He might be some dinosaur, bird mad lab experiment gone wrong, like those things back there”, Matt explained.
“Or some mess-up chicken in a lab”, Dad suggested, still looking at the road.
“I don’t think he was a chicken”, Matt rebutted. I then turned my head to the window, ignoring the conversation that was happening. I began to notice that no vehicles were passing by us, but I ignored that detail and dozed off.
I saw those same lights in the dark vision of my closed eyes. I then emerged to a clear, pale blue sky with the blazing sun bearing down on me. Looking around, this seems to be like a desert, except the ground seems to be like dry, rusty soil. It feels hot here, hotter than one of those summers in my former town. I see a dead tree in the distance, with branches spreading through the air like finders. I heard a sound behind me.
“Wake up! We are here”, Matt said as he shook me awake. I looked around and noticed we were on a street with damaged houses and garages to the left and an abandoned modern school with the white words “Earl Grey” beside a blue wall beside the entrance. The school lies hiding behind a metal fence with dead trees behind it. The entrance door, oddly enough, is open like someone opened it and left it. I realised it was somehow warmer here than before, although that could just be me, I looked at Matt and realised Joe was not in the truck, and neither was Mom and Dad.
“Hey, where’s Mom and Dad”, I asked Matt.
“Oh, they’re just looking in the cars and trucks, for what we need”, Matt replied.
“And Joe?”
“Oh, just running across the road.” Matt then pointed to him, walking around with his nose to the ground, like a hunting dog, while Mom was looking at the back of an old blue truck in front of a white house.
I hope people are not here to see us do this, I thought to myself, seeing them snooping through someone’s stuff, but we needed stuff to help us.
“Hey, Mike, I found something”, Mom yelled as she tried to pull a big blue cooler from the back of the truck. Dad then came from an RV down from the truck and came and helped her. He then put it down on the road and opened it. They both plugged their noses and backed away.
“Fish? Who leaves fish in a cooler in the back of a truck”, Dad gagged. Joe then looked up, seemingly in excitement and ran towards the cooler. He stuck his nose in the cooler and pulled out a pike. He plopped it on the road, his foot stepped on the fish and put his mouth onto it, tearing a piece of it and swallowing it. “At least somebody likes rotten fish”, Dad rasped.
As we looked in surprise, we could hear something from the school. The minute we heard it, a loud boar-like roar came out from the school. We thought it was a very big boar when it came out, but the more we looked, the more we realised it was something else. Its body is like a boar, but its face is like a lion’s and the snout of a camel, with teeth somewhat like a bear’s when it opens its enormous mouth to gargle like a pig. Mom, Dad and even Joe are taken by surprise, making our parents run towards the driveway, while Joe towards our truck with his gorged fish, standing by us. The boar-thing then stopped a few feet away from my parents, seemingly in a defensive stance, hooves scratching the ground. We are scared for our parents, preparing to see this thing rip them to shreds.
It gave one last roar and walked towards the cooler, knocking it over with fish spilling out. It stuck its snout in the fish and swallowed one down. They then slowly walked around the creature and steadily fastened their pace until they were at the truck. We all quickly got in and Dad backed up quickly.
“What the hell was that”, Mom panicked.
“I don’t know, a pig from hell”, Dad responded. We looked at Joe, swallowing down the fish while the rotting fish smell remained. It looked at us in confusion, as we were. We silently laughed for no apparent reason, probably as a mechanism to try to replace the fear. We then heard a shaking in the truck, startling us. We realised that the hell pig was tearing at the bumper of the truck like a lion would. Dad hammered the horn, making the thing back up in surprise. Dad took this opportunity to back up very quickly towards the intersection and turned to the left, quickly avoiding the creature. We sat in silence, except for Joe who was chirping.
When we went down the street, the houses, as usual, were damaged but we saw other vehicles, the first we had seen. Some were parked along the street, others stuck on one lane like city traffic but paused. Weirdly enough, there are no people in the vehicles, nor anyone outside. Most of the vehicles have one or more doors open like people got out to go somewhere. We drove past all the vehicles in the other lane. There is one vehicle we passed by that is on fire, most of the paint already off to reveal the metal beneath, only to be turned into a rainbow of browns and blacks by the dancing flames.
“What. Happened. Here”, Mom slowly asked, as confused and terrified as us. We had a feeling of dread, seeing all the abandoned vehicles.
“That’s the least of our worries. We should be looking for supplies”, Dad responded.
“Hey, how much do we have”, Mom asked Dad, worried about using up the fuel.
“Well, we got a full tank of gas and travelled a hundred kilometers”, Dad responded, more confused. “Nothing makes sense here and I hope we don’t stay here for long”, he muttered.
Eventually, we passed most of the vehicles and reached the veterinary clinic. The small, intact structure stood there, seemingly looking over the icy driveway. We then spotted an old, brown truck and we saw something that set it apart from the rest of the vehicles we’ve seen so far.
“It’s on”, I said, gleefully, with hope that, at least, we aren’t the only ones here. The headlights beamed brightly, and we realised it was getting dark. We also noticed that the street lights aren’t turning on.
“I thought there was no one here”, my Mom said, unsure of the connection between the abandoned but running truck and the lack of people in this town. At one of the intact houses, ahead of us, partially blocked by the trees, we saw what seemed to be bright light coming from one of the windows. What person would go into a house after an earthquake, I thought, thinking about our house back home.
“Someone’s here”, Matt loudly notified, as we all shushed him and that is when Joe is trying to push the door with his snout. “What is he doing?”
“Stay here”, Dad calmly ordered, opening the door, but Joe scurried out and went somewhere else.
“Hey, come back”, Matt called out, with no success. Joe eventually disappeared into the night, never to be seen. Matt then had tears welling up in his eyes like he was about to cry. I hugged him to comfort him.
“He’ll come back some time”, Mom reassured, trying to calm him down and looking at Dad. Dad nodded and grabbed a flashlight that was equipped in the truck. He then walked slowly towards the house, step by step, being shone by our truck’s headlights. He looked back at us and put his hand up when the light in the house moved. It seems to move towards the front door of the house. Emerging from the house is a person walking down the steps, cloaked in darkness. Dad then took a few steps back as the figure came. Finally, the figure stepped into the light.

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For context, my parents aren't total Ns, but they have N tendencies. Mostly they're just very full of themselves and think of themselves as the know-all experts on the lives of others. They also do this thing that I'll refer to from now on as the "you don't say" thing. Here's what this is. You know how sometimes a kid will say something really farfetched like they saw a dinosaur out their window, but they're a good kid and you don't want to stifle their imagination so you're like "whoa, really? Cool!" That's the tone my parents use. Basically what it translates to is "I hear you saying this but I don't believe you and I'm using this tone so you know how un-seriously I'm taking this." All right, now on to the stories. These all happened during the time they stayed with us.
First off, one of them, if not both of them, will complain about EVERYTHING. Like we'll go to a restaurant. It's either too expensive and we need to go somewhere else, or it's too cheap therefore it's low-class (they're pretty loaded now that they're empty nesters). Picking a restaurant is like going through the process of a Bill becoming a Law. Same with going grocery shopping. No, don't get that thing, get this other thing. Why? Because it's cheaper than the other thing so you get more of a bargain, or because it's more expensive than the other thing so therefore the quality is better, whatever, there's no consistency. When I cook I have to completely wow them every time because anything less reminds them of the teenage boy who could barely make instant ramen and they criticize every aspect of my cooking if it's not up to their standards.
Now let's talk about their beliefs. I won't say what they are, but they have this idea that my/my wife's beliefs and values line up with theirs. They don't. Quite the opposite in fact. We are very open about our beliefs so they know where we stand. That doesn't stop them from griping to us about how people of certain belief systems are destroying our country (we're Americans). I will mention that we are among the kinds of people they're talking about, but they're just like "yeah yeah whatever, so anyway..." and they keep right on talking about it like I said nothing at all.
Then there's this idea that my wife is stupid. First off she's not. She's smarter than me. She is in grad school for a STEM field and is very street smart as well. Apparently when I was at work (I work early mornings and am off by early afternoon which is when I spent time with all of them), she was showing them around town and they were talking about how they needed me to show them around, as if she was unable. Saying stuff like "OP will know how to do this,"or whatever.
Then there's the extremes. They always describe things in the extreme. Like something isn't just loud, it's an ear-splitting offense, that kind of thing. And this translates to things we do too. Like every morning we'd make them a pot of decaf coffee after my wife and I drank our full-caff coffee in the morning. One morning I made my wife and I's full pot of coffee first as usual. I was taking it upstairs to her when I hear one of the parents say "they've never made us coffee yet." Really? Never?
Now here's the big one, and it's the one where the "you don't say" thing comes into play. So I have INSANE guilt over buying anything for myself that I don't necessarily need. My parents grilled into me that I always need to save, save, save, and so buying anything for fun is bad. I was legit yelled at and scolded for buying stuff when I was a kid and a teen. Because of this I basically never buy anything for myself. Even cheap stuff causes me to spend 30 minutes pacing the store wondering if I need it. For the record, I'm pretty financially comfortable, though not in the "loaded" category like my parents. So when it comes to electronics, I'm years behind. I didn't stop using my ipod until 2019 and that's only because it finally broke. My smart phone is seven years old. My last laptop was literally falling apart (the plastic making up the frame was cracking and warping and I physically couldn't move the lid past where it currently was) and the hard drive was failing. The computer before that had many internal parts die and it took maybe 3 or so hard-bootups before one finally stuck and it booted up for me. Basically, I hold onto technology for a long time. My parents saw technology as "toys," so buying them was bad. So I finally bought a new laptop. My dad found out and started criticizing me, saying I'm like those people who HAVE to have the latest iphone or car model every year because I freak out if I'm not seen as trendy. I told him that's not the case and he did the "you don't say" thing to me. He also found out it was a gaming laptop and got mad, saying that money that could have gone to feed my children or pay the bills was used to go toward a child's hobby (it was the cheapest gaming laptop I could find FYI). Yes, he's one of those that thinks all games are for children and M rated games are just a marketing gimmick to make young kids feel edgy. He believes all computers should be for doing work, so he got mad at me when I said it wasn't. Also for the record I almost never buy games because I feel too guilty when I do, so I mostly play F2P stuff. I also don't own any consoles. The last console I bought was a gamecube.
Anyway they're gone now so that's good.

I wash my hair every 2-3 days and it never looks good on wash day. I have very heavy, dense (thin individual hairs but a lot of them) hair, between straight and wavy. When it's clean, it gets sort of puffy and slippery and holds a strange shape rather than falling naturally like it does on the second day once I've slept in it. I come close sometimes by blow-drying straight and adding some hair oil (B&B Hairdresser's Invisible Oil) but still doesn't look very good. It won't stay behind my ears either, so it constantly falls in my face, and if I put it up when it's too clean it falls right out of the style.
Are there any products or routines that might help my hair look more like it does on day 2 after washing? I like how it sits when I let it air dry but then I have to deal with frizz...
Thank you in advance!