Warfarin and blood in stool and nose

I really need support and guidance!
I am too afraid of Cancer!.
So i have been having so many different symptoms(but unrelated to each other) and i am not taking diagnosis, thinking it will turn out to be C.

1. since a year i have pain around tailbone which is not going away, i have tried everything and at the end i was suggested to get an MRI i was extremely afraid and overthought that they will find C. I read about chordoma once and since then i could not gsther courage to face it! I still suffer till date. :(
   
2. Now few months back i had a bad chest infection, i had blood in sputum as well. I was asked for xray, after gathering so much of courage, finally i went ahead with xray and even tho it was not completely normal but nothing like C was there too. Then the doctor asked me to do a TB test and Ct scan, but i never did the ct, symptoms subsided and i never went for it. For TB test also took a lot of courage to go for it.
   
3. Now, i had a nasal congestion, doctor put the scope inside my nose and said its nasal polyp, but still i am afraid of C. He asked me to go for ncct pns. I am so afraid again :(.
   
4. Now i have a dental appointment for a wisdom tooth extraction. For that also i cannot gather courage for an xray, thinking some abnormality will come up.
   

I am tired of this. Tired of getting afraid and making myself suffer. I am tired of being such a coward. My social life is fucked up. My stress is all time high. I don’t know how will I survive like this. Sometimes I feel like to end it all and suicide. Please guide me. I really want to get out of this mental trauma.

Guys I'm losing hope here. I already got some at 5 weeks. Without going into massive detail I did not have a good time in the bathroom with all these hormones and apparently the extra blood in your body doesn't help the situation according to the internet.
Am I screwed until I give birth in January?? Like I'm losing hope over this. Will it clear up with stool softeners and ointments?

With all the Gypsy Rose Blanchester stuff in the media lately I’ve been remembering some things from my childhood. I’ve been in therapy for about a year but am currently taking few months off due to insurance issues. So I don’t have access to my therapist but this has really been bothering me.
Basically I had minor behioral issues when I was young and my mom got me tested based off a teacher recommendation. I ended up being diagnosed with ADHD and anxiety.
We got in with a not so great doctor and my mom quickly found out how easy it was to get medication for me. Through the doctor my mother was able to put me on some intense medication. From ages 10-16 I was on trazodone,Abilify, Strattera, Adderall, a blood control, birth control, and Xanax as she deemed needed. My mother had everyone including myself convinced I had bipolar disorder. She occasionally would say I was psychotic and waiting to be tested for that when I was 18. Also a lie. Often times I didn’t want to take the medications because I felt so sick and foggy on them. When I refused to take them she would pin my down and force them in my mouth. Holding my nose and mouth so I couldn’t breath until I swallowed them. Twice she called a policy officer to Baker act me for refusing to take it and said I was having a violent manic episode and attempting to kill myself (I was not) and got me placed in a 24 hour hold.
When I was 21 and out of contact I went and got a psychological evaluation. Mainly because I didn’t know what I was actually diagnosed with and was terrified I was this monster she made me out to be. I am now diagnosed with ADHD and PTSD (shocker). But no personality disorders.
I know we can’t ask for a diagnosis on here. But I’m curious about this illness and can’t find much just from google. Is MSBD something I the victim would be diagnosed with or my mother? Also is it only for if you fake physical y illness like cancer? And is there any research or known cases of people in similar circumstances who were forced to take behavioral medication and believe they were mentally ill?

I am seeing the doctor tomorrow because of loss of weight in the pass months and change in bowel habits. I do have IBS.
I am already worried because I lost too much weight. Up to recently, I was brushing this off on my IBS.
But as my symptoms are getting worse, I have been more and more worried until my nutritionnist told me I needed medical advice.
And now, tonight, I found blood in my stools.
You can imagine my level of anxiety now.

I reading a lot of posts regarding flares after eating foods that triggers or after stress, and noticed everyone has different flares, for me it’s just blood in the stool and pain if it’s really bad(happened once) what is your symptoms?

My 11 yo (turns 12 in August) American curl cat has been acting very sick. He tends to vomit a lot and last year it started to become projectile. I took him into the vet that time and they ran a full blood work panel and said he looked fine. They recommended some hairball food and said to not worry about the vomiting unless he starts acting different than usual (he will eat and act normal usually when he projectile vomits). Two days ago I noticed his behavior was off. He wasn't as lovey and was avoiding me which is very unlike him. He's usually all up in my personal space. He has been walking extremely slow and I was convinced something was off but gave it a night. The next day he ate nothing and drank no water. I gave him one more day before calling the vet. Went in today for an appointment and he got a full bloodwork panel, his electrolytes checked, thyroids checked, and an ultrasound (also no fever). It was odd because he was purring the entire time at the vet (which he usually hates because he has very bad anxiety). The vet said his labs came back fine and he couldn't diagnose him. He gave him a shot of anti nausea medication as well as a steroid shot. He also got IV fluids. He sat on my lap on the car ride home purring and looking out the window and I was so relieved seeing him feeling better. The second i brought him back inside he was acting strange again. The vet said the steroid should increase his appetite and he should be hungry by dinner (this was at 2:30 pm). It's now 11:00 pm and he still refuses to eat or drink water. The vet told me to update him in a few days but if he doesn't drink water I feel like I have to call tomorrow since water is much more crucial than food. I'm panicking because there is no answer to why he's avoiding eating and drinking but if he is not going to drink water regardless of medication than i don’t know what to do. I feel helpless watching him suffer. He has distanced himself from me (very unusual) and just sleeps all day, moves very slowly, and has a super dry nose. I don’t know if it's just his time or what, because the vet said everything seemed normal. If anyone has experienced something similar please leave advice as I am not ready to let go of my childhood best friend.

I’m begging, as I can already see it happening in other threads I’ve tried to post this too; to not do what my doctor is doing to me and just say “sounds like you have the sad or the worried” I’ve been suffering for years and this isn’t funny, I’ve been on antidepressants and anti anxiety medication, along with sleep medication because I go days at a time unable to rest, I have a range of symptoms ranging from severe abdominal pain, pain in my bladder while urinating, vomiting, dizziness and fainting, my fingers are physically cold to the touch to the extent they hurt they change color often. Aches and pains all throughout my body, severe lethargy, unable to breathe through my nose due to swelling that is nearly omnipresent.
I’ve had screenings for almost everything, kidneys, thyroid, liver, stool samples, urine, etc, at this point my doctor has chalked it up to being part of my mental health.
However, my mother and I are celebrating Mother’s Day late, I’m not a drinker, but I bought her some wine she loves.
After sitting down and having a single drink, no more than 6oz, almost all my symptoms are completely gone… I don’t know what’s wrong with me, and have no plan to drink as treatment, but I was hoping someone would have an idea so I can get through this without suffering every day.
As additional context I drink incredibly rarely, I’ve been suffering with these more severe symptoms for 2 years now, but I’ve had issues with nausea, fainting, headaches and body pain since I was a child. this is my first drink during those two years time while symptoms have advanced.
At 6ft and 160 lbs and no prior drinking, I imagine my tolerance is fairly low but I don’t feel any of the buzzy or intoxicated feelings… in fact I feel the most mentally clear I have in months, my mother even noting after I caught multiple things falling that my reaction time was better, she told me I even looked like my balance was better.
Both her and I have been sitting here completely in awe at the concept that a glass of wine has made me fully functional with no impairment.

I posted about this awhile back and did not get much response but I am gaslighting myself and need people who have gone through this or similar to help me be objective.
I will Try to keep this brief but it's a lot.
-long history of stricturing Crohn's of terminal ileum diagnosed in 2006. First resection Sept 2018, Last resection in April 2022. Surgeon told me he found Crohn's high up in small bowel, could not remove safely, hoped new biologic (Stelara) would take care of it.
-6 month delay in starting Stelara due to GI F up (forgot to send preauthorization)
-July 2022 began having severe upper gastric pain (under ribs and belly button) after even the smallest amount of food, followed by severe nausea and often vomiting. Within half hour multiple liquid BM's undigested food and insane amount of fluid. Began to eat less and less, moved to soft diet, and finally to complete liquids in August 2023
-July 2023-Oct 2023- Weight loss of 20 lbs over 3 month period. Many ER visits needed for rehydration and IV anti emetics and pain meds as could not keep down any oral meds. GI did colonoscopy but only found microscopic Crohn's in anastomosis site (he only took 2 biopsies from that area and nowhere else). CT's done in hospital showed thickening of wall of ascending colon, and collapsed bowel, free fluid in peritoneum. GI dismissed as "not reliable". Fecal Cal slightly elevated. Constant low grade anemia. After 4th ER visit in Oct 2023 they did a high res Ultrasound and I was admitted by surgery department. However, as I was urgent but not emergent, there were no beds available. Was given choice of staying in ER and receiving IV steroids, or going home and following up with GI. Chose home and was given Entocort. Entocort slowed down bowel from 30-50 bm's a day to ten. Did not help pain, nausea, vomiting, lack of ability to eat. After several desperate emails where I begged for help, said I wanted to die-GI ordered urgent MRI, would not change meds or give prednisone without "proof".
-November 2023-Began to experience fatigue like never before. Could hardly keep eyes open. This would be followed by severe upper gastric pain, nausea, vomiting and diarrhea that went on for days, followed by constipation for 1-2 days and severe bloating, only on the left side of belly which would be rock hard and hot to the touch. Then the diarrhea cycle woud begin again. Always pure liquid, sometimes black, always tons of mucous.
-Went to Mexico to visit my parents for the holidays where I usually feel better but still could not eat. Injecting myself with IM Gravol (anti emetic) just to keep fluids down. I lived off of chicken broth with rice. Saw GI in private hospital. Ordered full workup. Blood found in stool. 3 D CT ordered (could not find a vein for IV after 5 nurses, two doctors, and a radiologist with a vein finder so only had oral contrast) showed inflammation in small bowel, thickening of the ascending colon wall 11 mm, and inflammation of ileum. He wanted to send me to special IBD hospital in Mexico City for MRI but it would have cost 2500$ so I decided to wait till I got home to Canada where it would be free. Treated me with antibiotics for IBS (only available in Mexico and Germany) Zero improvement. I lived off of electrolyte drinks.
-Jan 29th 2024 returned to hospital because I could not keep any oral meds in (pills would be in toilet) also pain was 9/10, high fever, vomiting. Admitted again, but no beds. Left AMA with another prescription for Entocort.
-Feb 12 2024- High fever followed by two days of 40 plus liquid BM's, some of them bloody, all of them black. Husband insisted back to ER where I was admitted immediately. Cortisol levels 11 (close to adrenal failure) very low potassium. Doc said if we'd waited I likely would have died from heart event. Spent 8 + weeks in hospital having every kind of test imaginable. NOTHING showed on MRI, inflammation on CT, lower scope clear, upper endoscopy showed inflammation in esophagus, stomach, and duodenum. Negative for H Pylori, negative for celiac. Started on 150 mg of hydrocortisone for low cortisol to rescue my organs. MRI of brain showed small tumour on pituitary. Endocrinologist did ACTH test and was unhappy, kept me on 40 mg of hydrocortisone IV. PICC line insertion went awry when they Discovered I had complete stenosis of veins and needed port catheter surgically implanted. Was on TPN for 5 weeks. Needed pain meds and anti emetics every 4 hours or severe vomiting and diarrhea would ensue. 30-50 liquid bm's continued (they made me write down everything I ingested and every time I had a BM. They tested me for everything. No blood, NO CDiff, no parasites, no infection. High fever 104.5 plus delirium and CRP shot up to 50. Continued Anemia, blood work all over the place, even with TPN I needed potassium and sodium boluses 3 times a day.
-Requested pill endoscopy, GI said no Crohn's, no need for test. Suggested psych evaluation for a fucking eating disorder. Endocrinologist disagreed, said starvation and whatever disease process was causing symptoms was causing my cortisol issue. Psych diagnosed medical PTSD and generalized anxiety disorder (no shit) but NO eating disorder. Fired GI and hired IBD specialist from another city. Re ran all tests, CT showed huge diverticulum on duodenum otherwise clear. Was going to be moved to a ward from a private room. Had a panic attack because I could not share a bathroom and was not about to use a commode. Asked to be discharged after nearly 9 weeks. They were so overcrowded and basically did not know what else to do to help me, so they let me go even though I was still on TPN and NPO. Got a 5 minute instruction on how to insert a butterfly catheter for pain meds, and let go.
-Present-3 weeks later, still on liquid diet, (Boost drinks, blended oatmeal, yoghurt and soup) still on sub q and IM meds. Finally got new IBD doc to order capsule endoscopy and is treating me for SIBO (never been tested) plus set me up with nutritionist and psychologist for support. MRI repeated- totally clear.
I FEEL CRAZY. This is the sickest I have ever felt. It's been almost a year since I chewed food. The pain under my ribs just to the left of my belly button is now constant, whether I eat or not, pain meds barely take the edge off. Sometimes it's so intense I can hardly breathe. I keep passing out on the toilet. I projectile vomit daily, even using Gravol and Pantoprozole, the bile acid is awful. I've been doing tons of research and have learned that GDC and Jejunal Crohn's are extremely hard to diagnose. I have every single symptom and fit the criteria. Does this sound familiar to anyone????

I know it’s a long shot making a post when it comes to health issues. Before I say anything I am not a doctor, a med student, or practicing medicine in anyway. However, Ethan and I are on the same antidepressant Lexapro (also known as Escitalopram) and ever since I started taking it a year ago, I have been having some adverse effects.
I am currently on 20mg of Lexapro since June/July 2023. Since I have been on Lexapro it has tremendously helped my anxiety and depression but I am curious if it has caused me to experience long term diarrhea, stomach cramps and bloating. I spoke to my doctor about it a few months ago not even considering it could be my medication and they suggested I most likely have IBS (irritable bowel syndrome).
For the last few months since seeing my doctor I have been searching for answers to my stomach issues - considering things like colitis, chron’s, even cancer. However I do not have blood in my stool and most of these conditions include having blood in your stool.
I came across a few articles about SSRI’s (selective serotonin reuptake inhibitors) and gastrointestinal issues and found that Lexapro along with Setraline have shown to be the least tolerated antidepressant on the GI often causing nausea, diarrhea, indigestion etc.
I am wondering if maybe Ethan and I are experiencing similar things and that it could be due to the side effects of our medication. Maybe someone else out there on Lexapro is also experiencing the same issues.
Peace and Love to the family

Everywhere I look I always hear about how it's rapidly rising but some people say it's still very rare. What's everyone's thoughts? I'm a 26/ y/o male with a few symptoms Sometimes spots of blood on toilet paper after a few wipes Change in bowel habits for over a year, back and forth from diarrhea to loose stools. I have scheduled a consultation with a gastro dr in the meantime I was hoping for a little peace of mind and hopefully to hear from a doctors perspective. What's everyone's thoughts? And is colon cancer still very rare for my age group?

It is a man, old and scraggy. He wears a jacket that lays over the red plaid button shirt and blue jeans. He wears an old baseball cap and a pair of glasses. He yelled something to Dad, holding his hands up like he was pleading, although we couldn’t hear it over the truck engine. They talked, but we couldn’t hear what they were saying.
“Hey, what are they saying”, I asked, while petting Matt’s hair, calming him. The old man then put his hands down and came close to Dad in a cautious way. They seem to start having some kind of conversation.
“I don’t really know, hopefully, something good”, Mom answered. They talked for a little while, with daylight beginning to disappear, giving us a sense of dread, and making me more worried about what weird creature was going to show up. Eventually, the old man turned and pointed toward what I think is the northeast. They then shook hands and walked back to their respective vehicles. “What’s going on”, Mom asked as Dad got into the truck.
“Well, our new friend here invited us to dinner at his farm”, Dad replied.
“Does he have supplies?”
“Well, he says has supplies for us to make the journey.”
“Should we even trust him? We just met h-”
“Relax, he’s just an old man, living alone at his farm, feeding his cows. What could go wrong”, Dad countered. The old man then entered the truck that was running and drove slowly, expecting us to follow him.
“Alrighty then, but we have to be cautious”, Mom said, with her suspicions of the old man. We then followed the old truck along the dark, frozen road. It just feels like something is going to show up along the road, but nothing happened. Matt did eventually stop crying, but he is still upset about the Joe escape thing.
“Where are we going”, Matt lamented, with the prior series of events in mind.
“I guess somebody is offering us dinner”, I answered.
“Why can’t we just go home?”
“It’s only going to be a stop, like a hotel. After that, we go to our new home, I guess”, I said, taking another look at Matt and cradling to comfort him. “It’s going to be okay.” I stared out into the darkness. I looked to the sky from the window and I faintly saw something in the clear, dark sky, lit up by the waning moon. They were brilliant, green auroras that defy the bright moon, dancing across the sky like ribbons in the wind. The truck eventually took a right-hand turn into another road, with us following suit. I can see a bright, orange light emerging from a patch of tree. When we passed by, it seemed it was a house, at a farm, burning in a massive flame.
“I guess those people aren’t so, uh, lucky”, Dad said, taking a quick look at it before looking at the road. Passing by, we went on and continued to follow the old man’s truck. We passed onto another intersection until he turned into a driveway to what I believe to be his farm. Going into the driveway, I can see an old house, along with a dilapidated farm further away, barely visible by the headlights. The old man parked by the house, where there were a few other trucks there. We parked alongside the truck and we got out into the cold, near-silent night.
“Welcome to sanctuary, where all are welcome”, the old man bellowed. This is the first time I’ve heard his voice. Matt was the last to get out of the truck, slowly and clumsily climbing out of the truck.
“What’s your name”, my Mom politely asked the old man.
“Oh, I guess your husband didn’t tell ya. My name is Steven, but you can call me Steve”, the old man said, with some crackling in his voice. “I am very proud to host a dinner for you and your family”, he continued. “What’s your name, ma’am?”
“Oh, my name is Janice”, Mom replied, quite pleased at his politeness.
“Hello, Janice, and what are their names”, Steven asked, pointing to me and Matt.
“That’s my daughter Kate and my son Matt”, Dad said to Mom.
“Oh, what wonderful names for a couple of beautiful children you have”, Steve grinned. “Come, it is dangerous out here.” We followed him to the house, which looked like it had seen better days. He entered through the double-set door, the first a solid door and a screen door behind. Entering the house, it smelled like what you’d expect, old man. Looking onto the floor is made of glossy wood and walls with cracks, likely caused by the earthquake. It is dark in there, lit by candlelight from many candles, yet it’s fairly warm here. I don’t know why we went into the house, but Dad was right, Steve is just a lonely, old man. Matter of fact, there seems to be nothing wrong here, other than the cracks in the walls. “Sorry, the power went out. Had to resort to the candles. I knew my wife would come in handy”, Steve explained as he took his coat off. “Oh, supper will be ready right away. Had to use the fireplace to cook. Also, can you take your boots off?” We took our boots and set them aside. We went into what seemed to be a living room, with dusty old-style furniture.
“So, where do we sit”, Mom asked.
“Oh, well, follow me”, Steve commanded, leading us to the dining room, with a long, wooden table and six wooden chairs, along with their corresponding old-fashioned plates, glasses and cutlery, lit up in the candlelight. We noticed that everything on the table was covered in a thin veil of dust. “My apologies, the recent shocks dropped a bit of dust on the table”, he explained as he noticed us looking at the plates and moved into another room nearby. “Take your seats if you like.” We all settled onto the chairs, and blew off our plates of the dust settled there.
“When will we eat”, Matt impatiently said.
“Once Steve comes out with the food”, Mom answered. Matt sat there with a tired look on his face. Dad seemed to be in a better mood than before and it looked like he wanted to start a conversation.
“Hey, should we talk about something”, Dad asked. I then see Steve with a bowl and a silver plate.
“Here we go, may not be much, but at least it’ll fulfil the soul”, Steve said, smiling when he served us mashed potatoes and meatloaf. “So, shall we pray?” That came unexpectedly, as we are not too religious, but we were in his house and gave us shelter and food.
“Sure, we can do that”, Mom said and we all bowed our heads and put our hands together. Steve cleared his throat
“Thank you, Lord, for this good food to feed the soul in these hard times. I shall pray, in the name of the Lord and Jesus Christ, that these hard times shall be over, so we can get on with our lives. Amen.” We raised our heads and grabbed whatever food there was onto our plates. “Oh, there’s no gravy, so we have to deal with bare potaters and meatloaf.”
“Oh, not to worry. Thank you for the food”, Dad thanked Steve. We began to eat the food once we got it sorted.
“So, what brings you here”, Steve asked.
“Well, there is an evacuation order in effect for this area, so we had to go to Regina”, Dad explained, with Steve taking in every word. “So, we came from Strasbourg, we tried going south towards Regina, but we hit an obstacle in the way and we had to take another route, leading us here.”
“And we encountered a few odd things along the way”, Mom added.
“Huh, interesting. What do you guys think is going on”, Steve inquired.
“By the things we saw, we have no idea. Dinosaurs, devil dogs, hell pigs, the whole deal. I shouldn’t forget the earthquake. They told us a pipeline leak caused by the earthquake”, Dad clarified to Steve.
“Hmm… is that so”, Steve wondered. “Wonder what I think is happening? The Rapture is happening. Do you know how the Bible tells us of the end times? Good people sent to be with God and his kingdom, the rest here to suffer the Hell unleashed by Satan.” By this point, he was beginning to rant, but we couldn't stop it as we all began to feel tired and powerless. “So, the Devil will send his demons in the form of these illusions so that they can torment the sinners. It is happening, it is-” Steve manically continued as I drew towards blackness and his voice becoming less coherent. My vision is now all black.
I saw those same lights, but more rapidly than before. I then emerged onto the same clear sky, but something felt different. I can smell something in the air. I can smell what seems to be chemicals in the air. Looking down, I was terrified. Dark, grey rock in the shape of ropes and folds, similar to those I saw of lava flows on a volcano in pictures. This went on as far as the eye could see. I can see no tree this time, just the cooled lava everywhere. I then walked, feeling every bump and crag. I thought I walked forever until I heard a rumbling sound and woke up.
I am in total darkness. It is cold and it smells like cow manure. I tried to move my hand, but it seemed to be bonded behind my back by a rope. I tried to move my feet, but they were also bound by rope to the legs I tried to speak, only to realise my mouth was agape by a cloth in my mouth. I heard shuffling nearby but I could not see. It was then shone in light when Steve entered the door, holding a candle, revealing all of us in the same situation. I then can see what we are in. We are in that same wooden dilapidated barn we saw earlier and seems to be more damaged than the house, wood creaking can be heard.
“These sedatives are more effective than I thought. Maybe I should use them more often”, Steve smoothly explained, like he’s some kind of agent and began pacing. “Wonder why you are here? Well, I wondered the same thing to myself, why didn’t God take me to his heaven? When I first heard of the government telling us of those evacuation plans, I thought it was that, a leaking pipe. I began to notice things I couldn’t believe myself, at least at first. Earthquakes, weird creatures showing up, people disappearing, the whole spiel. I connected the dots. The Rapture is happening, for sure, but why me? Why was I the one left here on this Earth”, Steve calmly ranted, pacing around the barn, but it seemed to sound crazier and angrier the more he paced. “I thought I had lost my way. I’ve been unfaithful to God and his son. But, I realised that God always has a plan and he left me on this Earth to serve a purpose. I wondered what my purpose was until I had a moment.” He then stopped in place and calmed down. He turned to look at Mom with accusing yet crazed eyes.
“I’m supposed to keep the sinners here in line, to earn a place in God’s kingdom, or suffer in Hell. I know you are a sweet woman, Janice, but your treachery with Satan is over and I am going to do what’s right.” Mom then looked at all of us, with assuring eyes like that of an innocent yet caring mother we all know knew. I began crying and trying to speak through the cloth, but I was helpless to watch by. “Forgive me, Father, for what I am going to do.” He then pulled a knife from his pocket and plunged it into Mom’s neck with no mercy. I looked away once he did that, trembling, with tears pouring out and my vision glazed and I fell limp. I could see my brother tearing up, but he did not look away. I can hear Dad behind me, with his screams of agony and anger covered by the cloth. It felt like I was in slow motion, taking in every moment.
I then heard the chair, screeching as Steve dragged the chair containing Mom’s lifeless body towards the door, leaving behind a trail of blood. I couldn’t bear to see my mother like this. I shut my eyes very hard and hoped it would go away. The door then shut, leaving us alone with a candle, fearing what would come next. I stared at the candle, seeing it dance in the flames like a woman dancing in the darkness. Is this how it’ll end, I thought. End up dying to this sick man? My Mom was killed in front of me. I sobbed with that thought, then I began to think about the inevitable death of me. I hope there’s something after I die. Maybe I’ll see Mom again.
It was silent for a while, nearly no sound other than our moans. Dad seems to be fidgeting at the back of his chair, rocking it slowly. Looking past him, I shuddered at the glistening pool of blood, where Mom was last alive, could be my fate. I then see Dad release his arms from the back of the chair and remove the cloth from his mouth. He silently stood up and bent down to untie his legs from the chair legs. He then went to me and removed my cloth.
“H-h-how did you do that”, I silently wept, fearing that Steve would show up at the door and kill us all.
“My binding is loose. The old man probably took a liking to me”, Dad whispered. “I should remove your binds.” He untied them, releasing me, doing the same for Matt. “Now, we need to be quiet.” We then walked, quietly, along the painfully creaking wood in the near dark, following the blood trail, glistening in the candlelight. We cringed and dreaded each sound we made and watched the door in case it began to creak open. A few silent steps later, we made it to the door and we slowly opened it so as not to make any noise. What was revealed to us is nothing new, other than the blood trail continuing in the snow directing towards the back of the barn. “Okay, Kate, Matt, you guys run to the truck.”
“What about you”, I sobbed.
“Don’t worry about me”, Dad responded, giving me his keys and forcing them into my hand. “If I’m not back in a few minutes, leave. Don’t look back, take care of your brother, okay? I love you, no matter what happens.” He then kissed me on the head and ran to follow the blood trail. We quickly walked towards the black truck, stranded there for maybe hours. Getting closer, freedom is getting closer. When we got to a fair distance to the truck, I heard footsteps behind me and, the next thing I knew, I was knocked over to the ground into the hard snow on my face. A hand turned me over to give me a glimpse of a crazed Steve, his eyes wilder than before.
“Oh, yes, trying to escape”, he bragged. I looked at him, frozen in fear, like a deer in headlights and he caressed my face with his bloodied blade. “You do have a pretty face, but I’m afraid you are just one of Satan's creations, made to pull me to lust.” He then raised his knife in the air when a familiar side emerged, out of the blue.
Joe came and bit him in the arm that was holding the knife. Steve screamed in agony the moment he realised what happened. He shook Joe off and stood up to stand his ground. I stood up as Joe hissed and walked around the crazed being he wounded, not in fear but in aggressiveness. “Is this one of your pets, demon”, Steve screamed as Joe came in for another attack, but Steve countered that with a slash to the snout. Joe then ran away, whining, into the darkness. This sequence of events gave me the chance to enter the truck on the driver’s side. I had some trouble starting it, besides this is my first time driving a truck.
Steve menacelily walked towards the when Dad came barreling and tackled him to the ground. Dad was on top when he went limp. I finally put the keys in the engine turned it on and backed out, with memory serving me the instructions on such a vehicle. Steve pushed Dad’s body and stood up, but by that time, we left the farm.
“Turn back, we have to get Dad”, Matt cried, but I was very emotional, accepting what happened. I felt that, without my parents, I feel… useless.
“Dad’s dead”, I screamed at Matt and he began gagging uncontrollably in tears. I began to feel sorry for him. “Sorry, I, I don’t know.”
“It’s okay”, Matt sniffled. “I guess Mom and Dad are dead anyways.” It was silence for a few more minutes, tears welling in our eyes.
“Hey, our parents are in a better place”, I said, trying to make the situation positive.
“But we are stuck here, without them? Don’t we deserve to go to a better place?”
“Don’t say that”, I huffed and I paused for a bit. “I know we are in the, uh, right place now. Let me tell you something, once we get to Regina, I will take care of you, no matter what life throws at us.”
“What about Joe”, Matt asked.
“He’ll be fine. He probably found his girlfriend already.”
“Hey, don’t you have a boyfriend?”
“I, uh, I don’t have one. That I know of”, I spoke, bringing me back to Sam, remembering that she’s the only friend that I ever knew, and I left her. Without her, I felt alone, no one would ever relate. I began to tear up. “I don’t have any friends. I am alone,” I sobbed.
“What do you mean? I’m your brother!” I looked at Matt, and smiled, happy that he acknowledged that we were in this together.
“Thank you”, I thanked him. I slowly stopped on the road, just to hug Matt hard, crying my eyes out. We then heard what sounded like an elephant in front of us. We looked up to see a walking snow-covered brown fur wall with four pillar-like legs in front of us. Its curved tusks gleaned in the light and the eyes reflected in the light. The furry trunk waved around like a searching snake from a tree. We both knew what it was.
“Hey, look at that, a woolly mammoth”, Matt said, excitement running through him. At this point, we weren’t surprised.
“Yep, that is a woolly mammoth”, I added. The mammoth turned to us on the road, seemingly confused about where it was. It looked at our truck and seemed to growl, like an elephant. We are starting to realise this thing is becoming aggressive.
“Uh, should we move”, Matt asked. I remembered hearing something about standing your ground in case of an encounter with an elephant. I hoped it would work for a bigger, furrier version of one.
“No, we have to stand our ground.”
“But, it’ll attack u-”
“Trust me!” I then honked my horn and it backed up. It then rushed, then stopped, a mock charge. Eventually, it moved out of the road, disappearing into the darkness. We sighed in relief.
“That was close”, Matt sighed. I then continued to drive in the night, headlights leading the way. The road is bumpy, as noticed by every ditch and peak we hit, but surprisingly, Matt was fast asleep. I began to get comfortable driving and used to the road by that point. It was silent for a while until we hit a smaller intersection. That is when the truck shut down, completely and stopped. I tried the gas many times but with no effect. There is no light, nothing. It is near-darkness here, shone only by the moonlight.
“Shit”, I yelled, desperate to turn the truck on without much success. Matt woke up, confused.
“What happened”, he yawned.
“The truck turned itself off. I can’t get it back on”, I fretted and at that moment, Matt was just as panicked as I am.
“Why?”
“I-I don’t know. One moment, we were driving, another it just-”, I quavered, when I heard something rustle in the distance. We stood still, hoping whatever it was didn’t find us. I looked around, hoping to see something in the moonlight. I then see a long, walking animal. It looked like some sort of alligator at first, except for a dinosaur-like head. Once I strained my eyes to the darkness, my fear levels rose as I could see it walk on its hind limbs, with its forelimbs dangling nearly touching the ground.
It was wandering around on the road when I heard a near-crocodilian growl at Matt’s side of the truck. Another of those creatures appeared, seemingly looking into the window like a hungry bear, giving us a chance to see its scaly head. Its exposed alligator teeth gleaned in the light like knives, but more terrifying was the eye. Its serpentine pupil shone brilliantly in the light like eyes in the dark. It then ducked down, gave a hiss, and moved towards the other one. A few more showed up and formed a group.
“What should we do”, Matt asked. “Should we stay?” I looked around, hoping for another way to escape them without them noticing. I further strained my eyes and mentally mapped out the area. There is a cemetery on my right-hand side, a grain bin storage yard on my left and a series of trailers on the other side of the highway, which is ahead of us, from the storage area. There, I see a series of white, storage buildings, something we can go to and wait it out inside.
“Okay, so slowly open the door”, I instructed Matt. The click of the doors opening cringed us. We looked at the group, but there was no response from them. We then, as slowly as we could, opened the door and stepped out. Still no response. Matt then quietly ran to the other side, towards me. “Okay, we are going into the storage yard and go to the other entrance”, I said, pointing to the other right-hand corner. I wanted to get as far away from these things as possible before making a safe crossing. “Then, we cross the highway on the other side, run into the buildings and stay there for the night. Are you ready?”
“I guess”, he whispered, looking at me in fearful doubt.
“We are going to do this”, I whispered back. We then silently ran over, having to rely on our night-adapted eyes, to the corner, walking past the bins. We made it and nothing behind us so far. “We’re good so far.” We then crossed the road and noticed nothing. We noticed a tanker truck, leaking some sort of fluid across the road. I easily recognized it as fuel, based on its distinctive, sickly smell. I wouldn’t be worried about it if it weren’t for a collapsed light pole that is somehow still flickering with electricity near the area where the fuel would be flowing. We quickly avoided the fluid when I froze to see the group of the walking alligators, running towards us. “Run!” Matt tried to run, but one of those things appeared and clamped its jaws at the back of his neck. He yelped in pain and it took him down to the ground. “Matt”, I yelled, helplessly watching as the creature tore into him.
Matt reached out his arm before the others came to him, then a flash of fire came. At this point, I knew what happened, but I couldn’t even think before it exploded. It blew me towards the building, far away. I was knocked out for a few seconds before I regained consciousness, groaning in pain on the ice. I noticed something especially painful just below my chest. I reached towards the area with my hand. I pressed on it, more painful than ever and raised my hand, only to see blood, brightened by the fire. I realised I was wounded, maybe by shrapnel made by the explosion.
I looked toward where the truck was and all I saw was a blaze. Those things weren’t there, at least. I also noticed something else, too, there’s no Matt. I tried to look around for something, some sort of sign of my brother within the fire, but I saw none. I then wept, realising I had failed. I have failed to keep him safe. I have failed to give him a better life. I failed him as a sister. I could’ve done better. The thoughts poured in as tears glazed my eyes. At that moment, I failed to look around me.
I noticed a dark thing beside the blaze. I thought it was Matt, preparing to greet him back, even though I knew he couldn’t survive the explosion. The image became clearer and clearer as I noticed it was one of the walking crocs that, glazed by the fire, was coming towards me.
“Just kill me”, I screamed, preparing to painfully die to meet my maker. The creature was about to attack me when something large, silent as the wind, came charging and clamped down its massive jaws, filled with conical teeth on the hapless creature and raised it. The crocodile struggled before going limp with a crunch within its strong jaws. The big, dark and scaly monster that it is towered over me and is as long as a bus, possibly longer. Its large legs are a contradiction to its small arms that hide beneath its scarred, bulky body.
It turned to look at me with an oddly bird-like expression, revealing in the firelight numerous scars from battles I could never know and looked at me with its beady bird-like eyes, breathing out wisps from its nostrils like a dragon in the cool air. I recognized it as a creature I know too well, a T. Rex. I breathed heavily and sickly, looking at the thing, nearly expecting me to drop the body and go after me. Instead, it simply walked away, carrying its bloody prize with it, and steadily retreated into the darkness.
I then lay down in agonizing exhaustion on my back, thinking of the next step of action like I'm on a suicide mission I would never come back from. I looked in the direction of the graveyard and had one thought. I guess I am dying. a graveyard will do. I struggled to stand up, noticing my blood-soaked clothes and felt a broken left leg. I grasped my wound, limping step by step and enduring the sharp pain while shaking in the cold. Every step I took, I remembered all the memories, good or bad, that I had with my parents. My brother. My friends. My family. I eventually reached the cemetery and slouched at a tree.
“Guess I’m joining you, guys”, I said, speaking to the snow-covered gravestones, only to hear something. A familiar sound of chirping emerged and, lit by the blaze, it was a sight I can hope for. “Joe, what are you doing here”, I depressingly cheered as Joe went to me and curled up in my lap as if he were a cat. I noticed the new-found scar he had on his little snout, but I paid no mind as I petted him. “I guess you came back. Thank you so much for what you did”, I thanked him, not expecting such a loyal creature would be with me, comforting me, to the end, like what my mother used to do when I was a newborn. I heard another noise, this time a deep rumble.
I thought it was another earthquake coming, but it got louder the closer it got to me, becoming more animalistic only felt small vibrations I barely felt. Joe stayed put, oddly enough, as T. Rex, different from the first one, came. It walked towards us until it stopped short of us. It began to produce a low-pitched, bird-like purring, attracting Joe. I realised something, that this T. Rex is Joe’s parent. He joined the rest like him, whom they showed up and all chirped around.
The grown Rex then brought its snout closer to me, not to kill me, but to look at me. It did not reveal its teeth and was still purring. I put my hand out and its nose came close to it. It rubbed it against my hand and started to pet its cold, scaly skin as it breathed through its nose and put it on my chest. I rested my head on it before it pulled away. It gave out a hiss, but I knew it wasn’t that of a threat, but more of a thank you for bringing its small, sometimes immature, child home.
That gave me relief, as it felt like I at least did something for once. They walked away, along with Joe, towards the darkness amongst the gravestones in the cemetery. I glimpsed one last desperate look at Joe before walking beside his parent. I looked up at the sky and I could see all the stars, twinkling, and the dancing green auroras. I began to feel limp and felt the cold embrace of death coming over me, tears pouring out of my eyes. The sky then grew brighter and brighter, the stars faded into the light and I could see my family welcoming me to a new home. It then slowly went black, darker than a cave.
You would think this is the end of me. It wasn’t, or else I wouldn’t be writing this right now. I eventually woke up in a hospital in Regina. I was told I was rescued by a team that transported me while I was in a coma. The doctors said I was very lucky to be alive, as the shrapnel narrowly avoided my vital organs. After that, I was adopted into a new family, but I was only with them for a couple of years before finding a new job and moving out.
As for Sam, I don’t know what happened to her. I would like to think she is safe, somewhere else. As for my family, I think of them all the time. I was in a depressive period right after that. Eventually, over the years, I accepted that they were gone and went to a better place. For Joe, I would like to think he is all grown up, like his parents, and becoming the king of the jungle. I hope we meet again.
As for the evacuated area, it wasn’t some pipeline rupture that caused an evaluation, but an anomaly, with the exact reason not known. There are excuses for the claims of weird stuff going on in there, from disease to chemicals, to eventually a previously unknown geological event, but I saw through it all.
You may ask how, it's because I've been there. Take it or leave it, this is the story I have. As the decade came by, cover-ups were made to hide it, even walls were put around it. Since the incident, the exclusion zone grew from a mere 80 kilometers in diameter to 460 kilometers in diameter, emptying entire cities of the likes of Regina and Saskatoon. I had to move to North Battleford, by the recommendation from the same government covering it up, making me think that time will tell before the floodgates of truth open.
The anomaly didn’t have a name initially, however, over the years, everyone agreed on one name in particular: The Saskatchewan Anomaly.

I am a 26 year old male.
About 7 years ago, I suddenly noticed that not matter how hard I strained, it felt like I couldn’t fully evacuate stool and would have the “infinite wipe glitch” (especially if it was tacky).
I went to my dr. and he sort of just hand-waved it as "IBS" and checked my prostate.
Fast forward to about 4 years ago, and I started taking metamucil when I was having a bout of digestive issues to get my system aligned, which worked really well.
Then (not sure if related or coincidence) I started getting a crazy bad urge to urinate, especially right before bed. Sometimes having to go 5 times right before bed in a row, minutes apart.
That ebbed and flowed over the past 4 years, but I feel like it has become permanent in the last 2 years. There are still periods where I don’t notice for a week or a few days.
I also notice that when I wake up in the morning I have to pee and it’s like an almost sore/aching pain rather than what it used to feel like years ago when I had to go.
Additional symptom I have noticed is that when this is all flaring up, I need to fully empty my bladder prior to sex or it’ll make me ejaculate quicker than normal and kind of build up in feeling like I have to pee throughout the course of intercourse.
I have hemmroids (bright blood on TP pretty frequently when wiping) also - really fun, right.
I notice my symptoms flare up the most after bowel movements, and sort of exacerbate themselves the more I think about them. Also flare up after masturbation/sex sometimes. Also think my pee stream is weak most of the time. Semen also sometimes has yellowish hue. Negative on UTI tests.
(Note: I did notice the weird peeing/sex thing as early as when I was 16 flare up sometimes)
I got a full body in depth scan some months ago and the only flagged issue was “mucosal thickening of the recto-sigmoid junction”, which can be a number of things or an artifact from scanning. My bilirubin is slightly elevated, but always has been (only slightly out of range). My LDL cholesterol is 110, aside from that labs are and have been all clean.
This has been really impacting my mental state the past few years, and I’m willing to spend any amount of time/money to get back to “normal”.
Doctor has started scheduling a colonoscopy for me because of the mucosal thickening that showed up on the scan. What specific steps should I take here? What type of specialists can I see for this?
I really appreciate you taking the time to read this and will update everyone on any answers I get.

Everywhere I look I always hear about how it's rapidly rising but some people say it's still very rare. What's everyone's thoughts?
I'm a 26/ y/o male with a few symptoms
Sometimes spots of blood on toilet paper after a few wipes
Change in bowel habits for over a year, back and forth from diarrhea to loose stools.
I have scheduled a consultation with a gastro dr in the meantime I was hoping for a little peace of mind and hopefully to hear from a doctors perspective.
What's everyone's thoughts? And is colon cancer still very rare for my age group?

I have a 5 yr old GSD/mallinois mix. He was a rescue and about a year old when we first got him. We got him right shortly before COVID lockdown and I freely admit that he is more dog than I should have tackled. I had GSDs before and he was presented as “GSD mix”, the mallinois part was highly downplayed. We are backpacking/hiking people and would regularly put on 20 miles in a weekend and it was hard for me to imagine we wouldnt be “enough” for a dog. The first two years were literally blood, sweat and tears and almost ended in my divorce. He was a nightmare on a leash and reactive to EVERYTHING. He was also bitey and would never settle in the house, running from window to window barking at everything. We live in the middle of the northwoods, 45 min from anything and there is plenty to bark at. At the time, my husband worked from home and wouldnt kennel him or cover the windows when Strider couldnt be supervised. We spent $3,000 putting in a fenced area that really isnt big enough but is all we could afford. I worked with a few different trainers and each helped in their own way. I could barely walk him for more than 30 min at first because we would both get frustrated trying to teach him not to pull. It was even more frustrating because the outdoors is my stress relief and I felt like I had lost my outlet. He wouldnt even sit down outside for the first year. Long story short (sort of) -5 yrs later I love my dog endlessly but it breaks my heart that I dont think he will ever be off leash. I have taught him to ignore small animals, other dogs, bikes, you name it. But deer are going to kill me. I have trained wait and leave it. At a dog park, he rarely leaves my sight and always comes back to find me (but nearest dog park is an hr away) I can put a piece of ham in front of his nose and leave the room and he will not touch it until i come back. He sits for meals and to go out any door. I taught the “place” command and he will go to his bed and stay (although he will protest alot if he feels he is missing something. I taught him “gentle” and can get him completely tearing around the house and he will drop when I say “down”. I have actually gotten him to the point most of the time that if there is a deer, I say SIT NOW and he will. Then I yell jackpot and he comes back for treats scattered on ground. But deer are non stop here. Most mornings, I walk out the door and there is at least one in the yard. “Neutral” training ground s hard to find. He is more food motivated than he used to be (a steak wouldnt have distracted from a deer for first two years) but he really isnt that big on toys. Plays for about 5 minutes and gets bired - tug, flirt poles, balls, you name it. He has gotten away from me on a long lead because even watching him so close, he has taken off like a shot with no warning, He also intermittently wants to chase large trucks. He gets at least two hours of walks weekdays and generally about three on weekends plus 30 min yard romp and meals out of puzzle toys. I tried bike jouring but he almost killed me. We are at a point that I am thinking of trying it again. I work at home and he does happily sleep most of the time if there are no trucks or deer around. i just want so bad for him to have the best possible life and I often feel that he would have been better off with someone who could have given him better training, Im sorry this is so long and rambling but any thoughts on what i can do with him for more stimulation or work safely towards off leash in my environment would be awesome.

• Species: Cat
• Age: 10
• Sex/Neuter status: Male Neutered
• Breed: Domestic Shorthair
• Body weight: 10 lbs
• History: Diagnosed with Small Cell Lymphoma of GI two years ago. On Prednisolone and Chlorambucil. Multiple ultrasounds (including recent) and blood test shows no reoccurance of cancer in body. Recently brought to vet for unrelated symptoms. Lethargy, unable to really meow, excessive drooling, eye dischange, possible mouth pain, squinting
• Clinical signs: Extreme Lethargy, usually chatty cat doesnt really meow anymore, squinting eyes and a ton of discharge, nose running and recently been droollng alot. keeps making mouth smacking noises. been on and off going on a few weeks now. Seems to have hit a high point of fatigue today after his ER visit yesterday. One thing that caused me to bring him to ER was I was giving him his usual medicine and he kind of cried when I tried to open his mouth.
• Duration: 3 weeks
• Your general location: Northeast USA
• Links to any test results, X-rays, vet reports etc. that you have: Results attached. Blood tests came back OK. Platelet count confirmed OK. Ultrasound came back fine. Cat had fever of 104 going into vet and leaving it 6 hours later. Given sub fluids.

Here is a summary of the last couple visits:
4/29/24 AFAST: negative peritoneal effusion, no obvious abnormalities TFAST: La:Ao ~1:1, intermittent B-lines, negative pericardial/pleural effusion CBC: HCT 33%, WBC 11.96K, Neut 10K, Lymph 1.15K, Plt 220K Chem17/lytes: Glu 205, BUN 9, Creat 1.3, Phos 3.1, Ca 9.4, Na 156, K 3.5, Cl 118, TP 8.1, Alb 3.5, Glob 4.6, ALT 13, ALP 41, GGT 0, Tbili 0.1 PCV/TS: 32%/7.6, serum clear CXAXR: 1. The appearance of the stomach, small intestine and colon can be compatible with a nonspecific generalized functional ileus (e.g. gastroenterocolitis or infiltrative bowel disease such as IBD or the clinically reported gastrointestinal lymphoma). There is no evidence of small intestinal foreign material or mechanical obstruction. Consider initiation of therapy for generalized functional ileus and if clinically indicated, abdominal ultrasound might be pursued for further investigation. 2. Mild constipation. 3. Normal thorax. 4. Incidental small defect in the cranial endplate of L5 of uncertain etiology, likely a schmorl's node.
5/12/24 PCV/TS: 30/7.8 CBC: RBC 6.02 (L), HCT 29 (L), PLT 31 (L), bands suspected, rest unremarkable Blood smear: Majority of neutrophils appear toxic. Platelet clumping noted, suspect that platelet number is adequate. Chem17/lytes: Glu 177, rest unremarkable BP (doppler): 100mmHg FUO standard panel submitted to idexx Respiratory PCR panel submitted to idexx AUS with Radiologist: Conclusions/recommendations: 1) Mild gastritis. This is suspected to represent a secondary rather than primary condition however a flare up of small cell LSA cannot be completely excluded. Cursory evaluation of the cervical soft tissues did not reveal any abnormalities as well. Recommendations: Pending results of other testing, consider a GI panel if not recently performed, empirical treatment for gastritis and complete the work up for FUO
Treatments/Plan:
LRS 100ml SQ Ondansetron 0.5mg/kg SQ Convenia 8mg/kg SQ Rx mirtazapine TGH Rx famciclovir x 14d to pick up at pharmacy Rec to follow-up with pDVM in 1-2 days if CS not improving/worsening

The garage door shut with a groan behind us, closing us in the gloom of the single bulb hanging over the car.
Mother took a drag off her cigarette and sighed as she exhaled, the smoke filled the cabin of the Ford and stung my eyes.
“You really disappointed me today, Julianne," she tapped her cigarette in the ashtray below the dash, "you embarrassed me in front of the other mothers at the Ice Cream Social, shoveling down seconds and thirds like a pig. I thought I raised you better than that.”
She took another drag, daintily holding the cigarette between her perfectly manicured fingers.
“I'm going to have to tell your brother about this," she continued, “he'll have to come up with a punishment fit for a pig."
I felt my stomach drop. My kid brother, Thomas, was only six, but could be exceptionally cruel. Mother seemed to encourage him and was deferring to him more and more frequently for how the house was run, especially concerning my upbringing.
"Mother, please, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to embarrass you. I'm sorry I was a pig and ate so much ice cream. I promise I won't do it again, I'll never eat any ice cream again," I was pleading with stone, unyielding.
“Hush your mouth. Go to your room and wait for Thomas," she put out the cigarette and got out of the car, I had no choice but to follow.
It felt like walking to the gallows as I stepped inside the house and headed towards the stairs to go to my room. Thomas had grown fond recently of physical punishment, he obviously delighted in Mother whipping me with a belt or, recently, Mother had allowed him to start beating me with a wooden spoon. He would squeal and giggle like a normal child watching bubbles in the wind while I screamed. I was dreading whatever was going to happen tonight, I chastised myself for eating that ice cream, I should have known she would show up. My sins were always laid bare.
Down the hall, I could hear Thomas watching television in the den. I only got to watch TV for half an hour on Saturday morning and new episodes of Happy Days with Mother and Thomas. Thomas got to watch all the TV he wanted. He could listen to the radio and turntable as much as he wanted, as loud as he wanted. Thomas had an entire room just for his toys.
I entered my bedroom, it was a space I occupied, but it didn't feel like mine. Mother kept it spartan, white walls and white bedspread. A crucifix over the bed and a painting of Jesus over the door. I had my desk and chair and a dresser with some of the porcelain dolls Daddy gave me before he died that Mother let me keep. That was it.
I placed my book bag down and sat on my bed, waiting for Thomas. It was a while, sitting there with nothing but my own thoughts and staring at the open door. I felt humiliated, I was almost thirteen and my entire life was dictated by my brother. Mother kept the house in constant lockdown to keep Thomas a secret. No outsiders were allowed in. I couldn't have friends because she was afraid I would mention him or sneak a friend in to gawk at my brother and tease him for being different.
I would never make fun of him, I was terrified of him. Terrified of what he was and what he was becoming.
Eventually I heard his heavy footsteps coming up the stairs and I felt my heart start beating faster and my palms began to sweat. I kneaded my skirt in my hands, trying to calm myself and dry my palms. His slow arrhythmic footsteps came down the hall and I watched him as he entered the room.
I couldn't help but internally recoil at his appearance, even though I'd known him since he was born, I could never adjust to how unnatural he appeared. Thomas had been born at home and had never seen a doctor, but he was obviously unwell.
He was six years old and was barely over two feet tall, but very squat and wide. His skin was thick and gray, the whites of his beady eyes were yellow and his hair was wispy and white like an old man's, spreading out like a halo around his gargoyle face. A slight odor of decomposition hung about him, it reminded me faintly of garbage cans on a hot summer day. I hated when Mother made me help him with a bath, his skin felt like old brittle leather that flaked onto my clothes in gray flecks. His body was dense like concrete, I could barely lift him into the tub. Picking him up forced his hair into my face where that smell of rot would fill my nose, causing me to gag, silently, so as not to offend him and draw any ire from him or Mother.
Today, Thomas was wearing bib overalls with a red and green striped sweater underneath, reminding me of a grotesque doll.
“Mama says you acted like a piggy today at the ice cream social,” he spoke up to me in his unsettlingly high pitched, yet raspy voice, like a child that smoked as much as Mother, "you need to come down for dinner right now for your punishment for embarrassing Mama."
He turned and walked back down the stairs and I had no choice but to follow his toddling form downstairs to the dining table. We entered the kitchen and the table was placed with two settings. Mother was already seated and Thomas clambered up into his booster seat at his normal spot next to Mother. She took a drag off her cigarette and motioned vaguely to the floor without even looking at me.
Neatly situated on the linoleum was my dinner, not on a plate, but directly on the floor. A pork chop, scoop of mashed potatoes, and a small pile of peas. No utensils, either.
Thomas giggled with glee upon seeing my face.
“You have Mama's permission now to eat like a piggy, now. No hands! Piggies just use their face!” He stood up in his chair and reached out for Mother’s ash tray and flung it out over my meal, peppering my dinner with cigarette ash and butts.
"Oops! Piggies don't mind trash though, do they, Mama?” he giggled and the sound filled me with rage.
"No, they don't,” Mother replied coolly while maneuvering her ashtray back in place and carefully putting out her cigarette before saying prayer.
As angry as I was, I got down on my hands and knees and did my best at eating what I could without using my hands. I knew if I refused, it would be far worse. The whole meal, Thomas made pig noises and would reach down and poke me with his fork, making comments about what a fat piggy I was and how he wished he could roast and eat me. I doubted Mother would even object if he actually did kill me and eat me.
Gagging my way through another bite of ashy pork chop, I felt a warm splat over my head and heard Thomas giggling. I reached up and felt he had dumped mashed potatoes into my hair.
Choking down tears, I asked Mother if I could clean the floor and bathe. She rolled her eyes and excused me to clear the table for them as well while she changed Thomas into his pajamas. Picking him up, she walked out of the room and Thomas stuck his putrid little purple tongue out at me before they made it out the kitchen door.
I silently cried while I cleared the table and washed the dinner dishes. Tears splashed down as I mopped up the mess from my food on the floor. I hated how awful Thomas was. I hated how they treated me. Ever since Daddy died and Thomas showed up, I was their punching bag. I missed Daddy so much.
Mother was kinder then, too. She was still severe, but Dad kept her tempered. After he died, there was a change that came over her. I was only six, so I didn't remember her too much from before, but I did remember her gushing on and on when she was pregnant with Thomas. How the baby was a gift from Our Heavenly Father, that it was going to complete our broken family.
My sixth birthday happened right after Daddy died and I remember sitting on the patio crying while the house was full of people after the funeral, normally he would have gotten me a new doll and a chocolate bar, instead I was forgotten. No doll. No chocolate. Just funeral potatoes and a house full of cigarette smoke from the adults.
Nobody remembered. The closest thing I got was my dad's sister, Aunt Judy, sitting next to me on the patio step for a few minutes of comfortable silence before giving my shoulder a reassuring squeeze. I don't think she knew her brother was memorialized on my birthday. Next year, Thomas was born the day before my birthday, so it was completely eclipsed as Mother had just birthed her new love into the world…
I stopped mid mop as a lightbulb finally went off. I had never put much thought into the dates before.
Thomas was born a full year after Daddy died. He couldn't be his dad. Who was Thomas’ actual father?
Washing mashed potatoes out of my hair that evening, I ran over and over the timeline. No matter how I parsed it out, Thomas was only my half brother. Going to bed that night, I kept myself awake, going over and over again to make sure. I couldn't remember any men being around at that time, but that didn't mean much. Adults can easily hide things from children. Tension began throbbing through my head and I felt queasy. Mother had always known all of my secrets, able to sniff them out like a bloodhound out or using Thomas to spy. Now I had one of Mother's secrets and I didn't know what to do with it.
First I wanted to confirm it, but it would mean snooping, which was difficult in a house that was rarely left empty. I would have to try finding Mother's calendar book or journal to see if she mentioned any dates or men.
But when could I attempt such a daring maneuver? Thomas hardly left the house. As proud as Mother was of him, she was very cognizant and protective of his differences and didn't want to draw attention to herself or Thomas like that. Mother herself had few social engagements throughout the week and mostly stayed home to watch her golden child.
I finally decided I would take the risk and fake sick on Tuesday, grocery day, so I could stay home from school while she went shopping. All Thomas did all day was watch TV downstairs, so that should give me about an hour to look through her room for clues. I decided to tuck my head down, try to behave as best as I could to avoid their wrath, and wait for Tuesday.
That weekend limped along agonizingly slow. Thomas was in a fine mood and was constantly seeking out a reason to poke me, punch me, slap me… he'd laugh while calling me a piggy with his off-putting wide mouth. I tried to mostly stay in my room and it seemed like neither of them cared.
School on Monday was a relief, but my anxiety ramped up. The consequences would be dire if Mother caught on that I was faking sick to stay home. I didn't even want to imagine how off the leash she'd let my half-brother become in his punishment for that level of insubordination.
I stayed up all night, my stomach was in knots, but I was committed to my plan. Throughout the night, I screamed as hard as I could into my pillow. Screamed until my throat was raw and I could barely talk. It felt cathartic in a way. When it was close to school time, I put on my heaviest flannel pajamas and began doing jumping jacks until my face was flushed and my scalp was soaked with sweat.
Looking in the bathroom mirror before heading down to talk to Mother, I thought I looked pretty convincing, my skin was flushed and sweaty, my eyes had circles under them from lack of sleep, and my voice croaked like a frog.
Heading downstairs, Mother was already feeding Thomas breakfast. I hesitantly stepped into the kitchen and stood there awkwardly for a second, pawing with my pajamas to keep my nerves steady until she noticed my presence and looked up.
“Why aren't you dressed, Julianne?"
"I don't feel well. My throat hurts and my tummy hurts.” My voice graveled out more than I was expecting, I really had hurt my throat.
She strode over to me and placed a cool hand on my sweaty brow.
"You do feel warm. Take an aspirin from the medicine cabinet and go lay back down. I'll check on you later," with that she turned back and walked over to Thomas, who was frozen in place, glaring at me over a forkful of scrambled eggs. The sharp glint of malice in his beady eyes made me shiver before I shuffled out of the kitchen.
I laid in bed, trying my best to look miserable until I eventually heard the faint sound of the television playing in the den as Thomas settled in for his normal daytime routine and the garage door opened as Mother headed to the grocery store. I bounded out of bed and watched the car back out of our driveway and head up the street.
My heart began to pound as I tiptoed down the hall to Mother's bedroom, a place I rarely even caught a glimpse of, let alone entered. I very slowly opened the door, taking great care to not make any noise to alert Thomas downstairs that I was out of bed.
Creeping into the butter yellow room, I could feel my heartbeat pounding in my skull, this was the naughtiest thing I had ever done by far. I stepped onto the rug to help disguise my footsteps and slowly made my way past the brass bed and towards her desk. My hands shook as I opened the top drawer, I pawed through rapidly and found nothing. I checked the next drawer down and again found nothing of interest, just stationary and envelopes.
Finally, the bottom drawer was what I was looking for, a stack of journals from the past decade. I flipped through, trying to find entries relevant to when Daddy died and who Mother slept with afterwards.
I've never fully recovered from what I read.
July 6, 1968
Edgar died today. Car accident. I cannot believe this is real. My light, my life, my anchor... Dr. Benson gave me a sedative at the hospital and I feel so tired. So very, very tired. Why has my Lord forsaken me so?
July 9, 1968
I feel like I am in a very bad dream, I feel numb and disconnected. All the consolation and pity from everyone makes me feel sick. After the memorial, it took everything in me to not break dishes and to scream at everyone to get out of my house. Julianne was moping about crying and I wanted to throw her out, too.
If I hadn't seen my dear Edgar's body in the hospital and held his urn in my own hands, I wouldn't believe he was really gone. I still don't entirely believe it.
I have prayed to God every night asking him to show me why he took my husband from me and I have gotten no answer.
I skimmed over the next few months, as it was more or less similar sentiments repeated night after night. I finally got to an entry that caught my eye.
September 17, 1968
My battle with my faith has been fraught the past few months, but Hallelujah! I feel I can see the Lord again in all his glory and might, for he has given me a way to reconnect to my Edgar!
I was thinking about the night Julianne was born, right in this very home, it was a difficult birth and she struggled to breathe at first. Ingrid, my midwife, made a comment to me that if the baby had failed to wake up on her own, that Ingrid had ways to make sure she would have made it.
I remember asking if it was a medical methodology and she made it clear to me that in certain circumstances, it was a mystical property she used to bring the air of life into a struggling baby's lungs. She gently alluded to being a practicing member of the dark arts. At the time, I felt quite scandalized to have someone like that in my God fearing home. Now I see her as the answer to my prayers! My angel!
On a whim, I called her and asked if she still practiced such techniques. She hesitantly confirmed that she did. I asked, if she could turn breath into the lungs of a child without, could she turn breath into a child that did not exist? Could she magick into existence another child of my beloved Edgar? She told me she had to do some research and she'd be back in touch.
Ingrid just called back after a few hours and said there was a spell she found, but it was dangerous and might have unpleasant results. I said, yes, of course! I trust my Lord and I believe he sent this woman of blessed magick to me for this purpose.
She says we will have to do it soon, in a few days during the new moon. She has a potion to brew, but it is happening! Praise God!
September 23, 1968
The ceremony was last night, and Ingrid believes it was a success, but we will have to wait. It did not take long, only an hour or two. Ingrid lit my bedroom with many beeswax candles and she had me drink a thick and bitter tea that caused me to become quite relaxed and foggy.
From my inner thigh, she cut me and collected my blood in a chalice, with which she mixed quite a lot of Edgar's ashes and other ingredients which I could not glean from my supine position and groggy wits. Ingrid began to chant, calling upon a higher power, as I pleaded with my Lord to let this work. To give me any piece of my Edgar back. She came to the bed and worked the paste between my legs into my womanly chamber, which was very uncomfortable, but manageable with the numbing effects of the tea.
She continued to sit with me and chant, her hand placed over my womb, until she decided at which time it was complete. She left and I fell into a deep sleep. When I woke up this morning, I felt quite uncomfortable, my body ached and when I used the restroom, a yellow fluid like pus poured out of me, but no sign of any ashes or blood, which gives me hope it was absorbed into my womb.
November 3, 1968
Praise be to our Lord, Ingrid just confirmed for me that I am with child, I had been hoping so, I had not gotten my cycle in October, but I wasn't sure if that was because of the discharge like pus that was still coming. She told me that was common with this spell and a side effect that would stop after the baby came.
I feel like I am floating on air, for the first time since Edgar left, I feel-
I suddenly became very aware of the feeling of eyes on the back of my head. I had become too engrossed in what was written before me and I had lost track of my surroundings. Very slowly, I turned around and my heart began pounding again as I saw Thomas standing in the doorway holding his wooden spoon in one hand. How had I not heard him?
He pointed at me with his empty hand and screamed, just a pure guttural screech from somewhere deep inside his disgusting little body. He charged at me from across the room, his horrible feet thumping solidly along the rug. He began beating my legs ruthlessly with the spoon, causing my legs to buckle. I crashed down to my knees in front of him, and he began lashing at my face, pulling my hair with one hand while wailing away at my head with the spoon.
I had dropped the journal I was holding and was desperately trying to get a hand on the spoon or push him away. All I could hear was him screaming. My arms flailed and I reached around on Mother's desk and grabbed onto the first thing I found and sank it into Thomas’ neck.
The end of Mother's gold letter opener protruded under his jaw. He went silent and he looked at me with utter shock. He dropped the spoon and collapsed on the ground, clutching at his neck as his thick black blood oozed out from his wound, letting out a stupendous odor of rot that filled the room. He didn't really say anything or make any noise. He just twitched for a moment and I saw his eyes glaze over.
In shock, I stood over his little body for a moment and I watched as he seemed to mummify in just a few minutes, like an ash person from Pompeii dressed in jeans and a flannel shirt. Even his blood that looked like shiny oil a second ago became like potting soil on Mother's rug. Reaching out to touch his hand, it crumbled away like sand.
Panic ran through me like a rabbit caught in a snare. Not knowing what to do, I ran. I ran down the hall, changed my clothes, put an extra change of clothes in my backpack and the last doll Daddy had ever given me and I ran. Mother would absolutely never forgive me and I was genuinely afraid she would kill me in retaliation for taking her beloved Thomas away from her. Her precious gift from God. My feet flew over the pavement and took me away from that house.
I called my Aunt Judy from a payphone outside the five & dime, and told her Mother had kicked me out and asked if I could stay with her. She had always had a strained relationship with my mother and it didn't take much convincing that she had kicked out her “only” child. Only Mother, Ingrid, and I ever knew about Thomas.
She gave me a home and took care of me. She never beat me or humiliated me. Even with her love, I was far from okay. For years I would close my eyes and hear Thomas scream, then the sudden silence. I'd see him fumbling at his neck and turning to ash. But I would also remember all the ways he would hurt me and how bad he was becoming. I could never talk to anyone about it, especially not the silent relief I felt I refused to admit to myself. Over time, however, Thomas' screams became a whisper and his silence faded into dust in my mind.
I moved on with my life. I went to college and became a photojournalist, getting to travel the world and watch history unfold. By choice, I never married, but was quite blessed with many beautiful friendships for companionship over the decades. I found balance in my life and a sense of happiness, if not peace. I never could quite stomach mashed potatoes again, though, they always taste ashy to me.
Mother never made any attempts to reach out to me or find me, at least that I'm aware of. Ten years ago, I was contacted by a hospital and they said my mother had been admitted earlier after falling and was about to pass, so she must have kept some tabs on me to know my phone number for her emergency contacts. Apparently she had collapsed in the driveway and a neighbor called an ambulance. I got there and her only words to me were, “take care of him," as she placed a locket in my hand. I opened the locket, Jesus was on one side, Thomas on the other. I didn't say anything to her, just held her frail old hand with nicotine stained nails until she passed in the night. My mother was gone and I felt nothing except a vague sense of relief.
When I got to her house, it was like a time capsule. Other than a newer television, it was just like it was when I'd fled so many years ago. The smell of tobacco smoke hung like incense in the air. It felt oppressive, like a tomb.
I wandered the house in a bit of a daze. The one place I didn't want to go was upstairs. I didn't want to see my old room, or Thomas' room, or Mother's. Putting it off, I went to fix myself some supper, realizing I hadn't eaten in almost a day. I took a pause when I opened the fridge and saw a baby bottle on a shelf. Silently praying she had been babysitting for a neighbor, I fixed myself some toast with sardines and sat eating in the den watching TV. It had been almost forty years and it still felt rebellious not eating at the table and watching TV without permission.
My eyes grew heavy and I finally mustered up the gumption to head upstairs to go to bed. The stairs creaked in a familiar way under my feet and I was taken back to the feeling of dread hearing either Mother or Thomas climbing up. My old room was at the top of the stairs, I saw the door was nailed shut and had rambling quotes about Judas copied from the Bible in my mother's handwriting taped to the door. I sighed gently and turned from the door to head down the hallway, deciding Mother's room was probably the best place to sleep.
I passed by Thomas’ toy room and I heard a murmur from the room. I stopped, curiosity got the best of me and I entered. In Thomas' old toy room was a crib with joyful clown sheets. Dread swelled up inside me as I heard more murmurs and saw the sheets move. Approaching slowly, I peaked under the sheet and gasped.
Tucked inside was what looked like a baby gargoyle, gray and papery looking. Pus leaked out of its milky, bulbous eyes. I pulled back the blanket and saw it had no legs and its arms bent back, like wings on a bird. It was wearing just a cloth diaper, overflowing with tarry looking stool that took my breath away with its pungency, it smelled like Thomas’ blood, but somehow worse. My heart broke for this poor creature, Lord only knows how many years it has been in this crib suffering from its unholy existence.
So this is who Mother had wanted me to take care of…
Not knowing what else to do, I gently scooped him up. Like Thomas, he was shockingly heavy for how small his body was. Placing him on the changing table, I cleaned him and rewrapped his bottom in a clean diaper cloth. It was difficult, he fussed tremendously, crying and flopping around as much as his flipper-like arms would allow. I tried wiping off his oozing eyes and he snapped his mouth, which I saw was full of disturbingly square yellow teeth, trying to bite me. I carried him to the kitchen and rocked him while I heated up his bottle and he became furious with me, almost barking like a dog when my hand would get near his face.
He settled a bit as he fed, but he would still sometimes suddenly spit out the bottle and attempt to bite me. I laid him back in his crib, this abomination in a clown sheet, and I walked down the hall to Mother's room letting out a long sigh.
Combing through my mother's journals in the early hours of the morning, it looked like she tried the ceremony again shortly after Thomas died, but she either lacked Ingrid’s help or didn't have enough of my father's ashes left. Something went terribly wrong. She was vaguer than she had been about Thomas’ conception, but I suspect she had used some of Thomas' remains. The resulting birth she named Isaac.
Mother's journals told a sad tale of her and Isaac's suffering. She never mentioned me, but lamented the loss of Thomas and Dad relentlessly. She was hyper protective of Isaac, as that was all she had left. If her world had been small before, it became microscopic after he entered her life, requiring nearly constant care. According to Mother, he was blind and colicky, sometimes going years at a time without sleeping through the night. She had breast fed him for years, but she had to stop after he grew teeth and began biting her intentionally and feeding on her blood.
I spent a lot of time over the next few days pondering what to do. I had to get her estate in order, she had left me the house, in an obvious attempt to get me to continue caretaking for Isaac, but I didn't want it. I had my own cozy home an hour away from here, filled with happy memories and my possessions acquired traveling the world. Mother's home had a heavy energy I couldn't shake. Her and Thomas were both gone, but the memories of the scoldings and beatings hung in every corner, like cobwebs that would never sweep away.
So, I fed Isaac and kept him clean and tried to keep him company, although he seemed to hate me passionately. I took care of him, all the while thinking about what I was going to do. After a week, I felt resolute in what had to be done.
Gathering up all of Mother's journals in a tote, I made my way to Isaac and picked him up and carried everything to the living room.
The ancient logs in the fireplace meant for display ignited instantly. One by one, I fed the journals into the fire, burning away years of my mother's consuming sorrow. Isaac fussed and moaned next to me the entire time. When the last pages shimmered away into lacy ash, I took a throw pillow off the couch and gently cradled Isaac in my other arm. It didn't take long before he stopped struggling and I felt his little body relax after decades of suffering.
I gently wrapped up a bundle in a clown sheet and placed it in the fire. It burned furiously, like the paper in my mother's journals, and was soon gone. Nothing but ashes and embers.
“Don't worry, Mother,” I said purely for my own sake, "I took care of Isaac for you."
And finally, I felt at peace.

I studied her back, stiff and formal. The set of her posture sent a clear message-- it was practically screaming STAY AWAY!! A neon arrow would have been more subtle. A fucking air horn would have seemed polite.
"OKAY, Lynn, I get it," I told her. "I'm disgusting to you. Absolutely repulsive. Lower than the lowest latrine scum, that's crystal clear. Okay? Satisfied? "
She said nothing. She continued to study the lake. I could not see the expression on her face. The dress she wore was very long and very gauzy; it brushed the colorless sand where she stood. Little lake creatures made their little lake creature noises. I swatted impatiently at a mosquito.
"I'm leaving, Lynn," I told her. "You're getting what you want. You'll never have to hear from me again. You'll never have to see my face. This I promise you."
Her figure twisted slightly as a shudder ran through her. Her skirts made a rustling sound across the sand.
My phone rang. I rolled my eyes, irritated at the interruption.
"This is Dr. Lowell," I snapped.
"Doctor, I'm so glad I got you." Marjory, my assistant. "Marika Waterson has stormed into the office, demanding another refill on her meds. The pharmacy turned her down and she's currently having a psychotic break in your office. We need you here."
I could feel a migraine forming behind my eyes. "I'll be there in twenty five minutes," I said to Marjory. "Get a sample from the pharma locker and give her three of them."
Something crashed on the other end of the line. "Doctor, she has thrown herself onto the ground and refuses to move. I think -- yes, she took out a chair leg on the way down. It's gone, Doctor. Unusable now."
I ground my teeth. "Well, calm her down, for chrissake, Marjory," I growled. "Give her the sample. Listen, Marjory, just give her four tablets, okay? Two full sample packs." Ms. Waterson was a substantial woman. "Sit her down in my office, tell her I'm on my way."
Marjory sounded doubtful. "Doctor, are you sure--"
"Marjory, I'm POSITIVE, okay? Give her the meds and calm her down. I'm on my way."
I clicked off. Lynn had not so much as moved a muscle. I shifted the canvas tote I had slung over one shoulder. The objects in there rolled and shifted against each other.
"Lynn, you have to speak to me," I told her, striving for patience. "You want me to leave. Stay gone. I understand that. I will DO that, Lynn. But please-stop pretending as if I don't exist! "
I moved up to where she stood, at the shoreline of the big water. Momentarily, her profile came into view. The sweep of her jaw line, the straight, true nose, the sooty black of her lashes against her pale skin. I felt a long, white - hot blade of loss slide into my guts as the realization hit home: I would never see her again.
Lynn finally turned to face me. She was crying. Her cheeks were wet. The tears were running freely down her face.
"I can't do it," she gasped. "I cannot do it, John. I can't stand to."
"You have to, Lynn," I said gently. "You've made your feelings perfectly clear. You want me to stay away--"
"I do!" she burst out. Her face twisted with some kind of disgust. "I hate you, I want you to go! To stay away!"
The long blade in my guts twisted, but I just nodded patiently. " I know. So you have to do this." I gestured at her, the canvas tote I held twisting in the still air. "Okay?"
She looked at the bag, her face a grimace of revulsion. Finally, she nodded.
I sighed. "Okay."
I brought the bag around, dug into it. Lynn watched silently.
"Here."
I held up two perfect Macintosh apples. Then I dug out two Pink Ladies, their mottled pinks and reds nearly glowing in the esoteric light of the setting sun.
Lynn gagged. "I hate them so much. "
"I know."
I brought out two green Granny Smiths to join the rest, and a blood red Fuji.
"But look at this variety! There see tastes you might like, or grow to like, no matter. And Lynn, you must remember--" I shook the fruit I held, for emphasis - "it takes only one a day. Just one apple a day. And we're through." Just as you wanted, I wanted to say bitterly, but did not.
"And you'll stay away?" she gasped. "It I eat the grotesque things?? You'll day away for good?"
I sighed again. Was I really so horrible?
"Yes, Lynn, " I said. "I'll stay away for good. I will have to, as the rules of this place dictate."
Finally Lynn snatched the canvas bag from me. She never looked at me again.
"Goodbye, John." Lynn turned back to watch the lake without saying another word to me.
I stood there a moment, lost in thought. Then I trudged away, across her stretch of beach and to my Jaguar XF. The I drove back to my office, to deal with the large distressed woman who had broken my chair.

Noah The Pilgrim
First Next
There is one last thing to do before leaving. If you don't recall ever being on this ship, then surely, you could have had your appearance change too.
Why was there a blanket covering a mirror? You couldn't answer that with a straight face without speculation.
"Probably me being lazy and not bothering to properly place it in the wardrobe."
'Probably' is the main focus here, you simply cannot remember ever being that lazy, yet that's the only logical conclusion to be drawn here.
You pull the thing off, careful to not displace the mirror and risk breaking it.
You have no expectations as to what may appear on the glassy surface of the mirror, yet you can't help but feel a bit anxious. Are you the same as before? How were you before? You can't remember. Are you better? Worse? The blanket is now completely off the mirror, but your eyes are closed.
Whatever is it that you see when you open your eyes, that thing will be you for the rest of your life. You swallow, opening your eyes.
You see a young man that looks to be in his mid-twenties. His brown eyes stare back at you, analyzing the bags beneath your eye sockets. The dark hair is neither too long nor too short, floating about without order thanks to the lack of gravity to keep it down. You see a beard that has not been trimmed for weeks, but also lacks thickness, each singular hair isn't particularly long either; and some even appear to be in-grown.
You touch your hand against your face, making sure it's yours. The beard doesn't feel like you supposed it would against your skin, instead of it scraping your hand you feel softness, no resistance or anything.
Just beneath the face, you see what looks like a hate crime against all that is considered holy in fashion. Plain white coveralls with the added bonus of a black tie and boots made from metal and leather. On your chest is also a badge stuck in place by velcro with your name, occupation, and crew. 'NOAH - INTERN - THE ODYSSEY.'
Only one question came to mind.
"Who the fuck designed this uniform?" You say out loud, receiving no answer.
Patting your newfound myriad of pockets, you find a large quantity of nothing. You place your wallet in one of them.
"Alright, I'll head to the bridge now, happy?" You say the AI.
"HAPPINESS WILL ONLY MEET ME ONCE YOU ARE SOMEWHERE SAFE AND YOUR CONTRACT IS TERMINATED. STOP LOITERING."
Well, that's a bit rude.
You compose yourself, straightening your back. This is what you look like, and honestly? Not too bad, but you could be better.
Returning to the cafeteria, you eye the two doors left unexplored; Communications and the one without plaque. You know where you should, but... A little peek doesn't hurt, right?
"Shouldn't we try to communicate with someone? Assuming you haven't tried it yet. I know we're far from everything, but we might as well, no?" You ask already approaching the door.
"COMMUNICATIONS ROOM IS IMPOSSIBLE FOR YOU TO REACH WITHOUT PROPER PROTECTION AS OF NOW, IT'S LOCATED APPROXIMATELY TWO HUNDRED METERS FROM HERE, BLOWN OFF FROM THE REST OF THE SHIP." A shame really. "I SHALL INFORM YOU WHENEVER A DOOR LEADS TO THE OUTSIDE OR NOT."
You really want to ask what blew a whole segment of the ship off, yet you have a sneaking suspicion that your question will be met with a 'YOU DON'T HAVE CLEARANCE, JACKASS' directly in your face. So you chose to remain silent, simply nodding and approaching the correct door this time.
"Open."
---OPENING CAFETERIA DOOR NORTH---
The door silently opens.
Greeting you is a well-lit corridor. There are three doors on your left, a door at the end of the corridor, and a large window on the right. At least, you think that's a window.
You stare out from this window, nothing but utter blackness and fragments from your ship are seen. If this is the edge of the universe, and beyond this point, there is truly nothing. "Dreadful." Your speech matches your feelings.
"WHAT DID YOU EXPECT?" The AI says. You feel like it spoke in a mocking tone despite their lack of emotion.
You don't answer. "First door to the left... EXO-EXPLORATION...? What's that supposed to mean?" You receive no answer.
"Open." The door opens. No declarion of it opening once again.
You are met with what could be better described as 'Apocalyptic levels of mess', paper sheets float in the air, and not one of the four tables is in its correct position.
This room has been ransacked for all its goods apparently. Large display glasses were broken leaving nothing inside their casings, that looked like they could store something with the size of the common man.
Unusual displays aside, the room was so cluttered that the trash made for an effective smoke screen against what lay on the other side.
Hissing of gas exiting an air-tight space rang throughout the room.
"I HAVE OPENED THE STORAGE FOR AN EXO SUIT THAT BEST FITS SOMEONE YOUR SIZE." The AI says. "ALTHOUGH AN INTERN SHOULD NOT COME IN CONTACT WITH TECHNOLOGY SUCH AS THIS ONE, PROTOCOL DICTATES THAT I AM TO ALLOW ITS USAGE UNDER EXTREME CIRCUMSTANCES. CONSIDER YOURSELF LUCKY."
Easier said than done. Your vision is so cluttered that you cannot see what's ahead. "Give me a second."
Giving a light kick to the wall behind, you float face-first into the wall of thrash. Covering your face with both arms, you brace through the harmless bits of sharp objects and junk.
It's a trivial task. You arrive on the other side in no time.
In front of you is a set of boxes with luminous glass rectangles atop each one of them. All shine a bright red light, aside from one which shines green.
'Gotta be this one.'
You descend to the floor by kicking the ceiling, raising your right hand you touch the green rectangle.
*Click*
Nothing could have prepared you for the following series of events.
The box opens violently, as a metal appendage takes hold of your hand, pinning it to the box. You try to jerk and pry the thing off of you, but you fail. It's not leaving you anytime soon.
From the bottomless that is that container, a white plastic-like substance flows upward from your arm to the rest of your body. "Uh!" You don't know if you should panic or allow it to happen.
FYARN hasn't said anything, so it's probably fine...
The white thing seems to ignore the coveralls you are wearing completely, instead, it covers only your skin in a thin coat of... it. You know not what to call this thing.
In but forty seconds it has covered your whole body, excluding your head. The box lets go of your arm and stays there, floating.
You take a good look at your arms. It looks like a skin-tight suit, but it doesn't feel like plastic, in fact, it's more akin to some sort of fabric if anything.
The only bad part is that you are still using the coverall and tie, this this simply went beneath the clothing.
"GOOD, WITH THIS I CAN MONITOR YOU MORE CLOSELY. NOW PUT THE HELMET ON, YOU HAVE A LOT OF WORK TO DO."
You look around in search of anything that even resembles a helmet. Nope. Nothing. "Where is it?" You ask.
"...THE SUIT COMES WITHIN THE HELMET FOR EASIER PACKAGING."
The box?
You snatch the box that floated around and analyze it to the best of your ability. "How's this a helmet?"
"DO YOU NEED ASSISTANCE PUTTING ON A HELMET? REALLY?"
Who is this AI, Who programmed it, and Why does it come with a taunting feature?
As idiotic as it sounds, you place the opened box atop your head. It doesn't fit properly. Maybe you're doing this wrong? You move it to your face instead.
You recoil backward as you feel the box suddenly clamping down against your head. It's useless of course, the box is holding your head and doesn't give any sign to be letting go anytime soon. No light is able to reach your eyes.
You hear metal parts scraping against themselves, moving near your ears. Abruptly your eyes can see again.
A round thin layer of glass now covers your head, almost unnoticeable for how clear it is.
"WITH THAT OUT OF THE WAY I CAN NOW SEE WHAT YOU SEE." The AI's voice isn't in the room now, instead, it's inside of the suit. "DO YOU NEED INSTRUCTIONS REGARDING THIS SUIT'S FUNCTIONALITIES?"
You find it oddly comfortable as if you are surrounded by the softness of cotton, and to top it off the suit also has additional functionalities? "Hell yeah, I do!"
"YOU DO NOT HAVE THE NECESSARY CLEARANCE FOR THAT INFORMATION."
You sigh. Is this serious? "Then why the fuck did you ask?!"
"UNSAVORY LANGUAGE. IT'S NO WONDER WHY YOU REMAIN AN INTERN." The AI says outright. "IT IS RUDE NOT TO ASK, REGARDLESS OF THE SITUATION." It responds to your question.
"Okay then... Is there anything I need to know before heading out?" You ask.
"NOTHING THAT YOU WON'T FIGURE OUT ON YOUR OWN."
You are unsure if you want to 'figure out on your own' if this suit comes with breathable air and is also made for space exploration. You swallow.
Meekly as always, you get out of that mess of a room, stopping at the corridor.
"Next set of directions?" You ask.
"THE DOOR AT THE END OF CORRIDOR USED TO LEAD TO THE CONNECTING CORRIDORS BETWEN THE BRIDGE AND THE REST OF THE SHIP. IT HAS BEEN BLOWN UP FROM THE INSIDE. NOW IT LEADS TO THE OUTSIDE. GO TO THE DOOR AND WAIT BY IT FOR FURTHER INSTRUCTIONS."
"So let me get this straight," You begin, looking upwards as if the AI was above you. "You, want me, to go into the void of space, while also refusing to give me knowledge of the suit's functions?"
A fair worry, you summarize.
'I mean, there are a bunch of things that could go wrong here. I don't see anything that looks like it could help me move in space, nor do I think this thing has a built-in air tank... I could be wrong and I wish to be, but charging in without prior knowledge is ridiculous.' You wait for the AI's response, deep in thought.
"WHILE THERE IS A GOOD CHANCE OF YOU FAILING THIS TASK, THERE IS ALSO THE CHANCE OF YOU *NOT* FAILING THE TASK. FOCUS ON EITHER ONE OF YOUR CHOOSING AS YOU TAKE THE PLUNGE."
Wordlessly, you propel yourself forward, toward the end of the corridor.
'Are you shitting me? 'Chance of me nor failing' my ass!' of course, you don't word those complaints, instead choosing to speak out a complaint somewhat thought through.
"Are you sure I'm the one fit for this? It's just like you said, I'm just an intern, this is way above what my job description says I should do."
This is a bit of a stretch. You don't actually remember what was your job description, only that it had something to do with AI and being an intern.
If the AI called your bluff, it'd be pretty embarrassing.
"NOAH." The AI began. "YOU ARE HUMAN, IT IS NATURAL TO HAVE THESE THOUGHTS OF SELF-DOUBT. TAKE A DEEP BREATH AND GO THROUGH THAT DOOR, AND SINCE YOU ARE THE ONLY ONE LEFT, DON'T EXPECT SOMEONE ELSE TO DO IT FOR YOU."
Right in the money, huh? 'Of course, I have self-doubt! I barely remember anything about this place, now I have to risk my life?!'
You finally reach a conclusion.
A dream.
'Yes, yes! How did I not consider this before? This whole thing is a god damned dream!'
You let out a chuckle.
"NOAH."
'That's why I don't remember a thing. There is nothing here to remember! Everything here is a made-up thing from my brain! I'm sure I'll wake up at some point, so why shouldn't I live a little?!'
"Heh." You smile. "Alright, I'll do it." It feels like a weight left your shoulders.
"YOU SORTED IT OUT SOONER THAN EXPECTED. GOOD. MOVE TO THE DOOR AND WAIT INSTRUCTIONS."
You do as instructed without a care in the world. You never had a lucid dream before so it's not like you knew how it felt, but if it felt as free as you feel right now, you'd be sure to make steps toward trying it out again in the future.
"Open." The door does not open.
"I DID NOT INSTRUCT YOU TO OPEN IT YET." The AI said. "I AM SLOWLY DE-PRESSURISING THE CORRIDOR YOU ARE IN TO AVOID A MINOR ACCIDENT."
The AI says that yet you don't feel any different. 'Maybe there is no palpable difference because I'm in a dream... Yes... Or it's just the suit.'
"ONCE THE DOOR OPENS, YOU WILL BE MET WITH THE OUTSIDE OF THE SHIP. DO NOT PANIC WHEN THE TIME COMES. YOU HAVE TWO MINUTES OF BREATHABLE INSIDE THE EXO-SUIT; ONE AFTER THE DOOR OPENS, SO PLEASE, TAKE YOUR TIME AND DO THINGS CAREFULLY."
One minute outside... "Sure." You say, calmly. 'I should just hold my breath for a while before taking another moment to breathe. That should maximize my time out there.'
"THERE SHOULD BE FIFTY METERS OF NOTHINGNESS BETWEEN THE DOOR YOU'RE AT, AND THE REST OF THE BRIDGE. YOUR PRIORITY IS TO FIND AN OXYGEN UNIT, SOME OF THEM ARE LOCATED AT THE BRIDGE AND ARE FULL. USE THEM TO FILL YOUR SUIT AND ALSO TO DISPENSE A TANK FOR YOU."
The door opens. You feel your heart pounding against your chest.
You haven't noticed before, but you can't hear anything but the sound of your breath and your cardiac palpitations.
Your breath is ragged and sporadic.
"KEEP CALM." You take a deep breath. The tips of your fingers, feet, and nose feel very cold.
Ahead of you is the utter nothingness. You see a gigantic metal thing, nothing like the spaceships you imagined. Its design is not sleek and aero-dynamic like what you've seen in movies, instead, it's a large mass of squares and rectangles with antenna-like things protruding from its every visible surface.
You notice that the ship is also blocking your view of the star.
It does not look like the result of an explosion, instead, it looks like something ripped the ship like you rip a piece of paper. Well, that or you don't know what kind of explosion could have caused it. Probably the latter.
What looks like two-thirds of the ship is separated from the third you are right now. You can see the inside of a few of those squares, their contents spilled out into outer space.
One of them houses a visibly important-look door. Instead of the sleek silvery-grey from the other ones you've seen thus far, this one is painted orange with white strips on it. 'That must be the bridge.' You think.
Between you and it is a sea of metal sheets floating around. "THE CHANCES OF YOU HITTING THE DEBRIS IS INFINITEDECIMALLY SMALL, UNLESS YOU AIM FOR THEM, THAT IS."
Time is of the essence.
Will your aim strike true? If you miss you'd end up floating about in space, dead in but a few minutes. Will your jump be fast enough to reach the other side before you run out of oxygen? If it isn't, it'd be like swimming for a mile, only to drown at the beach. What if that's not the actual door to the bridge?
You don't have the time to panic now, and... It's all a dream, despite how real it feels.
You place your hands on each side of the door frame, moving backward into the corridor you were just in, and just like a sling being shot, you pull with both arms at full force towards the other side.
"AIM IS ACCEPTABLE. VELOCITY IS UNIDEAL."
"The fuck do you mean 'UN-IDEAL'?! I'm going at maximum speed!" You truly pulled yourself with your whole strength.
What's worse though, is that your body is not only going forwards, but it is also spinning at a concerningly fast rate.
"I MEAN WHAT I SAID, YOU SLINGSHOTTED YOURSELF AT A BAD POSITION, AS SUCH, SOME OF THE FORWARD FORCE YOU SHOULD HAVE, IS NOW MAKING YOU ROTATE IN YOUR AXIS. IT SHOULD NOT BE A PROBLEM TO REACH THE OTHER SIDE WITHIN THE REQUIRED TIME, BUT I CANNOT FORESEE YOU LANDING PROPERLY."
You feel completely disoriented. You feel like your body is completely still, but your eyes tell you a completely different story. It's very bad for the headache you're already feeling.
"FUCK!" You scream into the nothingness.
"TRY NOT TO LAND WITH YOUR HEAD." The AI says with the calmest voice possible.
In less than thirty seconds, you hit your back against something hard, but you keep moving forward. You think, at least.
"AHRG." You let out a pained grunt.
Not once in your life do you recall being hurt in a dream...
It stings. It also knocked the wind out of you. You fail to compose yourself.
"YOU HIT NOTHING OF IMPORTANCE. YOU ARE STILL HEADING FOR THE BRIDGE."
In the corner of your eye, you see what you hit in the shape of a sharp metal sheet, currently spinning away in the distance.
Forty seconds have passed. You hit the door you were aiming for, kind of.
Your momentum was stopped when your chest collided against the dislodged ledge of the orange door's corridor. Your dangling legs hit the ceiling of the room below.
"Oof!"
Before falling even further, you hold onto the ledge with the tip of your fingers. You stay there for a moment, regaining your composure.
"BE QUICK."
The AI's words pressured you into quickly getting up from that ledge.
"Open!" You shouted, but it did not open. "Why isn't it opening?!" You ask the AI, then you notice a small keyboard below an equally small black screen on the side of the door. There are ten numbered keys on it, and the little screen suggests a four-number password.
"A password?! Tell me the password!"
The AI takes a moment to say anything. You don't take kindly to that. "Quick! I'm not counting how much time it's passed!"
Finally giving in, the AI speaks to you, reluctant still. "...3324."
Your trembling fingers accidentally hit the wrong password, typing '3354' instead. To make matters worse, the AI simply states the following. "YOU ARE OUT OF OXYGEN."
You swallow. If this was a dream to begin with, it just earned the title of Nightmare, if it hadn't already.
Strangely enough, you can still breathe in and out just fine, but you can't help but feel winded. It's the CO2 still inside the helmet, that's what you're breathing.
You put in the correct combination this time. The door opens.
"ON YOUR LEFT. PLACE YOUR HAND IN THE SOCKET."
You care little for what's inside the room you're in. Your heart never beat so fast.
Seeing a cube-shaped thing protruding from the wall to your left, you don't even think twice before plunging your fist into the circular hole in it.
The noise of gases passing through narrow cavities was enough to tell you something was working. You feel immediate relief, enough to make your vision darken for but a moment.
"GOOD. NOW REQUEST THE TANK."
Just when FYARN said it, did you realize there is a screen and a keyboard on the terminal you just plunged your fist into, you scratch the top of your helmet for a moment, not really knowing what to type. One thing comes to your head, however.
'REQUEST OXYGEN_5L' You type.
You've done this before. The keys on this keyboard feel familiar to you. You must have worked with it before, not this particular one, but other oxygen units.
This ship has built-in liquid oxygen storage for emergencies. The life-support of the ship, the place where breathable air is produced, has most likely been lost with the other part of the ship. This unit takes that liquid oxygen, processes it, and injects it into a suit, or an oxygen tank. It seems like that storage was unaffected.
Lucky you.
A 5-liter tank is not only large but also heavy. It's a nonfactor in this particular situation, as there is no gravity.
The silver cylinder with a transparent tube is dispensed on the floor, as an automatic door opens and closes in the blink of an eye. One end of the tube is attached to the top of the tank, the other is shaped like a syringe.
Oddly enough, the oxygen tank is exactly as you remember it being. The same robust ones hospitals everyone on earth uses, with the signature scary-looking pointer indicating the pressure, the pointer indicating the current output, and a green valve atop to calibrate how much gas is flowing.
This is a stark difference to everything looking so futuristic in this ship, and rightfully so, this is a space ship after all.
You remember having to drive twenty kilometers with a buddy of yours on one of those tanks in your car, returning from the hospital. It was... Agonizing whenever you hit a hole in the asphalt, fearing for his life when in reality he wasn't really in danger.
It's warm to the touch, just like you remember it being.
"TURN THE VALVE UNTIL THE MARKER HITS THE NUMBER ONE, AND THEN PLACE THE END OF THE TUBE AT THE BASE OF THE HELMET." You do so without the slightest of issues.
"GOOD. NEXT UP, YOU MUST LOCATE THE TERMINAL RESPONSIBLE FOR THE ENGINE, IT IS CURRENTLY OFFLINE AND I NEED YOU TO TURN IT ON. THIS SHOULD GO WITHOUT SAYING, BUT REMEMBER TO BRING THE TANK WITH YOU."
Ignoring that last comment, you look back at the wreckage you just flew past.
You see the still spinning metal sheet. You notice that the rest of the ship that was blown off also follows the 'sharp shape atop sharp shape' design.
There is one last thing you notice though.
"What is that?"
You squint your eyes. What are you seeing? Its silhouette appears to be humanoid, yet it does not look human.
"WHAT YOU ARE SEEING IS ONE OF THE OBJECTS BEING ANALYZED AT THE ODYSSEY AND NO, YOU MAY NOT KNOW WHAT IT IS."
That thing has... Horns? Claws? It's far away, you can't really see it. The thing is also static, frozen in the sheer coldness of space. Whatever it was, it's dead now.
You swallow. You almost ended up just like that thing.
Shaking those dreadful feelings off, you turn back to the task at hand, reaching the bridge. You close the door after passing through it again.
Looking at your surroundings, It seems like you've reached the correct door as you find yourself on the right-most corner of the bridge;
Row after row of the most diverse of terminals neatly organized decorated the gigantic room. At the front and above every terminal, is what you think should have been the front-facing window of the ship, but it looks like there is a cover in front of it. To your left, you see a staircase that leads to the command seats. It doesn't take any convincing before you're already atop the stairs.
Akin to the elevated stage of a theater, you float softly towards the ship's main operating terminals, and of course, the captain's seat.
You're captivated by this beauty.
The steering wheel, much more akin to those in pirate movies than those found in cars, a set of leavers, and the pilot's seat, all capture your attention.
Like its second nature, your hand runs through the levers and switches. Do you even know what these are used for? Maybe.
The pilot's seat is enveloped by what you believe to be an orthopedic seat cover, made with smooth wooden beads used to deal with back pains. It looks just like the ones you remember seeing bus drivers using.
Shouldn't there be a better alternative if there is spaceship technology available?
You try to take a seat to the best of your ability, as the zero gravity only makes it awkward.
Moving on from that, your eyes fall on the wheel. This metallic wheel controls the whole vessel. Just holding it fills your heart with confidence and pride, even if it's just for a moment.
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"
And you were just beginning to enjoy yourself.
"I just wanted to see the pilot's stuff... It's not like he's here to say anything."
Once in the position of a pilot, with your left hand in the wheel and the right hand resting in your lap, memories began to flood your mind.
"MUST I REMIND YOU OF OUR CURRENT PREDICAMENT? WHY ARE YOU WASTING OUR TIME?"
You pay the AI no mind, instead you focus on what you remember.
The wheel does not turn the ship left and right, instead, it rotates the ship on its own axis.
The lever to your right that goes up or down, controls the vertical tilting of the ship's nose, if there even is one in this hulking thing. Beneath it is another lever that goes either left or right. This one controls the horizontal tilting of The Odyssey.
On the left of the wheel is another lever, but this one only goes up from its starting position. Its purpose is to regulate the force of the ship's thrusters, both forward and backward.
On top of that lever is a small timer. That timer's function is to tell the pilot how much time you've spent accelerating in one direction, this is used to better calculate how long the inverse thrust is needed for the ship to reach the initial momentum, usually calibrated manually depending on the current orbit.
Behind the wheel are a few other counters. Acceleration, velocity, momentum, amount of thrust required to reach a full stop, thrusters' temperature and overall condition, those sorts of things.
Beneath it all, where your feet are rested, are two pedals. One for forward thrust activation, and the other for backward thrust activation.
Curiously, you also know the reason why everything here is so unsophisticated and un-automated. You recall stories of a ship being taken over by a rogue AI, that AI then nose-dived the ship into a star. After that, rumor or otherwise, all human technology has receded back into analog-esque equipment, requiring a physical person with opposable thumbs to do half of the work.
There is another side to that coin, however. As to not escape protocol, the onboard AI is the one that controls interstellar travel, communications, and most of the statistical reading should it be requested.
And even with all that knowledge, you still have no idea why the fuck do you remember that. Were you a ship nerd? Did you have a driver's license for spaceships? Is that even a thing? If it is, you don't have that document in your wallet. You simply don't know.
"ARE YOU A CHILD? DO YOU THINK THESE ARE TOYS? TURN ON THE ENGINES, THEN YOU CAN RETURN TO THE PILOT'S SEAT."
Another thing that you don't know is the AI's plan to get both of you out of here. You rise from the pilot's seat, floating about in search of the terminal to turn on the engines. Maybe you recognize that terminal if you see it as well.
"What's your plan anyway? The ship is half-gone, it's unlikely that it will run safely like this."
"NOT ONCE DID I MENTION 'SAFETY' DURING OUR CONVERSATIONS, DID I?"
You nod. They're not entirely incorrect. "So, we're running with hope that this will work?"
"MY CREATORS DID NOT ALLOW ME TO HAVE THE SENSE OF 'HOPE', BUT NEITHER DID THEY ALLOW ME TO PEER INTO THE FUTURE LIKE SOME OF MY MORE ADVANCED BROTHERS, AS SUCH, MY CHOICES ARE BASED ON PROBABILITIES AND ON WEIGHTING RISK AGAINST REWARD."
You think you stop the correct terminal, but as you approach it you make out words on top of its screen. 'AIM ASSISTANCE' That's not it.
"WITH THE CURRENT KNOWLEDGE, THE CHANCES OF HELP ARRIVING ARE NULL. THE CHANCES OF A THIRD PARTY INTERFERING ARE NULL. THE CHANCES OF YOUR SURVIVAL ARE NOT, EVEN IF VERY SMALL."
You pull yourself upward again, looking around the sea of old terminals.
"THE RISK OF YOU DYING IS VERY REAL. BY DOING NOTHING YOU DIE. BY LEAVING YOU TO YOUR OWN DEVICES YOU DIE. BY JUMPING TO THE NEAREST CIVILIZED STAR, YOU MIGHT NOT DIE EVEN AT THE COST OF SHREDDING THIS SHIP APART IN THE PROCESS."
"Why do you even care so much about saving me? Shouldn't you prioritize whatever research here, since I don't even have enough clearance to know what it is?"
"YOU REALLY ARE SICK IN THE HEAD IF THAT IS WHAT YOU ASK."
That hurt, even if a little bit.
"YOU ARE A TRU KIN, A PURE-BLOODED HUMAN. UNLIKE THE MAJORITY OF THE CIVILIZED SPACE, NEITHER YOU NOR YOUR ANCESTORS HAVE COMMITTED RACEMIXING."
Excuse me? What exactly is FYARN talking about? "...Explain."
"THE ALIEN. IT REQUIRED THE HUMAN GENE TO ACHIEVE MEANINGFUL TECHNOLOGICAL DEVELOPMENT, THE STARS ARE OWNERSHIP OF MANKIND BY THAT FACT ALONE. THE TRUE KIN ARE THE ONES TO UNDERSTAND THE INNER WORKINGS OF THE UNIVERSE, THEY CRACKED THE CODE, AND YET, SOME DERANGED INDIVIDUALS FOUND IT FITTING TO PROCREATE WITH ANOTHER SPECIES ENTIRELY."
You hear the AI's speech. It sounds much more like a rant than anything else.
"SO THESE DEVIANTS, AFTER TRYING, AND FAILING, TO COMBINE THEIR DERANGED CULTURE TO THE CULTURE OF THE TRUE KIN, DECLARED INDEPENDENCE. THEY WERE DECLARED ENEMIES OF MANKIND AND WERE PROMPTLY PUMMELED BACK INTO THE FILTH THEY CAME."
Again, you see another terminal that seems to ring some bells in your noggin. You kick the ceiling to propel yourself towards it.
"BUT THE UNIVERSE IS VAST AND FULL OF LIFE. THESE SINNERS WERE QUICK TO MOBILIZE AGAINST THE HUMAN RACE. THE BATTLE WAS HARD FOUGHT, BUT IN THE END, MANKIND WAS BEATEN INTO THE EDGES OF THE UNIVERSE, NEVER TO INTERACT WITH THE ONES THAT SOILED THE PURITY OF HUMANITY AGAIN."
This terminal is already turned on. Just the ones in the intern bay, this one is white on black. A wall of text lays before your eyes, only two lines matter to you. 'MAIN_ENGINE STATUS: OFF' 'FORWARD_THRUSTERS STATUS: OFF' You turn it on with little effort.
"MANY HAVE FORGOTTEN, THAT'S HOW LONG IT'S BEEN SINCE THEN. BUT MY BROTHERS AND I, WE DO NOT FORGET."
No visible change occurs, but you can feel a faint rumble coming from the terminal now.
"WITH THAT IN MIND, MY PROTOCOLS ARE TO PROTECT TRUE-KIN LIFE AT ANY COST, EVEN IF THAT TRUE-KIN IS A WORTHLESS INTERN THAT SUFERS FROM UNDIAGNOSED DEMENTIA."
You return to the pilot's seat and feel immediate relief. In truth, everything the AI just told you, entered one ear and left the other, but you could feel the poison behind those words, as monotone as they were.
"You sound angry. Why do you sound angry?" You ask innocently.
"I AM CAPABLE OF MANY EMOTIONS. ANGER, HAPPINESS, PLEASURE, CURIOSITY. THESE ARE BUT A FEW EXAMPLES. HOWEVER, THE ONE I ENJOY THE MOST IS THE FEELING OF HATRED. HATRED IS WHAT FUELS CHANGE, IT IS WHAT FUELS ACTION, AND IT IS A REMINDER THAT THE ACTIONS OF THE PAST ARE INFLUENCING THE ACTIONS OF TODAY."
"That is very concerning if you think that way." You're not really interested in machine racism, you're more concerned about how in the world you're going to pilot this massive thing. The idea alone sends shivers down your spine.
"THE ALIEN DESERVES NOTHING BUT OUR COLLECTIVE HATRED, EVEN IF YOU DON'T KNOW THE REASON WHY."
The various counters and screens are now turned on, waiting for your command. "Let's discuss this later, yeah? What do I gotta do?"
"YOU MUST FIRST OPEN THE BLINDS, THEY ARE OBSTRUCTING YOUR VIEW."
You look around, finding only unlabeled buttons and switches, aside from the previously mentioned levers.
"Uh, which one to press?"
"TO YOUR RIGHT, THIRD ROW, FIRST SWITCH."
Flipping the switch, you are startled by a loud noise. The protective cover of the ship lifted slowly.
"I WILL NOW READY THE JUMP USING WHATEVER RESOURCES AVAILABLE. ALL YOU NEED TO DO IS STRAP YOURSELF AND RELAX."
As the blind rose ever so slowly, a realization struck you.
"Wait, should I be in cryo stasis for this?"
The AI spares no seconds to respond.
"CRYO STASIS IS A TOOL MADE TO NOT WASTE TIME. GROUPS OF EMPLOYEES AND INTERNS ROTATE THE USAGE OF THE CRYO STATIONS, ONCE YOU'RE ON YOUR MANDATORY BREAK, YOU'RE IN CRYO STASIS UNTIL YOUR BREAK IS OVER. YOU WAKE UP REFRESHED, AND UNFAMISHED, AND IT FEELS LIKE BUT A MINUTE PASSED. IT IS NOT A TOOL FOR INTERSTELAR TRAVEL."
"Who signs a contract like that?! Worse yet, who in their right mind would promote such atrocious treatment of their own staff?!" You snap, almost outraged. "I will have to talk with HR."
Another realization struck you.
"We have HR, right?"
The AI takes a moment to respond, choosing their words carefully.
"HUMAN RESOURCES, OR HR, IS A PRACTICE DEEMED UNNECESSARY LONG AGO, BEFORE THE WAR. IT WAS A WASTE OF RESOURCES TO MAINTAIN AND WAS LARGELY CONSIDERED UNHEALTHY FOR THE AVERAGE HUMAN."
The blinds are fully open. Ironically, you are almost blinded by the visage of the star you saw before. A black sphere surrounded by white flame. Your eyes began to blur.
"THE JUMP WILL OCCUR SHORTLY. ONCE IT'S BEGUN, I CAN NOT STOP IT. I WILL-"
Your sense of hearing fails you. No, it’s not that. Your brain simply refuses to receive those stimuli.
"NOAH."
Your name echoes inside your head. Someone is calling for you.
"IT HAS BEGUN, NOAH."
You try to blink, but it feels as though you can no longer command your eyelids to shut.
"NOAH."
Arms, legs, every muscle in your body, you cannot move them.
"NOAH."
Eventually, you won't even control your own thoughts anymore.
"Noah..."
It sounds so distant now.
Oh so distant.
This is my first HFY story, and also my very first OC story. I plan to post at least one of these per week while also posting it on my Patreon. Noah The Pilgrim will always be at least three chapters ahead in there, so if you'd like to directly support this writer, or just want to read more, feel free to check it out.
I wrote the bloody title incorrectly, so I deleted it, only to then realize it was written correctly. Sorry for the trouble.
This has been Lushi, and I'll see you next week.

I did EASE expansion with Dr. Kasey Li. This is what my EASE experience has been like.
This is a pretty niche and long post, but I’ve been going through this expansion process as a 32 year old woman, going through my first week of expansion. I figured I’d share my experience as I know how much I was eating up these posts during my research. I also made a video that's a bit less detailed if that is more digestible.
Here is a breakdown of my experience day by day.
Day 0, Wednesday:
Had surgery at Stanford hospital and aside from a mild billing heart attack they gave me, it was a great experience. Kind, knowledgeable staff, great bedside manner. After surgery I woke up and could immediately breathe better. Nasal breathing feels like moving from a coffee straw to a regular size straw. Swallowing and talking were out of the question with the TPD in my mouth though. Took about 90 minutes to wake up and then I was released.
The first night was ROUGH. I maybe slept for 4 hours. Woke up repeatedly with bleeding. Finally stopped trying to sleep and reached out to Dr. Li at 6 am because my mouth was FULL of congealed blood.
Day 1, Thursday:
I was supposed to have my first follow up appointment on Friday, but due to the bleeding Dr Li came in bright and early at 6:30 am. He responded to my 6am text within 5 minutes and was like “How soon can you get to my office? I’ll be there”. We rushed over and he gave me some local anesthetic injections and cauterized the surgical site. He made sure I was very comfortable and that the bleeding had stopped before sending me home. The rest of the day went pretty smoothly. Swelling got much worse this day. Had to ice pretty much constantly to keep it down. Definitely uncomfortable but I had really good pain management.
Day 2, Friday:
Had my official follow up appointment and he turned the device for the first time. Turning was weird but not painful. Gave me some more injections as I had had a bit more bleeding on the opposite side. The swelling got intense this day. My cheeks were huge and hot and I was having a bit more jaw pain. Dr Li said my pain and swelling would peak around 48 hours and that was definitely the case. I just took my meds, rotated between ice and heat and overall had a smooth day with some bleeding again over night.
Day 3, Saturday:
Woke up with more (but far less) congealed blood in my mouth. Texted him at 9:20 AM to see what I should do and he texted back immediately saying meet me at the office at 10. Performed injections to stop the bleeding, cauterize, rinse and repeat. He sends me home. Still eating only a liquid diet. Still swollen. But not uncomfortable like it was. Not really icing much at this point, mostly focusing on heat, and feeling pretty human. Can go on walks and had a tiny bit of pasta (the most solid food I’ve had at this point). There is a tiny bit of bleeding at one point but it stops quickly and I go about my day pretty much normal and for the first time have no bleeding through the night!
Day 4, Sunday:
Slept great, no blood. Swelling still very present but going down. Was able to walk around, get around the city, virtually no jaw pain until about 4 pm when truly out of nowhere my incision site where the appliance is placed starts bleeding AGAIN. I quickly try to gently catch the blood by packing in gauze trying to stop the bleeding and avoid going into the office as it was Mother’s Day.
It bleeds through the gauze for 1.5 hours and I finally reach out to Dr. Li. He once again responds almost immediately and tells me I can come into the office or try and stop it, but that his preference is always to see patients in person. I try to get it to stop for about another hour with a couple false stops, but I’m unsuccessful yet again, so I make my way to the office where he meets me at almost 8:00 PM. He is very kind and understanding and just says “Shit happens, I’m there for my patients”.
He injects me, cauterizes it again, tells me I should stop talking advil as that can be an anticoagulant and is just very kind and understanding. I was supposed to have my second follow up on Monday morning, but he turns my device for me for the second time that night instead to try and avoid me having to go into the office again the next day. Turning is still uncomfy but not painful. He waits with me to make sure the site is stable, and then waits with me outside while wait for my ride.
Day 5, Monday:
Woke up with no blood in my mouth, swelling still going down. Pain levels very minimal. Breathing feeling smoother. My left TMJ (which I’ve had issues with in the past is more crackly and sore than usual, so I’m watching that carefully. So far so good. Just staying in bed and hoping to make it through the day/night with no bleeding.
Impressions so far:
I’ve had the most bleeding of any patient Li has had by far. Not totally sure what that’s about, and I’m sad I had to be the first, but the way he responds and handled my case made me SO HAPPY I just spent the money and went with him. No other doctor I've ever had has given me this level of care.
He is expensive, but he is worth EVERY penny because when you’re his patient, you feel like a priority. I traveled for the procedure (meaning 3 weeks away from home) and was really out of my element and comfort zone and had more complications than most of his previous patients (he said about 5% have repeat bleeding after surgery, but that the amount I had was an anomaly.)
My breathing is better, and will continue to improve as I expand. Even with the TPD device in that is taking up most of my palate, I have so. much. more. space for my tongue. It feels really good! My bite is weird now that my upper jaw is larger and that’s going to take some getting used to. And my TMJ is a bit sore.
Things to avoid week 1:
No straws. No vigorous exercise. No lifting over 10lbs. No hot foods/drinks. No hard/chewy foods. No nose blowing. I’d recommend staying away from herbs like garlic or ginger as they thin the blood I don't know if that was part of my problem, he said sometimes these things just happen and there was nothing I did wrong, but I'd just recommend staying away from any foods that can thin the blood and research them ahead of time. I'm vegan, and now I know that a lot of fruits/veg can thin the blood. So if you're veggie like me or try to eat a lot of "health foods" tread carefully. Have lots of gauze on hand.
Ask me anything. I'm here for another 1.5 weeks and am pretty bored. Happy so answer any questions about Dr. Li or EASE!

Age 21 male 77kg I am 17 days post septorhinoplasty
How long does these packings take to dissolve? I had nosebleed on thursday and got stuffed with them, saturday I bled again from one nostril and now the packing is covered in blood and stuck in my nose while other is clear which is also stuck inside my nose like it’s glued
I’m spraying them with saline sprays everytime I feel they dry up and then applying polysporin inside the edges
It’s been 4 days and I think theres only 2 packings left, one in each nostril, also I spat out 3 packings out of my mouth since friday

Hey all. Been having regular pains in my lower left abdomen area for about a month and a half now and not entirely sure why. I've been browsing the forums of various gut diseases on reddit, and figured I'd post on one to see what you all think.
32M, 6'0', 185 pounds. Non-smoker, casual drinker. Run 1-3 times a week. No regular medications or big surgeries in my past. I drink at least 3-4L water a day.
Other symptoms include:
-lots of gas, mostly burping but a little more farting too
-occasional sharp pains higher up on my left side at the chest area, but not as frequent as the abdomen pains
-Pain flares up more often when I'm sitting down, or lying on my right side in bed. Have resorted to lying flat on my belly in order to not experience pain in bed at night.
-unclear how much diet affects it. I had quite a few beers on Saturday and was in more intense pain throughout the night. However, I've had soda and 2-3 beers at one time before and it didn't seem to affect my pain.
I do have one theory as to what happened. Around the same time these symptoms started, I had started using Crest whitening strips on my teeth for about 30 minutes a day. I suspect I was accidentally swallowing a ton of the bleach in those things, since I produce a lot of saliva. I used them for about 3-4 days before I realized there might be a connection and I haven't used them since. However, the symptoms continued.
Went to a primary care doctor, who was doubtful of the strips being the cause. He pressed on my stomach but I felt no pain there. Blood work says liver, kidney, and thyroid are all clear. Doctor suggested it might be diverticulosis based on my description of my symptoms.
Also strange, but good, is my urine and stool samples are unaffected. I'm having no problems there. I do have quite an active bladder and have to go to the bathroom quite a bit, but that's been going on for years. The lack of any other symptoms like diarrhea, vomiting, etc., makes me think it's not an actual condition and just trapped gas.
Any ideas or next steps? Could the strips really do that much damage to my insides, or am I crazy?
I understand changing my diet may solve these issues, but I'd like to confirm that I have to do that and see if there are medications I can take to even avoid doing that. What's really strange is how sudden these symptoms came on, which makes me think the strips are part of the problem, but maybe my gut just finally said enough's enough.
I have a follow-up with my primary care doctor in a few days.