Gland under your right jaw bone hurt to open my mouth

She never goes anywhere without me, I'm never left home alone. I never go out anywhere. The only time I have outside the house is when she goes to the store for groceries and me and the baby go along. Thats the most of my social interaction for the next few months until we need more groceries.
She hates that I put on a small amount of light eye makeup and half way decent clothes while she doesn't want to put effort into her look. ("No im just going to the store and I sweat too much who cares nobody is looking at me i want to dress comfortably") ("look at you looking nice and im here in sweat pants and messy hair in a bun but you just have to let me leave the house with me looking like this while you look like that")
So she's started this thing where she makes me aware we're leaving only 10 minutes before our ride comes to pick us up. Thats not so bad right? No, I have to pick out clothes for her as well as dress the baby and dress myself all in those 10 minutes. So I run out the door sweaty and stressed and looking an awful mess.
Now imagine my 5'0 self waddling, huffing and puffing holding a comically large diaper bag, her comically large purse, a 45lb toddler in a large car seat. It's heavy all together and every time we go out I get looks from strangers like "This poor young mother" Shes my sister. While her actual mother walks blissfully beside me not a thing in her hands. Once she's in the cart I get the groceries and so on until we get home where I take in the bags with "Hurry the baby is crying" in my ear every 2 minutes.
Her back hurts because of her weight, my back hurts because of two injuries I never went to the hospital or at least a doctor for because her reasoning is "If there's no visible bone you're fine" even though I had government health assistance so my visits and medication and treatment would have all been free up until I turned 19.
So everytime I have to leave the house carrying heavy items i can hardly support, I mess up my back tremendously. It's the most painful thing and I'm just meant to go about my chores and such because her pain is obviously much worse than mine and im only 20 so im faking and that's that. I'm doing so much damage to my back now that it makes me afraid for when I'm actually suppose to be in pain later down the road. Most days I can hardly move but I have to.
Going anywhere is so stressful with the heavy bags and the heavy baby, much less the store with all the groceries too.
So this time I told her I didn't want to go. She told me her back would hurt if I don't go. I told her I'd stay with the baby at home because I simply did not want to go. Not to mention everyone in town is sick rn and none of them can keep their grubby fingers to them selves around a small child. She was grumbling and giving me looks and asking if I was SUUURE I wanted to stay home. I stayed home.
While at the store she was texting me that she's in so much pain having to put the heavy items in the cart. And all this walking she can't get all the things we need and she was coming home early. And she can't stand to go any further. She's around 400lbs if I had to guess so she's always had back and feet pain. She's completely mobile when she's having fun coincidentally.
When she got home I went outside and usually the person and passenger who give us the ride help with the bags. Its much different carrying them then wheeling them around. But this time when they opened their doors to help she said "No don't help her. Don't help her. She can do it. Don't you help her." With a tone only a mother can make. So they just stared at me while I took the bags in by myself and I was a little embarrassed. She said don't help she didn't say WATCH me.
They wouldn't open the doors for me either so I was having to crawl into the van through the trunk to get the bags in the back seat. It really was embarrassing. When I was finally done she got off and was walking around the house excitedly telling me the stuff she got.
And I'm here sitting on the floor typing this surrounded by groceries im putting away.
Im out in the middle of nowhere two towns away from anything, no car, no neighbors, just me here losing my mind. Sorry for the rant. I'll delete this tomorrow like I always do.

I (38 F) have been married to my husband (41 M) for 7 years, this coming June and together for 9 years. We have two kids, twin boys, that are 5 months old. I'm going to give a long backstory so stay with me or scroll to the bottom for the TL;DR.
2 weeks before Mother's Day, I found out my husband had been cheating on me for at least 7 months. I used his phone to use the Lowe's app to order lawn chairs since it's tied to our Lowe's card and I wanted to use our rewards. While I was looking for the particular set I want, he received a Snapchat notification from a woman. I didn't even know he had Snapchat so it peaked my interest. During this time, my husband was mowing the grass.
I open the snap and it's a nude of a woman looking to be in her mid-20s with the caption "I miss you being inside of me". My jaw hit the floor. I started going through his text messages and there were no conversations there with other women except employees from his practice (he is a dermatologist) that were harmless.
I started looking through his Snapchat and I guess he deletes everything because there were no chats between him and this woman. I am not familiar with Snapchat so I Google how to use it while I'm trying to figure out if I can retrieve deleted messages. I don't want to spend all the time I have left of him mowing reading through articles so I give up. I do go through his friend's list and end up coming back to it to take a picture of with my phone.
I look through the rest of the apps on his phone and they all seem benign except this secure folder. I open it and there's a passcode. I try three or four until I figure it out (the date of our first date, ironically) and it opens. There are dozens of nude photos of at least 3 women, including the woman from Snapchat. I know it's the woman from Snapchat because she has a very distinct tattoo on her stomach. Not only are there nudes but there are 2 videos of this same woman giving him oral.
My heart felt like it was trying to come out of my chest. I started shaking and tears started flowing. I took a few deep breaths to calm myself down and then grabbed my phone and started taking pictures of the evidence. I even recorded clips of the videos, I just couldn't watch them in their entirety.
I look through all the apps again and realize that maybe he has some hidden. So, I google hidden apps on android and follow the instructions. Three apps were hidden. Two messaging apps and a hook-up app called Adult friend finder. I debated even opening them because I was so scared of what I would find. But I ended up viewing them because knowing is better than not knowing for me.
He had been messaging at least 4 different women, including the video girl. He had sex with at least two of them that I found proof of. All messages made me sick but the video girl's messages were the worst and completely shattered my heart. I had to stop to go throw up because of the stress and anxiety.
Some messages that hurt me the most were: Her: "Tell me how much better my p***y is than your wife's." Him: "Wetter, tighter and infinitely better."
Her: *sends nude* "How does my body compare to your wife's?" Him: "There is no comparison baby, you are a goddess."
There were so many others but those two come to mind as the ones that made me feel the absolute worst. Remember, I just had twins 5 months ago. I am very insecure due to all of the changes that happened to my body and my c-section scar. I am also 25 pounds heavier than I was pre-pregnancy. My husband and I stopped having sex because it was so uncomfortable for me about 2 months before I gave birth, around the same time he started messaging these women coincidentally. We've only had sex about three times since they were born due to my insecurity issues and just being so exhausted caring for and breastfeeding twins every day. I also have a business and work from home around the twins' schedules so I can stay at home with them.
I take photos of everything, using my phone again like before. The earliest messages were sent 7 months ago so I know it had been going on for at least 7 months, while I was freaking pregnant with our twins. Oh, I also found out that the night after I had a c-section and while our newborn preemie twins were in the NICU, he met with video girl for a hook-up at her apartment. He told me he was going to get food and check on his office. With our twins being preemies, anything could have happened and he wouldn't have been there because he was with her. But, that wasn't a thought for him I guess.
I close out all the apps, make sure the hidden ones are hidden from his home screen and put his phone back exactly where I found it. I also make sure the snap notification was gone. I was nervous that he would find out about the snap that was opened but he didn't.
I call my best friend of over 33 years who is also my business partner. I tell him everything and have a good cry to let it all out. He helps me to collect myself and gives me some sound advice. He tells me to not tell my husband I found anything yet and to speak with a divorce lawyer as soon as possible. He said to meet with the best ones in my area so that they couldn't represent my husband. He offers me and the twins a place to stay at his home if I need time away from my husband, assuring me that his husband would love to have me there.
Over the next week, my BFF helps me take care of the twins while meet with 5 different divorce lawyers and end up hiring, in my opinion, the best. She tells me not to leave the family home so I end up not going to stay with my BFF. She starts the divorce paperwork immediately. During this time, I am doing my best to continue on like nothing is wrong. I want to make sure all of my ducks are in a row before he realizes what I know.
Fast-forward to Mother's Day. My husband makes me breakfast in bed, gives me very expensive jewelry, flowers, the works. I can't enjoy it, of course, because it feels so fake now that I know what he's been up to. I pretend to love it though.
My husband's father planned a cook out that afternoon for my husband's mother, sister (let's call her Julie), sister-in-law (let's call her Fran) and me. We all have infants under a year old so it's everyone's first Mother's day, except my MIL's of course. I told my husband that I didn't feel like going and he guilt-tripped me by saying that my FIL had a big surprise for me and he's been really looking forward giving it to me. So, I reluctantly agree. I ask if my BFF can come since his mother sadly passed away just under a year ago. He calls his dad and my FIL replies that of course he can come. My BFF agreed to come to offer me support since he knew it would be very difficult for me to be there.
I plan to act like nothing's wrong and try to enjoy the day since it's my first Mother's Day after all. I tell myself that I will focus on the twins and get cuddles from my two nieces. Julie has an 8 month old daughter and Fran (husband's brother's wife) has a 10 month old daughter. I'm also the closest to Julie out of all his family since we became friends 10 years ago and she's the one who introduced me to my husband.
We get there and everything is fine. My husband is helping his dad, brother (let's call him Chris), BIL (let's call him Roger) cook on the grill. My MIL and the women are taking turns holding the babies. My BFF took over the kitchen, finishing up all of the sides so the moms could relax. It started out to be a really good day. I kept myself from thinking of my husband's betrayal for the most part and focused on the family.
After we eat my MIL starts taking pictures of the family. I'm sitting on the couch and she tells my husband to sit beside me for the photo. He does and then she tells him to put his arm around me and jokingly says "pretend like you love her" and I lose it. I start to uncontrollably sob.
My MIL pulls me up and hugs me and my FIL comes over and joins in the hug. My BFF comes to stand right next to me. My FIL asks me what was wrong. I look at my BFF and he gives me a "tell if you want" look.
I tell them that I found out my husband has been cheating on me for at least 7 months. Julie gasps and everyone stares at my husband. He stands up and says "that's not true at all, why would you think that? You know you and the boys are my whole world." Everyone is silent, looking at me. I tell them all that I found messages, pictures, the hook-up app and even videos on his phone. My husband looks faint and sits back down. Nobody says anything for at least 2 minutes.
Finally, Julie asks my husband, while crying herself, why? My husband tells her that "I made a mistake, I only talked to the women, I never physically cheated." My BFF quickly replies, "Liar!" Julie then asks me what all I found. I tell them everything, the nudes, the videos of my husband receiving oral, the messages and even tell them what those horrible messages said about me. He continues to deny it! I pull up a few message photos and show them to Julie, my MIL and FIL. My husband tries to gaslight me by saying that he admitted to talking to other women but he never slept with any of them. I really don't want to show them the video but I do find a few messages where my husband and a woman talked about their previous sexual encounters. My husband again says that he admitted to talking to them but never really cheated. He literally says "if the message talks about sex it was just role playing."
Roger (Julie's husband) goes over to my husband and jerks his phone out of his hand. My husband tries to get it back but Roger is 6'7 and my husband is 6'1 so he just holds it up where my husband can't reach. He asks me what his passcode is and I tell him. He then asks me where to find things and as I start to tell him my husband grabs his phone back.
At this point my MIL, Julie and Fran are all crying. Chris starts getting upset with me. He tells me this was not the time nor place to bring this all up and that I ruined Julie and Fran's first Mother's Day. Julie speaks up and says no, my husband is the one who ruined it. Chris starts yelling and saying that our personal business needs to stay private and that I had no right to bring it up to his family and ruin the only first mother's day the women will get. Fran agrees with him and tells me I'm definitely in the wrong for bringing it up, if it even is true.
At this point both of my twins start crying. I am not going to breastfeed them there and I want to get out of that house as quick as possible. I ask my BFF to take me home and we transfer the car seats from my husband's vehicle into his. My MIL follows me outside and says that Chris was right, I should have kept it all to myself and that now future Mother's Days will be a reminder of this fiasco for everyone. I just ignore her and put the twins in the car. My husband comes outside and asks if we can please talk. I tell him no, get in the car and my BFF, the twins and I leave. I end up feeling horrible and guilty that I let it all out to everyone.
My husband didn't come home and ended up staying at his parents house and has been there the past two nights. He got my FIL to come over Sunday evening and pick up clothes, toiletries, work stuff and various other items. While he was here I asked him, did I ruin Mother's Day? He tells me no that my husband did. He said that he asked me what was wrong and I was honest. He said he understood now why the "pretend like you love her" comment caused me to breakdown. I asked him about my MIL, Chris and Fran since I know Julie and Roger aren't mad at me. He said that they are still angry with me but they will eventually get over it.
TL;DR - I found out my husband had been cheating on me for at least 7 months with multiple women, starting while I was pregnant with our twins and continuing after I gave birth. I didn't tell him I knew for 2 weeks. At a Mother's Day cookout that his family hosted for his mother, me, his sister and sister-in-law, his mother made a comment that made me break down. I ended up telling everyone about the infidelity. His brother, SIL, and mother told me I ruined his sister and SIL's first Mother's Day. and that I shouldn't have said anything about the affairs.
Am I the AH?

Genocide looked to the sky. He thought of his mentor. The one who had saved him. He remembered his childhood. How powerless he was. He remembered the anger. He never wanted to hurt anybody. He thought of all the times he showed compassion. How much they hurt him for it. He saw the world before him, a graveyard. Humans. People that were supposed to be made in the image of some divine creator. They were but maggots feasting upon his remains. They ate away at his very being until nothing human remained. His thoughts were no longer his own. He had no joys in life that mattered. He hated humanity more than he could love anything about himself. He remember his first killing spree. Being gunned down by police. Left for dead. He remembered a hooded figure moving towards him. Getting closer the more he neared his death. He saw its pale face. Its impossibly black eyes. It was a man. This figure in question appeared to be of Japanese nationality with long, straight, loose hair. It emanated extreme malice. It offered him a choice. A purpose. Power. He thought the figure a reaper but it identified itself as Amakusa Masataka. Masataka guided him on how to kill and gave him specific locations to kill people in. In a sense, he became a hitman for quotas of people. He inquired what Masataka was. The presence of evil, his ability to appear and disappear at will, how he could control what people could see him and what people couldn't. While vague, years of killing for this being offered some insight. Amakusa Masataka belonged to a group of people not of this world. His people had been corrupted by a dark force long ago and had aligned themselves with the warlord who had subjugated their version of Japan. Their dark high priest assisted the warlord along with two others. These four rulers in turn served a larger order. The four were tasked with bringing about the end of the current world as an act of retribution for some fallen deity. Masataka's people acted as covert operatives for this empire. They were feared across the land and were collectively referred to as "Shinigami". An agent of the coming apocalypse, a servant of evil possessed by the will of those gods of death, Genocide would walk the earth.
Genocide stepped toward the station. A police cruiser rammed into him. He pulled out a knife and stabbed the hood of the car. The inhuman force of the knife created sparks which burst the engine into flames. The car crashed into a streetlight and exploded. A second cruiser neared the scene. No way a man could have done this. Yet still, out of the fires Genocide strode forth. It set upon the second vehicle, shooting out it's tires while jumping 9 feet into the air. The car tries to reverse but crashes into a wall. Genocide lands on the hood and kicks through the front window. Glass shatters under its boot, blinding the two officers inside. Genocide shoots one of the officers with a shotgun, killing him. The second officer in the passenger seat readies his pistol and takes aim. Only two shots fired, both directed at Genocide's head. It casually cocks its neck to avoid them. Then it grabs the officer's arm, breaking it. Genocide uses its free hand to grab the officer's head and bangs it into the dashboard no less than 5 times. The skull is shattered on the final impact. Genocide jumps off the car and continues on his mission.
Detective Evans speaks through a megaphone," This is your first and final warning. Stand down or we will use any and all means at our disposal to put you down." Genocide dropped its shotgun and raised its hands. A group of five SWAT team members rushed out the station, surrounding Genocide with riot shields. An officer accompanies them, edging behind the figure to apply handcuffs. Suddenly, Genocide springs to life , grabbing the officer behind him. He flips the officer over his head, slamming him into the pavement at his feet. Then Genocide stomps his head causing it to burst. Genocide drops a flash bomb from his coat sleeve, blinding the SWAT team as he draws his knife. He drives it into one SWAT member, the knife puncturing the shield and piercing his chest. Genocide kicks the corpse away withdrawing his knife. He goes to another, this time using the end of his boot toe in a rising kick to disarm their shield. He grabs them by the throat and drives the knife slowly into their eye socket. Another is tackled to the ground and beaten to death despite still being under the shield. Another is picked up and thrown into the fires still burning from the first auto incident. In no time, Genocide stood before an indistinguishable mass of gore, blood streaking across his black leather outfit. He laughed" So this is all you can give me. I'm not entertained." Officers took aim from the station windows, and snipers did so from other rooftops. Genocide laughed maniacally as he was rained down upon from all sides by a hailstorm of bullets. His body convulsed, but he did not fall. Moments more and he was on his knees. Still though, their efforts were futile. Gracia looked out and saw a black mist coalescing around the man in black. His blood. Blood erupted from his body only to transform into this dark mist that reentered his wounds. Genocide screamed. No. It was just an elevated pitch in his laughter. Optimism failed everyone yet again. Gracia saw Genocide holding something in his right hand. She could only make out a beeping red light. Genocide pushed the button triggering the carefully concealed explosives he laid in preparation for this event. C4 explosives went off in all the places he saw fit. The sniping posts he couldn't reach. The assault of lead lightened. Then Genocide drew an RPG from...somewhere. He collected himself and fired at the station's entrance. The explosion shook the station. From inside, the lights began to flicker. Communications were down on all fronts. Had he modified the rocket with some type of EMP? Not good. Amisdst the confusion Genocide entered using smoke bombs to mask his presence. Moving like a shadow, he killed everyone in the lobby silently with his knife. He made his way to the holding cells. Still they chanted. Still they praised. Still they raved for the arrival of genocide. Genocide shot the lock opening the cell. Jim Jimenez walked out and bowed before his master. Genocide smiled. He couldn't have imagined how proficient he had gotten with possession. Well, not quite possession. He had known of the Shinigami's ability to share their thoughts and emotions with humans. Shinigami like his mentor were ancient. They had so many years of memories, such strong a hatred for life that they overwhelmed the personality of the victim. The victim sees themselves as one of them. Shinigami can't force the will of the victim, so they find those who are already similar to them in some way. Genocide found the collective universal distrust of police to be a prime sentiment to capitalize on. He armed the inmates, infecting them with samples of his own dark essence.One particular inmate caught Genocide's eye. He knew the man's work. An arsonist. The one whom he recalls was responsible for blowing up his first car way back in high school. Rather than a standard firearm, Genocide gave the man a random assortment of grenades containing a special surprise. Genocide showed them visions of anarchy, of sending a message to a society that used and disregarded them. While this was also true of how he felt, years of living in darkness had changed him. He needed no purpose. No end goal. No justification. He just wanted to watch the world burn.
Genocide's small army broke off to engage several different wings of the station. Genocide went to the security room. He found Wayne, his informant, playing some FPS on one of the monitors. Wayne took of his headphones and asked," You kill everyone yet?" Genocide responded," No. You should get going before that happens. Your life becomes fair game if I run out of pigs to cook." Wayne clapped his hands, "Aight, GC my man, say less." He packed his things and left. Genocide drew a twin pair of handguns and laid waste to the station. He followed a group that took cover in the men's restroom. Kicking open multiple stalls he was surprised to find...nothing. Where had they gone? He turned around and saw his mentor, Masataka, smiling at him. It looked like him. Long, dark hair, black clothing, and soulless, empty eyes. But it wasn't. It was Genocide's own reflection in the mirror. Genocide smiled. He didn't notice the changes at first. They must have happened gradually. Subconsciously. From the final stall, an officer sprung into action, rushing Genocide, hitting him point blank with a shockgun round. Genocide felt the tingling sensation electrifying his body and grew numb. In spite of the pain, he took a single step. Then, another. He came within striking range of the officer and snatched the shockgun. Two more officers erupted from another stall, battering him with baton strikes. Genocide felt nothing. He clutched the shockgun in his hand like a bat and went to work pulverizing his attackers. An officer kicked in the bathroom door, a woman holding a pistol. She fired multiple times to no effect. Genocide stood covered in blood. He even let her reload. Twice. He wanted to see her despair. Her hopelessness. He walked towards her, shrugging off bullets as they pierced his body. His wounds healed nigh instantly due to the dark essence he had been imbued with. He held her face with both hands, lifting her body off the ground. As she screamed, he used her head to shatter the restroom mirror, running down the full length of it while smashing her into it at several points. He dropped the remains of what he held, washed his hands with soap, dried them, then exited the restroom.
The inmates that rallied for the cause of genocide attacked the station. Fortunately, they were nowhere near Genocide in terms of power and only carried one type of firearm each. They shared his healing ability but could be killed quite easily. Gracia encountered a sniper on the end or a west wing hallway. Other officers waited behind corners unable to get close. Gracia noticed the faulty lighting. In this hallway, the lights flickered in intervals of 3 seconds. Finding a pattern and timing her movements, she rushed the sniper at the exact moment the lights went out. Running the length of the hall, Gracia zigzagged, dodging the sniper inmate's bullets. She jumped on a wall, ran 3 feet on it, then kicked off it, pouncing on the assailant. She fired five shots into him, making sure to hit the brain and the heart. Two severe injuries that were impossible for Shinigami essence to heal simultaneously. Elsewhere, Evans took on another escaped inmate. A vehicular arsonist named Carson. Carson had a bag filled with an assortment of different grenades and was happily giving them out like candy on Halloween. "A flash bang here, a bit of tear gas there. Oh. Wait! Was that an ice grenade? Did the explosion freeze your leg to the floor? Whoops. Maybe a fire grenade will melt that for you. Hold on let me get one fore you," Carson rambled gleefully. Evans looked at the carnage before him. Officers burning. Officers partially frozen in blocks of ice. He took a breath and aimed his wristgun. He steadied his right forearm. Carson readied to throw a random grenade. Evans shot it the moment it left Carson's hand. The grenade exploded directly in front of Carson. Both Evans and Carson looked at each other in shock. Confetti. A party grenade? Carson quickly fumbled for another but was tackled and restrained by several officers. Meanwhile in the South wing, Lary had some colleagues set a trap for another shotgun toting inmate. He had them bait the inmate and flee. Giving chase he turned a corner and ran straight into Lary's fist. The inmate recovered and motioned to shoot Lary. "Let's tango. " Lary gave the code word. Nearby officers activated a device. A signal jammer of sorts. The inmate shoved the barrel of his gun into Lary's gut and pulled the trigger. Nothing. The special signal jammer in question was designed for firearms. It was a last resort as it left officers just as defenseless. Lary was having fun. He boxed the inmate in hand to hand combat. Despite the inmate's enhanced strength, Lary's technique pulled through. Lary ducked under one of the inmate's wide punches and did some type of rising uppercut where he jumped off the ground while spinning. One of the other officers whispered" The rising dragon." Lary smiled giving a thumbs up" Yeah, it was a rising dragon uppercut. Saw it in one O my kid's vidya games. Thought I'd try it out while I'm jacked on adrenaline".
Jim Jimenez looked long and hard at himself in the mirror. He was in the women's restroom. Some brainless woman had broken the men's restroom mirror with her face. For the first time in a long while Jim could think clearly. He was becoming sane. At the least he was no longer a raving lunatic. The life essence of the dark gods had healed the wounds to both his body and his mind. He saw his face, his scraggly dirty beard. He found a razor and shaved. He trimmed his beard somewhat. He liked it. He washed his hair. It fell down his face like silk, no longer greasy. His bloodshot eyes once burning with crazed intensity had cooled. He blinked. Just for a second, he saw the man known as Genocide. The man that attacked him. The one that killed him and gave him new life. The drug dealers. The police. They were all the same in his eyes now. They were all to blame for the world being what it is. Jim wanted to hate them. He wanted to take revenge, but he felt nothing. It didn't matter. He knew he was wronged, could logically justify acting against them, but he just didn't care anymore. About anything. He was finally free. Sensing his presence was no longer needed here, Jim vanished into the night. He needed to find someone who had had the answers he needed. Himself. Who had he been? Who was he now? Who could he become? Where was he going? So many questions to ponder indefinitely. So much time left in the rest of his life.
Genocide ran down the station's halls raining hailstorms of bullets upon its occupants. He had a handgun in each hand as well as a wristgun on each wrist. This effectively gave him 4 separate firearms that he could use simultaneously. Lary regrouped with Gracia, Evans, and a handful of others. They radioed all surviving officers near Genocide to flee to the roof. This plan had been set in motion days before the assault and had been kept hidden from most of the force. The plan involved scheduling flights for several helicopters to arrive at some point after Genocide arrived. There would be no way for him to prepare for them and pre-scheduling their arrival ensured they arrived regardless of if they were called or not. Lary and the others set about preparing the second jamming device. Genocide stood among a hallway of bodies. He saw one man clinging to life trying to crawl away. He decided on trying that other thing he saw his master do. He grabbed the dying man and pinned him to the wall. Slowly he drove a knife into his chest. As the man's life slipped away, something else entered his body. Genocide channeled a small amount of his essence into the vessel. He had steadily done this with other casualties around the station whose bodies were somewhat salvageable. He dropped the body he was holding and looked upon the others. He closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them, his eyed were black, both sclera and iris. The scene before him changed. Genocide had a vision. He saw a dead gray wasteland littered with bodies. These people however weren't cops and wore traditional Japanese attire. In his hand wasn't a gun or knife but a short sickle akin to a farming tool. He heard a dark voice call out to him. Slowly, the corpses around him began to rise, now mere puppets bound eternally to their master's whim. The bodies sold to the reaper who had claimed their lives. Genocide's vision ended. His eyes had returned normal. Around him, dead cops began to rise. His dark essence had entered their bodies and reanimated them. He sent his dead army to attack the officers fleeing to the roof of the station. These zombies swarmed the stairwell giving chase to the few survivors. There were five of them. They had two flights of stairs to climb and a horde of their former colleagues close behind them. One officer tripped and was set upon by the horde. The zombies didn't bite them but held them firmly in place. The other four officers stared down wondering what to do. They could hear Genocide chuckling. They could hear humming. They could feel the temperature rising. Their colleague and the two zombies holding him were hit by an enormous green fireball. Genocide had fired a Magnum Opus and had charged the bullet to level 3. The Magnum Opus was simply a magnum that shot fireballs, with bullets that could be charged by holding down the trigger. It had three levels of charges. Level 1 was a small reddish ball of plasma. Level 2 was slightly larger and yellow. Level 3 was the maximum charge and resulted in a large slow moving green blast of energy. The officer was ignited and Genocide watched gleefully as the force of the blast sent him flying through a wall. The four officers continued up firing occasionally to slow down the zombies. Soon they made it to a door leading to the roof. Before one officer could reach it, he was sniped by Genocide, a bullet to the head killing him instantly. The remaining three made it out. They regrouped with the others already there, 12 in total, including Lary, Evans, and Gracia. This would be their final stand. They just had to hold out until Genocide made it up there. They just had to keep Genocide occupied until the helicopters arrived. Genocide slowly ascended the stairs behind his horde. On the roof, the remaining survivors faced off against waves of the undead. Evans recognized the attackers. These zombies were being controlled by nanomachines. He heard the stories of several weapons encountered by soldiers on the battlefield. These creatures were called Metaldeads as they were reanimated via machines. They had been officially banned by most of the worlds' governments for being unethical. However, this did not stop the technology from being spread still between shady organizations, terrorists, etc. Evans wondered how Genocide got this form of nanotechnology. Evans long speculated that the dark essence used by most of the killers they encountered was a a form of nanotech however it was different from anything else he had seen or heard about. The dark essence seemed to be an amalgamation of other types of nanotech. Evans had to save his inquiries for later. He reloaded his wristgun and took aim at the approaching group of Metaldeads. Gracia steadied her handgun and shot two Metaldeads in the head. From the single door countless arms seemed to spill forth from the darkness. The other officers took turns firing in intervals. this allowed them to create a steady stream of fire where no more that three guns needed to be reloaded at once. The horde seemed to thin out over time as if they were making progress. In actuality, the Metaldeads were just making room for Genocide to enter. Genocide exploded in a sprint from the door. Everyone fired upon the killer. Genocide had now chosen a wrist mounted mini flamethrower to use as his weapon. He stormed past the oncoming bullets taking some damage, but refused to slow down. He unleashed a stream of fire that caught five of the officers in one fell swoop. Gracia fired five rounds into Genocide's face. He stumbled back. Lary took the chance to fire several mine gun bullets at Genocide's feet. The mines quickly detected his movement and exploded. In seconds, Genocide was on his back.
Staring at the night sky Genocide saw the moon. He reached for it. He called for the darkness to give him more power. His wounds began healing. In the sky he could hear the whirl of propellers. There were six helicopters in total. The first two had evacuated the survivors while the others stayed to engage Genocide. Genocide got up and unstrapped the sniper rifle from his back. He stood before the searchlights as a black silhouette, cornered but unwilling to back down. Lary stared down at him smiling. "Okay!" He shouted, "Let's Tango!" Upon this declaration the second jamming device was activated. Now, isolated on the roof, Genocide's guns couldn't be fired and the helicopters were out of range of the device. Now Genocide stood like a sitting duck. A helicopter fired a rocket. Genocide side stepped and grabbed it. He turned his body redirecting the rocket to hit another helicopter. As it exploded Genocide drew his knife and threw it at another helicopter. Behind the knife was such force that it shattered the helicopter window's glass, embedding itself in the pilot. This helicopter too went down where it exploded. "Holy clucknuggets!Did you see that!?" Lary said dumbfounded. Evans looked out the helicopter door he was in jaw open in shock. "There's no way." He collected himself quickly and radioed the remaining two helicopters to keep moving and to use their machineguns as much as possible. The helicopters reigned down upon Genocide tearing apart his body. Shreds of leather and darkened blood sprayed across the pavement of the roof. Gracia watched as Genocide's body was destroyed repeatedly as it tried to heal. Surely he had to stop at some point. After 10 minutes the helicopters had exhausted their cache of ammunition and soldiers opted to fire their own rifles and occasionally throw grenades. After about six minutes, they too had run out of bullets. Genocide stood unfazed. He had long since healed himself and now appeared intangible with gunfire seeming to pass through his body. His coat once ripped , now appeared whole though on closer inspection seemed to writhe. Gracia looked in horror as she remembered the tales her adopted father had told her. Tales he had in turn heard from his predecessors. Every so often officers had reported encounters with ghost like beings cloaked in a cloud of living dark mist. The beings were rumored to be responsible for the deaths of multiple people ranging from scientists, veterans, mafia, politicians, etc. They were seen near such crime scenes and even more shockingly appeared around several sites where suicides were committed. These beings were reportedly impervious to bullets and filled anyone who got near with an impending sense of dread. If Genocide was connected to them or somehow turning into one , there was little chance they would be able to defeat him. Gracia's fears were confirmed when she saw that Genocide's leather coat had been destroyed and he had replaced it with the dark mist coalescing from his own spilled blood. The dark mist, swirling, grew larger and several tendrils sprouted out from it. Gracia could briefly make out a figure standing next to Genocide. A hooded figure cloaked in the same black substance. The figure stared up at her with soulless, blackened eyes which seemed to beckon her to jump from the aircraft she was standing in. Compelling her to give in to the death that plagued the earth. Genocide kneeled to his master. The Shinigami, Masataka stared down at his disciple. "You have done a great service to us. Even now the sealed god stirs in its slumber. Its...Awakening will soon be upon us. It calls out for war. It begs for famine. It longs to continue its conquest. We are the death it so desires. The death that is necessary for this civilization to grow. Use the power that I have bestowed upon you. Finish the mission as you see fit." The Shinigami vanished and Genocide stood.Genocide stared at his hands. He remembered the first killing spree. He was on a bus. It stopped. A woman got on the bus and walked to the back smiling as she passed him. Something about her eyes unnerved him. They were so bright but something dark reflected inside them. He ignored the thought and put in his headphones. In minutes he had dozed off. He jumped awake. He looked around and froze in panic. All around him, everyone had been hacked to pieces. He saw the driver, actively being stabbed by a masked assailant. The mask, painted white with black eyeholes, stared back at him. It raised a finger over where its lips would be. Even under the expressionless visage, he could feel that same smile. He ran home that morning. He went to his room to find it destroyed. His posters, his computer, his tv, everything, had been ruined. He turned around and saw a man at the end of the hallway holding a sledge hammer. "The hell you been, boy?", his stepdad sneered. The man dropped his hammer and walked closer, veins pulsing with rage. He tried to explain how his car had caught fire forcing him to walk 4 miles to the nearest bus stop, but the man's fist was faster than his words. "Boy!Answer me when I talk to you!!" the man says as he backhands the taste out of the would be Genocide's mouth. He took that beating for several minutes before being left to stare at his ransacked room. He hated how his stepdad went out of his way to destroy the things he loved. Soon, another set of footsteps could be heard. It was his mother standing behind his locked door. She didn't knock, or say anything. She just stood there, doing nothing as always. He never knew if she came to talk to him or apologize. All he knew was that she could never bring herself to speak to or even acknowledge him. Maybe out of guilt or perhaps shame. A year or two later after he had had enough he ran away from home. Living out on the streets alone, without friends, or family, he would embark on countless killing sprees. These killings weren't of his own volition however. He was coerced by some corrupt officers from The Unit. They made him kill on their behalf. Sometimes they were protesters, sometimes they were drug dealers, other times, petty criminals they couldn't be bothered to process. It was routine for him to be used to kill entire houses of drug riddled addicts. During one such venture he entered a drug den, killing the dealer as instructed. He took out several junkies before turning to leave. A woman who survived her injuries clung to his heel begging him to stop. Looking down he aimed the handgun he was carrying at her head of long disheveled brown hair and fired. Feeling nothing, he kicked her body aside like trash when it hit him. Her face. This woman had been his mother. What was she doing in a place like this? He felt a shock of emotion. He wondered if she had always been like this, or had she changed after he left. He never made amends, but decided to stop killing from then on. The unit did not like that. Once it became apparent that he was no longer of use to them they started a manhunt to apprehend him with lethal force. They found him. They killed him. But he survived.
He remembered the girl on the bus. He remembered her eyes. Those of a sadistic killer. Still there was something else inside them. Something faint but deeper. So. Much. Sadness. Just like him. He felt the hatred begin to spread. His purpose, he decided, was to make all humans rot in the hell they created for him.
These people, he thought to himself, these living diseases, all needed to die. Their struggles, their problems, they spread like cancer to others. The only cure for humanity's sin, its collective wrongdoings, was genocide.
Around him, dark tendrils continued to form and expand, spinning in a vortex. Genocide pulled out two pistols. He squeezed the triggers to no effect. "As I see fit, huh? Hehe." He squeezed both guns in his hands, breaking them into pieces. He concentrated. In his hands, two more guns materialized now completely black due to being forged from the dark essence. Forged by his will. Immune to the jamming device that shut down conventional firearms. He raised his arms at each remaining helicopter and opened fire. Countless tendrils whipped out and slashed at his targets joining the dark essence bullets. It was chaos. Dark tendrils and bullets tore through every direction as Genocide spun and swirled around in 360 degrees firing randomly with purpose. A tendril pierced Gracia's right arm, another, her abdomen. She was however, fortunate, as the other passengers of her helicopter were dismembered. She barely had time to jump from the vehicle before it crashed. She fell 2 yards onto solid concrete. She felt immense pain as her right shoulder shattered on impact. She looked up to see Genocide's blade like appendages ripping through the other escape helicopters. She rolled onto her back and tried to steady herself. Within seconds her body began to repair itself. The nanocells inside her had saved her life but were now depleted. She would need another supplement lest she receive another fatal injury. The standard nanocells she and the others had were much less potent than those of the killers they faced. In truth, they had only minimal strength boosts being able to lift 5-8 more pounds than before and healing being limited to one or two fatal injuries so long as death didn't occur instantly. Gracia blacked out. She awoke the next morning in a hospital. There the doctors refilled her nanocells. She learned that the station had been left in ruins. Genocide had detonated some type of minature nuke following his rampage. He always blew up the stations as if to send a message. Gracia looked out the window thinking about why she became a cop. Twice her family had been murdered by them. Her biological family had been killed in an on record drug raid committed by a group of corrupt officers called The Unit. She had been adopted by another officer that arrived at the scene who found her as a child hiding in a closed. Sadly, he too was killed for trying to expose the activities of The Unit. Gracia joined the force to avenge both losses and bring justice to the killers that disguised themselves as normal people. Law enforcement was neither good, nor bad. It depended upon the people that made it up. In the dying corrupt world Gracia lived in, she vowed to be a beacon of light. Evans laid in a bed adjacent to Lary. "That damn Genocide's somethin else in' he?Like the stories you told us were understatements. That man could legit not die at this point in the story. Like he has friggin plot armor or somthin.'' Evans cut him off" I get it. We all got our asses handed to us. But did you see that ..thing that appeared next to him. Right before he created that black vortex that wiped us out. That must have something to do with his power. Maybe there's a still a way to stop him."Lary chimed in," That fella looked like he was on the way to a black metal concert wit all the black facepaint he was wearin' Creeped me out to be honest." As the survivors mulled over their predicament, the cycle of evil continued to spread elsewhere.
Budley flips through the pages of a magazine. He checks his watch. He looks around the gas station and doesn't see any customers. Seizing the opportunity, he puts in his headphones and begins playing an imaginary guitar as he jams to a progressive deathcore album. Oblivious to the screams coming from outside, the store clerk moves on to thumping two candy bars on the counter to simulate drums. Budley sees that his shift has ended and begins locking up the store. He sweeps the aisles and jumps as a shadow appears behind him. He turns and sees a well groomed bearded man dressed in a black hoodie, black shirt, and black and gray camo pants. The man holds out his hand and smiles. Budley rings up the pack of nicotine substitute gum. "Tryin to kick the habit huh?" Budley asks. The man replies, "Somethin like that. Gotta get my priorities back in check. Focus on the things that really matter. That damn KonCreep's a hell of a band aren't they?" He nods to the playlist on Budley's phone. "Yeah, they're killer. just got into them a month back." Budley answers. "You know, I'm something of a musician myself. Maybe you'll hear of me on the news someday." Jim Jimenez says as he sees himself out. He walks to the back of the building and passes an ominous form of graffiti. A woman lays unmoving and above her, written on concrete in red is a message that simply says "Genocide Reigns".

My car's transmission is on the fritz, so it's in the shop and I'm working from home for at least today. Thank goodness I can even work from home, or things would be a lot more complicated. Anyways, that's just a bit of a vent. I've also decided that I might do little lore-esque prechapter bits for some extra flavor. Hope you guys enjoy them! I find them to be fun little thought experiments on how people might perceive the world I've created from within vs from my own perspective. Enjoy some crafting and some romance!
First Previous Next
We know that the spots that are caused by looking at a source of light are, in fact, damage of some sort to the eye. This is confirmed by the spots rapidly disappearing should someone be healed whilst experiencing them. But why? Is there a divinity within light, beyond what our mortal eyes can withstand? Is there some sort of invisible emanation that comes alongside the light that damages us in some way? The discovery of light damaging the eye has opened more questions for me than it has closed.
-Musings on the Relations of Light and Fire, by Jarwic Leftun
\***
Xander carefully opened the door, finding Gabrelle already asleep, and sat down on a chair. Maybe he could get that adaptive camouflage to work right on bright colors. Surely he had some colorful things in his inventory.
He did in fact have a few colorful things in his inventory, and he whiled the rest of the night away making small adjustments to the runic array that was embroidered into the cloth. He was satisfied before dawn, the cloth now performing as well with light colors as it had with darker colors. Now he just needed to make a cloak out of it. He briefly considered coating his armor with the array, but discarded it. There might be times where he’d want to be seen. Besides, a hooded cloak would better break up the outline of his figure, the ripples of fabric, especially if he were to crouch or lay prone, obscuring his outline even more. In little time at all, he had a long, deep hooded cloak of the color shifting, runed cloth in his hands. He stashed it in his inventory for now, as he had no particular need to sneak up on something right now. The rest of the time before dawn he spent silently sitting in the chair he’d chosen, trying to keep his thoughts to a minimum, just daydreaming. Night dreaming? He couldn’t sleep anymore, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t try to let his mind wander.
As the dawn came and the sun began to shine through the window of the room, Gabrelle slowly awoke, once more finding Xander sitting in a chair rather than in bed.
“Mmf,” She grunted as she stretched. “Morning, Xander. You got back late.”
“Morning, yourself,” Xander said, turning his head to look at Gabrelle. “Yeah... Yeah, I guess I did.”
“What were you doing, anyway?” She asked, curious. “You didn’t mention that you’d be out late, just that you were going to go to see Valteria at her shop.”
“I uh... went on a date.”
“I knew it! ‘Comparing notes’ was a date!” Gabrelle exclaimed triumphantly.
“It was not!” Xander complained. “But we went to a tavern in the evening and it sort of... turned into a date on the way there.”
“Awhh, that’s so cute,” Gabrelle said. “Did it go well? Is she nice? Did you kiss?”
“I think it went well. We talked a lot about different projects and ideas we had. I also got to meet another [Godsmarked] - he owns the tavern we went to. I think she’s nice. Maybe a little shy. I think she’s gotten used to being treated differently by people. I don’t think she really believed that I wanted to go on a date with her, at first. ...And yes. We kissed.”
“Ooooh, look at you! You’re growing up so fast!” Gabrelle teased.
“Oh hush. I’m older than you!” Xander huffed, then returned to seriousness. “But ah, if I’m going to be dating someone... we need to have a conversation, Gabrelle.”
“We need to stop sleeping together?” Gabrelle quickly deduced before Xander could say it himself.
“Yeah... It doesn’t feel right, even though it’s just platonic between us. I don’t think I would appreciate being in Valteria’s situation and knowing that the person I was seeing was sleeping with someone else at night.”
“Well, I figured this would happen eventually,” Gabrelle said. “Either you or I were bound to find someone eventually. Don’t worry, I’m not upset. Don’t get me wrong, the snuggles were nice, but like I told you a while ago, I don’t have nearly as much trouble sleeping when I’m with the team.”
“Thanks for not being upset, Gabrelle.”
“You know this means you have to start paying for your own room, though, right?”
“Ah, shit, you’re right. I forgot.”
Xander left the room to allow Gabrelle some privacy to get dressed and meandered back down the stairs to see if any other members of the team were already up. Looking around, he spied Graffus eating breakfast at at table and moved to sit with the dwarf.
“Mornin’” Graffus greeted Xander through a mouthful of bread.
“Morning,” Xander greeted back.
“Glad to see you made it back, we were wondering if you’d be out all night,” Graffus told him, after swallowing his bread.
“I was out a bit late, I suppose. I let the time get away from me.” Xander said, not really wanted to be teased again about going out on a date. “So what are you planning to do today?”
“Bah, Frazay has roped me into helping her do research for the drakeling. So reading is what’s in store for me.” Graffus tore himself off another piece of bread from his plate and slathered it with jam. “You going to be going back to that [Tinker] you’ve been spending time with lately?”
“Yeah, that’s the plan. I’m supposed to learn more about converting mana types today, and also help her fix the suit of armor that I wrecked.”
“Welp,” Graffus said, now on his last piece of bread, “I hope ya learn something new. Never had much to do with [Tinker]s – not saying I dislike them, just that I haven’t had much experience with them – so it don’t make much sense to me. Using a hammer is about the only overlap in our professions.”
“I think your hammer is significantly larger than the one most [Tinker]s would use,” Xander chuckled. Thinking about what he should be doing before he headed to Valteria’s, he asked Graffus, “Hey, I might need to buy some monster parts or elemental cores, something like that, for practice. You know where I would go to find stuff like that?”
Graffus shrugged. “Dunno. My guess would be an alchemy and reagents shop. That’s generally what we’ve sold monster parts to that didn’t go to a smith or leatherworker.”
“Thanks, Graffus.”
The two of them chatted for a while longer, catching up on what each other had been doing. Graffus excused himself to finish getting ready for the day, saying he needed to tend to his beard, leaving Xander downstairs. Deciding to be productive and proactive, Xander stood as well and headed out of the inn to find an alchemy shop.
It wasn’t long before he found one, a familiar scene of an eclectic collection of powders, liquids, crystals, and strange organic things floating in jars inside the building. The proprietor was a dwarf, seated at a workbench. They were grinding something into a powder as Xander entered. He received a distracted greeting before the dwarf returned to his work.
Xander wandered about the shop for a few minutes, looking at the various materials throughout the shop. He identified what he thought might be an elemental core, a jagged piece of crystal looking material that seemed to have an inner flame. As for the monster parts in jars, Xander had no idea what was what. He finally felt he’d waited long enough and moved closer to the worktable that the dwarf was still sitting at, working away at the mortar and pestle.
“Excuse me,” Xander said, grabbing the shopkeep’s attention.
“Mm?” The dwarf said questioningly. “Can I help you find something?”
“I was wondering if you had any elemental cores. Something small, I just need one to practice with.”
“Aye, I’ve a few of them around the shop. You want something to practice with? So a relatively weak core, then – not all the small ones are weak. Do you need any particular type?” The dwarf stood up and stretched, moving to one of the shelves.
“Uhm no, just whatever is cost effective, I suppose.”
The alchemist rifled through the various bits and bobs on one of the shelves nearby before producing a small chip of what looked to be a semi-translucent stone. It was tinged slightly yellow with streaks of white. “This here is a chip off a lightning attuned core. Pretty weak, but it does still produce mana.”
Xander could see the dwarf’s arm hair standing up as if from static electicity as he held up the stone. “How much?” He asked.
“Twenty gold.”
Xander shrugged. Twenty gold wasn’t an issue for him anymore, and he didn’t feel like haggling. He always hated haggling. “Sure.” He fished out the coin and handed it over to the dwarf.
The dwarf handed over the stone to Xander and the pop of a static electric shock could be heard as a tiny arc passed between the two of them. The dwarf grunted and shook his hand. “Thanks for the business,” he told Xander. “Anything else you find yourself in need of?”
“Not at the moment, but thanks for asking.” Xander waved goodbye to the dwarf and pocketed the tiny elemental core. He continued down the street in the direction of Valteria’s shop, thinking about how he was going to undo the welding job he’d done on Valteria’s armor. He’d need her to guide his repair efforts.
Xander returned to the inn momentarily to grab one of his golems. He settled on Atlas for now, as it was the most basic of the humanoid forms he’d created. No extra arms or weird feet on him, no sir.
Arriving at the building that contained Valteria’s home and shop, Xander knocked before opening the door. “Morning,” he called out.
“Xander! Hello!” Valteria called out. She was at the same work bench she’d been at yesterday. Jarrett didn’t seem to be in the shop at the moment, as Xander wasn’t able to spot the man.
Commanding Atlas to follow him in and closing the door behind him, Xander started walking towards Valteria. “How’s it going?” He asked.
“Good, it’s going good,” Valteria responded as Xander brought a stool over to her workbench. “How about yourself?”
“Not bad. The upside of not sleeping is that I never struggle in the mornings now. I used to hate waking up.” Xander laughed. “I even ran an errand before I came here! Picked up this.” Xander fished around in his pocket until he found the small chip of elemental core and held it up for Valteria to see.
“Core?” She asked distractedly, staring at Atlas. She tore her eyes away and looked closely at the small crystalline stone. “Lightning attuned?”
“That’s what the [Alchemist] at the shop said,” Xander affirmed. “Said it was a very weak one, but that it did still produce mana.”
“Mmm, a good practice piece, then.”
“I thought it would be, too. Not that I know what to do with it, yet.”
“Well, how about this: I teach you to set the stone and make some conduit, and then you can help me fix my armor. All the glue has turned to dust by now, thank the gods.”
“Sounds fair enough. So, how do mana conduits work?”
“Well, the concept is simple enough. It’s a tube which conducts mana,” Valteria began to explain.
“Mmhm.” Xander nodded along.
“What you need is a setting – usually of silver, as it has good mana conductivity – which will be the first step of conduction, taking the mana from the stone. Simply wrapping the core in silver wire can work well enough, drawing in the mana that the core puts out through its surface, but for a more effecient setting, small holes are usually drilled into the core to set the wire into as well, giving more surface area to draw from.”
“So we care about the mana conductivity of the material, then? That makes sense, I just hadn’t thought about it. I actually did a little experiment with my rune work to test which fillings were the most conductive.”
“Oh really?” Valteria said, interested. “What were your results?”
“Well, gold and silver were high up there in conductivity, and probably make the most sense for someone who has to physically manipulate material without use of a skill – both for a core setting and for inlaying a rune – but I did find that sapphires and rubies were even more efficient at transferring mana than gold and silver.”
“Mmm... interesting. I’ve heard of gemstones being used in very high-grade settings, as well as various other exotic materials. I read an account of one [Mechanist] who used tubes of mercury to conduct mana, though the relative effectiveness compared to silver wasn’t mentioned.” Valteria cleared her throat. “Uhm, now, where was I? Right, basic settings. Once you have your core – or monster organ, if you’re going that route – you connect it to the conduit. Usually, this is also silver wiring. I like to braid several smaller wires together, personally. I find it to be sturdier and hold up to flexing better. From there, it needs to be tied into a device. Which is a topic for tomorrow.” Looking around the shop, Valteria seemed to identify something on one of the shelves nearby. “I have a core that you could watch me set, and then you could try setting your own, if you’d like.”
“That sounds good to me,” Xander said. “I always love to see a master as work,” he added, opting for a little flattery.
“Follow me, then.” Valteria said, standing up from her stool and waving for Xander to follow.
Xander followed Valteria as she walked over to the shelf she’d been looking at earlier and took a palm sized, bright green stone from it. “Nature attuned core,” She explained, holding it for Xander to see. “I’m told it was taken from some kind of moving tree.” Valteria then moved to another worktable, on which were several of what looked to be drill bits to Xander. There was also an apparatus that look like it was designed to hold the bits, which was confirmed for him when Valteria slotted one of the small drill heads into the device. “This thing,” Valteria said, waving the drill a little bit, “is a life saver. I used to have to drill holes with a hand cranked one. Worth every single coin I paid for it to get an enchanted one.” She turned a dial on one side of the handheld device, which Xander was coming to think of as a magic dremel tool, and it began to come to life, the drill bit beginning to spin with a quiet whirring sound.
“Neat.” Xander commented. He watched patiently as Valteria drilled a series of shallow holes in the stone, the distinct screeching of metal on stone echoing through the shop floor. “So where’s Jarrett today?” He asked.
“Oh, he has the day off today. He asked for it about a week ago, not sure what for, though,” Valteria said distractedly. Soon she was finished with the holes she was drilling into the core, and moved to another workbench. “Now we create a setting for the core. This is a fairly simple way of doing it, mind you, but it is effective.”
Xander watched as she took sections of pre-braided silver wire and fitted the ends into the holes she had drilled. Once each hole was filled with a section of wire, Valteria began to pull wire from a spool, wrapping the stone until it was completely covered with silver wire and binding the braided sections to the stone in the process. “There,” she said, setting the stone down on the workbench. “A perfectly serviceable setting."
“So, if I understand correctly, you coat the core in a mana conductive material – the more surface area, the better, hence the holes – to create a setting?”
“Mmhmm,” Valteria said, nodding.
“Seems fairly straighforward. And then you connect the silver wiring that’s wrapped around it to more wiring, and attach that to your device? Why the distance? Why not just connect the setting directly to the device?”
“You absolutely can, if space isn’t an issue. Technically, the connection between the mana battery and the device, even if it’s just a single point with no distance, is still referred to as a conduit, though, so it’s considered a three part creation.”
“Oh, I see.”
“Do you want to try making your own, now? I don’t mind lending you a little wire.”
“Sure, but I should be good on material, I can produce it with my skills. Doesn’t last without a source of mana, but I guess the core itself might provide enough. Think this little chip is a bit small to put holes in, though.”
Xander looked at the small piece of crystal in his hand. If he just need as much contact as possible with a mana conductive material, his best bet would be to embed it into a sapphire or ruby. He decided on ruby, for no particular reason. Still holding the chip of core in his hand, he concentrated on his [Creation] ability. Valteria watched, amazed, as a ruby began to take form and grow around the piece of core until it was completely coated in a thin layer of gemstone.
“So, you can just... make things?” Valteria asked, sounding jealous.
“Well, it costs mana, and anything I make that isn’t provided a source of mana that leaves my person disintegrates in a day, but, yes. I can just make things with my skills. But,” he added, cutting off Valteria’s complaint of unfairness, “I have never received a skill that actually lets me improve a material. Sure, I have runes, which generally makes up the difference, but I don’t have any skills that improve the things I make. So, if you made a mana battery, and I made a mana battery the same way with identical materials, yours is going to be better, I assume, because you have skills that passively improve the things that you make, am I right?”
“Okayyy,” Valteria huffed. “I guess that does make it a little less unfair. But ugh! It would be so nice not having to source materials.” She looked at the ruby with a piece of core set inside it that Xander had made. “Well, I guess that about does it for making a setting... I thought it might have taken you longer to make one. I guess we can move on to fixing my armor even sooner! It’ll be nice to have it up and moving again.”
“Sure, sure, we can do that. Where is it, anyway?” Xander asked, looking around the shop again like he somehow would have missed the eight foot tall suit of armor.
“It’s in a shed behind the house,” Valteria explained. “I have it on a hoist so I can work on it.”
“Ah, that would explain why I haven’t seen it around.”
Exiting the shop, stopping for Valteria to put a small ‘closed’ sign on the door, the two of them made their way around the building, where Xander saw the small shed that presumably held Valteria’s armor. It looked like it could just barely hold the armor and one person – two, if they were comfortable with each other – inside it.
“So this is where the magic happens?” Xander asked.
“If by ‘magic’ you mean maintenance and upgrades, then yes,” Valteria agreed. She opened the door of the shed, which comprised most of the front of the tiny little building, revealing her suit of armor, which was currently hanging from several chains attached to pulleys on the ceiling. Plates of armor were laying strewn about the suite, leaving the joints and inner workings more exposed.
Xander whistled, looking at the inner workings of the suit. He could see gears, cogs, and joints, and throughout the entirety of the armor were running filaments of silver wire, which he assumed were mana conduits running to and from elemental cores and the various mana powered aspects of the suit. “This thing really is impressive. Almost as impressive as the woman who made it,” he said.
Valteria giggled, “Stop it! You’re supposed to be fixing this mess, not flirting with me!”
“Awh, can’t I do both?” Xander asked, trying to sound as saccharine as possible.
“Mmm, I suppose that if you are sufficiently skilled at multitasking, I might allow it,” Valteria said in a mockingly thoughtful tone.
“Well, I just so happen to be an expert, so flirt away I shall,” Xander replied. “Now, how about the beauty in front of me shows me exactly where the other beauty in front of me needs some repairs?”
Valteria sighed at Xander’s antics, but he could see the slight flush in her face. “Well, you welded the wrist joints, elbows, and knees. They aren’t welded all the way round, it’s more like you smoothed over a portion of it like it was wet clay. So if you could just... put it back? Shape it back to how it was, that’s should be all that’s needed.”
“Pretty straightforward,” Xander said, standing behind Valteria as she pointed out each joint. He could see the misshapen parts where he’d slapped a weld onto the metal. He leaned over her and put his hands on the elbow joint that they were closest to and began to shape the metal back to its original form.
“You’re... very close,” Valteria murmured to him as he formed the metal.
“Would you like me not to be?” He asked, carefully.
Valteria was silent for a moment before answering, “No...” quietly.
Xander carefully shifted to be a little closer, but still not quite touching, as he moved on to the wrist joint of the same arm. The process itself was simple, but he was enjoying taking his time. As he finished the wrist, he turned to look at Valteria. He found himself looking right into her eyes, as she was staring back at him. Unable to resist the temptation he leaned in a little closer, gauging Valteria’s reaction. When she, too, leaned towards him, he closed the small gap between them, drawing her into another kiss. Valteria pressed herself against him, the shed hiding them from any prying eyes on the street, and let out a small noise as Xander squeezed her tight. She was breathing a little bit harder than before the kiss as they separated again.
Valteria let out a breath. “You’re… a really good kisser.”
“Yeah?” Xander said, pleased with himself. “You’re not so bad yourself.”
“And you’re a tease, looming over me like that in this tiny little shed,” Valteria continued. “Now you’ve got me all flustered, how am I supposed to work now?” She mock complained.
Xander was glad to see that Valteria was comfortable enough with him to joke like that. “Forgive me,” he said formally, making a deep bow, “How ever can I make it up to the lady?”
“Oh stop it, I will tolerate no bowing and scraping, even in jest,” Valteria said, slapping him lightly on the shoulder, as he was still holding the bow. “You can make it up to me by fixing the rest of these joints! And by taking me out to dinner?” She added, hopefully.
“I think that can be arranged,” Xander said. “Is there anywhere you have in mind? I will admit, I haven’t become very familiar with the local restaurant scene, what with my… dietary restrictions.”
“It doesn’t… make you feel bad to go out to a restaurant, does it?” Valteria asked softly, watching his face for a reaction.
“Nah, don’t worry,” Xander said, waving off the question with one hand. “It doesn’t bother me too much. Sure, I miss the taste of a good cut of steak, but I was never that into food. Eating was more of a thing I did because I had to, so I’m not completely devastated by the loss. And I can still get some vicarious enjoyment out of watching someone else enjoy their food. Really the worst part is awkwardly having to refuse ordering anything,” he said with a laugh.
“Alright, if you say so,” Valteria said, letting out a slight breath of relief. “I was just worried that it might be upsetting to you, is all. I know I would miss eating.” She paused for a moment, something clearly on her mind. “What do you miss? If you don’t mind my asking. I just… well, I’m curious what it’s like for you.”
“Mmm, in a lot of ways, life is still the same, and in other ways, I’m technically doing better than I was before. I’m incredibly resistant to damage now, even without my armor. I do miss sleeping, though. I try to give my mind a rest and just sort of daydream and let my thoughts wander or do some meditation during the nights, but it’s just not the same. Also means I’m the one that pulls guard duty through the night,” he grumbled. “Let’s see, what else, what else. Ah, right. I can’t smell anything. Or taste. I haven’t worked out how to recreate those senses, yet. Though no sense of smell can be handy sometimes, I suppose. I don’t know if you’ve done much merc work – you mentioned being surprised that I’m not just moonlighting – but uh… the smells that you encounter on a battlefield are… unpleasant. To say the least. It was weird not having a sense of touch either, but I’ve resolved that. It’s a little bit different than my previous, natural sense of touch, but I’ve become accustomed to it to the point that I don’t much think about the difference anymore. I think I’ve even got the density of receptors down in certain areas compared to others, so I'm more sensitive in some areas than others now, just like I used to be. I’m still immune to being tickled though, so don’t even think about it – that’s a fight you’ll lose.” Growing a bit more somber, Xander continued on. “I think… the biggest thing I miss is just the feeling that I fit in more. Now I always worry about being different, there’s that nagging fear that anyone I get to know well is going to reject me once they find out what I am. Like I’m secretly lying to everyone around me with this façade I have going on.”
Valteria nodded sadly. “I get that. I’ve been… rejected before, too. At least it happens or not right from the beginning for me. I get to know if they look down on me for being different immediately instead of fearing they might later down the road.”
“Yeah,” Xander said. “People can really suck sometimes. But at least I can just, like, not tell people what I am if I so chose. You, my teammates, and the guild, since it’s on my status sheet, are really the only people who know. I keep it pretty private. You can’t do that, so I think you probably have to deal with a lot worse than I do. Not that I’d want you to hide what or who you are,” he added. “I happen to be quite enamored with who you are,” he said, teasing a smile from Valteria’s sad face.
“Sorry to bring up such a dour topic,” Valteria apologized. “I didn’t think much on it before I asked.”
“No worries,” Xander told her. “Honestly, I think it’s good to be able to talk about it with someone. It’s healthy to be able to get you feelings out there. And it helps that I feel like you understand where I’m coming from with it, though from a slightly different perspective.”
“You’re surprisingly thoughtful sometimes,” Valteria said, only half teasing.
“Only sometimes?” Xander asked with a faux expression of hurt on his face. “By the way, you didn’t react much to my comment about moonlighting as a merc. Do you ever go on contracts?”
Valteria shrugged. “I certainly wouldn’t describe myself as a professional mercenary. Moonlighter is an apt descriptor, for me, I think. I have gone on a couple, here and there, mostly on kill contracts that would net me a core or organ that would be useful for my work.”
“Mm, that makes sense. I suppose it could be handy having access to the ability to take contracts that would give you access to specialty materials,” Xander said.
“It’s also good for business,” Valteria explained. “Mercs tend to like to buy from someone who has at least been out on a contract or two before.”
“Ah, that makes sense. What kind of things do you sell to mercenaries, anyways? I saw Jarrett with a crossbow yesterday, but I imagine you make other things, too.”
“Oh all kinds of little things. Portable, flameless heaters for cooking. Water purification sieves. Mm, let’s see… I’ve made a few custom order devices, too. One customer wanted to be able to shoot a jet of flame from their gauntlet, that was a fun one.”
“Ooh, that does sound fun… reminds me of my flamethrower.”
“Your flamethrower?”
“Yeah, it’s basically a big tank with a hose attached to it. At the end of the hose is a pump that causes the flammable liquid – I use dragon’s tar – to shoot out. Add a flame that the tar passes over and bam! You’ve got a giant stream of flame that will coat anything it hits with sticky, flammable tar,” Xander said, excitedly describing the device.
“That’s… impressive. And kind of horrifying,” Valteria responded.
“Mm… I guess you’re right. I mostly use it on giant spiders. Blugh,” Xander shuddered. “But yeah, I suppose it’s not the nicest of ways to go. Very effective for area denial, though. Ah, actually I have an idea for crossbow bolt head that would ignite when it shatters! We should make that sometime and see if it sells.”
“Hmm, I think that would draw some buyers. A flaming bolt head you didn’t have to light first could be desirable to certain buyers.”
“Put that on the list and we’ll get around to it sometime.”
“We have a list?” Valteria said confusedly.
“We should!” Xander said with a laugh. “Now let’s get the rest of these joints done.”
The repair of the other arm and the leg joints that Xander had locked into position during the tournament was a short affair. Looking over the bare metal frame of the armor still hanging from the ceiling, Xander clapped his hands together, mimicking dusting them off. “Good as new!” He exclaimed. Looking over to Valteria he asked concernedly, “It is good as new, right?”
Valteria had been staring at the armor as well, lost in thought about how she was going to improve it next. “Hmm? Oh, yes. It’s right as rain again, ready for use. Thank you, by the way. For fixing it,” She said awkwardly.
“Well I’m the one who broke it, so it’s only fair that I fix it. So what do you want to work on next?” Xander asked. “I could do some rune work for you. Orrr… we could kiss some more?”
Valteria flushed at the question, but didn’t immediately say no.
A few minutes later, she found herself on her tip toes and lightly pressed against the interior wall of the shed, her lips pressed against Xanders.
Once the two of them were done acting like teenagers parked in a secluded parking lot, they made their way back into the shop. Stepping inside and closing the door behind them, Valteria let out a breath. “I think… you are going to have to do a lot of rune work to make up for how much you just kissed me, Xander.”
“What, you didn’t like it?” He said with a raised eyebrow.
“I didn’t say that,” Valteria said with a smirk.

A couple of years ago I tried writing my own version of Stones Abbigale. I never got past the first couple scenes, but I'm considering returning to it. I wanted to basically rewrite and change up a lot of things, mainly focusing on Abbi and Davis and changing some elements. Let me know what you think!

1
It's almost four in the morning and Seth is threatening suicide again. Good. Fuck him. I hope he does it. I don't text him that because I read about this girl who told her boyfriend to kill himself. The irony was that when he actually did it she got charged with second degree murder. My life is fucked as it is I don't need to make it worse. It's almost two in the morning and I have to be up for school in a few hours. I’m shivering under my comforter because we’re halfway through November. I think about the turkey that won't get made this year and the family I won't see. I think that's swell. Seth is still texting.
Its like u dont even care after everything that happened and after everything we did together i saved ur life and i stayed with u when u cried and i hugged u and i did everything for u but that wasn't enough was it? i try so hard and all u ever are is a bitch to me that's not fair u want me to die and u hate me and u dont even care and im sick of it abbi why is is so hard for u to care about me?
I don't respond. I don't like how I feel about this. This should be easy. He won't actually do it. He won't. He’s too self involved to kill himself. I put my phone face down on my bed. The sheets shake around it as he sends message after message. I was sleeping on a ticking bomb so I got off of it. My feet stick to the floor, I struggle to step. I might as well have been standing barefoot on ice. I trudge to my window so I can see my street at night. Winter is really coming. You can't hear as many birds as you used to. They've all gone. They've all flown away. I can see three streetlights from where I’m standing. If you can from right to left you can see the concrete fracture into the sand. I open my window and brace for the chill. I stick my head outside. The ocean is not far away. I hear it hitting the shore over and over. Waves of water splashing incessantly, almost beating out my text notifications. The street lights flicker. I think of last summer. When Seth and I got really high after the news broke that my Mom was cheating on my Dad. I was making out with that bong. Emptying bowl after bowl, clanking the glass on the road to empty it out. Just thinking about it makes me feel the street pole against my back again. I was laughing and crying. Seth leaned in and hugged me. “I’m a sure thing,” he said. “I love you and I always will.” I caught my reflection in his sunglasses. I looked awful. I shiver at the memory. My phone is still buzzing. I try to catch my breath. I shut my window and start to walk back to my bed. A room always looks different in the dark. Maybe you think you know where you are, but there is always something that can jump out at you on the floor. Like a ghostly paper bag or a vengeful shoe. Objects that seem to move on their own with the sole drive of tripping you. I crawl back into bed. There's the phantom of Dad’s snoring . I know he's not sleeping in his room, he fell asleep on the couch after finishing his seventh fifth. Sometimes my brain fills in the gaps so I can hear it everywhere. Funnily, I haven't actually heard him snore since Mom left. That's the one thing I ever heard them fight about. Before she turned out to be a whore, I guess. BZZT.BZZT.BZZT. I can't bring myself to read any of his messages. They're coming so fast all the paragraphs are lost to motion blur. Seth’s arms wrap around me and I think about the beating of his heart and the warmth of his lips against my skin. I open up the texts, ready to respond.
I love you
I text this over and over until I fall asleep.
Davis was the only senior on the bus. Somehow, everyone else had a car or a ride. It’s all right, though. James would probably give him one if he had a car, but he skated to school every morning. That's why he barely ever rode the bus with him. The bus thumped along the under paved roads. Davis forgot his earbuds at home, so the only music that accompanied him was his racing thoughts. Two sophomore girls popped their heads over. “Ohmigod, Davis!” One of them shrieked.. “As I live and breathe,” he smiled. “Nice,” she said. “I’m so excited to see your finished painting.” Davis took the lower level art class for a requirement. Like most things, he's not taking it very seriously. For their pop art unit, he's painting a portrait of the art teacher with a warthog face. It's one of his funny disruptions. He knows Mrs. Stanley is going to have a real field day with it, but it doesn't matter. Artistic liberties, he’d profess. “She's such a bitch, isn't she?” The sophomore girl turns to her compatriot, who only nods in response. “She's just jealous,” Davis says. “It must be depressing to teach art and see the youth soar above her.” “For sure,” the girl doesn't get it. Class clown is a semi-heavy burden. Davis doesn't really feel like talking to these girls, but his position demands it. Comedy informs everything about him. To the giant thrift store jeans, to the loud Hawaiian shirt. He and James are the ultimate combination, at least he likes to think so. Quiet brooding begs for bright distraction. The girl is still trying to talk to him and Davis is saying his preprogrammed lines. The bus stops in front of James’s street. Surprisingly, James is standing there. “Like I’m this close to just filling my hydroflask with vodka, yaknow?” says the chick. Maybe she's just trying to get a rise out of him. “Better be prepared to give me more than a sip,” Davis is watching James grumble towards the bus. The sun is beating down on the forming ice puddles. James stomps through them with small shattering steps. James turns up the bus aisle and plops in the seat next to Davis. Davis’s smile is genuine now, but he fights it from getting too wide. “Crash your vehicle?” Davis asks. “Something like it,” there's something off with him. Davis doesn't want to push it. “Well damn, hope insurance covers it,” Davis wants James to break and laugh. Is it just another mood or did something actually happen this time? “It won't, I got bad credit,” James grins and it's like heaven. “What's the move for you today?” “Surviving art and physics for me,” says Davis. “Those bastards love to keep me down.” “Who doesn't,” James eyes the girls who have since returned to whatever they were doing before. It's the judgement stare, as Davis calls it. James likes to observe his peers like a zoo-goer. Breaking them down to taxonomic types. Davis likes to think that James doesn't do this to him, but he knows he probably does. “It sucks you decided to be bad at school and take baby art,” James is still dissecting the sophomore girls down to their tropes. “We could have done Art II together.” “I wouldn't want to get between you and Alex. I know how you love it when people piss in jars next to you.” “That's disgusting,” James breaks his glare at the girls. “It's performance art, it's beautiful,” Davis gets up out of his seat to yell. “Everyone witness the wonderful work of Alex Madov! Disengage yourself from the shackles of capitalism by shouting with me: Poopy, pee pee, poop!” Davis gets a few chuckles from the other kids on the bus. “Sit down, fatso,” mumbles the bus driver. “I will not be silenced! I’m a messenger of the good word, sir!” “More of this shit and I’m skipping your stop!” “Fine, but I will make Alex remember on the day of judgement,” Davis sits back down. James is full belly laughing. “You're so retarded,” James wheezes. Davis can't even come back with a response. He's high off of it.
The bus pulls into the school lot with a short stop. The mobs get up and begin to race out. Davis follows James down the line. “You know Abbi?” James asks. Davis feels a little pit form in his stomach, but he doesn't change his expression. “Vaguely, what about her?” “She's in my art class,” James begins. “And I think … well you know, I’m going to talk to her.” He walks down the steps and out the door. “Doesn't she have a boyfr-” before Davis can descend the driver's arm blocks him. “I’ve had enough of your shit, kid,” he says. “If you keep being obnoxious, I’m gonna find a way to make you pay for it.” James looks back, but he can't stay. Davis knows that he's gotta get to class. James does a little wave goodbye and Davis salutes him. “Are you even listening to me?” the bus driver seethes. “Yes, sir. Divine retribution, got it.” Davis ducks underneath his arm and exits the bus. James has already disappeared into the crowd.
I pass the bong to Ashley. She starts another bowl. She’s the transport and I provide the material. The little things that keep our friendship afloat. I look at the clock in her car. “It's 8:45,” I pick a piece of bagel out of my teeth. “So that's it, we officially missed first period,” Ashley tops it off. “They won't mark us, you know. It's a study.” “Yeah, but when's the last time we signed in? I heard they're changing the policy again. Do you still have the lighter?” I toss it to her. I don't get it. It's always her idea to pick me up so we can smoke before school, why now is she suddenly caring about attendance? “We're pretty girls, we can get out of it. I’m next,” I tap on the clock. “Are you sure it's not fast?” She shakes her head as she takes a snap. We're parked in the pond area a block or two from the school. It's our designated smoking spot. I like it, even at the end of fall it's pretty. I’m so engrossed that I don't realize her tip out the bowl and put it back in the cup holder. “I don't know if it's wise to keep up the activity, we should probably get going soon,” she starts up her car again. “Okay,” I say. She reverses and swings out of the lot. We lean into the silence and it's super weird. “Seth texted me last night,” I wait for her reaction. “Oh,” she grimaces. “What did you say?” “That I loved him.” Silence again. Ashley's trying to put together something well-meaning while understanding that I’ll probably ignore whatever she has to say. “Abbi, I’m not trying to tell you how to run your life, but …” Her expression is now quizzical. She's said what she is about to say a number of different ways all ready. She thinks and thinks and decides to say nothing. Good call, I would have screamed at her. Not because what she thinks about my situation isn't true, I’m just in a ‘screaming at people mood’ because of it. “I’m going to dye my hair again,” she changes the subject to avoid conflict. Classic Ash. “Oh yeah? What color this time?” “I don't know,” she checks her reflection in the rear view. “The red has faded out, maybe blue or pink this time.” “You should go with a softer pink,” I say. “Since you're a soft spring.” “Yeah, maybe.” We enter the school lot. “Listen, do you want to get together when I do it? Maybe you can dye your hair too.” “I don't know, I might be busy,” I say. “Seth might want to do something,” I pause for her to protest. “Okay,” she says. She parks and we get out.
I barrel into art class. I don't care if I reek, out of all the teachers I can tell Mrs. Stanley smokes the most. It would be hypocritical of her to care. It looks like I’m the first one. Weird. I check my phone. It's 8:45. Well, fuck. Looks like Ashley needs to fix her clock. Mrs. Stanley is at her desk. She looks at me knowingly. “Eager to create today, Abbi?” I just nod and sit at my desk. I’m really feeling it. I open up my precalc notebook and just start sketching. Birds, eyes, trees, whatever. Kids start coming in. Their chatter echoes around me, I try to focus on what I’m doing. Someone bumps into my table. I look up. It's this lanky blonde kid, I think his name is James. He presses his hands underneath the desk as he leans up to talk to me. “Eww!” He shouts. Some kids turn and laugh. I don't. I just stare at him. James goes red and sits next to the kid who pissed in a jar. Once an adequate amount of students are in the room, Mrs. Stanley starts her lesson slideshow. On the screen is a dirty urinal. “How many of you are familiar with this work by Marcel DuChamp?” she asks. At this point, Jason, the designated meathead jock, enters the room. “Sorry I’m late, Mrs. S,” he booms. He looks at the slide. “We building bathrooms today?” Mrs. Stanley glares at him. “Wouldn't you like that? Considering you spend all of your time in there.” “Whatever,” Jason brushes his mullet behind his ears. “No, not whatever. Would you like me to move you into the sophomore class with Davis? Believe it or not he's getting much better marks than you are getting in here.” Jason rolls his eyes and takes his place in the chair next to me. “Up to a little extra curricular activities before art, Abbi?” he motions a joint in his fingers. I scoff and go on my phone. There's another text from Seth.
sorry about last night
and
im reading it all right now that was fucked im sorry
I start to respond, but before I can Mrs. Stanley outstretches her hand. “Give me your phone, Miss Hagerty. I’m sick of giving you warnings.” I don't have the energy to fight, I just give it to her. “You can pick it up at the end of the day.” My jaw actually drops. Jason must have really set her off, she's not usually such a cunt to me. “Anyways, found art. What is it? Well, found art is the use of everyday objects to convey an altered meaning. It can be something you find on the street or something that once held value to you. For example, My Bed by Tracey Elim.” She pulls up a picture of a messy bed that looks suspiciously like my own. “So for your final unit of the semester, you will be making your own found art. I really want you to take this project a little more seriously than most of you have been taking this class. I’m giving you the privilege of picking your own partners, but I’d like to remind you to be thoughtful with your choice. This will be worth more for your grade.” I look around. I don't have any friends here. I toy around with the idea of asking Jason for convenience and he looks like he's about to pull that move. Behind me there's that James guy. He’s sheepishly looking at me. He seems kind of nice. Okay. I don't feel like getting up so I just turn around in my chair. “Hey James, wanna be partners?” He balks a bit and then smiles at me. “Yeah, totally,” He's beaming and it's somewhat endearing. Alex and I switch seats and now I’m next to him. “I’m gonna be real with you …” I begin. He stops and shifts a little. “I have no idea what we're supposed to be doing for this.” He regards me oddly. Like he's trying to piece me together. It doesn't bother me. “She said we have to bring in an object that's special to us and present it artistically basically,” he rubs his chin. Damn, I must be baked to hell. I didn't hear her saying that at all. “So got any stuffed animals we can cut up and make Lovecraftian monstrosities out of?” “I got a hamster cage, hold the hamster,” I say. It comes out kind of weird and I probably sound stupid, but he doesn't seem to care. “Let's make a fucking zoo.” “Perfect!” He’s kind of cute actually. In a way. Something about this feels fun. I realize the bell will ring soon. “So um,” I rip out a page of my precalc notebook, still fresh with my drawings. I scrawl out my number and push it to him. “Call me so we can figure out the project some more.” I pack up all my stuff and start to head out. I can feel him watching me and it's not that bad. “I sure will,” he says. Everything feels really groovy. There's a lightness now. I’m halfway out the door when I remember my phone. I can't believe that I just forgot about Seth. I think about begging for my phone, but I feel too above that. Still, something shakes the good feeling as the bell rings.

To be honest, I wasn't sure that the Advice sub would let me post this there so I'm posting it here because it's so fucked up. And it didn't seem right for Let's Not Meet, either. But I do need advice, because I feel I'm losing my fucking mind.
So I (30F) have always been very close to my cousin (30F), let's call her Angela. Because we're the same age, our parents (my mom and her father are siblings) went through all the same stages with us and as such, we were more or less raised like siblings due to how much time our families spent together.
We even had homes in the country in the same township, which is where I think this happened. And I can't really tell my family this because it will make me sound legitimately crazy. And some part of me even doubts this memory, but at the same time I know in my heart that it's true. It's a complicated feeling, and this memory was brought to light last week when my suspicion I've had for years was more or less confirmed.
One winter, sixteen years ago, when Angela and I were both fourteen, both of our families were at our cottages, a twenty minute drive from each other. Angela and her little brother (my cousin, let's call him James) parents (my aunt and uncle) were going skiing one morning, and I wanted to go too. So I spent the night at their cottage, like I often did when we all went up north.
Angela's bedroom had two single beds in it, and James' room was down the hall. The whole house was open concept, so the hall from Angela's room to James' room did not have walls, but rather was bordered by two railings over which you could see down into the main floor, the open concept living and dining rooms.
James is four years younger than us, and when he was 10, he was such a typical little boy/little brother, it's almost cartoonish to look back on. Like, I'm talking *constantly* bothering us, putting a stink bomb on a remote control car that he would sneak into our rooms, trying to read Angela's diary when we weren't in her bedroom, just all the stuff. But never anything cruel or out of the ordinary or sinister, just a massive handful.
The basement of James and Angela's cottage was filled with storage and old toys, and sometimes (on the rare occasion) that we'd willingly play with James, we'd all go down to the basement and try to freak each other out. Anyway, one of the toys in the basement was your typical Raggedy-Ann doll from the 60s or something. I think it belonged to my uncle when he was a kid and then Angela when she was a baby. Her name was Trilly. I forget who named it. Anyway, I have vague memories of playing with it when we were much younger and pretending it was our third cousin or our little daughter. But since then she'd sat in storage in the basement.
But, what great nightmare material! Right?! A creepy, limp, smiling doll. So the night I stayed over, before we went skiing in the morning, James, Angela and I were up to our playing in the basement, and I remember we tried to freak James out by pretending Trilly was alive or something like that. Whatever. Game over, we all had dinner with the parents, then watched a movie as a family and went to bed. James to his room and Angela and me to Angela's room.
Now this is the thing. Angela and I still joke about this night, and she remembers it just like I do, which is why I sort of wrote off my hypothesis until last week. That night, in the middle of the night, I started tossing and turning. I woke up and could tell that Angela was stirring as well. One of us said to the other, "are you awake?" and the other said "yes," and we realized that we both couldn't sleep or were woken up by the same thing or were both just feeling restless. But then, at the other end of her room, Trilly was sitting in the fucking desk chair.
I think it was Angela who pointed it out. We saw a shadow, thinking it was a person, freaked out, and then relaxed briefly when we saw it was just the doll. But then we got freaked out all over again and were like, "why the FUCK is this FUCKING doll in your room!?!?", murderously standing up and going over to it to pick it up and throw it in James' room and pound the living Christ out of him.
We turn on all the lights, turn on the hall light, stomp down the hall into his room and turn on his lights, and see he's not in his bed. We then go downstairs (my aunt and uncle's room was on the main floor), Trilly still in Angela's hands, and hear my aunt and James in the washroom. Turns out James had been sick for the last few hours and my aunt had been up all night with him as he was throwing up in the washroom. And when we saw the scene we immediately could tell that James had nothing to do with Trilly. Like, it was just one of those really believable situations where we could tell James truly had no idea what was going on. We even felt bad for him. And, to top it off, when we told him the story in the morning it scared him so much that he didn't go into the basement for like a year. Anyway, it just seemed really sincere.
So Angela and I went back up to her room and we were like, "are we *sure* we didn't bring this up here last night? Are we sure? We must have." Anyway, while we were really freaked, we figured that it was explainable. We knew the doll obviously didn't walk itself upstairs like it was some horror movie. But, because we were fourteen and all for the drama (and I remember us having the "better safe than sorry" mindset) we called her dog upstairs (Bella, a poorly behaved black poodle). We started playing tug-of-war with Bella, using Trilly as the toy, and eventually Bella ripped her to shreds.
Anyway, funny memory, making the dog rip up the doll, we laughed and thought we were tough and cool, then we went back to bed.
The next morning, instead of all of us going skiing, it was just Me, Angela, and my Uncle, because James stayed home with my aunt on account of his stomach flu. But when we woke up, Angela was acting weird. Nothing too noteable, just really bizarrely quiet as she moved around her room to get her clothes out of her drawers and get changed. She didn't, like, acknowledge me in her room. I said something like "morning" when she didn't acknowledge me, and she looked at me and then turned back to her drawers and kept getting changed.
And she was looking around weirdly, I remember that too. Almost like she'd misplaced something, but a little more dazed than that. Just moving strangely. Then she went downstairs without saying anything to me at all. I thought maybe she was just super groggy... but it still felt really weird.
When I went downstairs, she was standing at the island in the kitchen buttering toast that my uncle had put in for us. I distinctly remember walking up beside her and the toaster, pulling a piece of toast out of it, putting it on the plate that had been set out for me, and when I dipped the knife into the container of butter, Angela smacked my hand away, hard, and looked at me and snapped, "what are you doing? Don't take things that aren't yours". I was shocked. It honestly felt like being struck in the face. She'd never spoken to me like that before, and even though we were like siblings, I still felt that kind of mortifying embarrassment you feel when someone calls you out on misbehaving, even though I wasn't doing anything wrong; but it *was* her family's butter and bread? I don't know. That's what I remember thinking. But it was awkward and weird and I just said, "um, what?" and then she didn't say anything, just kept buttering her toast, and I mumbled some apology.
The three of us then drove to the ski hill and, I kid you not, Angela and I didn't speak the whole way there. I had no idea what was up, but I didn't want to ask with her dad in the car.
Then when we got to the ski hill, we went skiing just the two of us and on the chairlift during the first run I mustered up the courage to say "Hey, did I do something wrong? I feel like you're really mad at me or something". And she turned to look at me and was confused. Not friendly, not warm, not reassuring, but confused. It was almost as if I was a stranger and she looked at me as if to say, "sorry, who are you? why are you talking to me?"
And she responded in a formal way: "Sorry, I have no idea what you're talking about". The distance in her voice was really eerie, and I started to think maybe this had to do with the doll incident the night before and either she was trying to extend the prank, and she was the one who had put the doll on the chair, OR she felt guilty that we ruined this family doll and she resented me for being a part of it. Anyway, when we got to the top of the hill, she skied down quickly and didn't wait for me to go back up again, and we ended up skiing separately.
I felt awkward and embarrassed like I'd done something wrong. I ended up skiing with my uncle who asked me what was up with us, and I just said I didn't know. Then after our day of skiing, he dropped me off at my family's cottage and continued on home with Angela.
For the rest of that whole school year (we were in ninth grade), Angela and I didn't really speak. It was really sad. We were like sisters before, but better because we weren't actually sisters, but cousins, and so we were like best friends that were related. Seriously, we were really close. And it really messed me up, I felt like she just ghosted me. I would text her and call her house but she was always "fine" or "with Jessica" (her best friend). I chalked it up to her just outgrowing me, and it really fucking sucked. But, to be honest, it was so jarring and such a stark shift that I was more confused than hurt. I talked to my mom about it and she explained to me how rough it can be to be a teenage girl.
But that following summer, we were up at our cottages again, and our family had a barbecue and invited over my aunt and uncle and Angela and James. I had seen Angela at family things a couple of times since and she would just kind of ignore me and spend the whole time texting, which is what I expected this time.
Sure enough, that's what happened for the first bit of the barbecue. But then when the food was ready, she came up beside me as we were dressing our hamburgers at the condiment table and said, "oh my god, remember that night we got Bella to ruin Trilly?" and I was so shocked by her friendly tone, by her acting as though she were picking up a conversation we just were having, that I just stared at her and said, "yeah, that was crazy". And she said, "yeah, so funny. Anyway, how've you been?" again, really different and formal. I almost couldn't get past how altered her tone was, like we'd never even met. In fact she seemed so sprightly and kind that I thought she was mocking me.
And our relationship since that barbecue carried on just like that. She started talking to me more, but I'd reference inside jokes or ways we used to be or things we used to do and she never really latched on to any of them. I was caught between thinking she'd outgrown me and thinking she was like embarrassed of our closeness before or something and was trying to move on. I talked to my mom about this, and again got the speech about how teenage girls can be really cruel/strange sometimes.
So until we were about 22, we were like that. Nice to each other, talking sometimes, not that close, and I learned to not try and act like we were all close or that we had been close. I talked to my friends about it too and they said it was normal for friendships to change like that. But something felt off about this. I started to honestly feel crazy for hanging on to this "before" memory of Angela so much.
Then when we were 22, we grew apart. This time, it was mutual and natural. I moved cities, and she got engaged and became a real estate agent and we just had nothing to talk about. It was gradual and I didn't notice it much. Which brings us to eight years later, just last week.
I was travelling in Iceland. I had to be there (very randomly) for a conference/workshop I was leading for work, and turned it into a vacation. Rented a car, decided I was going to drive across the island after the conference was over and stay on the east part and explore a bit.
Day four of my seven-day long road trip. It's mid-afternoon, I'm hungry. I've been driving for three hours and have come across no sign of civilization at all, and it was fifty miles to the next town. But then, voila! A little gas station/general store/cafe! Perfect!
Ah, fuck. I literally can't believe I'm writing this. It makes me sound fucking crazy. But here I go.
I park in the little three-car parking lot. I get out of my car, step onto the gravel, the sky is white, expansive, there are mountains everywhere around me, fields, sheep. The air is fresh. Seriously middle of nowhere. I walk up the wooden rickety steps and push open the door and hear the door chimes go. A man walks out from the back room and greets me, and the place is cute. There's a little handwritten menu above the cash register and I asked him in my pathetic Icelandic/English mix if I could have the gravlax toast. He's very friendly and kind and says yes, asks if I want a coffee, I say yes please, blah blah, he rings me up at the cash register, and I go and sit at the one table they have and wait for my food.
I look around - it's mostly a fishing supplies store with some general groceries. The man opens the door to the room from which he came, the kitchen I suppose, and says the order to the lady in the back who looks like she's doing some prep cooking. Immediately I stop. It's freaking Angela!!!! Or I thought it was.
Now, remember, I hadn't seen Angela in about eight years. Since her dad passed away when we were twenty-three, and because I'd moved cities, we just had no reason to really see each other especially after growing so far apart.
So, like, OH MY GOD, it's Angela! She's working at a random little general store in middle-of-nowhere Iceland! But wait, I thought. No. This is obviously not-fucking-Angela. Angela is a real estate agent in my hometown. I'd obviously know if she lived in Iceland lol. Right? I don't really use social media but the odd time I do, she'll pop up here and there. But I guess not enough for me to *confirm* she still lived in my hometown.
But anyway, she looked enough like Angela that I went right up to the cash register and rang the little bell and the guy came back out and when he opened the door I was able to get another look at her, and my heart skidded. A chill spread across my crown. It was one hundred percent Angela. Like, my full-on cousin. So, looking over the guys' shoulder, RIGHT AT ANGELA, I smile and say, "Angela!! Oh my god!!" and before she could respond, the door shut again.
And the guy at the cash smiled really big, a nice, friendly, smile and he looked surprised as well, and pointed back over his shoulder and then at me, as if to say, "you two know each other?!" which confirmed for me that her name was Angela, because he seemed really delighted at the coincidence. Expecting her to emerge from the kitchen, I walked around to behind the cash register (the invitation was implied by the guy) and he put his arm back to open the door for me, or for Angela, whom we both expected to be making her way over to me, too.
When he opened the door, she was head-down again, chopping vegetables. I walked through the door and said, "Angela? Angela!" smiling, thinking she hadn't seen me yet or realized who I was, all context considered. She looked up at me, and then quickly, as though avoiding my eyes, looked down. "Hey", she said, quietly, at the cutting board.
WHAT THE FUCK WAS GOING ON? Before I could ask anything, she said, "I'm really sorry, okay?"
What?
She repeated herself and then continued: "I'm really sorry okay? But we can't talk".
I actually, like, had no clue what was happening. I was looking into the eyes of my cousin whom I hadn't seen in forever in some random fucking shack in Iceland and she was acting skittish and afraid. I opened my mouth to protest and she said, "I need you to leave," then she called the guy's name and said something to him in Icelandic. She can speak Icelandic??!
The guy came in, his demeanour totally different. Almost like he was a bouncer. He gestured to my coffee and toast that were ready to go, took them in his hands and ushered me out of the kitchen and I could tell I no longer was welcome. Either I wasn't welcome or I was in danger, or both. It felt more like the former. And I don't think the guy had any idea what was going on, either. I think she must have said something to him like "I don't know this person, this person is crazy" or something. That's how he was acting toward me.
I got in my car, I drove five minutes down the road, and pulled over. I miraculously had service and I called my mom and told her everything. She kind of just laughed at me and was like "Many-Patient2894, that obviously wasn't Angela". And joked about me making some poor Icelandic woman feel extremely weird. But based off the guy's reaction when I said her name, her name was Angela, and the way she spoke to me and said sorry and said we couldn't talk, like, she knew me too. I told my mom all of this and I sounded fucking crazy and she just was basically like, "Haha, yeah, weird". I think she thinks I was making up the part about the apology.
I told all of my friends this, when I was still in Iceland, and they all reacted like my mom did. At this point, I had four days left in the country, and I kept wanting to return to the cafe/general store. But I didn't. I started to think maybe the woman thought I was someone else. But then I kept coming back to, but wait, this person was Angela. Her name, her body, her face, like I just didn't know what to do.
This brings me to two days ago, the day before yesterday, when I returned to Canada, where I live. It's eight o'clock in the morning and I'm on my way to work. In my car. Just picked up a coffee. Exhausted. Not thinking about Angela at all. Thinking about my laundry, my bills, what I'm going to make for dinner. The traffic is bad and it's a miserable day outside.
My phone dings. It's a random number. The text reads: "Hey! It's Angela! How was your trip?"
Haven't heard from her in eight years (except for our run-in in Iceland, if indeed it was one). No "how have you been??", no "I miss you!!" no "long time no talk/see!". I also hadn't posted anything about my trip on social media. Unless you were a friend of mine, you didn't know I was there.
I immediately call my mom, who follows Angela on Instagram, and ask her to look at her profile. Sure enough, Angela (not at all to my mother's surprise), is posting stories of the bachelorette party she's at in Miami. She's, like, not at all in Iceland.
I have no idea what's going on. And the way Angela/the woman spoke to me in the cafe had the cadence and softness that Angela had, and in my memory, lost, starting the morning of the skiing after the incident with Trilly and the dog. For some reason I'm fully back there in my memory now, realizing that that was the first morning of "the new Angela", the one that seemed to have no emotional memory of me at all. Like, the Iceland Angela seemed more like the "before" Angela.
I haven't replied to the text. I have no idea if it was bachelorette party Miami Angela or Iceland Angela that sent me the message, the area code is from neither Angela's hometown or Iceland.
I need advice, I have no idea what to do or who to talk to. Do I reply to the text? What do I say? I feel like the real Angela is fucking trapped in Iceland or something and has been for a long time. Or I don't even know. I have no idea what to do.

So I have been making my way through some Chaggie fanfics on AO3 and thought that I'd share some of my favorites so far:

1. Finding Flock. Credit: Niiwasong. This fic is a retelling of the events leading up to S1 + S1 with extra scenes + post-S1 content from Vaggie's point of view. The writing is excellent and strikes a good balance between angst and fluff, as well as length vs. detail. This is probably the fic that you should read if you are looking for some sickeningly sweet Chaggie fluff and have an hour or so to spare.
   
2. If I Fall Now, Will You Catch Me? Credit: LatteLesbian. This is a wing preening fic. Enough said.
   
3. The Holy or The Broken Hallelujah. Credit: CoveredInWrackspurts. This is the longest Chaggie-focused fic. Heavily diverges from the canon with Charlie knowing that Vaggie is a former exorcist from the get-go. Fair warning: this fic starts out fluffy but turns extremely angsty after the first act. You should definitely check out all of the tags before deciding whether this fic is for you.
   
4. offer me that deathless death (good god, let me give you my life). Credit: Rennajade. This is another canon-divergent fic where Chaggie figures out Vaggie's identity way sooner, although with considerably less angst.
   
5. Purpose Beyond the Hellfire. Credit: GryphonZed. This is a canon-compliant fic detailing the events leading up to Charlie and Vaggie opening up the Happy Hotel together.
   
6. I'm still me (why are we here). Credit: Dragondrison. Vaggie gets flung back into the past and meets Charlie under different circumstances. Angst ensues.
   

Since there's another angel that Charlie frequently gets shipped with, might as well throw these into the mix:

1. Charlie's Angels. Credit: Kkat (Kkat_FoE). This is the Charlie × Vaggie × Emily fic. You should read it, like right now.
   
2. It Hurt When She Fell From Heaven. Credit: Dignity_Pending. This is the other (likewise excellent!) Charlie × Vaggie × Emily fic. This time they go on a road trip through the Rings of Hell. Turns smutty in later chapters.
   
3. Bratty Bottom Lute. Credit: Texan_Red_Rose. This is the cursed version of the Charlie's Angels ship. Instead of Emily, Charlie and Vaggie have to deal with Lute. Fair warning: this is a smut fic with some plot. Okay, it's mostly plot but the smut is very explicit. Don't let it distract from you from the excellent characterization and worldbuilding, though.
   

Since we've mentioned both Emily and Lute, this list wouldn't be complete without these three fics:

1. Good Intentions. Credit: epheoko. This is an illustrated!!! post-S1 Emilute fic. It's rather new but the first two chapters go HARD.
   
2. Envy Not the Violent. Credit: Kayla_Burke. This is another fantastic Emilute fic. This time Lute gets flung back in time to the start of S1 and learns a couple of hard lessons along the way.
   
3. Precious Like Starlight. Credit: LavenderBunbun. This is a Charlie × Lute fic that explores what would have happened if Lute had fallen instead of Vaggie. Yes, really. But trust me, you will be sold on this ship by the end of chapter 2.
   

This list is, of course, not comprehensive in the slightest, so feel free to add your own recommendations!

Link for all the chapters available here: Engines of Arachnea on Royal Road
He was back at Smiley’s taproom with a petite brunette dangling from his arm, the young signal operator whose acquaintance he’d made while assigned as a liaison officer with the Exploratory Corps. There he was, all big and stiff in his brand-new dress uniform, trying desperately to impress someone who was astronomically more attractive than him and making a priceless ass of himself.
“So,” she purred, eyeing him over the rim of her glass, “Tell me again about the surface. What’s it like wandering up there above all us wee mortals?”
“Erm,” Rene cleared his throat, feeling a hot flush creeping up his reddening neck, “It’s, uh, quite remarkable really. Simply fantastic.”
Having run out of things to say, Rene took a snootful of his drink in an attempt to sharpen his wits. It was so hard to focus with her hanging onto his every word like this.
“Ooh, you make it sound so exciting,” Deborah had tittered. Or was it Devorah? Her name had gotten lost in the fumes of fermented honeydew clouding up his brain. Perhaps another sip would jog his memory. Rene downed the horrid swill and coughed as it burned its way down his throat and up his nostrils.
“Would you look at the state of him!” someone guffawed, slapping Rene on the back, “Cool as cucumbers under fire when there’s a hundred dirty Amits breathing down our necks, but prop him up next to a lass and he goes completely to pieces.”
“Ah, piss off,” Rene said fondly. He turned to see Lethway sitting next to him flanked by two buxom blondes, an Amit axe buried deep in his neck.
“I’m only saying. You’ve got to keep your head on your shoulders, man,” Lethway said, as his own tumbled off sideways and hung on by a flap of gristle, “We’ve got a long night ahead of us with our fine lady friends here. It wouldn’t do for you to be sleeping on the job.’
“Why, Lethie my dearest. I’m sure Mr. Louvoture has the…stamina…to keep up,” the brunette said demurely, batting her eyelids at Rene, “Go on. You were telling me about how amazing it is up there.”
“Yes,” Rene puffed out his cheeks and marshalled his scattered thoughts, “It’s like this, see…how can I put it? Words can hardy do it justice.”
“Try me,” Deborah/Devorah said, tugging at his arm with her warm hands. The girl was practically throwing herself at him no matter how badly he was fumbling the ball. Rene my lad, if you don’t make it tonight you’re going to regret it for the rest of your life, Rene thought to himself.
“Alrighty then,” Rene said, deciding to risk everything by gaze deep into her eyes, which if the romance novels were to be believed, were windows into a woman’s soul. She had very pretty irises, all velvety and shining with something bordering on hero-worship.
“When you’re topside and the suns go down beyond the hills, and the clouds weep tears of crimson as the sky rolls over into a bowl of stars holding all the universe above you, it feels like…like…” Rene trailed off.
“What?” she whispered into the hush that had settled over the bar.
“Well, it feels a little like this,” Rene said softly, leaning in for a kiss. Her lips tasted his, the tip of her tongue quivering with longing. She drew him into her embrace, gripping him around the waist and pressing into him.
Awfully forward, these girls from Mound Sierra, Rene thought with some alarm. Not that he was complaining. They spent an eternity entwined like this, the whole taproom cheering and egging them on.
“Woof!” Rene broke away to catch his breath, “Is it me, or is it getting hard to breathe in here?”
“Shut up and kiss me again,” Devorah/Deborah said impatiently, wrapping a leg around his and holding him tight. Rene put a hand on her thigh and found that she was surprisingly hairy for a girl. Feeling a little repulsed at this he tried to peel himself away, but found that he couldn’t move any of his limbs.
“Mmph. Hmmgh!” he mumbled, his voice muffled by her insistent mouth. He cocked an eyebrow over her shoulder at Lethway, who’d just propped his head back up onto its stump.
“Cheers, big fellow!” Lethway tipped a glass in his direction and downed his glass in one gulp, the drink trickling out of him through a large bullet hole in his chest.
“I hate it when that happens,” Lethway said, staring sadly at it. He looked back up at Rene and said: “Oy! What did I tell you about falling asleep on the job. Isn’t it about time you got moving, trooper?”
“Not yet,” Devorah/Deborah sighed, kissing his neck, “First he has to tell me how much he likes my eyes. You do like my eyes, don’t you?”
“Why, of course darling—” Rene began. But then she pulled back to look him in face, and the words curdled and died on his lips.
Gone was the petite brunette in her oh-so-short skirt, replaced by a furry, many-eyed freak with quivering mouthparts. In an instant Smiley’s taproom was torn away to reveal the awful truth of his current circumstances: he was hanging upside down from a tree and caught in monster’s deadly embrace. He was trussed up by his legs which had gone completely numb, and his wrists were bound together by loops of silk that felt as strong as steel chains. Yelling incoherently, Rene started wriggling like a worm on a hook. The creature tightened its hold and pressed its fangs against his throat, delicately avoiding piercing the skin while looking at him through its row of eyes.
It was a warning. Rene wisely heeded it and stopped struggling. After a long moment the monster let him go, although they both continued to dangle upside down. Rene stared at its face in horrid fascination. He saw now that it had four eyes on its flat, squarish face, the centermost pair dwarfing the two ancillary ones on either side of them. In the place of a lower jaw it had four vertical mouthparts, the shorter ones in the middle tipped with curved fangs while the rest functioned like antennae, moving constantly with little taps and clicks, its grotesque head nodding along with them.
Rene thought the motion was reminiscent of a person’s lips as they mumbled, and he had a disturbing suspicion that the monster was trying to talk to him. The fact that he was still alive also lent credence to this theory. After all, if Amits were intelligent lifeforms, why couldn’t this one be as well? Hoping against hope, he stammered out:
“I—I don’t understand. I’m afraid I can’t speak your language. Haven’t got the equipment for it. See?”
Rene bared his teeth at it in a forced smile, tying show it what he meant. But the monster recoiled from him, pushing off the trunk behind him and leaping back some twenty meters away from him. It alighted on a tangle of creeper vines and hung there in all its awful majesty, eyeing Rene through its four unblinking orbs. It had ten appendages including its stubby antennae, each of them ending in a three-clawed hand. Its shoulder and thigh muscles were enormous, though its potbellied torso was as round as a wagon wheel, sporting a disgusting hump of flesh on its back. No doubt it contained even more musculature to support its powerful limbs, which at the moment were bunched up and ready to spring.
He had startled it, Rene realized. His own mouth was probably just as alien and repulsive to its sensibilities as its physiology was to him. Before he could derive some small satisfaction from that, more of the monsters emerged to join the first, darting out of the shadows with an unnatural, jittery motion. They moved in stops and starts, periods of immobility interrupted by burst of blinding speed, here one moment and gone the next.
“It shpeaksh…” Rene heard someone say in a voice somewhere between a dry croak and the gurgling of a water pipe. Rene looked around for the source of the voice and was shocked to find that it was issuing from the largest monster, the one reclining on the vines like some misshapen ape. He couldn’t believe his own ears. It was speaking Fleet cantish, mangling its way through the words somehow despite the total absence of a jawbone.
“Gallivant?” another queried with clearer pronunciation.
“No blade-wing, thish,” the leader clicked its palps thoughtfully, “Too shoft. Too schtupid. Came from the fire giant. Dropped a sheed pod, it did, like a tree in the wind. The sheed shpun a web and floated. Down, down, down.”
“Shoft like a grub,” agreed the smallest monster somewhat belatedly. A frothy substance with the consistency of saliva dripped from its fangs. It took a step towards Rene, stiffening all over. Before he could even blink it had launched itself through the air directly at him. In the same instant the leader also leapt, slamming bodily into its subordinate and throwing it to the ground.
“No,” the leader rasped, letting the other monster limp away having been suitably chastised, “Questions firshht. The fire giant. Are you itsh hatchling?”
It was staring at Rene when it said this. Rene thought quickly. It was a binary question and he felt that his life hung in the balance, the odds being even either way. Heads or tails? From what he’d heard it was clear that the only thing keeping him from lining the stomachs of these monsters was their abiding curiosity. They had witnessed the Divine Engine and his impromptu ejection from it, and they were under the impression that it had been a living thing and that he was its offspring. It followed that the best thing to do was to maintain their interest in him for as long as possible while he thought of an escape plan. Heads it was, then. Rene said:
“Yes. Yes, I am its ‘hatchling’.”
He glanced around until he found his sword where he had left it leaning against the buttress root, still in its sheathe next to the survival kit. If he could just reach down and grasp it in his hands…
“Good,” said the abomination, “And know you the secret of itsh power?”
“Of course,” Rene said, slowly and surreptitiously stretching out his arms, reaching for the sword hilt with all his might.
“Good, good,” the abomination crooned. There was a blur of motion and the leader materialized in front of him, their faces inches apart. It seized him by the hairs and yanked him close.
“Then I, too, will know its inner workingshh. Once I open your head and drink deep from your mind.”
Should have gone with tails, Rene thought as it lunged for him.
Link for all the chapters available here: Engines of Arachnea on Royal Road

This is probably going to be a little controversial, and this probably isn't the perfect sub for it, but I feel like it would be even less appropriate in main LGBTQIA subs, plus it's a situation that occurs in the raised-by-fundies community specifically a lot. Here goes.
I'm a bi ace woman. I understand that coming out is an extremely healthy and freeing experience for a lot of people, and that it can be extremely difficult to hide aspects of yourself from those closest to you. I also understand that high school is both the shittiest part of your life, and the time that you're struggling with understanding your overall identity the most, and that all your emotions are bigger and harder then. I lived it.
But for the love of God Almighty, if you are under 18 and you aren't 100% certain that your parents are going to be safe and accepting don't fucking come out to them. If you're 15 or whatever I know 3 years seems like wayyy too long to wait if it's hurting you to keep it in.
I understand things are hard, but don't be stupid. If your parents have legal authority over you and they are moderate or conservative Christian you have no business telling them anything about your sexual or gender orientation. If they're right leaning politically on basically any topic and they have legal authority over you, you have no business telling them anything about your sexual or gender orientation. Use your common sense. If you aren't sure how it's going to go, zip it.
Frankly I know this is extreme but for safety I would venture if your parents aren't literally openly queer they shouldn't know preferably til you're moved out but definitely until you're legally an adult.
I keep seeing posts across different subs, particularly recently one in the Episcopalian sub(hey kid, if you're here I'm not trying to put you on blast I'm just worried about you), where teens are like "I came out to my parents and it went badly :/." How are 90% of you not hyper aware that that's how it was going to go???? Do your parents not make any mocking or disparaging commentary about current events related to identity politics before you come out? Why was this not an expected and avoidable outcome?
For me it's most mind-boggling when they're literally 17. If you couldn't wait 8 months to tell them this when you have at least some minor ability to escape and get a job if they try to kill you, and they can't legally send you to a camp, then I don't know how you're going to function in other areas of adulthood that require common sense.
I'm sorry to be harsh but I keep seeing it and I know teens are smart enough to know better than to put themselves in extremely unsafe home situations for no practical reason.
I know it's a little harder for trans kids because you can get on HRT if your parent approves, but you need to be able to gage when there's no chance in hell that they will approve of that, and a high chance that they will make your life hell until you move out or worse. Especially if you have less than a year left to wait until you don't need their permission and they have no right to your medical info. If you're 15-17 Im fairly certain you are past the point where puberty blockers would have taken effect, at that point there's no point in gambling rushing it if it isn't a sure thing, even taking into account the mental health benefits if you succeed.
I feel for you, I do, but I also promise that high school won't last forever and 1-4 years of waiting to be free and safe will be gone soon enough if you lean on your friends, keep your head up, and your mouth shut.
TLDR: if youre a queer teen and you arent 150% certain your parents will react completely positively to you coming out you need to wait until you're a queer adult to tell them, for safety reasons. I love you stay strong.
ETA: i also know your parent deadnaming you can be incredibly painful, but if there's not a very very very good chance that you telling them will actually result in your chosen name being used instead, I still don't think it's worth the risk over waiting a couple years til it's safe and you have legal autonomy.

(This is my first time posting something on Reddit btw, so yeah)
I just wanted to share a weird dream experience I had that I've never had before.
I remember standing on a little grassy area next to a tunnel that ran under a big bridge. A big metal character that looked like a character from the Halo game came stomping out from the tunnel and walked towards me. It had a black metal suit and orange glowing eyes. I then realized it was holding a bazooka over it's right shoulder. All of a sudden a person appears next to me and reached out, trying to stop this metal character from shooting it. This person is a blurred shadow to me, don't know what they look like. Time goes by slowly as this persons' hands collided with the bazooka and pushed it up.
All of a sudden I remember the dream scene changed. And I was hearing a sudden ticking sound getting quicker and quicker. The person and the metal character were gone, and I was just looking at the tunnel the metal character came out of. I remember I covered my ears more and more tight with each second as the ticking became quicker and quicker and louder and louder. I felt the feeling of just waiting for what was about to happen while I was sat down and I contorted my body in a way where I was covering my face with my knee even though it wouldn't do anything. Then instead of hearing the boom come after the ticking, and instead of waking up JUST as I was dying like I normally did- I didn't actually hear a boom or an explosion, and I wasn't awake. I was actually experiencing the rest of what I normally don't. I remember it all became silent as I had my eyes closed and I layed in a pitch black abyss, I could see my body and the abyss as if my eyes were open but I knew my eyes were closed. I felt myself laying on my side in a bed I knew wasn't there. My whole body immediately started tingling and shaking, like that feeling you get when your whole body shakes from a very exciting experience you are getting excited for, while it gives that hefty insides out feeling. And it felt like all the tingling was pushing into my skin and then giving a warm and cold sensation. And I could feel my chest becoming light as I was having more and more trouble breathing, I tried to take a deep breath but it was hard to do, all airy and light and my heart beat felt weak. I started to spin in place while laying in that moment. And then I stopped spinning and I opened my mouth to say, "Mom." My voice was hoarse, and it sounded like how it does when you lose it but still try to speak. I repeated, "Mom.. " and then I remember she appeared next to me and cut me off saying, "33." and then I remember telling her I loved her before I woke up crying.
It was a really freakily uncomfortable and scary dream lol

I'm sharing here because I feel the listener base to this podcast might have some good points for me. Y'all have been helpful before. TYIA.
Some context: My daughter (mtf16) has been out to the family for around 2 1/2 years now (I've known something was different about her since she was a toddler). My husband and son (18) don't accept her. I'm also in a very red town in a very red state that is very anti-trans (so bad that an online mob doxxed a trans girl nearby a few months ago and threatened her, her family, and her place of employment with bomb and death threats). This is on top of teachers deliberately misgendering and dead-naming because they don't have to respect trans students. She doesn't really get outright bullied, but snide slurs and comments are made randomly a few times a week. She dresses neutral, so as not to draw attention, she sticks with her small group of friends, and generally keeps her head down because being herself at school, home, anywhere, just gets met with hate and disgust.
She's in therapy, but there's only so much that can be done as long as she keeps being forced to hide herself. There are no rights or protections for her, and I see this weighing heavily on her. She has lost interest in most things she used to love, rarely smiles anymore, and just doesn't care about passing school or even brushing her teeth. She's on the max dose of meds for severe depression.
My husband's solution is to ignore it. Our "son" has a mental illness is all. God made us with penises and vaginas for a reason, and if we ignore it, maybe it will go away.
I've tried giving him the science behind being trans. I've tried to give him multiple resources-scientific, religious, anecdotal (this is an experience as a trans child stuff)- but he refuses to look at any of it and claims the Bible is all he needs. We've even been to couple's therapy.
To keep from going into more detail, I'll just say that I realized some months ago what I needed to do: I was going to have to leave the state with my child. She won't make it to adulthood if I don't.
Now to my son (18). He graduates from high school this week. He was diagnosed with Autism Spectrum Disorder around 10/11 years old. His major difficulty is disseminating information. If something requires multiple steps, he can't remember or take in all the steps at one time. He also has some other typical signs of ASD like anxiety, especially when he's doing something new or has a change in routine.
And he doesn't accept that his sibling is trans either. Just like his father, he repeats the religious talking points. We have a good relationship otherwise. But if I try to provide information on any subject he disagrees with, he just dismisses it with religious or political talking points that he's heard from others, mainly his dad and older half-brother. He's been dismissive and disrespectful of me as well. I didn't realize until recently that it is the same way my husband treats me. It's the passing down of the fucking patriarchy. My husband didn't have much of a hand in raising him through the hard stuff (discipline, for one; his dad never disciplined and wouldn't back me up, and instead would treat me as if my discipline of my child was a sibling rivalry). But apparently just seeing our relationship in motion convinced my son that's how things should be.
I feel like I failed my son. I've tried to tell him that his attitude and outlook will hurt his future relationships (they have already had an effect on some recent ladies he's dated). And I don't think he gets that his attitude about trans people will (and probably already has) put a rift between him and his sister. I know they love each other and despite his misgendering, they laugh together and still game together. But when my daughter decides she doesn't want to put up with the disrespect anymore, that will put an end to any reconciliation.
At this point, with his attitude, taking him with us isn't an option. My daughter needs to feel open and safe in order to flourish and reach her full potential. I want to see her love life again, and that can't include anyone in the household who invalidates her existence.
When I go, I know my husband will likely bad-mouth me. I know can't control what my son thinks and feels, and he will probably be hurt that he can't go with us and/or that I won't be close by. I apparently am not very good at persuasion and need some help with how to word that I'm leaving to save his sister's life. I want him to know that I love him and will talk with him anytime, but I feel like he should get a footing in the world without me for a while. At the same time, he'll be hearing the anti-trans, ultra-conservative crap from his dad and brother. I don't want to lose him. My heart has already been through hell.
What do I need to say to him to show him that if there is a God, God doesn't give two fiddly fucks about genitals and that just because he doesn't understand something, doesn't mean he can't be respectful and supportive. How do I tell him that I'm not "leaving him," I'm leaving to save my daughter's life? I want him to understand the gravity of the situation, and that dysphoria is not a "mental illness." It relays who a trans person really is. I'm at a loss because not only is my 20-year marriage ending from a man I realized I never really knew, but that I also have to leave my home, career, family, and even my dog. It's hurting me worse though that I have to leave my son behind. Yes , he's technically an adult, but he still needs help navigating his new post-high school world. We've never spent more than a few days apart since he was born.
I'm decent at writing, but suck at verbal articulation. Help me please.
TLDR: Sorry, can't make this shorter without all the info and context. Scroll on if you're a bigot or not interested. Thanks. ✌️

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

Spring is winding down, summer's on it's way; would love to get a little cash to fund the summer fun (and the next parts order). Still, trades are always on the table. Don't be shy with the cheapies.
TLDR
I got:

• A bunch of unique handmade stuff, including fuzzes, drives, and filters.
• Some 9V/12V practice amps I made from old speakers.
• A handful of cheapies
• A digitech Multi-FX
• Some bulky items for local trade in the Nashville, TN area.

I want:

• Just about anything related to musical instruments and music making: Effects, instruments, gizmos, recording stuff, etc.
• Or lots of other things not remotely related to music. Try me.
• Or money
• I mean, basically, if you want a pedal, especially a handmade one, and are willing to send me something of reasonable value for it, you have a good shot at getting it.

DIY STUFF
(If you are NOT into handmade stuff, scroll down because I have some other items at the end.)
This is hand-built stuff that I made, mostly relatively unique or heavily tweaked designs built on vero or point to point. Many are housed in upcycled tins, a few in Hammond boxes. They all run on standard 9v pedal power. These aren't clones for the most part, unless they are; but normally I actually monkey about with the circuits quite a bit or just test out wacky ideas. If you want something nobody else has, you're in the right place…
I have the handmades valued in 4 tiers:

• D tier are my trashy cheapies, made from reclaimed components. I don't feel right asking a lot for reclaimed components. I value them in the $40 - $50 range, not really picky about what I trade for. I might even take dirt pedals for these. Only got one left, trying to phase out this tier.
• C tier are the cheapies made with new components. I value these in the $50 - $60 range, not very picky here either.
• B tier are my average builds, I will trade for pedals in the $65-$90 value range, depending on the complexity of the build. A little pickier, but still pretty open.
• A tier are my happy happy builds, usually more complex or just nicer quality. I will be picky about trades for these. (But still not Boutique prices; I have no delusions). It's probably less about value here and more about how much I actually want the thing you have. Think in the $90 - $130 range.

MOBILE USERS: There are 4 columns in the tables below: Name, Tier, Links, and Notes. If you don't see all 4, scroll over or ask for more info.
Fuzzes

Name	Tier	Links	Notes
Bazz Me Fuss You #1	A	PIC DEMO	A bazz-fussified perversion of the Escobedo push-me-pull-you, featuring controls for octave and volume. This is the first unit I've built using my own custom PCB. Housed in a painted 125B with top jacks.
Space Fuzz	B+	PIC DEMO	This is a Hollis crash sync fuzz that I souped up with an LFO to modulate the filtesync frequency. Really wild flangery/phasey type gated fuzz sound. At the right settings you can get some octave-down effects as well. Housed in a ~3.5 inch square game tin reinforced with recycled plastic. Pretty pleased with this build.
SwirlFuzz	B+	PIC DEMO	Modulated octave fuzz prototype. It's an octave fuzz, but you can switch on an LFO to modulate the octave amount. Controls for Rate, Depth, Gain, and Volume, plus switches for waveshape and mode (Normal/Octave/Modulated). In a circular tin reinforced with recycled plastic.
Baller Fuzz	B	PIC DEMO	Another Bazz-Me-Fuss-You build with an added BMP-style tone control. In a slightly beaten-up heart-shaped basketball tin. Y'all ready for this?
Big Green Fuzz for Attractive Bass Players	B	PIC Demo	Like my bazz-me-fuss-you circuit, but with a big muff tone stack, a clean blend, and optional clippers for more compression. Housed in a big round tin reinforced with recycled plastic and designed specifically for attractive bass players. Unattractive ones may not really gel with this.
Creature from the planet Chyowngg	B	PIC Demo	Prototype of a unique fuzz I've been developing that I call the Chyowngg fuzz. It's a 2-stage octaver that gives a bright synthy tone with a distinctive envelope (hence the name). You can toggle each stage from octave to non-octave mode for a variety of interesting timbres. Also has a tone control, but the tone control is before the octave stages so it results in interesting behaviors depending on the switch settings. It's in a tin meant to be painted like an alien, though some say it looks more like a triceratops.
Dumbo's Bazzrite Fussrite	C	PIC Demo	A bazz-fussified mosrite fuzzrite circuit I cobbled together in point-to-point wiring style. Housed in a little Dumbo puzzle tin with GLITTER! Controls are for balance (kind of tone-cum-gain) and volume.
Wiff Spwinkles on Top	C	PIC Demo	This point-to-point fuzz lives in the same neighborhood as the Harmonic Percolator, but has a few differences. I altered the way the gain knob works, and added a switch to toggle bass cut. It's housed in an ice-creamity welly tin.

Drives, Distortions, and Boosts

Name	Tier	Links	Notes
Bronze Drive	A	PIC Demo	This is a point-to-point, transistor based overdrive I designed based loosely on the Davisson Easy Drive. Good for low-gain crunchy tones and plenty of output volume on tap if you want it for a boost. Tone circuit is like a BMP stack but with a mid hump instead of a mid cut. Housed in a painted 125B.
Copper ZenerMorph Drive	B	PIC Demo	This is an experiment in zener diode clipping. Nice crispy drive that gets beefier as you turn up the gain, lots of good edge-of-breakup tones to be had. Housed in a decorated tin reinforced with some recycled plastic.
Shining Hope Drive	B	PIC Demo	Differential mirroring drive, gives a kind of overdriven-mixer-channel distortion. Controls for gain, tone, and volume. Housed in a star-shaped Christmas tin.
B is for Beast	C	PIC DEMO	This fun little drive/boost consists of two cascading MOSFET gain stages with optional clipping in between. It goes from clean and loud to massive wall-of-gain distortion nicely. Controls for gain, clipping, and volume. In a small heart-shaped tin about 4in by 4in.
Green Sparkler Boost	D	PIC	Just an Escobedo Duende JFET boost built point-to-point in a sparkly little round tin. Gives a little gain and a bit of warmth to the tone.

Non-Dirt

Name	Tier	Links	Notes
Quack like a penguin	B+	PIC DEMO	Third build of the Chykka Wakka, a WIP all-transistor envelope filter. This one is built on vero, and features controls for Q, Range, and Attack, as well as toggles for Voicing and envelope smoothing. Housed in a smallish penguin tin reinforced with recycled plastic.
Gift of Chykka Wakka	B	PIC DEMO	First build of an all-transistor envelope filter I designed. Built point-to-point style and housed in a little giftbox tin reinforced with recycled plastic. Controls for Q and Sweep, switch toggles envelope smoothing.
Vortex of Funk	B	PIC DEMO	Second build of the Chykka-Wakka circuit, this one features attack, Q, and range controls. Built point-to-point and housed in a painted tin.
BZZZ BOOP BEEP	B	PIC DEMO	A basic square wave oscillator on a momentary switch. Can go from bzzz to boop to beep with a sweep of the big knob. Also has tone and volume controls, and a 3-way switch for different decay amounts. Use it to simulate a spring door stopper or dying cow. Or bleep your foul-mouthed frontman. Or mess with the sound guy. Or send Morse code to the bar. I dunno. Housed in a painted tin reinforced with recycled plastic.

Little Amps

Name	Price/Trades	Links	Description
Ample iMank	$65	PICS DEMO	This is a Runoffgroove Ruby Amplifier built into this old multimedia speaker enclosure designed to look like an old iMac. Glows blue when you turn it on. It runs from a standard 9v pedal power. It's not terribly loud, nor terribly clean, but if you dig the classic mac vibe it might be fun. Controls for gain and volume, and a power switch on the back.
Nosy Amp	$75	PICS DEMO	Another solid-state amp based on the Ruby amplifier, housed in a repurposed bookshelf speaker. This one actually has pretty decent volume, even on 9V (can run on 12V as well for more), and can stay clean while getting loud enough for a quiet jam with friends.
Fleur-de-Lis Amp	$90	PICS DEMO	A tiny bookshelf speaker turned into a practice amp. This one features a class D power amp for lovely cleans, and a custom designed discrete preamp that gets punchy & crunchy when cranked. Runs on 9V but pretty loud nonetheless.

Non-DIY Stuff
Make an offer. I respect Reverb Price Guide values, though I may lean high if it's a feeler.

Brand	Name	Condition	Notes
Danelectro	Fab Chorus	Excellent	Cheap plastic chorus, but sounds great. Probably just a make-weight, too cheap to trade on its own.
Caline	10-band EQ	Good	Works fine, I just don't really need 10 bands of EQ. Has velcro on the back, and sometimes makes a weird noise when you turn on the pedalboard. Another make-weight.
Ibanez	PH7	Good	Tonelok phaser. Great pedal, has some glue on the bottom I couldn't get off, but works fine.
BOSS	TU-12H	Good	Crusty vintage tuner from Boss. Still works great, but it's missing the outer case (still has the inner part). If you had one in the day and want to relive the magic, feel free to make an offer.
Digitech	RP360	Very Good	Great multifx, I've gotten some fun sounds out of it, but it isn't seeing much use. I'm just more of a discrete FX guy I guess.
MOTU	MIDI express	Good	This is an antique MIDI patchbay and interface. It's pre-USB and uses the parallel cable (PC) or some kind of Apple-specific DIN cable (Mac). Could be used standalone, or maybe you're into retro MIDI setups? Comes with box and cables anyway.
unknown builder	PedalPCB Cataclysm	Very Good	This is a really solid build of a PedalPCB cataclysm (Disaster Transport Jr clone) built by someone other than me. Pics here. Not sure what to value it, but make an offer.

Local (Nashville TN area) ONLY

Brand	Name	Condition	Notes
TEAC	A3340S 4-Track Reel-to-Reel	Good	Cleaned up, oiled up, and in good working order last time I tried it out. Meant to do some analog recording, but just haven't gotten the time or space. Would trade for a decent instrument of some kind. Might even throw in a copy of Craig Anderton's "Home Recording for Musicians", which uses the same unit.
Altec-Lansing	Power amp (9442A)	Fair	300 W, 2 rack-unit power amp, can work in stereo or bridged mode. Last time I used it one of the channels was a little flaky. Couldn't be bothered to fix it myself. Heavy as all get out, I'll sell for cheap if you're local.

What would I trade for??
I'm wide open to trades for music gear of all kinds and other items of value.
Some Priority Wants:

• A next level looper like the Pigtronix Infinity 3. Feeling limited by my current setup. Something with MIDI sync, multiple loop tracks, tempo sync.
• Boss OC-5.
• A reverb with a really good plate algorithm.
• Compact 12 channel mixer. Preferably a Mackie VLZ or similar.
• Isolated pedal power supply.
• Genuine e-Bow. Already own 2 clones, looking to try the real shebang.
• A multiple-MIDI I/O unit.
• A 1-U rack-mount mixer.
• Money.

Other things I'd likely trade for:

• Pedals, naturally:
  • Especially fancy DSP type pedals (the kind I can't build), or a nice analog flangechorus.
  • Decent analog pedals that need repair. Expect a lot of questions and not much value, though.
  • Check "probably not wants" below
• Studio gear like mics, headphones, cables, small mixers, rack gear, etc.
• Synths and midi gear, especially cheap stuff like Volcas or Reface, etc. Really need a MIDI interface with multiple I/O.
  • I kinda dig old casio/yamaha cheapies.
  • Drum machines are interesting to me.
• Musical instruments? I play about everything, or would like to try anyway.
  • I'd like to acquire a tele style guitar at some point. Even just a cheapie knockoff.
  • If you've got a not-too-expensive Ibanez fretless bass (or similar), let's talk. I'll offer things on the secret menu.
• Also Non-music things:
  • Unbuilt pedal kits, pedal enclosures, bulk lots of electronics parts, etc.
  • Electronics/DIY tools or supplies (scope, transistor tester, solder, etc)
  • Something weird and creative. Random items of modest value you want to get rid of. Handmade items that are giftable.
  • Did I mention money? I do paypal and venmo.

Probably not wants (doesn't apply to C or D-tier builds, offer anything for those):

• Dirt pedals. Might make an exception for something really intriguing, though.
• Eurorack modules, unless anyone wants to trade me a whole starter setup (yeah, probably not, right?)
• Guitaamp/cab parts. Not really into modding that stuff. Yet.
• Behringer pedals. Just not a fan.
• Any pedal whose value is primarily as a collectible (Vintage, Rare editions/colorways/signature models, etc)
• If I can get it on Amazon or Reverb for under $50, I'd rather we bundled a few things to make it worth the shipping cost.

A Note about mods/repairs/custom jobs: Feel free to shoot me your ideas, but probably I'm leaning toward not doing these. Expect to pay/trade way more for something custom than what I ask for the pedals I've already built.

I wrote mini reviews of each arc here, but because there are so damn many arcs, this ended up being a wall of text, despite me trying to keep them short. Feel free to skim or read only what interests you!
--
The episodic nature of Assassin’s Creed: Valhalla means that its narrative is split into chunks. These chunks take place across the many shires of medieval England and vary in terms of length, depth and, well, pointlessness. I thought ranking them would be a fun exercise — a competition of story arcs, all vying for best Viking mini-narrative.
It goes without saying, but I’m about to spoil the whole damn game, so read at your own risk.
--
21. Wincestre
Wincestre is just another Lunden or Jorvik, accept with more Jesus, more King Aelfred and way less… anything worthwhile. This one was just a total nothing-burger of an experience. The fact that it comes so late in the narrative really hurts it, too, because by now you’ve experienced arcs that are a similar traditional Assassin’s Creed city-style that at least aren’t this bad. Aelfred’s turning on Eivor at the end also didn’t feel coherent, convincing or warranted to me. Big miss.
20. Lunden
The smaller, denser cities with multiple targets to track down and ‘social stealth’ options are certainly here to attempt to replicate the traditional AC experience, but Lunden fails to do so meaningfully, and even gets a huge points deduction for being misleading.
The arc is set up to feature twists with Stowe and Ercke (is one a traitor? Will your romancing of Stowe make things complicated?), but after their initial scenes they’re mitigated to what I would hardly even call side characters as Eivor unveils three randos as Order members, kills them and then leaves town. At least there was a cool boss sequence on the river?
19. Snotinghamscire
This arc sees you reunite with Hemmingr Jarl, his son Villi and his compatriot, Trygve. Eivor has an existing relationship with these characters, but the player doesn’t. As a result, nothing that happens with them lands meaningfully.
After Hemmingr passes, this arc boils down to running dull errands to prepare for the burial ceremony. Eivor chooses whether Villi or Trygve will succeed Hemmingr in the end, but the decision is very clear-cut and suggested to the player, lacking the nuance of the game’s other difficult decisions. This arc isn’t memorable, doesn’t concern the main quest, and feels like fluffy filler in the worst way.
18. Jorvik
Another version of the Lunden & Wincestre arcs, Jorvik is stronger than its competitors for presenting the Order members to your face before you deduce who they are. There was nothing shocking about their reveals, but each provided an interesting set piece to navigate during assassinations.
Problematically, the arc sets itself up for Eivor to accuse a traitor, only for her decision to not matter at all. You never get to act on your accusation at Yuletide — the Order member interrupts and attacks the feast no matter who you accuse.
17. Cent
The Cent arc sees Eivor team with Basim to track Fulke. It feels important and part of the main story, but it’s all for naught in the end — you come face-to-face with Fulke in what seems like a meaningful story moment, only for her to run away. Your reward is finding out Sigurd had his arm cut off.
This arc earns some points for getting Fulke screen time and tiptoeing the tightrope of Eivor and Basim’s rocky relationship believably, but certainly can’t be called good. This is because once you pull back the veil, you realize you never advanced the plot and were running in circles for nothing the entire time. At least the other “filler” arcs were forthright about their (lack of) connection to the main story.
16. Jotunheim
This arc has a compelling story to it — Odin running from his fate and bending over backwards to flee from it is interesting, his broken relationship with Loki should be a strong point for the arc, and his moral gray areas (sleeping with a Jotunn, betraying Tyr) certainly make for a complex character’s development.
It has the ingredients of a strong arc, but I just couldn’t shake the why am I doing this feeling I had the entire time. Everything in between Odin’s big moments is a fetch quest and I just felt like I was wasting my life.
This one is weird because on paper it feels like there’s a lot of substance here, but ultimately, I felt nothing while playing it besides contempt for having drank the potion in Ravensthorpe again.
15. Lincolnscire
Heir to the throne Hunwald is exiled from Lincoln and reaches out to Ravensthorpe for help. Eivor tracks down his sickly and dying father and then must cast the deciding vote for whom the new Ealdorman will be after his death.
The game wastes your time with one of Hunwald’s competitors, Aelfgar, (who is a dork) and paints the bishop as evil pretty clearly (he turns out to be an Order member). I suppose this arc could hit hard for someone who accidently put an Order member in charge. For that and for Hunwald at least having a strong drive and personality, this arc earns some marks.
14. Essex
Eivor is brought in to repair a marriage by separating husband and wife naturally without a public divorce. She reunites Ealdorman Birstan with his former lover and sets up a fake public kidnapping to whisk away his wife, Estrid.
I think many would rate this arc far lower than I have here because it is pure side mission nonsense — but for me, this arc stands strong on the backs of convincing and fun characters in Birstan and Estrid, as well as the tangled web of relationships between the two of them, Birstan’s son, and Rollo, Estrid’s former lover.
13. Ledecestrescire
Ledecestre sees the intros of Ivarr, Ubba and Ceowulf. You team up with the sons of Ragnar to help put Ceowulf’s father on the throne in Mercia.
Ledecestrescire earns points for strong, realized characters in the Ragnarsons and Ceowulf, a believable conflict with the Mercian king, as well as the arc’s biggest moment with killing or sparing Leofrith in Tamworth.
12. Asgard
Asgard looks pretty and hits hard when you first arrive. I appreciate Ubi for creating places like Atlantis and Asgard to run around and explore in.
Unfortunately, both felt supremely empty. However, watching Odin fight tooth and nail to run from his fate was satisfying and Loki is aptly deceptive and frustrating. The Builder gave the arc a nice wrinkle, too and climaxed with a nice boss fight.
I spent too much time tracking down tears, but I think if you look at just the main missions here, this is a solid experience in an incredible environment.
11. East Anglia
In this arc, Eivor works alongside Oswald to fend off violent Dane aggressors and claim his leadership role.
Oswald is honorable and likeable — watching him teach the Danes in his court that bravery can reveal itself in more nuanced ways rather than physically was powerful, and giving Eivor the decision to allow Oswald to fight his own battles or fight for him solidified the feeling of fathering Oswald through this arc into manhood and leadership.
I bought into this arc because I felt the story was touching and meaningful and the cast was strong.
10. Vinland
Nothing really happens here aside from hunting down Gorm Kjotveson, but the arc earns major points for how refreshing it is.
I played it late in the story when I was feeling quite a bit of fatigue towards the game and everything about Vinland just landed for me, giving me new energy to actually enjoy what I was doing.
The new landscape is insanely gorgeous and fun to navigate. The stripping down of Eivor’s equipment essentially forces you to start from scratch — but it really makes the four stealth encounters stronger; you have to approach them differently due to being unarmed and unarmored.
The whole thing was a little bit of a reset button for the entire experience of Valhalla and it sorely needed it.
9. Suthsexe
Suthsexe is the meeting with Guthrum and the rising action leading up to defeating Fulke.
The arc is fun, feels impactful as well as meaningful and sees you reunite with all the old friends you’ve made up to this point. Fighting alongside Soma and others was a big positive for me. Storming Fulke’s fort at least included some different mechanics than many forts up to this point, so it felt fresh. Her boss fight in the darkness of the crypts was exceptional, as was her confession sequence.
This arc was mostly good, satisfying fun the whole way through, but didn’t include too much intrigue as the ones ranked above it did.
8. Rygjafylke
Look, I’ll be honest. I’m writing this particular paragraph after completing the game and this opening section was so long ago that I don’t have a great memory of it.
What I do know is that Valhalla opened strongly. I found it all pretty compelling. I remember it being atmospheric, believable and driven by strong characters like Sigurd, Varin, Haytham, Basim and Kyotve. I was bought-in very early and Rygjafylke really got the game off to a strong start.
7. Hamtunscire & Epilogue
Aelfred screen time is a good thing, and this arc earns marks for his badassery in the face of Guthrum, as well as his manipulation of the Dane army. Ally deaths in the battle at Chepeham give the arc meaningful stakes and ratchet up the tension. This arc is brief and straightforward — there’s not much story to it since it’s really just war throughout the whole thing.
Afterwards, Eivor tracks down the final member of the Order and confronts him in a touching sequence over some burnt bread in a small swampy town in the middle of nowhere. It’s a humble conclusion for Aelfred and the swirling epic that was AC: Valhalla.
6. Hordafylke
The return to Norway contains two things: Eivor & Sigurd finding closure with Sigurd’s father, and the two locating “Yggdrasil.”
I quite enjoyed the pit stop with Sigurd’s father, and the entire Yggdrasil sequence was incredibly interesting. It was a refreshing change of pace from what you’ve been doing for the past 100 hours and featured a nice boss fight at the end. No matter which ending you get, the conversation with Sigurd after the dust settles is impactful and weighty.
5. Oxenefordscire
Finally reunited with Sigurd, this is the arc we learn of his obsession with his ancestry and true nature. Eivor’s reaction of discomfort and distrust towards Sigurd’s change is honest and relatable and she must juggle relations between Sigurd and the Thane they are working to put in charge, Gaedric.
Negotiations with King Aelfred are complex and a late intervention from Fulke reveals her true allegiance to the Order and puts Sigurd in enemy hands.
This arc moves the plot along moreso than the last 400 hours you’ve been playing the game, while also establishing and reinterpreting Eivor’s relations with the cast in meaningful ways. It ratchets up the tension of the main quest and narrative, which up to this point had been lagging behind due to a breadth of shire arcs.
4. Glowecestrecire
I’m so surprised to see myself rank this so high — after the first third of the arc, I was considering putting it in dead last. I felt Gunnar’s fiancé’s unintelligible dialogue, the trick-or-treating, the druid encounter, and Eivor’s 400th drunken night of debauchery to be a disrespectful waste of my time this deep (over 80 hours) into the game.
But then the arc turned, with two solid stealth encounters and a stellar boss fight. Navigating the Aelfwood was a gorgeous thrill and the confrontation with Modran is atmospheric and a fantastically fresh take on the typical Valhalla boss or mini boss fight.
When I decided to focus-up on the story and let the Celtic and Welsh mythos shine, the arc became a terrestrial fever dream of satisfying magic, intrigue and character interactions.
3. Grantebridgescire
Eivor looks to ally with Soma, the leader of Grantebridge, but her town’s just been sacked from the inside by a traitor. After saving her three companions in the thick river bogs, you take back Grantebridge and then embark on an investigation to discover the rat.
Its the investigation that makes the whole arc. It has a slew of clues, nuance and red herrings to consider. One of its strengths is how open ended the investigation is — you can follow the quest markers, but talking to the town’s people and hunting down the yellow-painted ship is up to you (at least I think, I played on the most ‘difficult’ exploration setting).
This arc earns big points because the investigation matters — you have to tell Soma to kill one of her closest friends and then watch her do it, living with your right or wrong decision.
2. Eurvicscire
Finally meeting the third of the famed Ragnarson’s, Eivor finds Halfdan a paranoid soul, waxing poetic about friendship and treason. The arc balances the two on a blade’s edge to tremendous effect.
Halfdan believes he has a traitor in his midst and the main culprit is his right-hand man, Faravid.
Faravid's dialogue is expertly written to feign allegiance to Halfdan, but never reveal too much of his true nature. Eivor’s wavering relationship and trust with him are complex and the Wolf-Kissed can lie to both him and Halfdan depending on dialogue choice. Every decision feels like it carries weight. It’s this ambiguity that makes the arc compelling and gives the decisions importance.
This arc could feel disconnected (it’s not part of the main plot and Halfdan doesn’t appear in the late game, no matter your decision) and thus appear as pointless fluff, but I won’t fault it for that. As a self-contained story, this was flat-out interesting and kept me in anticipation of the next reveal or twist. Imagery and foreshadowing, red-herrings, and great atmosphere all make for an engaging and compelling experience. I only wish every shire arc could’ve reached these heights.
1. Sciropscire
Sciropescire’s strengths come somewhat from the arcs that came before it, as it sees Eivor quickly reunited and working with Ivarr and Ceowulf. Your preexisting relationship with both gives this arc an advantage over others where it doesn’t have to establish too much all at once, as well as it starting off with you already having a personal connection of some sort with the main cast. Still, each set piece here is strong enough on its own –

1. Eivor & co. join to negotiate peace with King Rhodri. She can offer 600 silver to whomever she chooses to try and quell the peace talks. Each option is mired in obscurity, has obvious pros and cons, and plenty of uncertainty. It felt impactful, difficult and nuanced.
2. After peace talks go sour with Ivarr’s outburst, Eivor, Ivarr and Ceowulf sack a village under Rhodri’s control. It’s brutal and takes a long time to burn (on purpose!). You then fight a huge party of Rhodri’s men. The whole scene feels vile, over the top and harsh (on purpose!).
3. The twist is that Ivarr kills Ceowulf in cold blood to earn himself the opportunity to get his own revenge on Rhodri — only revealed after you sack Rhodri’s fort (after reaching peace with him). A brutal blood eagle from Ivarr and the game’s best boss fight ensue.

It’s close between the top 3, but this is the best arc in the game, for me.
For once, the game forces you to face the trail of bloodshed and destruction your ‘pacifying’ of England has left in your wake. Additionally, the ambiguous decision-making process in negotiating peace, the brutal village burning sequence, the tangled web of Ivarr’s relationships and motivations, the twists of the peaceful alliance and Rhodri’s fate, and finally, the Ivarr boss fight are just too good all in tandem to not take first place.
--
I’m conflicted looking back on these.
There’s many that feel even more empty than I remember them being now that I draft them as text. However, a surprising number of highly-rated arcs aren’t actually part of the main quest.
Ultimately, I’m left bewildered at the scale and scope of the epic that this game took me on. I was so fatigued by the end of it, but in hindsight so happy I completed it.

Entry 1:
It's gone. It's all gone. Jeff was the first to notice, as he was outside the ISS for maintenance work, when he told us we thought he went mad, but, when we looked for ourselves, we saw it; the earth, moon, sun, everything, all gone. Not even a spec of debris, like a quiet rapture. At first we thought we might have gone mad, that the loneliness had finally got to us, but, we soon came to realize that we hadn't gone mad. Now, It's just me, Sarah, Bill, and Jeff, the rest of the crew went home, with their replacements on course to arrive soon…
Entry 2:
Jeff is taking it the worst, and I don't blame him. He had a wife, 3 kids, friends, and now, he doesn't. He’s locked himself in his sleeping quarters, only coming out to eat, drink, exercise, and then he goes right back in. The first few days, all I heard was crashing, screams, and other sounds of chaos coming from there. It's since calmed down though. Sarah is also starting to feel the effects, but focuses on work, trying to find out how to conserve power now that we can't get any more due to the sun vanishing and rendering our solar panels useless.
Entry 3:
Jeff has really gone off the deep end. He keeps rambling about how this is a punishment from God, and how we all must repent. He even tried to attack me once, screaming about how I was “filled with sin” and that I was “nothing but a scourge on us all”. Luckily Bill got him off of me.
Entry 4:
Jeff and Sarah were arguing, with Jeff throwing things at her. None of us intervened for fear of also becoming a target. On even grimmer news, the power beginning to fail, we have enough for a few more days Sarah predicts Entry 5:
He killed her. Aleksandr was the first to find her, or what's left of her. Her chest was sprawled open, with ribs looking like teeth, and her organs were neatly laid out besides her. The walls were coated in strange symbols and religious ramblings about how the quiet rapture came for us, that we all had sinned and must repent if we want to go home again, and it was all written in her blood. We tried to find Jeff, who we assumed could be the only culprit, but we couldn’t find him.
Entry 6:
I awoke to a rustling noise in my room, and saw Jeff staring at me, on all fours like an animal. As soon as he saw me staring, he hissed and left. He was pale and just skin and bones.
Entry 7:
Our oxygen supply is running low due to the electrolysis systems beginning to fail. I don't know how long we have left. God save us,if there is one.
Entry 8:
Bill took the easy way out. I found him hanging on a rope in his room. Light systems are also failing, and I'll be occasionally plunged into darkness. Luckily my exercise machine works, otherwise my muscles would begin to atrophy.
Entry 9: Our my water and food supply is running low, and I occasionally notice that some more than what I ate vanished, probably taken by Jeff.
Entry 10:
Oxygen has run out, so i have to wear a space suit and use its oxygen tank to get by. Jeff has surprisingly not shown up at all.
Entry 11:
Jeff confronted me, surprisingly not in a space suit despite the lack of oxygen. His skin was taut and pale, covered in blotches and blisters. His lips were missing, leaving him a permanent smile. And its eyes were cold and dead, bloodshot from lack of sleep. And right below it's eyes, were stains, as if it's been crying so much it's stained its skin. Itm spoke to me in a voice, whose tone and pitch I could not identify. “You have not yet paid for your sins,and your suffering has not been enough. But you know what you did. Repent now and be spared, or grovel in suffering." I didn't know what to say, what sins could it be talking about? “Wh-what sins..?” I managed to mutter out in shaking breaths. “Don't be stubborn.” it replied coldly. “You know what you did, the innocents you hurt.” my head was spinning, trying to wrap around its words. “I -I don't know what you're talking about..!” I yelled out, surprising myself at my sudden outburst. “Very well.” it said, and the lights in the ship flickered, and when they came back on, it was gone, replaced with the word sinner sprawled across the wall in blood. After a while, I noticed a wetness in my hands, and when I looked down, I saw that they were coated in a crimson red.

I’ve always been really into ghost stories, or urban legends in general. The White Lady, haunted dolls, vampires, black eyed children, that kind of stuff. I know that, today, people my age aren’t big fans of that kind of horror anymore, preferring it things like the Backrooms, analog horror, all the new kinds of scary media. Honestly, I get it, things do need to evolve, and when we see everything that’s happening in the world, it’s understandable that a good old ghost story don’t do the job anymore.

Still, the “old fashioned” horror (it’s not that old, but things move fast on the internet) is always my jam. I grew up watching youtubers investigating haunted places, ghost hunting, with all their accessories, EMF meters, their little radio thing that they use to listen to radio frequencies so that they can hear any interference, their antenna that beeps when something approaches it, voice recorders, special flashlights, and let me tell you that all this, it was doing it for me.

So, since my, probably 7 years, I dreamt of doing these things myself. Of course, I tried everything a young boy is able to do, like Ouija or stupidly walking around my house with my phone filming, hoping that some random deceased person with unfinished business will show up to, I don’t know, have a chat. I wish I could say that other people’s judgement doesn’t affect me, but that would be a lie, so, going in to high school, I had to socially tone down my interest for those things in order to have friends. None of my friends and classmates knew about my persisting passion for ghosts and creepy stories.

I realize that keeping this such a secret is a bit ridiculous, especially approaching my 18^th birthday, but, you know, it would be even weirder to reveal it after hiding it for almost 6 years like it was something super taboo. So here I was, I started hiding my passion at 12 to avoid other’s judging it, and I’m now still hiding it at 17 to avoid others judging the fact that I hid it… A bit pathetic I got to admit.

Anyway, everything started a few days ago. I have an art history class at school and the teacher really likes to give us big works of research. This time, he had a new idea, the whole class will be divided into groups of two, and each group will receive a building from our city that the teacher had choose for his architectural and artistic interests, and we’ll have to give it a visit and write an analysis on the different things we’ll notice and link it to what we saw in class. Since all the buildings were not public places, he had asked the authorization of every property’s owner.

Honestly, this could have been worse. This actually sounded kinda cool to do. Now, what I was concerned about was who will be my partner. Obviously, I was hoping for one of my friends. After explaining the rules and exact instructions for the work, he started to announce the groups. I was waiting to hear my name, anxious, as all my friends were slowly starting to be put into their groups.

“Joshua!” The teacher said (yeah that’s my name). “You will be with…” I was holding on to my chair. “… Elizabeth!”

I turned to Elizabeth, and we looked at each other. Neither one of us seemed excited. It wasn’t a terrible pair, I thought to myself, I just didn’t know what to think of it exactly. Elizabeth was a pretty popular girl, not that I was an outcast or anything, but she was still way more popular than me. I didn’t know much more about her, despite the fact that we were in the same class since my first year of high school, but it looked like she was going to be an okay partner.

The teacher then gave us our building. I won’t reveal the real name of what he gave us so I’ll call it “Guaraldi’s Street 22”. Apparently, it was a pretty old house that had somewhat of an historic value to it. The teacher gave us some information so we wouldn’t stumble there without any prior knowledge. The owner was an old woman who had always lived there. She was apparently very glad to open her doors to young students and was ready to answer any questions we could have. He warned us that she had a weak audition and that we would have to speak loudly. The teacher then recommended us to do a little bit of research before going there, so we could already have some idea of where we were entering.

I then found myself in front of Elizabeth. I think the last time we even talked to each other was months ago when she was distributing a test to the class and that I said “Thanks”, so, yeah, not a lot of background. I noticed, and I don’t know why it took me so long, I guess I never paid much attention to her, that she was dressed in kind of an old style, she wore some clearly used dungarees. The date the teacher had scheduled for our visit was on Sunday, and we were Thursday.

“So, hum, I guess, we can both do research on our side, and we’ll meet, maybe at lunch break tomorrow to get on the same page. Is that good for you?” She asked me.

“Yeah, that’s good, we can do that.”

“Okay, then, see you tomorrow.” She said.

“See you.”

On that she turned her feet and left for her break. The rest of the day went by and I got back home. As usual, my mom wasn’t there, she often has to work late as she’s a single mom to me and my little sister Rosa. I ate my diner and went to my room. I opened my computer to start my research. It wasn’t hard to find information, even though things were repeating themselves a lot: “so much historical meaning for the city”, “a perfect example of “art-deco” architecture”, “a house filled with stories”. There was a lot of talk by local medias about it, but not much actual facts.

It was so weak, that I had to go to page 2 of the search results on google, or, as I like to call them, “the abyss of the internet” (I’m exaggerating a bit, but it’s not often that you have to go there).
Then, something caught my eyes. It was a forum about paranormal experiences, and the address was mentioned on a post. I immediately clicked on it and read the whole thing. It wasn’t exactly the most thrilling story I’ve read, but here’s what it basically said.

Apparently, the owner opened the house as a cottage during the summer, and the person posting was narrating what he experienced during his passage there. He described a very special and kinda suffocating vibe that was apparently all around the house, and the feeling of being observed all the time. He also talked about hearing voices at random moments. They were brief but often mentioned his name. The end of his testimony talked about his last night, when he said he saw a little child with no facial expression in front of his bed, who slowly started to climb into it and grabbed his legs, trying to pull him outside of his bed. The poster said he eventually succeeded to push the kid away, despite his unreal strength, and that the boy ended up running out of the room, laughing. When he spoke to the owner about it the next morning, she said that it must have been his imagination playing tricks on him, as she didn’t believe in paranormal and that nothing similar ever happened to her.

This wasn’t much, it could have been a complete lie, but I would be lying if I said it didn’t peak my curiosity. The story was as basic as it could be, but it was so specific for it to happen in that place, which was absolutely not famous, and even less for any paranormal events. I kept that in the back of my mind and continued my research, but I didn’t find much more, so I went to sleep.

As I was lying in my bed, I was thinking. What if the person who posted his story said the truth. This was the first time I was going to enter somewhere that old and charged with history, this could be the perfect place for my first ghost-hunt. But of course, I was going for school and won’t be alone, plus, it’s not really respectful to the owner, who kindly opened the doors of her family house to us. And even if I wanted to, I’d be constantly with Elizabeth, so, it was not really an option. I looked at the EMF meter I received for a birthday on my shelf and thought to myself that this would be for another time.

The next day, as planned, I met with Elizabeth at lunch break. We started to share the results of our research, where I did not include the post from the forum for obvious reasons. We talked a bit before coming to a clear conclusion.

“Yeah, the thing is, we have the same exact stuff, there isn’t much interesting infos to be found online, except very surface level stuff.” She said.

“Yes, I think we should prepare the questions we want to ask the owner instead.” I answered.

“You’re right, do you think you can have yours for Sunday?”

“Yeah, no problem.”

We exchanged a bit more and eventually went back to class.

On Saturday, I prepared a few questions to ask the owner.

Then came today, Sunday. The meeting was planned at 11AM. I woke up normally, took a breakfast, got dressed, everything. Before leaving my room, I took one last look at the room and I saw my EMF meter. It was like he was begging me to take him. I grabbed it and left. I didn’t know if I would actually use it, but I had it. It had an option where instead of lighting the small lamps he was vibrating, so I activated that and put it in my pocket.

I arrived at the house and Elizabeth was already waiting for me. We knocked and we could hear the owner walking towards the door saying “Yes, yes, just a second.” She opened and she looked like the sweetest thing ever. She was short and had a naturally kind face. We could see that she was clearly dressed and make up for the occasion. She welcomed us and let us in happily. The hallway was very pretty, I understood why our teacher got us this house, it was indeed very interesting. The walls were covered with paintings and old pictures, mostly portraits. On everyone of these, the people had a very serious look, but that’s not unusual for old pictures.

We walked to the living room where she served us tea and we sat together.

“So, I think you have some questions for me?” She asked. You could see that she was very glad to talk. “Don’t be shy, I’m open.”

Elizabeth started to ask her first question then I did, and we could ask her everything.

The house was her family’s for many generations, but it hadn’t always been theirs. All the persons in the hallway, paintings or pictures, were previous habitants of the house, and they went as far as the 15th century, so, yeah, it was all pretty old. She said they could only know the identity of some of the first generations but that a lot of the people were non identified. She answered a lot of other questions regarding the architectural and artistic heritage of the building, and she was surprisingly very interesting to listen to. Her enthusiasm and kindness were contagious, and we both couldn’t help but ask more questions.

Eventually, we arrived to the end of our list, and it was time for us to visit, take notes, analyze, all that. She asked us not to touch anything, as a lot of things had a lot of value, but let us wander free in the house. She said she’ll be making cookies for when we’ll be done. Elizabeth and I found ourselves alone in the living room and finished our tea.

“God,… She’s adorable.” Said Elizabeth with a smile.

“Yes, she’s so sweet, I wasn’t expecting that.” I said.

“Let’s, maybe start with there.” She said, pointing to the room besides us.

We got up and entered it. The walls were covered by huge bookshelves. Elizabeth started to take notes, looking at the room, and I started inspecting the books. There was probably a more than a thousand books, and some of them looked super old. I read the titles of some of them, and the least I could say was that it needed to be rearranged. “Cooking Asian Food”, “Harry Potter and The Half Blood Prince”, some old book with the title erased, and even a CD in the middle, it was a bit random.

We eventually moved on to the hallway. It was a bit oppressing with all those eyes who seemed to observe us. Elizabeth did mention how it felt a bit weird and we started to take notes again. At some point, my look stopped on one painting at the back of the hall. It was a young lady, dressed classically, maybe a bit poorly even, for someone who would have lived there. She was kinda pretty, if I’m being honest. But the reason why it caught my eyes was that it was the only one who was smiling. All the other people represented looked dead serious, but her, she smiled. A sweet, even caring and warm smile. I noticed that it seemed like she was staring at me. Of course, a lot of paintings give that same impression, but it was more intense on her.

My heart skipped a beat. I was sure that I just saw her winked to me. I let out a gasp. I was convinced she winked at me. The vibe went from slightly oppressive to extremely heavy. Then we both heard it.

“Elizabeth.”

An unrecognizable voice had just whispered. Elizabeth turned to me.

“Did you say that?” She asked.

“Elizabeth.”

A younger voice this time. We were facing each other, so we knew it couldn’t be one of us this time, and the owner was in the kitchen. Elizabeth’s eyes opened wide and she slowly walked towards me.

“Elizabeth.”

She jumped.

“WHAT THE… fuck?” I let out. We were looking around us.

“Joshua, I don’t like this…”

“Yeah, me neither.”

We were frozen in place, with all the paintings looking right to us.

“Elizabeth.”

That time it was a deep voice, and it came from behind us. We turned. Slowly, all the faces of the paintings and pictures started to clearly move. They were opening their eyes wide and opening their mouths, maintaining their serious, and now even melancholic look.

“Holy shit, holy shit, what the fuck is that, what is it!” Elizabeth was mumbling, panicking as I was starting to breathe faster.

All the people started to say her name together on repeat: “Elizabeth, Elizabeth, Elizabeth…” I turned my head to the painting of the young lady from earlier, and she was the only one that wasn’t moving, still the same smile, she looked at peace.

I don’t remember exactly what I was whispering at that moment, but we were both freaking out.

We heard some scratching noise. Long, dirty hands with sharp nails, almost inhumans, were piercing the pictures and paintings. The eyes of the people were becoming all black, and their jaws were opening more than humanly possible as they kept on repeating her name. The hands were all getting closer from us. We were now touching one another, completely surrounded by those hands. Then, they moved way faster and a lot of them got their nails right into Elizabeth’s skin and pierced it while descending all over her body.

She screamed loudly out of pain. It was a terrifying scream. All the hands got to their pictures and back inside of it while closing what they pierced. Soon, the pictures and paintings were back to normal, but Elizabeth was bleeding from all over her body and was on the floor, crying. I got to her level and tried as much as possible to reassure her, but I wasn’t very effective as I was myself in shock and terrified.
We heard the owner walk towards us.

“What’s happening to you two? I heard screams, are you okay?”

She entered the hallway and saw the scene. She looked completely shocked.

“But what happened?” She asked.

Both of us were unable to answer to her, we had no idea what to say that wouldn’t make us sound crazy, so we just looked at her with whatever faces we were making at that moment. She didn’t wait long and went to take a first aid kid. She sat down and put some bandages all over Elizabeth, as I was reflecting on what happened. When she was done, we both wanted to leave, so we said that we had what we needed for now. She looked sorry and packed some cookies for each of us. As we opened the door to leave, she articulated one last phrase.

“I hope you’ll come back.” She had a look and a tone of sadness. We got out and were now on the street.

We both looked at each other. She was covered in bands, like she got into a huge fight. I started to speak but she lifted her hand.

“Not today. Another one.” She said. “I’ll see you at school.” And she left.

I got on my way too and gave one last look to the house. The old owner was watching me from her window, and I couldn’t tell what her expression was.

I was too tired so I ignored it and went back to my house.

I’m posting this now that I’m back at home. I have no news of Elizabeth, but she did add me on Instagram, so…

I have no idea what I should do now, I have so many questions, so, if anyone has any theories, I’ll take it. I’m also open to questions of course…

Previous First Chapter Next
Prometheus's defences had started to fail, as it took increased amounts of fire, from drones and ships of the Kirosian and Cerian space fleets. The situation was beginning to get grim, as Beyond's forces were reduced to only forty ships. It seemed as if any cries for help, would get lost in the depths of space.
However, a light began to shine on the visitors from Earth, as over a thousand Azurian ships, came in alleviating the pressure. The entire armada and reserve.
The one leading the charge, broadcasted a message to his fleet before the attack. "My people, and those of you watching back home. Today we have watched members of our clan die on this forsaken planet. Right now, our benefactors and the future Queen of Azuria are at risk of perishing to the monsters who threaten our very way of life and our existence... Forgive this selfish king, but will you follow me into battle and help me save my granddaughter and our allies?!"
Everyone watching, roared in response and stomped in rhythm. "Hai!"
Akio smiled. "Then, let us be victorious!"
The broadcast ended, as his ship, the Azure Dragon, descended towards Rennaya, ignoring the barrage of missiles fired by the Pandora. Akio looked back with a pained look, at the remaining, twenty-two Hashin with him, standing in formation by the bay door.
"I have seen all of you, grow up, trained you and guided you. I have seen you find love, be hurt, and find true happiness. Each of you are my kin, nothing can hold us back when we work together and no one can stop us." He took a deep breath, then continued. "However my comrades. Today is the one day, you are excused from your duties. This mission is out of respect for my child and the level of danger is much more than I can even anticipate. I will not fault any of you or hold a single grudge if you feel like walking out of that door right now."
None of the Hashin, flinched, nor budged, they didn't doubt each other either. Making Akio's lips tremble. "Do you know what I'm asking of you? You're lives, will be forfeit the moment we enter Rennaya."
Roku stepped up, unveiling his mask. "Do not disrespect us, Akio. Our honour was tarnished, the moment we let our prince die alone out there. We are failing right now to protect our King. Please allow us, to protect the next Queen and our Elder. For Azuria!"
He glanced back at the soldiers. "Isn't that right?!"
They stomped to rhythm, in agreement. "Hai!"
The General smiled as he watched a tear roll down the Elder's cheek. "Cheer up old friend. Let us die with you." He said, as one by one, the Hashin began jumping out of the bay doors.
On the outskirts of Senae, Atlas vs Tobi & Osei...
Osei launched several volleys ahead, as he called on lightning to reinforce himself. Atlas was elated, dissipating the volleys with electric volleys of his own, then blocked his charge, as he reached out and manifested an intricate sword out of the ground below. Which slipped into his hand, just in time to block a flaming strike from Tobi, coming from behind him and managed to push him back.
"Bring it on!" He yelled out to the brothers, while unsheathing his own sword with his other hand, then began simultaneously parrying and striking back at them both.
He broke the deadlock, then twirled around quickly in place, creating a hurricane barrier, pushing them both back. Then threw the sword he created, at Tobi, who managed to deflect it, with quick reflexes, however, the force of the impact stung his hands, distracting him for a second.
A chance the emperor did not hesitate to take, as he dodged a charge from Osei and instead, teleported behind Tobi, while raising his own sword, high above his head.
"No!" Osei yelled out.
Atlas's eyes glimmered, as he smiled, seeing both of the brothers in despair. "Imperial Judgement, Execution!"
The wind followed the emperor's strike, erasing the landscape behind Tobi, as a massive fountain of blood, sprayed out of a gaping new cut, diagonally down his chest. He dropped to the floor, dozens of meters from his original position, as he held onto his chest, freezing his wound and convulsing. It was taking everything he could, to not fall unconscious, however eventually, the darkness took over.
"I... I... I won't forgive you!" Osei yelled out furiously, losing it, as Atlas laughed out loud.
Then, he glanced back at him, soaking in the torment, he was putting the prince through. "Don't worry, he won't die. I still need him. I just wanted to make sure he had a good nap." He said, pointing his right hand at Tobi's body, as a coffin of ice, swallowed him and began healing his wound back, slowly.
Osei could not believe, the situation they were in. It felt surreal after everything he had been through. Something deep within him, began to snap, as years of trauma, boiled up to a single point. He lunged, at full speed, striking Atlas' sword, with overbearing might, and pushed him flying back into an area away from Tobi. "You bring disaster with you, everywhere you go. You're existence, is the only one, this galaxy... No, this universe never needed!"
Osei struck down as the emperor hopped to his left, freezing the prince's sword to the ground. Osei managed to break his hands-free and followed up with a high kick to his face.
Atlas bent back, nearly missing the strike, then gave him two quick punches. One to his face, the other in his gut, bursting forth a beam of ice, as it crashed him through several hills.
Osei got up, coughing blood. "Not yet! Thunder Raika!"
Lightning crashed down, meeting an umbrella of ice, that the emperor managed to raise in time, with its hilt redirecting the charge into the ground. "It's over. Just give up. You did your best."
Osei clenched his fists, seething. What must his people be thinking of him? What would his parents do?
He felt as if he had failed them and could no longer take it anymore. "Not yet. As long as I draw breath..."
He placed his hands together, condensing a massive amount of electricity within a small violet sphere, dozens of times over. "Remo Raieqa!" It shattered forth, beaming violently and eating away the landscape on the way, to Atlas.
Atlas raised a finger, as a sphere of ice, held together an unfathomable amount of pressure, causing cracks in the sphere itself. Then, he launched it towards Osei's incoming attack. "Wind Sovereign!"
The shockwave, followed by a razor blast of wind, dispersed his beam in half and dissipated it as it crashed into Osei's chest, knocking him off of his feet, and crashing him through the terrain. Osei was having a hard time, keeping his eyes open. He felt bruises and fractures in multiple parts of his body. "I've failed." A tear fell down his cheek, as his regrets ate him up.
"No, my son." His eyes glanced to his left, as he raised his head. It was as if he was daydreaming, with illusions blending in with reality.
"Mom?" He asked, unbelieving of what he was seeing.
She smiled while keeping her hands above his chest, healing him, as someone else knelt to his right and spoke. "We failed you."
He glanced at the face of a very familiar man. One wearing a crown, with a remorseful and saddened expression. "Dad? But how?"
His memory took him back to the explanations, the Novas and Tobi gave of the ethereal plane. However other than Tobi, the others had only seen one or a few Rennayans each.
Zenu shook his head. "We should have been certain of you and your brother's safety, from the very beginning. The life you've had to go through. I can never forgive myself for that."
Safiyah was fighting back tears, but she took over. "We are so sorry. Will you forgive us?"
Osei, laughed, with tears escaping his eyes. "I've never blamed you for anything. I wish things never went the way they did. You were the greatest parents. My only regret is not having enough strength to restore Rennaya myself."
He covered his eyes. "I'm sorry father, I'm no prince. I've failed to keep my brother safe and I've failed to bring justice for our people."
Zenu smiled. "If we can be forgiven, then you can too. Come on, get up."
Osei pondered about what he meant, but as he got up, slowly, his eyes grew wide. Standing around them, with Waio in front, were hundreds of millions, if not a billion people.
Safiyah spoke up. "My little Osei, no one blames you for anything, you've far exceeded what was expected of you and gave hope to the galaxy once more. You have done your part. Let us help you, with what you want to do. However, I would advise you to take your brother and escape immediately."
Osei was a little dumbfounded to be once again, seeing so many of his people. It was a little difficult for him to speak. "Thank... You."
He shook his thoughts away, remembering his mission. Then he reached his hand out, as his sword, flew back into his palm, hilt first. "I have to keep my little brother safe. My people, I ask of you, please lend me your strength."
They all began to kneel and punch the ground, as their fists broke through into a deep abyss of darkness. Each of their eyes, began to glow, like a domino effect. They all smiled and spoke together. "Yes, Your Highness."
Osei was stunned, as multiple branches of energy began, opening up, within his body.
Waio spoke up. "Do not be alarmed, my pupil. Of course, you're affinity is high with your people. All of Rennaya once celebrated your birth as a sign of hope, prosperity, and good times to come."
Seeing Waio again, made it hard for him to keep his composure. He continued to look around, remembering all of the faces, of people he used to know, as his parents placed their hands on his shoulders, then spoke in unison. "Whatever you do from now on just know, that we are proud of you and we will always love you, no matter what."
He nodded, as his tears dried up, along with them all disappearing, as Atlas broke the silence. "I was waiting back there, expecting you to come back up. You know, with how you couldn't forgive me and whatnot, but instead I find you bawling your eyes out here. What's the matter with you?"
Osei wiped his eyes, then swung his sword to his side, and released all of the built-up energy he had gathered. A skull with markings similar to Tobi's manifested over his face, then crumbled apart, as his eyes, glowed bright blue, with purple and black veins, coursing through his body, pulsing in intervals. His hair flashed full silver, then settled, mixing evenly with the rest of his jet-black hair.
Mist escaped his mouth, with each breath he took, as rings of fire crushed the ground, followed by tremors and thousands of lightning strikes. He had reached his peak.
"Sorry for the wait. I'm alright now. Let's settle this." He spoke calmly, as the tension, rose between them. They stared each other down with pure malice. Yet the emperor could not help noticing, the phenomenon occurring around him.
He laughed, realizing what was happening. "It would seem, the reports were true. The suits that have been granting your human allies, abilities, can also bring about miracles near death. It was tragic what happened on Valtorin, but it was a truly valuable experience. Luckily our drone captured everything, but to be witnessing it myself here... I'm getting even more excited."
Osei, cracked his neck, then crouched, charging up electricity, as his sword caught fire. Then he struck vertically, ripping apart the ground between them, as the aerial strike jetted with at an incredible speed.
Atlas was surprised by Osei's growth. Forcing him to shift into second gear, as he raised a steel wall out of the ground. Which forced him to drop Tobi out of his chamber and woke him up, as he wondered where his brother went.
Atlas drew his sword, coating it in fire. "I raised you. Yet, you dare stand against me!"
Osei laughed out loud. "Every living moment under you was hell. You're just a robot, gone wrong. It's time for you to get tossed to the junkyard."
The emperor glared at him, a vein nearly bursting out, on his temple. "I see, you're prepared to die."
They lunged at each other, bringing absolute devastation to their surroundings, as both of them aimed for the kill. Osei broke the deadlock, jumping back, then pointed a palm at the ground, as it started to rise. "Doteko Ohoni."
A gigantic replica of him rose out of the ground, with its inner body fueled by lava and its outer covered in titanium, diamonds, & other gems. In its hand, a sword the size of a building maintained violent, violet flames coated over it, as lightning continuously struck it.
Atlas's eyes grew wide, then he turned around, to retreat in the opposite direction while preparing a condensed sphere of lava. However, the giant lunged after him and swung vertically with precision, before he could escape.
The emperor spun around just in time, thrusting the sphere at the giant's sword, to mitigate some of the force as he was sent flying across the country. He tried regaining mobility, midflight, but the winds were too much, that's when he saw a looming shadow, covering the sky, and beginning to descend.
Atlas immediately threw his hands into the air, trying to launch anything to protect himself on time. However violet lightning struck the giant, aiding his descent down even faster and leaving a devastating impact on the face of the planet.
Osei hovered over, feeling the emperor's life force, still burning strong below. "You don't deserve any mercy!" He yelled out, knowing he could still hear him, then raised his right hand to the sky. It began to rain and then seconds later, the rain clumped together while freezing into sparrows, charged with electricity.
He watched as the remains of the giant was split in half, by a beam of lava. As it broke apart, he didn't hesitate and dropped his hand. "Kraman Armada!"
Millions of sparrows crashed down onto the emperor, cutting him up, and bombarding him with intense stings and surges. Then, froze him in a massive iceberg of birds, shocking him nonstop with tens of billions of volts.
Osei crouched down and gathered all of his energy to the edge of his blade, then burned it hotter than ever, with fire & electricity, as dark clouds supplied him with an endless capacity. He frosted his hands over to protect himself from the heat, as a superheated coat of magma pulled itself together over his blade, adding to the firepower.
He thought of everyone he needed to do this for and sealed his resolve. "Let's finish this."
Atlas was trapped, defenceless as he tried to melt himself free. Regardless of anything he could have done, it would have been too late, as Osei shot out of the sky, like lightning.
"Raieqa Omega!" He yelled before he cut through the ice and Atlas at the same time. Wiping out the entire landscape around and behind Atlas, as he whizzed past, sheathing his sword.
He turned around cursing, as multiple side effects started to take effect on his body, disorientating him, as he watched Atlas stitch back the half of his body that had nearly been cut clean. "I missed." He whispered to himself.
Atlas noticed, that several of his circuits were not working the same, since his core was nicked. He glared at Osei, with a deadly look. "You've gone too far!"
Osei smirked, knowing he struck a nerve. "I could say the same for you!" He heaved, trying to catch his breath. 'Hold on Osei, just one more.' He told himself, as he gathered up the last of his energy within him and formed a stance.
Atlas looked down at the ground, as his anger boiled over the top. All five of the elements began to rampage all around them, simultaneously. Disappearing as each one laid waste to the environment. His hair began to flash silver, as earthquakes raged the continent.
Osei's eyes grew wide, as he noticed the emperor's energy skyrocketing.
His eyes went white, then slotted back to a glowing bloodshot red. New pressure emanated from him, making the air, seem heavier to breathe. As he spoke, his voice sent chills down Osei's spine. "It's time to end this."
Osei, clenched his teeth, leaping at lightning speed. "Raieqa Omega!"
His sword, this time, collided with Atlas's, but the force of the emperor swinging back, sent him flying back over half a kilometre. Osei dropped his sword, unable to hold onto it, as he skidded, crashing across a field. He quickly got up, putting all of the energy he could muster into a condensed violet flaming sphere, charging it with electricity, and spinning around a core of magma.
Frost covered his hands, as the heat of its orbit, began cutting into his palms. He thrust it forth, just in time as the emperor landed in front of him. "Seiaqa Ultimate!"
Atlas smirked as he raised his hand at the incoming blast. Then it began to split around him as it seemingly struck an invisible barrier in front of it. Visible only as it began to crack.
Osei staggered, letting up in disbelief that it had done nothing to the emperor. He watched as Atlas raised a finger toward him, with a disappointed, yet saddened expression. "You were a good warrior. You just didn't know, who you were up against." He spoke calmly, as the sky seemed to go dark, raining with occasional rings of thunder, while he darted his finger in five thrusts at Osei's body. "Particle Decimation."
Tobi had just arrived. Just in time, to watch his brother drop to the floor.
Notes:
Raika means bolt in Rennayan.
Remo means concentrated in Rennayan.
Raieqa means shock or volt in Rennayan.
Saieqa Ultimate is ultimate lightning in Rennayan.
Kraman and Doteko Ohoni (Stone King, possibility) were taken from the Ghanian language and used as part of the Rennayan, but I may have misplaced the translations.
Previous First Chapter Next

Previous First Chapter Next
Prometheus's defences had started to fail, as it took increased amounts of fire, from drones and ships of the Kirosian and Cerian space fleets. The situation was beginning to get grim, as Beyond's forces were reduced to only forty ships. It seemed as if any cries for help, would get lost in the depths of space.
However, a light began to shine on the visitors from Earth, as over a thousand Azurian ships, came in alleviating the pressure. The entire armada and reserve.
The one leading the charge, broadcasted a message to his fleet before the attack. "My people, and those of you watching back home. Today we have watched members of our clan die on this forsaken planet. Right now, our benefactors and the future Queen of Azuria are at risk of perishing to the monsters who threaten our very way of life and our existence... Forgive this selfish king, but will you follow me into battle and help me save my granddaughter and our allies?!"
Everyone watching, roared in response and stomped in rhythm. "Hai!"
Akio smiled. "Then, let us be victorious!"
The broadcast ended, as his ship, the Azure Dragon, descended towards Rennaya, ignoring the barrage of missiles fired by the Pandora. Akio looked back with a pained look, at the remaining, twenty-two Hashin with him, standing in formation by the bay door.
"I have seen all of you, grow up, trained you and guided you. I have seen you find love, be hurt, and find true happiness. Each of you are my kin, nothing can hold us back when we work together and no one can stop us." He took a deep breath, then continued. "However my comrades. Today is the one day, you are excused from your duties. This mission is out of respect for my child and the level of danger is much more than I can even anticipate. I will not fault any of you or hold a single grudge if you feel like walking out of that door right now."
None of the Hashin, flinched, nor budged, they didn't doubt each other either. Making Akio's lips tremble. "Do you know what I'm asking of you? You're lives, will be forfeit the moment we enter Rennaya."
Roku stepped up, unveiling his mask. "Do not disrespect us, Akio. Our honor was tarnished, the moment we let our prince die alone out there. We are failing right now to protect our King. Please allow us, to protect the next Queen and our Elder. For Azuria!"
He glanced back at the soldiers. "Isn't that right?!"
They stomped to rhythm, in agreement. "Hai!"
The General smiled as he watched a tear roll down the Elder's cheek. "Cheer up old friend. Let us die with you." He said, as one by one, the Hashin began jumping out of the bay doors.
Outskirts of Senae, Atlas vs Tobi & Osei...
Osei launched several volleys ahead, as he called on lightning to reinforce himself. Atlas was elated, dissipating the volleys with electric volleys of his own, then blocked his charge, as he reached out and manifested an intricate sword out of the ground below. Which slipped into his hand, just in time to block a flaming strike from Tobi, coming from behind him and managed to push him back.
"Bring it on!" He yelled out to the brothers, while unsheathing his own sword with his other hand, then began simultaneously parrying and striking back at them both.
He broke the deadlock, then twirled around quickly in place, creating a hurricane barrier, pushing them both back. Then threw the sword he created, at Tobi, who managed to deflect it, with quick reflexes, however, the force of the impact stung his hands, distracting him for a second.
A chance the emperor did not hesitate to take, as he dodged a charge from Osei and instead, teleported behind Tobi, while raising his own sword, high above his head.
"No!" Osei yelled out.
Atlas's eyes glimmered, as he smiled, seeing both of the brothers in despair. "Imperial Judgement, Execution!"
The wind followed the emperor's strike, erasing the landscape behind Tobi, as a massive fountain of blood, sprayed out of a gaping new cut, diagonally down his chest. He dropped to the floor, dozens of meters from his original position, as he held onto his chest, freezing his wound and convulsing. It was taking everything he could, to not fall unconscious, however eventually, the darkness took over.
"I... I... I won't forgive you!" Osei yelled out furiously, losing it, as Atlas laughed out loud.
Then, he glanced back at him, soaking in the torment, he was putting the prince through. "Don't worry, he won't die. I still need him. I just wanted to make sure he had a good nap." He said, pointing his right hand at Tobi's body, as a coffin of ice, swallowed him and began healing his wound back, slowly.
Osei could not believe, the situation they were in. It felt surreal after everything he had been through. Something deep within him, began to snap, as years of trauma, boiled up to a single point. He lunged, at full speed, striking Atlas' sword, with overbearing might, and pushed him flying back into an area away from Tobi. "You bring disaster with you, everywhere you go. You're existence, is the only one, this galaxy... No, this universe never needed!"
Osei struck down as the emperor hopped to his left, freezing the prince's sword to the ground. Osei managed to break his hands-free and followed up with a high kick to his face.
Atlas bent back, nearly missing the strike, then gave him two quick punches. One to his face, the other in his gut, bursting forth a beam of ice, as it crashed him through several hills.
Osei got up, coughing blood. "Not yet! Thunder Raika!"
Lightning crashed down, meeting an umbrella of ice, that the emperor managed to raise in time, with its hilt redirecting the charge into the ground. "It's over. Just give up. You did your best."
Osei clenched his fists, seething. What must his people be thinking of him? What would his parents do?
He felt as if he had failed them and could no longer take it anymore. "Not yet. As long as I draw breath..."
He placed his hands together, condensing a massive amount of electricity within a small violet sphere, dozens of times over. "Remo Raieqa!" It shattered forth, beaming violently and eating away the landscape on the way, to Atlas.
Atlas raised a finger, as a sphere of ice, held together an unfathomable amount of pressure, causing cracks in the sphere itself. Then, he launched it towards Osei's incoming attack. "Wind Sovereign!"
The shockwave, followed by a razor blast of wind, dispersed his beam in half and dissipated it as it crashed into Osei's chest, knocking him off of his feet, and crashing him through the terrain. Osei was having a hard time, keeping his eyes open. He felt bruises and fractures in multiple parts of his body. "I've failed." A tear fell down his cheek, as his regrets ate him up.
"No, my son." His eyes glanced to his left, as he raised his head. It was as if he was daydreaming, with illusions blending in with reality.
"Mom?" He asked, unbelieving of what he was seeing.
She smiled while keeping her hands above his chest, healing him, as someone else knelt to his right and spoke. "We failed you."
He glanced at the face of a very familiar man. One wearing a crown, with a remorseful and saddened expression. "Dad? But how?"
His memory took him back to the explanations, the Novas and Tobi gave of the ethereal plane. However other than Tobi, the others had only seen one or a few Rennayans each.
Zenu shook his head. "We should have been certain of you and your brother's safety, from the very beginning. The life you've had to go through. I can never forgive myself for that."
Safiyah was fighting back tears, but she took over. "We are so sorry. Will you forgive us?"
Osei, laughed, with tears escaping his eyes. "I've never blamed you for anything. I wish things never went the way they did. You were the greatest parents. My only regret is not having enough strength to restore Rennaya myself."
He covered his eyes. "I'm sorry father, I'm no prince. I've failed to keep my brother safe and I've failed to bring justice for our people."
Zenu smiled. "If we can be forgiven, then you can too. Come on, get up."
Osei pondered about what he meant, but as he got up, slowly, his eyes grew wide. Standing around them, with Waio in front, were hundreds of millions, if not a billion people.
Safiyah spoke up. "My little Osei, no one blames you for anything, you've far exceeded what was expected of you and gave hope to the galaxy once more. You have done your part. Let us help you, with what you want to do. However, I would advise you to take your brother and escape immediately."
Osei was a little dumbfounded to be once again, seeing so many of his people. It was a little difficult for him to speak. "Thank... You."
He shook his thoughts away, remembering his mission. Then he reached his hand out, as his sword, flew back into his palm, hilt first. "I have to keep my little brother safe. My people, I ask of you, please lend me your strength."
They all began to kneel and punch the ground, as their fists broke through into a deep abyss of darkness. Each of their eyes, began to glow, like a domino effect. They all smiled and spoke together. "Yes, Your Highness."
Osei was stunned, as multiple branches of energy began, opening up, within his body.
Waio spoke up. "Do not be alarmed, my pupil. Of course, you're affinity is high with your people. All of Rennaya once celebrated your birth as a sign of hope, prosperity, and good times to come."
Seeing Waio again, made it hard for him to keep his composure. He continued to look around, remembering all of the faces, of people he used to know, as his parents placed their hands on his shoulders, then spoke in unison. "Whatever you do from now on just know, that we are proud of you and we will always love you, no matter what."
He nodded, as his tears dried up, along with them all disappearing, as Atlas broke the silence. "I was waiting back there, expecting you to come back up. You know, with how you couldn't forgive me and whatnot, but instead I find you bawling your eyes out here. What's the matter with you?"
Osei wiped his eyes, then swung his sword to his side, and released all of the built-up energy he had gathered. A skull with markings similar to Tobi's manifested over his face, then crumbled apart, as his eyes, glowed bright blue, with purple and black veins, coursing through his body, pulsing in intervals. His hair flashed full silver, then settled, mixing evenly with the rest of his jet-black hair.
Mist escaped his mouth, with each breath he took, as rings of fire crushed the ground, followed by tremors and thousands of lightning strikes. He had reached his peak.
"Sorry for the wait. I'm alright now. Let's settle this." He spoke calmly, as the tension, rose between them. They stared each other down with pure malice. Yet the emperor could not help noticing, the phenomenon occurring around him.
He laughed, realizing what was happening. "It would seem, the reports were true. The suits that have been granting your human allies, abilities, can also bring about miracles near death. It was tragic what happened on Valtorin, but it was a truly valuable experience. Luckily our drone captured everything, but to be witnessing it myself here... I'm getting even more excited."
Osei, cracked his neck, then crouched, charging up electricity, as his sword caught fire. Then he struck vertically, ripping apart the ground between them, as the aerial strike jetted with at an incredible speed.
Atlas was surprised by Osei's growth. Forcing him to shift into second gear, as he raised a steel wall out of the ground. Which forced him to drop Tobi out of his chamber and woke him up, as he wondered where his brother went.
Atlas drew his sword, coating it in fire. "I raised you. Yet, you dare stand against me!"
Osei laughed out loud. "Every living moment under you was hell. You're just a robot, gone wrong. It's time for you to get tossed to the junkyard."
The emperor glared at him, a vein nearly bursting out, on his temple. "I see, you're prepared to die."
They lunged at each other, bringing absolute devastation to their surroundings, as both of them aimed for the kill. Osei broke the deadlock, jumping back, then pointed a palm at the ground, as it started to rise. "Doteko Ohoni."
A gigantic replica of him rose out of the ground, with its inner body fueled by lava and its outer covered in titanium, diamonds, & other gems. In its hand, a sword the size of a building maintained violent, violet flames coated over it, as lightning continuously struck it.
Atlas's eyes grew wide, then he turned around, to retreat in the opposite direction while preparing a condensed sphere of lava. However, the giant lunged after him and swung vertically with precision, before he could escape.
The emperor spun around just in time, thrusting the sphere at the giant's sword, to mitigate some of the force as he was sent flying across the country. He tried regaining mobility, midflight, but the winds were too much, that's when he saw a looming shadow, covering the sky, and beginning to descend.
Atlas immediately threw his hands into the air, trying to launch anything to protect himself on time. However violet lightning struck the giant, aiding his descent down even faster and leaving a devastating impact on the face of the planet.
Osei hovered over, feeling the emperor's life force, still burning strong below. "You don't deserve any mercy!" He yelled out, knowing he could still hear him, then raised his right hand to the sky. It began to rain and then seconds later, the rain clumped together while freezing into sparrows, charged with electricity.
He watched as the remains of the giant was split in half, by a beam of lava. As it broke apart, he didn't hesitate and dropped his hand. "Kraman Armada!"
Millions of sparrows crashed down onto the emperor, cutting him up, and bombarding him with intense stings and surges. Then, froze him in a massive iceberg of birds, shocking him nonstop with tens of billions of volts.
Osei crouched down and gathered all of his energy to the edge of his blade, then burned it hotter than ever, with fire & electricity, as dark clouds supplied him with an endless capacity. He frosted his hands over to protect himself from the heat, as a superheated coat of magma pulled itself together over his blade, adding to the firepower.
He thought of everyone he needed to do this for and sealed his resolve. "Let's finish this."
Atlas was trapped, defenceless as he tried to melt himself free. Regardless of anything he could have done, it would have been too late, as Osei shot out of the sky, like lightning.
"Raieqa Omega!" He yelled before he cut through the ice and Atlas at the same time. Wiping out the entire landscape around and behind Atlas, as he whizzed past, sheathing his sword.
He turned around cursing, as multiple side effects started to take effect on his body, disorientating him, as he watched Atlas stitch back the half of his body that had nearly been cut clean. "I missed." He whispered to himself.
Atlas noticed, that several of his circuits were not working the same, since his core was nicked. He glared at Osei, with a deadly look. "You've gone too far!"
Osei smirked, knowing he struck a nerve. "I could say the same for you!" He heaved, trying to catch his breath. 'Hold on Osei, just one more.' He told himself, as he gathered up the last of his energy within him and formed a stance.
Atlas looked down at the ground, as his anger boiled over the top. All five of the elements began to rampage all around them, simultaneously. Disappearing as each one laid waste to the environment. His hair began to flash silver, as earthquakes raged the continent.
Osei's eyes grew wide, as he noticed the emperor's energy skyrocketing.
His eyes went white, then slotted back to a glowing bloodshot red. New pressure emanated from him, making the air, seem heavier to breathe. As he spoke, his voice sent chills down Osei's spine. "It's time to end this."
Osei, clenched his teeth, leaping at lightning speed. "Raieqa Omega!"
His sword, this time, collided with Atlas's, but the force of the emperor swinging back, sent him flying back over half a kilometre. Osei dropped his sword, unable to hold onto it, as he skidded, crashing across a field. He quickly got up, putting all of the energy he could muster into a condensed violet flaming sphere, charging it with electricity, and spinning around a core of magma.
Frost covered his hands, as the heat of its orbit, began cutting into his palms. He thrust it forth, just in time as the emperor landed in front of him. "Seiaqa Ultimate!"
Atlas smirked as he raised his hand at the incoming blast. Then it began to split around him as it seemingly struck an invisible barrier in front of it. Visible only as it began to crack.
Osei staggered, letting up in disbelief that it had done nothing to the emperor. He watched as Atlas raised a finger toward him, with a disappointed, yet saddened expression. "You were a good warrior. You just didn't know, who you were up against." He spoke calmly, as the sky seemed to go dark, raining with occasional rings of thunder, while he darted his finger in five thrusts at Osei's body. "Particle Decimation."
Tobi had just arrived. Just in time, to watch his brother drop to the floor.
Notes:
Raika means bolt in Rennayan.
Remo means concentrated in Rennayan.
Raieqa means shock or volt in Rennayan.
Saieqa Ultimate is ultimate lightning in Rennayan.
Kraman and Doteko Ohoni (Stone King, possibility) were taken from the Ghanian language and used as part of the Rennayan, but I may have misplaced the translations.
Previous First Chapter Next

This story was inspired by the following prompt: https://www.reddit.com/humansarespaceorcs/comments/1cqvbwk/humans_are_known_for_building_veryvery_large/
General Kim was awakened from a sound slumber by klaxons. Years of military training kicked in and he was out of bed in record time. Checking the data pad briefly while pulling on his uniform he saw something terrifying.
“Attack in progress. Launch in 10:34.”
An attack? Who? Where? How? What kind? General Kim was soon out the door to his quarters. He was at his battle bridge before the launch countdown had reached 10:00. Similar scenes were playing out throughout the ship, as generals checked in with their battle bridge statuses.
In the ship’s primary bridge, two kilometers from General Kim, Admiral Sol looked at her command display with satisfaction. 100% readiness in less than two minutes. She was pleased. She addressed the 10,000 soul the crew over the PA system. “An allied colony is under attack by enemies unknown. Wormhole travel will take approximately twenty minutes and thirty-four seconds. Prepare for battle.”
General Kim scrolled through the scant field assessment data. There wasn’t much. A large multi-species colony was being bombarded from orbit. No signs of enemy ground forces. The primary wormhole comms array was out, but an old Subspace system was still functional after 120 years of dormancy. “And THAT,” said General Kim, “is what preventative maintenance is for.”
“General, sir?”
“Sorry. Just thinking out loud. Their W23 system is down but they’re still in touch using an SB-Class 3.”
“I think I’ve seen one of those in a museum!”
“Our grandparents saw them in museums. You make do on the rim.”
Launch and wormhole transit went off with clockwork precision. Soon, the ship exited its artificial wormhole. It was immediately bombarded by the unknown hostiles. Explosions of varying kinds went off on the ship’s hull, ripping gashes in her armor.
“Damage report?” Admiral Sol asked.
“Ablative armor at 97%. No other damage reports.”
“Excellent. Inform me when the preliminary weapons analysis is in.”
Meanwhile, the Admiral's counterpart in the invading fleet, Imperial Agent Skrald, was still screaming, “What is that THING?”
“I’ve seen moons smaller than that ship,” said one of his lieutenants.
“We have to have a record of it. You can’t build something that big in complete secrecy!”
“Imperial Agent Skrald, I think it’s the, “Blade of Scoth.”
“That ship’s an old myth! It can’t possibly-“
“We've carved a notch!”
“Send the biggest we’ve got,” the Skrald replied.
A “notch” was a divot in the ship’s hull of the right shape to prevent weapons files from glancing off the armor.
“We’re being hailed, sir!”
“Tell them we don’t talk to burnt food and end the transmission,” the Admiral replied.
Imperial Agent Skrald watched with glee as the missile made contact with the notch and detonated.
On her ship, Admiral Sol asked for another damage report.
“Lower-port ablative armor section 374 at 40%, pinata layer is fully exposed.
“Can it take another direct hit?”
“It was only a gigaton blast. One more should make a perfect crack.”
“Excellent. Order the candy away from the blast point just to be safe.”
“Already done ma'am.”
“Make a note to find out who gave that order so I can commend them on their quick-thinking.”
“Yes Admiral.”
While the invading fleet pivoted their attention to the new ship, a second Terran vessel, the “Rule of Two Rogers” exited its artificial wormhole on the far side of the planet. A swarm of smaller craft flowed from the ship into the atmosphere below.
Imperial Agent Skrald, ignorant of the “Rule of Two Rogers,” was shouting with excitement. “Hit it again! Fire another!” The second missile flew through space, connecting with the underlayer exposed by the last missile. At first, it looked like the ship was spewing out debris, but the debris started flying in formations and shooting at his ships.
On the human ship, the Admiral smiled with satisfaction as she heard the report, “Piñata 86 has been breached. The candy is flowing. I repeat, the candy is flowing.”
“All stations, fire at will,” she replied.
The eyes of Imperial Agent Skrald opened wide as the surface of the massive ship lit up with a multicolored array of missiles, lasers, torpedos, and something that seemed to fire AFTER destroying one of his ships.
“It’s a rainbow of death,” he said, shocked into immobility by the way his fleet was being erased. He came back to his senses when his ship was rocked by debris impact from his erstwhile fleet.
“It’s too big to land!” He yelled. “All ships to the surface! I repeat, all ships retreat to the surface!”
The debris tore off one of his ship’s nacelles. “Did we need that to land?” He yelled.
“Only to get home sir,” an officer replied.
“Good.”
Admiral Sol watched the battle with satisfaction. This was the Blade of Scoth’s first battle in over 100 years. As a descendant of the famous Ambasador Sol, she took her guardianship of the BoS very seriously. A report came up on her screen. The hostiles had been identified. It was one of the Naga Imperium factions, or they were at least using the faction’s ships, weapons and known tactics. “Bastards,” she muttered.
“Admiral?” Lieutenant Cutter said.
“Analysis says it’s the ‘Naga Imperium of the Bone.’ The colony's 20% Naga. They’re slaughtering their own. Have we established direct contact with the colony yet?”
“Not yet Admiral. They don’t seem to have any short-range communications working. We’re still limited to what’s coming over their old subspace system.”
On the planet below, Sally McCool, a Naga hatched and raised in the colony, like her parents and grandparents before her, looked to the night sky. The missiles had come down, glowing brightly as the stars before they impacted. Now, the bright glowing objects had become larger, but many were breaking up and vanishing into nothing. Were these larger bombs, or was the enemy tumbling out of space?
She watched with growing horror as one approached the ground near the south okra field. She took a deep breath, and braced herself to be vaporized by whatever was about to land. Unable to watch, she curled into a ball on the ground, hoping death would be quick. She expected a nuclear flash, obliteration before hearing the blast. Instead, she heard a massive crash, crumpling metal and exploding components, and a long grinding sound as something huge cut into the soil. A rain of stones and soil covered her.
Sally looked up, and took several seconds to process what she was seeing. It hadn’t been a bomb. It had been a ship, and it had just crashed into one of their fields, carving a huge channel as it ground to a halt. A cloud of smoke was rising. Suddenly, a disk-shaped ship shot through the cloud of smoke. She recognized it from her history classes and old war movies. A flying saucer, painted with concentric circles of red, white, and blue. It was a Steve. A Steve class fighter. They were special. Why were they special?
Another saucer flew overhead. This one was red and yellow.
Sally remembered why the Steve battle saucers were special. They were exclusive to a ship called “The Rule of two Rogers.” The Steves were for battle, and this red and gold ship, as it landed she remembered, “It’s a Fred!” She yelled. She waved her arms, calling out to the ship. “We have injured! We have injured!” The side of the saucer opened up, and a multi-species crew of medics poured out.
While medics swarmed the colony providing aid, the best day of Skrald’s life had turned into the worst in a matter of minutes. He looked around his battered bridge. Even the emergency lighting could only manage flickering glimpses of the sparking wreckage around him. The only functional display was informing him the sewage system had ruptured and was pouring into what remained of the ventilation system.
“Is anyone else alive?”
“I TOLD you it was the Blade of Scoth you idiot!”
Skrald straightened his posture as much as the sharp pains in his abdomen would allow. “How DARE you speak to a member of the Imperium that way! I’ll eat you myself for that!”
“Good luck with that. I’m surrendering to the colony.”
“THEY’LL EAT YOUR FLESH AND MAKE SHOES FROM YOUR HIDE!”
“How’s that any better than you eating me?”
Outraged at the insolence, Skrald lunged in the direction of the taunting underling, smashing his snout against a hunk of metal he hadn’t noticed in the dim, flickering light.
Hours later, sunrise came to the battered colony. Most of the fires in the colony proper had been put out, but some of the Naga wreckage was still burning bright. Emergency contamination domes had been put up over the upwind wrecks, to contain as much of the toxic smoke as possible.
General Kim was on the ground, commanding the cleanup crews from both ships. He’d taken a brief break from those responsibilities to speak to one of the captured Naga.
“The guy in the fanciest duds tried to eat you when we took you into custody. Why?”
“I used to be a pilot,” she said. “Until that moron weaseled himself into enough power to do THIS!” She opened up her arms, as if to gesture at everything around her. “The only reason I’m even here is because I objected to this madness. That royal waste of scales wanted to personally mock me when he won. He even put that in writing on the paperwork for my ‘Away Without Leave’ warrant.”
“Weren’t you on his bridge?”
“Yes. You look confused, or at least that’s what my translator is telling me about your expression.”
“I don’t have a lot of combat experience. Nobody does these days, but hand-picking someone for your bridge crew because they have no confidence in you sounds like a bad idea to me.”
“This whole mission was nothing but bad ideas.”
“Please, tell me more.”
Meanwhile, in the darkness of space, a third ship of Capybara / Human design moved silent and unseen. Complex sensor arrays had been tracing the path the invaders had taken, seeking their origin. Data flowed in on interstellar communications problems, often evidence of ships passing though communications tunnels. The Starship Peggy Carter and her crew were on the trail, and the ship had a reputation to uphold. Latin mottos had fallen out of favor decades before she was built, so her motto was written in English.
“Those we fail to defend, we will avenge.”

I am a slightly overweight 40 y.o. man (230 lbs; 6 foot tall / 104kg; 182cm) who takes blood pressure meds and is halfway through a 3-month course of daily topiramate and 37.5mg phentermine for weight loss. I have had a handful of cavities and one implant. I have no other health issues.
A week and a half ago, on 5/2, I had temporary crowns put in on two lower left teeth. Dentist said "it's pretty close to the nerve" but the procedure "went as well as it could have gone". Anesthesia wore off and honestly my mouth felt fine; I chew mostly soft foods and mostly on my right side. I go back on 5/28 for permanent crowns.
Starting yesterday, on 5/13, after eating some ice cream cake, my chin and lips have waves of feeling numb. Also I have occasional very dull tooth pain in my lower middle teeth. I am also having trouble opening my mouth/jaw wide (it hurts if I yawn too big).
I am flying out for business and won't be back until Saturday. Any thoughts?

First
Previous
Sorry for the delay in getting this part out; been away visiting family so not had much time to put fingers to keyboard, plus I managed to have my phone eaten by a roller coaster and it took a while to get it replaced and be able to get into a few things - stupid two factor authentication! Anyway, I hope you enjoy.
+++++++++++++++++++
Y’Lek and K’Rim slowed their mad dash as they neared the armoury; there was no telling whether the Swarm agents had left any traps for them and the armoury was full of extremely energy dense materials and weapons which could potentially jeopardise the structure of the ship if employed in the right way. Grabbing some handy footholds they stopped and considered the imposing door in front of them.
After a few moments of effort K’Rim had eased off the casement off the door’s locking mechanism but could detect nothing amiss with the crystalline structure beneath. Bypassing the outer interface she placed a grasper to the innards and a small spark of bioelectric energy jumped into the crystal which glowed briefly as the uniquely patterned waveform was parsed and compared with the patterns of those permitted access. The door slid aside as they were granted entry with no unwanted surprises being triggered.
With a relieved chitter Y’Lek started inside only to be pulled back sharply as K’Rim pulled on his leg.
“Stop. Just because the door opens, doesn’t mean that it is safe.” K’Rim warned as she pulled a small disc out of one of her utility pouches. Snapping it easily she gently tossed it through the doorway after slowly counting out a grasper of seconds. The exothermic reaction had reached the point where the disc glowed fitfully in the infrared, while it emitted a clear UV light. K’Rim watched it carefully and her antennae twitched with the effort of picking up any slight sound.
The glow-disc struck some of the lockers which filled the armoury and ricocheted off around the room but nothing seemed to react to the heat and movement.
With a decisive clack of her mandibles K’Rim pulled herself through the doorway and into the armoury. Y’Lek followed close on her tarsus. It was immediately obvious that several sets of warrior equipment had been removed, along with copious numbers of weapons.
Y’Lek was surprised when K’Rim didn’t make for the remaining warrior gear but instead to the emergency pressure suits. Seeing the confused tilt of his head K’Rim explained “Although the room appears safe, we don’t know what they may have done while they were here but it is safe to assume that they would have ensured any of the most dangerous equipment could not be used against them.”
She passed a bundled pressure suit to Y’Lek and continued “The emergency gear and non-powered weapons are the least likely to have been tampered with and have the least amount of capacity for harming us even if they have been so we will have to make do with them until we can thoroughly check the rest of the equipment.”
Y’Lek thought for a moment before bobbing in agreement and starting to pull on the pressure suit, careful to sheath his claws with the hardened “gauntlets” integral to the suit before powering up the spiracle gas exchangers and carefully sealing them in place against his thorax. “Yes, I can see the risk now. Though it will potentially leave us vulnerable, it is better to be certain of our equipment than to die of over confidence.”
The emergency pressure suit came together quickly, living up to its name and the pair were quickly sealed against the cold, dry, and slightly strange tasting air that the aliens had been pumping into the Far Flung Seed and supplying them with a more familiar and moister mixture.
K’Rim passed him a set of the ceremonial but still functional weapons and the harness to hold them. They wouldn’t hold up long against a fusion blade or a particle lance but they were durable enough to give them a chance and were completely inert so could not have been sabotaged.
Only a couple of minutes after entering the armoury they swam back out into the corridor and sped off towards the arboretum.
+++++++++++++++++++
Smithy quickly sprayed a fluorescent marking on the uneven and root covered tunnel junction to identify which way they had come from. “How can such a small ship have so many damn tunnels?” he growled to himself.
“It’s not the size of the ship, it’s what you do with it that matters” quipped Hall.
“Yeah? Well, apparently in this case it was fill it with bloody tunnels.” deadpanned Smithy in response.
“Can it.” broke in Stroud before anyone else could get involved “You can discuss the relative merits of alien design philosophy on your own time; for now you need to focus.”
A chorus of “Sergeant” came back over the radio and the remainder of Delta and Echo buckled down and continued sweeping what even Stroud was prepared to admit was a seemingly endless series of tunnels with apparently zero overarching logic to their layout. Up until a few minutes ago they had been getting directional updates from some supposedly friendly ET’s in the control room but apparently they had suddenly just buggered off so now they were picking junctions that appeared to take them in the vague direction that had been indicated to them.
Stroud again cursed the fact that the maintenance drones brought by the initial engineering team hadn't been able to access this part of the ship and map it due to the tightly sealed blast doors that had protected the forest from the vacuum. Who could have imagined that there would have been so much structure hidden underneath and between the normal corridors and rooms? The three dimensional map they had been creating as they advanced was like something Jackson Pollock and H R Giger might have come up with on an acid trip.
They approached another intersection and slowed. After a quick glance between them, Mears and Jackson moved forward, taking cover behind Mears’ shield. They crept up to the junction and Jackson poked the muzzle of his shotgun, and its camera into the ragged space beyond. The feed showed several small tunnels radiating off at all angles, way too small for any of them to fit down. One navigable tunnel appeared to curve off back in the direction they came from, while another looked like it might go the right way.
Suddenly the camera and the end third of Jackson’s gun disintegrated into a cloud of superheated vapour, shards of glowing metal and smoking composites. With a scream Jackson jumped back, the outer weave on the gauntlet of his left hand shredded and smouldering. In a stunning display of muscle memory he ejected the internal magazine and disconnected the weapon from the backpack feed almost before his mind had caught up with what was going on.
Hands grabbed him as he was yanked further back into the corridor. He flung the remains of his shotgun down and it clattered and bounced down the tunnel in the vague direction of the junction. Jackson was conscious of Mears backing up towards him, shield held protectively to block as much of the tunnel as possible, while Smithy grabbed his forearm and inspected his hand. Stroud stepped over him and took up guard on Mears’ shoulder, weapon trained forward and sweeping what could be seen of the slightly larger space beyond this section of the tunnel.
Another “FOOOM!” as the tumbling wreckage of the shotgun was vaporised as it spun across the opening of the tunnel.
“Fuuuuuuuck me!” said Jackson, at last able to form words as the adrenaline induced tunnel vision started to clear.
“Well, how about you start by showing me whether you can still use your fingers and we can take it from there, eh?” Smithy said from where he was turning his hand from prone to supine again. “Looks like the inner layer of your glove is intact but both Simmonds and Jones complained of numbness after being hit. How’re you feeling?”
Jackson gingerly flexed his fingers and made a fist a few times but grunted as he felt the tips of his fingers tingle where they pressed into the material of his gloves “Feels weird - tingly like I sat on my hand or something.”
Smithy grunted to acknowledge this “OK, well shout out if it gets any worse; got it?”
He pulled Jackson to his feet and slapped him on the shoulder before they both turned back to face down the tunnel again. Jackson surreptitiously flexed his hand a few more times as he pulled out his sidearm and secured its retaining strap to his right wrist. He wasn’t too hopeful that the small pistol would be able to do too much against the ET’s, but it was better than walking around with nothing.
Stroud backed away from the junction where he had been very gingerly checking all the passageways with a camera barely poking out from the mouth of the tunnel they were in.
He stood up and turned to the security team “Ok, looks like there is something stuffed into one of the narrow tunnels - kind of like those shoulder guns the ET’s have, along with a stand and power supply. My guess is it has some kind of automated fire mode and decided that it really didn’t like Jackson’s gun waving around in front of it. Question is, how are we going to get rid of it? We can’t leave it behind in case we need to come back this way in a hurry.”
“I guess it will probably shoot anything we throw at it so grenades are out?” mused Mears
There followed a number of suggestions and comments.
“Can we get an angle on it and just shoot it?”
“How about we let Jackson distract it some more while the rest of us blow it away?”
“We need to avoid the power pack if the two dead ET’s from the corridor are anything to go by.”
Stroud listened for a minute before cutting the chatter short. “Ok, so I think our best bet is to use the ballistic shield to bait it, while someone else blows the top off it from the other side of the tunnel; Mears you and Jackson handle the shield; keep a tight hold on it as those shots release a lot of energy when they hit. Smithy - I’ve marked its location so you hug the other side of the tunnel and draw a bead on it. Wait for it to hit the shield before popping out and taking your shot; and for the love of all that you hold dear do it fast, Ok?”
The team nodded in agreement.
“I will be there to pull Smithy back as soon as he has popped out of cover, just in case.” concluded Stroud before ushering them to their positions. After a few moments of shuffling around each other in the tight space they were ready.
Smithy led the countdown. “Ready. Steady. Go!” Instantly Mears and Jackson shoved a third of the ballistic shield out into the corridor and planted themselves on top of the section remaining in the corridor only a moment ahead of a bright flash and the shield heaving under the impact.
Seemingly almost simultaneously Smithy leaned out and fired, the boom of his shotgun mingling with the “foom!” of the vaporising surface of the shield. Stroud almost bodily lifted him as he pulled him back from the edge.
For a second they were still as they sprawled around the opening.
“A good hit!” called Stroud as he reviewed the few frames of footage from Smithy’s gun camera between jumping out and back in again.
Mears stood up and inspected the sorry remains of his ballistic shield, now missing most of the top edge. “Great, well I hope there aren’t too many more of those hidden around as I’m running out of shield.”
+++++++++++++++++++
N’Dar’s antennae quivered inside his protective suit. That last series of weapons fire had been far too close for comfort and he still had two more locking systems to bypass. With a furious click of his mandibles he redoubled his efforts, running his bioelectric patterns through a series of filters, amplifiers and other signal processing systems to trick the door into thinking he had a right to open it.
The rot take the claw that had been delaying the aliens! He was supposed to have more time than this!
Next

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.