Something in Scarlet and Violet irked me about getting the legendaries in the games. I'm not a fan of how there's 25 legendary Pokemon in Paldea that are just.... Sitting there. Waiting for you to show up and catch them. It makes it feel like they're just collectibles rather than rare, powerful Pokemon of legend. I get that in prior games, it made sense for them to just be sitting in one location, as it's difficult to make a lot happen with such small 2D sprites, but even the roaming Pokemon had an air of mystique around them, as there was always a moment of "holy shit!" Every time one showed up.
I'm not saying they should all be roaming the entirety of Paldea, but I wish they were doing something. Imagine you are looking for Suicune on the lake and rather than just standing there on the shore, he's skipping across the surface and you have to catch up to him, kinda like the Galarian Zapdos.
Or if they had little side-quests, like maybe Rayquaza is actually circling way above the crater, higher than you can reach, so you have to find a way to get his attention. Maybe you have to catch Kyogre or Groudon first and take them out of their ball nearby so he comes down to challenge you. I'm not saying it needs to be some super complex thing or have some story behind it, but anything would be better than them just.... Sitting there.
And I feel if they were willing to put in more effort, they could make it even like Legends: Arceus where each legendary and mythical Pokemon had a cut-scene like Darkrai's before the little challenge of their encounter could begin. I could easily see you arriving to the location where Latias is supposed to be when a cut-scene starts. You're looking around for her and she comes up right behind you, moving to avert your gaze until you turn around. You lock eyes, she does a cheeky little animation before dashing off for you to go after her. Something simple, short and sweet, but adds some character to the encounter.
I feel like they did a great job creating the sort of feel I'm looking for with the Bloodmoon Beast. Legendary Pokemon are a big deal, but they just don't feel much like it when there's 25 of them that don't have anything to do until you show up to capture them. I'd just like if important moments felt more important.

Who is Tristan Da Silva?
Tristan Da Silva is a 6'9" tweener forward coming off a standout senior year at Colorado. Known for his versatile offensive skills akin to Kyle Kuzma, Tristan is this year's "Most Likely to Be Jaime Jaquez Jr." winner. He's set to immediately contribute as a valuable role player in the NBA.
Da Silva is intelligent, adaptable, and performs well both on and off the ball. His ability to thrive as a #3 or #4 scoring option—spotting up from three, attacking closeouts, and exploiting mismatches—makes him a potent offensive threat. Yet, questions linger about his transition to the NBA due to his athletic, strength, and length limitations. In college he was a solid defender but due to his physical limitations his defense is a big question mark for me.
NBA Fit:
I'm all in on players who bring versatility and a high basketball IQ to the table. Da Silva fits this mold perfectly as a high-floor, low-ceiling prospect likely to excel as either a starter or a key bench player, depending on the team's needs. Ideally, he should be paired with a strong, versatile forward or a defensive anchor to compensate for his limitations.
Da Silva is on my short list of players I would love for the Raptors to draft at #19. His fit next to Scottie and Co. is arguably the best out of the available prospects when we will be selecting. Furthermore, Da Silva is ready to contribute today and fits the BBQ timeline. If he can become the high end role player that I think he can be he would be a perfect forward to pair with Scottie.
Strengths:

• Versatile offensive player
• Smart player
• Makes good cuts
• Uses his size on mismatches
• Has some 3-level scoring potential with step back middys off the dribble
• Has a little back to the basket game with short hooks when guarded by smaller defenders
• Not afraid to shoot the ball
• Capable of creating his own offense
• He was the guy at Colorado
• Is a smart and willing passer
• Has a nice turnaround jumper
• Shows ability to create offense off of screens
• Good shooter
• Knows how to get open with off ball movement
• Has projectable NBA role as a versatile scoring forward able to play off ball and provide on ball creation in a pinch.
• Can go coast-to-coast off rebounds
• Not afraid to take big shots
• Good hands on defense
• Smart team defender
• Has a high motor on defense. Willing to do the little things.
• Can protect the rim in a pinch as a help defender

Weaknesses:

• Not very athletic
• Not very long
• Will his lack of athleticism limit his ability to create his offense
• Needs to get stronger if he is going to be a PF/SF
• He is the definition of a tweener. He is not athletic enough to be a wing but he is not strong enough and lacks the frame for an NBA power forward
• Will he be able to get all the way to the hole in the NBA?
• Seemed to struggle when guarded by larger defenders where he isn’t able to leverage his size
• Will his defense transfer in the NBA?
• Questions about his lateral quickness when switched onto quick wings and guards
• Questions about his strength when asked to guard true power forwards
• He will most likely never be a good rebounder

Stats and Analytics:
Here are Tristan Da Silva’s senior year stats and advanced stats at Colorado:
Senior Year Stats:

• GP/GS: 34/34
• Minutes: 33.8
• FG%: 49.3
• 3PT%: 39.5 on 4.8 3PA
• FT%: 83.5
• Rebounds: 5.1
• Assists: 2.4
• Steals: 1.1
• Blocks: 0.6
• Points: 16.0

Advanced Stats (Senior Year):

• PER: 19.8
• Offensive BPM: 5.0
• Defensive BPM: 2.1
• Overall BPM: 7.1
• Usage Rate: 22.5%
• True Shooting %: 60.6%
  
• Isolation & Driving: Only 3.6% of possessions in isolation and drove 8.4% of the time, highlighting limited on-ball activity.
  
• Spot-Up Shooting:
  
  • Ranks in the 94th percentile for spot-up scoring with 1.237 points per possession (PPP) this season.
  • 82nd percentile in shooting off the catch with 1.19 PPP.
  • Shot 40.3% from three overall, increasing to 48.1% when unguarded.
• Historical Performance:
  
  • Last season, scored 1.11 PPP in spot-up situations (84th percentile) and 1.21 PPP shooting off the catch (85th percentile).
  • Shot 39.6% from three last season.

NBA Comparison:
Tristan shows elements of both Kyle Kuzma and Jaime Jaquez Jr. in his style of play, offering a promising outlook for his NBA career.
Game Tape:
For a closer look at Da Silva’s playing style and skills, check out his game tape here.
What are your thoughts on Tristan's fit in the NBA? Let's discuss!

Who is Tristan Da Silva?
Tristan Da Silva is a 6'9" tweener forward coming off a standout senior year at Colorado. Known for his versatile offensive skills akin to Kyle Kuzma, Tristan is this year's "Most Likely to Be Jaime Jaquez Jr." winner. He's set to immediately contribute as a valuable role player in the NBA.
Da Silva is intelligent, adaptable, and performs well both on and off the ball. His ability to thrive as a #3 or #4 scoring option—spotting up from three, attacking closeouts, and exploiting mismatches—makes him a potent offensive threat. Yet, questions linger about his transition to the NBA due to his athletic, strength, and length limitations. In college he was a solid defender but due to his physical limitations his defense is a big question mark for me.
NBA Fit:
I'm all in on players who bring versatility and a high basketball IQ to the table. Da Silva fits this mold perfectly as a high-floor, low-ceiling prospect likely to excel as either a starter or a key bench player, depending on the team's needs. Ideally, he should be paired with a strong, versatile forward or a defensive anchor to compensate for his limitations.
Strengths:

• Versatile offensive player
• Smart player
• Makes good cuts
• Uses his size on mismatches
• Has some 3-level scoring potential with step back middys off the dribble
• Has a little back to the basket game with short hooks when guarded by smaller defenders
• Not afraid to shoot the ball
• Capable of creating his own offense
• He was the guy at Colorado
• Is a smart and willing passer
• Has a nice turnaround jumper
• Shows ability to create offense off of screens
• Good shooter
• Knows how to get open with off ball movement
• Has projectable NBA role as a versatile scoring forward able to play off ball and provide on ball creation in a pinch.
• Can go coast-to-coast off rebounds
• Not afraid to take big shots
• Good hands on defense
• Smart team defender
• Has a high motor on defense. Willing to do the little things.
• Can protect the rim in a pinch as a help defender

Weaknesses:

• Not very athletic
• Not very long
• Will his lack of athleticism limit his ability to create his offense
• Needs to get stronger if he is going to be a PF/SF
• He is the definition of a tweener. He is not athletic enough to be a wing but he is not strong enough and lacks the frame for an NBA power forward
• Will he be able to get all the way to the hole in the NBA?
• Seemed to struggle when guarded by larger defenders where he isn’t able to leverage his size
• Will his defense transfer in the NBA?
• Questions about his lateral quickness when switched onto quick wings and guards
• Questions about his strength when asked to guard true power forwards
• He will most likely never be a good rebounder

Stats and Analytics:
Here are Tristan Da Silva’s senior year stats and advanced stats at Colorado:
Senior Year Stats:

• GP/GS: 34/34
• Minutes: 33.8
• FG%: 49.3
• 3PT%: 39.5 on 4.8 3PA
• FT%: 83.5
• Rebounds: 5.1
• Assists: 2.4
• Steals: 1.1
• Blocks: 0.6
• Points: 16.0

Advanced Stats (Senior Year):

• PER: 19.8
• Offensive BPM: 5.0
• Defensive BPM: 2.1
• Overall BPM: 7.1
• Usage Rate: 22.5%
• True Shooting %: 60.6%
  
• Isolation & Driving: Only 3.6% of possessions in isolation and drove 8.4% of the time, highlighting limited on-ball activity.
  
• Spot-Up Shooting:
  
  • Ranks in the 94th percentile for spot-up scoring with 1.237 points per possession (PPP) this season.
  • 82nd percentile in shooting off the catch with 1.19 PPP.
  • Shot 40.3% from three overall, increasing to 48.1% when unguarded.
• Historical Performance:
  
  • Last season, scored 1.11 PPP in spot-up situations (84th percentile) and 1.21 PPP shooting off the catch (85th percentile).
  • Shot 39.6% from three last season.

NBA Comparison:
Tristan shows elements of both Kyle Kuzma and Jaime Jaquez Jr. in his style of play, offering a promising outlook for his NBA career.
Game Tape:
For a closer look at Da Silva’s playing style and skills, check out his game tape here.
What are your thoughts on Tristan's fit in the NBA? Let's discuss!

Reddit Account: u/Thenn_Applicant
Discord Tag: Garin
Name and House: Dorian Merryweather
Age: 49
Cultural Group: Reachman
Appearance: [Dorian's chestnut brown hair has been greying for quite a while, however is short beard retains more color, including a few stray red hairs peppered throughout it. While his features have softened and gained some pudge as he aged past his prime, he remains in overall good shape. This is partly due to his great love of gardening and crop cultivation, which have left his hands and nails rather rough.](Dodin-Bouffant-The-Taste-of-Things-Vest.webp (500×650) (williamjacket.com))
Trait: Numerate
Skills: Avaricious (e), Architect, Administrator, Investor
Talents: Language (High Valyrian) Cooking, Gardening
Negative Trait: N/A
Starting Title: Lord of Longtable
Starting Location: Opening Event
Biography:
It has been said; men grow tired of sleep, love, singing and dancing, sooner than war. As such, it begs the question, what does a man have left when he finally tires of war? In pursuit of an answer, of any answer, one half of Dorian Merryweather’s life was spent. He was the second son of Lord Arthor Merryweather of Longtable. Like many others born in a place of natural abundance, he longed for more, for something greater than a mere provincial estate. The tourneys of Highgarden, the hunts of Horn Hill and the books of Oldtown all called to him, and so he could never ride past his father’s mild and verdant fields fast enough. Dorian counted himself lucky not to be the heir, for that meant he could pick where his future lay, unchained from the uninspiring home of his childhood. Instead it was his older brother, Bennard, who envied his free-flying lifestyle, contriving any excuse to join him on his escapades and agurk lessons and ceremonies he ought to have attended.
Lord Arthor was fairly permissive of this deriliction of duties, as the friendships forced on such journeys were worth more than lessons that could be repeated later, or tasks that could be handed off to lowborn stewards. The boys attended tourneys, balls, hunts and feasts, living the life the bards extolled as the height of reachman’s chivalry. The one time they did not shirk their duties was when their father had the honor of hosting King Mern and his court for a tourney on the Warrior’s day. The Merryweather sons would present the king and his family with silver bowls of dilligrout, a most exquisite stew of capons, white wine and almond milk. They had the joy of tasting it once the Gardeners had their fill, a taste they would never forget. On the tournament field three days later, Mern knighted them both, though Dorian was only sixteen at the time, green as a knight could ever be.
Five years later, as news of Aegon Targaryen and his early conquests spread, the lords of the Reach were summoned to Goldengrove, where they found a veritable forest of Westermen’s banners being planted beside their own. The fall of the Storm Kings had led to a whirlwind of diplomacy between the houses of Gardener and Lannister. The plan was presented to the lords with the two kings sitting beside one another on the dais as though they were brothers. They held up Aegon’s letter of demands, scornfully reading it aloud and then proceeded to tear it up to a roaring acclamation from the hall. Standing there before the hall, Mern could hardly be called the Warrior incarnate. There stood a man well past his prime, old enough to be a grandfather and with no great victories to his name, in battle or on the tourney field. All the same, this man, whom they called their king, always seemed to know exactly what to say to win someone over. If he’d declared war on hell itself that evening, the Merryweather brothers would probably still have marched off with him when the next morning dawned. Bennard and Dorian shouted as loud as anyone, death to the foreign upstart. That evening were betrothed to westerwomen they’d never met before, made plans for a real battle, which they had never fought in before, and drank, ate and sang as though the night would last forever. House Merryweather was not able to secure a command, yet King Mern remembered his stay at Longtable fondly. He gave Bennard and Dorian a place in the vanguard, and even adorned Bennard with a brooch of the order of the green hand the morning before the army Goldengrove, a momentous honor which Bennard would cherish for the remainder of his days. He did not have many left, as it turned out. The Field of Fire began like a dream, as the two brothers rode off at the break of dawn, two out of five thousand sets of gleaming armor atop proud warhorses. By the end of the day it had become a nightmare. Caught up in the maelstrom of battle, Dorian did not see the moment when their loss was assured, but the Gods know he could hear it, the creeping, hungry flames that descended on the reachmen like an army of its own. As hundreds were broiled inside their steel plate and thousands more choked on the inferno’s horrible vanguard of black smoke, Bennard and Dorian broke and fled. They were not far behind the retreating Loren Lannister in their escape, but half a minute made all the difference. The lines of fire fanned out, hunting more living things to devour, and engulfed the two brothers. Dorian could feel how the flames spread from his surcoat to his undershirt, all the way down to the hairs on his chest, beginning to sear his skin. In a desperate act he threw himself in the Blackwater, and would have perished if not for the shoddy work of his squire that morning, which left him able to tear off his plate before he could sink. With bloodied, burn-marked fingers, he clung to the roots of a tree by the riverside, water up to his chest. He was retrieved after some time, how long he could not say. For the next two moons his mind was adrift, distracted from his pains by milk of the poppy. The next two were far worse, as he grew more lucid and realized the extent of the damage. A burn-mark stretched from his right thigh, all the way up his chest and left bicep to the apple of his neck. Many times over, flakes of dead or dying skin had to be peeled off by the maester as the scabs kept bursting with blood and clear liquid. By the end of that year he was able to walk again, though the burn mark would leave a feverish red mark across the front of his body, his new skin settling into twisted lines.
Bennard was far worse for wear, alive yet burned all the way to his face and crippled from a fall off his horse. His nose and ear-lobes had to be cut off, too burned to save, and even his eyelids were permanently scarred, unable to sprout new lashes. The more lucid Bennard became, the deeper his sorrow. Eventually he began refusing food. The new lord of Longtable would not eat anything his cooks set in front of him. In spite of his ever present pains, Dorian began going to the kitchens, reprimanding the cooks for their failings. He knew his brother well and knew his palette, and began ordering them to make his brother’s favorites. When he felt they were making mistakes, he interrupted their work himself. He was a stranger to the kitchen, yet would criticize how things were cut too roughly, spiced too little or too much. He was a terror to the cooks, yet they could not refuse him.
His attempts to intervene were however hampered by a newfound aversion to heat. The sound of the hearth, of boiling and searing, the general sense of warmth around him made him nauseous and caused his movements to seize up. Still, he went to his brother’s bedside every day, and afterwards he forced himself back to the kitchens. His sister, Lydia, tried to stop him at first, but soon found her protes fell on deaf ears, and so joined him, if only to leash him in when he went too far. Finally, there was only one dish they hadn’t tried; the dilligrout they’d once served to the late King Mern. Every time it was made, it came out wrong. It soon turned out the cook who had served them that evening six years ago had since retired, and his exact method had never been recorded or taught to anyone else. Dorian would first invite the man to Longtable, then summon him with armed knights when invitations were refused.
Theomar, the man who appeared before him, was a sorry sight, looking frightened and confused as he was taken to his old workplace. It was explained by his sons that he’d been growing senile even six years ago, often snapping at the kitchen maids under him when his memory failed him. Since then he’d gotten worse, seldom eating, let alone cooking. Something in the old man’s eyes did seem to brighten for a moment when the sounds and smells of his old kitchen surrounded him, and Dorian ordered him to make dilligrout. Before long that faint spark had been drowned out by tears. He would start boiling capon or crushing almonds, only to leave the job half-done whenever he had to fetch something new. Serving maids were put at his disposal to bring him ingredients, yet an ingredient ordered would be met with a reprimand as he seemed to forget which dish he was making every few minutes. Finally Dorian snapped at the man, grabbing him by his collar and shouting accusations of treason against House Merryweather. By the time Lydia could restrain him and try to apologize, the man was a wreck on the floor. After watching it for a while, waiting for the man to get up and continue his work, even Dorian was overcome by pity and shame for what he’d done. The old cook was praying to the gods, begging forgiveness for his failings. Dorian began to realize he’d broken a great man down and would himself beg forgiveness. He offered the man his old cook’s quarters back for the rest of his life, and promised his sons that his maester would tend to the man in his old age, that he would be fed from Longtable’s stores.
At this point, he resolved to make the dilligrout himself. Through it all, Bennard was barely clinging to life, or rather being tethered to it by the will of others. He could only be fed when drugged down by the milk of the poppy, and the more often it was used, the less effective it became. Every day Dorian braved the kitchens, yet he could not recreate the flavor of that wonderful night. It was by the grace of the gods, perhaps with Theomar as their vessel, that Dorian would even come close. The old man could no longer cook, but over time he began to wander into the kitchens and sit down on a chair. At first Dorian thought the man only sought the warmth of the hearth for his weary bones, yet he discovered it to be more than that. Theomar’s eyes were like clouded glass, yet they brightened every now and then, hearing almonds being ground, smelling capons searing in fat, as though it was stirring the kitchenmaster of yore back to life. Eventually Dorian began to walk up to the old cook with his ingredients, bidding him to smell or taste small portions. Sometimes he got simple instructions out of it, ‘too coarse’, ‘too sour’, ‘underdone’. Som times a mere nod or frown was all Theomar managed. Over the course of a couple of days, Dorian put together one final attempt to get the dish made rightWhen he arrived in Bennard’s chamber, he was met with a look which brought forth discomfort that no flame could produce in Dorian. Plainly, raspingly, his brother asked him why he wouldn’t let him die. It was easy, Bennard reasoned. All Dorian needed to do was wait and become lord. The words almost made Dorian throw the dilligrout on the floor. Almost. He placed two bowls on Bennard’s table, the dilligrout and one brimming with milk of the poppy. Dorian told his brother to make his choice. If he sought death, Dorian would let him, but he would not hear that it was an easy thing, watching his brother die. That evening, the milk of the poppy was carried away by the maester, the empty bowl of stew taken to be washed in the kitchens. From then on, Bennard ate what his brother brought him without complaint. He lasted just into the new year, dying on its tenth day. In the predawn gloom of the twelfth, Theomar died in his sleep
Dorian took up his lordly task joylessly. His old wanderlust returned, spurred by the horrible memories that now stained Longtable and the reach itself in his mind. The final straw came when their new Tyrell overlords, insisted on him marrying a lady from a dornish house. His previous betrothal had fallen through, as the parents of his western bride had not wished to draw the ire of the Targaryens by maintaining an old alliance meant to oppose them. Instead of obliging, he boarded a ship from Oldtown going east. It stopped only briefly in Planky Town before going to Tyrosh. Noting him to be a nobleman, a few of the city’s wealthy men would host him for a while, though they quickly lost interest when his lack of knowledge of trade became apparent. After that, he spent time in the markets and squares where the common people lived. His old curiosity was piqued, and he decided to embark on a quest of learning, fashioning himself another Lomas Longstrider. He moved on to Myr, and the experience was much the same in broad strokes, a few rich men showed interest and quickly lost it. As he’d visited the dye markets he went to see the city’s famous artisans at work. One thing was notably different, he met a Tyroshi woman with green-dyed hair, going by the name Maryah. She was a trader, and the two had taken the same ship to Myr. She had been to Myr before and showed him many of its secrets. They spent an entire day in one of the vast delicacy markets so she could show him the many tastes of the city. Having no plans in advance, he asked where she was headed next.
Without a second thought he would join her on a journey to Lys. He soon understood it to be a test. It was not long before she teased him, speculating he’d only joined her for a chance to see the famous pleasure houses. Evening after evening they stayed in the city and Maryah would tease and test him over the matter. Finally he told her he’d renounce his betrothal for her, that there was no one else in his eye. She laughed, replying he would not have to. The next morning, Dorian awoke to find that she was already up, the green washed from her black curls. Maryah had in fact been Joanna Dayne, his dornish bride to be, having traveled the same route as him ever since his ship stopped at Planky Town to refill its food and water. She was already quite familiar with the three closest free cities, having served as a dornish envoy on behalf of its spice traders. As they planned their return to Westeros, Joanna asked him what else in the world he wanted to see. Within a few moons of being wed, they left Westeros, not to return for three years.The journey was what his mind needed, away from the Reach, its knights and tapestries, hunts and tourneys. Ultimately, the lords and knights of his homeland, for all their songs and poetry, lived every day in preparation for war, frivolous though the preparations were. Joanna showed him a different world, the remnants of Old Valyria. War was to be sure inescapable. Wherever they went, there were soldiers, tapestries, contests of arms, and yet the cities housed something else as well, a boundless potential for creation, commerce and growth.
Thanks to Joanna Dayne’s knowledge their stays became far better planned, and they could enjoy the hospitality of wealthy locals far longer. She knew how to talk about the spice trade and similar matters, and Dorian began to pick up on it. On their second stay in Myr, he procured a great deal of fine parchment and began taking notes, everything from negotiation tactics and the prices of cloves or red peppers to court customs, as well as more eclectic pieces of knowledge, details of running an eastern estate, descriptions of technological marvels he had never seen in Westeros, and ingredients in the local food. By the time they neared Qarth he had quite the list of recipes, among other things. There he was even able to learn a few all the way from Yi Ti, as some local cooks catered to merchants from the Golden Empire. On their journey home they’d end up taking the opportunity to see the newly made port of King’s Landing. By that time, a third member had joined their journey, their infant daughter Florys. Having left Longtable in the care of his sister and steward for three years, Dorian finally accepted the responsibility of running his ancestral home.
Longtable was considered to rule over some of the best lands in the Reach, ideally situated along the river with abundant soil which could provide two grain harvests in a year. Having seen the estates which supplied the great cities of the east, Dorian was all too aware of its comparative shortcomings. He found that the abundance of the land had a counterproductive effect, breeding complacency and carelessness. From his grandiose tour of the east, he went on a painstaking tour of his own lands, trying to get an overview of everything he ruled over. He paid the citadel a fee to send him half a dozen maesters in training for a season. These young men, literate and numerate, would serve his own maester in conducting a survey of the land, giving Dorian account of all resources at his disposal as lord. The results were quite varied.
Some peasants were found to have remarkable agricultural insights which they had no way of writing down, entirely reliant on passing the knowledge to their children. Knowing the risks of such a method of transferring knowledge, Dorian ordered such insights recorded. In other places there were farmers and communities who were unwittingly exhausting their soil. Instances of lack of fallow land, excessive grazing by cows and lack of crop rotation were also made note of, followed by edicts against such heedless practices. Septons, sheriffs and tax collectors were given written copies and were obliged to read them to the peasantry wherever it was deemed necessary. It also became part of the obligations of farmers to plant a set amount of clover in their fields and pastures, a practice some had taken up on their own but which had already become a standardized law among the estates belonging to Myr and Volantis. Irrigation was expanded and land inheritance was reformed to prevent the splitting of fields past a certain threshold.
Lord Dorian was not always successful. Some eastern ideas had been useful innovations which improved conditions across the board. In time he learned that the peculiarities of the westerosi system were sometimes necessary for the sake of stability, not merely the misshapen fruits of ignorance. His attempt to enclose part of the common lands proved abortive, as it nearly caused a peasant rebellion. A procession of aggrieved smallfolk headed for Longtable had to be dispersed by knights, armed with wooden clubs to prevent needless bloodshed.Two men were hanged and five sent to the wall, but the reform was thereafter abandoned, leading the populace to calm down. Dorian was not much of a military leader and had not wielded weapons since the Field of Fire. He became aware of his need to bolster his forces, a notion reinforced by the establishment of the Black Roses not long after his return, and again with the Kingswood Catastrophe
In the meantime, he and Joanna raised a family together. Three more daughters would be born healthy, with a couple of miscarriages and a stillbirth in between, also a daughter. Their travels did not entirely come to an end. In 13 AC they would tour the northern free cities of Norvos, Qohor, Pentos, Braavos and Lorath, which they had missed on their original journey. The lion’s share of 17 AC was spent on a journey to the Summer Islands. At other times they would make shorter journeys around the Seven Kingdoms, where they felt more secure in bringing their older children along. Whether it was visiting Joanna’s family in Dorne, tourneys and feasts in the Reach and West or even one trip to see the wall, a nameday wish by Florys, they were often on the move. Like most of their peers, they frequented Oldtown and Highgarden
The growing rift between the two queens and their children was a situation Dorian would watch with dread in his heart, remembering keenly how a generation of young men had been brought to the field of fire. To his mind, the Targaryen rule ought not go to waste. Like Valyria of old, it had begun with fire and blood, yet similarly peace and prosperity had followed in its wake. If only the dragons could stand united, perhaps another long peace like the one the Freehold once enjoyed could again be established. If not, another century of blood was upon them. Under Dorian, Longtable became a place where he sought to bring together people from across the kingdoms and forge unity over the dinner table, an attitude which somewhat vexed and confounded his more militaristic daughter and heiress, Lady Florys. Even amid her questioning of the viability of his peaceful ways when surrounded by those who would make war, a terrible sight would steel his resolve, watching the Mander burning green, every bit as terrible as the flames from twenty one years prior. That night he made a simple vow, never again.
The League of the Cornucopia, he would name his little group, a gallery of lords and ladies whose acquaintances he’d made over the years. With these fellow gourmets he would share the culinary knowledge he’d gleaned from his journeys in the east and west. Most unusual for a lord of his rank, Dorian came to spend a great deal of time in his kitchens, testing out recipes himself. On occasion, the dishes he served to his guests for these small, intimate gatherings would be the work of his own hands. The membership did vary from time to time, both based on who could make it and who he sought to bring together. Rather than a fully closed circle, the League is more like a form of feasting, only it’s done for a much smaller crowd, without the public spectacle. Such occasions allowed for more refined foods which did not need to be served to hundreds and kept constantly warm over the course of hours like some common tavern stew. It also opened up an arena of more intimate diplomacy and negotiation for those who sought it, hosted on neutral ground by a lordly mediator, free from prying eyes.
Timeline:
25BC: Dorian is born, second in line to Longtable
24BC: His sister Lydia is born
9BC: House Merryweather hosts House Gardener for a tourney and feast. Dorian and his older brother Bennard serve the dish of honor to King Mern Gardener and his family. During the subsequent tourney, Mern knights both boys, despite their inexperience and lack of victory in the tourney
9BC-2BC: Dorian spends much time travelling the reach, attending events
1BC: Dorian and Bennard fight in the vanguard at the Field of Fire. Both are burned, Bennard far more severely than Dorian. Lord Merryweather is killed. Traumatized by the battle and his new maimed body, Bennard starts refusing food. Dorian desperately tries to re-create the dish they served King Mern eight years ago. The cook who made it has since gone senile, but eventually manages to help Dorian re-create it. He is given a place at court as apology for his mistreatment at Dorian's hands before this occurred.
1AC: Lord Bennard dies at the beginning of the year, leaving Dorian as lord of Longtable. His sister Lydia fulfills her betrothal to House Tarly, becoming lady of Horn Hill. At the prospect of marrying a Dornishwoman on the King's orders, Dorian decides to leave Westeros to put off his marriage. In Myr, he meets a woman calling herself Maryah, claiming to be a Tyroshi merchant. They fall in love and travel to Lys together. There Dorian promises to set aside his betrothal for her, whereupon she reveals herself as Joanna Dayne, his dornish betrothed.
1AC-4AC: Dorian and Joanna wed at Longtable, then depart on a new journey of the east. They reach as far as Qarth before turning back home. In 3AC, on the way back, their first child, Florys, is born while the couple are in Volantis, on the way home. They return via the newly built port of King's Landing.
4AC-8AC: Using knowledge from the east, Lord Dorian embarks on a project of rationalizing the agriculture of Longtable
5AC: Dorian and Joanna have their second child, a girl named Ellyn
8AC: Their third daughter, Desmera, is born
13AC: Dorian and Joanna spend a year travelling the northern free cities
14AC: Their fourth and final daughter, Gwin, is born
17AC: Dorian and Joanna undertake a journey to the Summer Islands with their children
23AC: The aftermath of the battle of Stonebridge brings back memories of the Field of Fire, as the Merryweathers watch burning slag run down the Mander
25AC: The Merryweathers travel to the celebration of the maturity of Aegon's sons
Family Tree:
Arthor Merryweather (father, d.1BC)
Cerelle Merryweather (pending family connection) (mother, d.20AC)
Bennard Merryweather (brother, d.1AC)
Lydia Merryweather (sister, b.24BC)
Glendon Merryweather (uncle, d.1BC)
Myrcella Pommingham (aunt, d.22AC)
Leo Merryweather (cousin, b.13AC)
Joanna Dayne (wife, b.26AC)
Florys Merryweather (daughter, b.3AC)
Ellyn Merryweather (daughter, b.5AC)
Desmera Merryweather (daughter, b.8AC)
Gwin Merryweather (daughter, b.13AC)
_____________________________________________________________________________________
Auxiliary Character:
Name and House: Florys Merryweather
Age: 23
Cultural Group: Reachman
Appearance: [A short, muscular woman with wavy black hair, normally worn in a bun. She has high cheekbones and a proud demeanor. Her rigid strength stands in contrast to the more relaxed nature of the Merryweather court, one she finds overly lax and casual](0_0.png (896×1344) (discordapp.com))
Trait: Hale
Skills: Swords (e), Essosi Blademaster
Talents: Dancing, Fishing, Cooking
Negative Traits: N/A
Starting Title: Heir to Longtable
Starting Location: Opening Event
Timeline:
3AC: Florys is born in Volantis, while her parents are on their way home from Essos
10AC: Florys starts training under Saathos Trevelyan, her father's Master at Arms
13 AC: She joins her parents on a tour of Pentos, Braavos, Norvos and Qohor
17AC: She travels with her parents to the Summer Islands
19AC-23AC: As she comes of age, Florys becomes more critical of her father's desire for peace, viewing it as increasingly far-fetched amid the increasingly controversial regency and the impending succession dispute. She resolves to make the kinds of connections her father seems unwilling to, in case of war
25AC: She accompanies her family to the celebrations
NPCS:
Ser Leo Merryweather (Age: 37, Archetype: Magnate) Lord Merryweather's first cousin, he has become an indispensable agent in the daily running of Longtable. Despite his foppish demeanor and aparent laziness, he is highly capable and loyal in his task of increasing his family's fortune. He remains happily unwed
Saathos Tevelyan: (Age:48, Archetype: Master at Arms) The son of a Lysene father and a Myrish mother, Saathos initially sought a career in amongst Myr's military officers, however his family's relatively low status proved an impediment to further promotion, later compounded by a dispute with a superior. He met Lord Merryweather in 3AC and eventually travelled West to offer his services five years later, finding his career progress stonewalled in his home city. Well into middle age, he still looks firm and imposing as profesisonal a soldier ought to

My last post went over surprisingly well, that said you should check out my new subreddit Talesofzippy for more content, because I'm definitely going to posting in more places around reddit and I'll be cross posting them in the tales sub for more people to enjoy!
With that, I don't remember any good stories about Zippy, but the place I work at is fucking filled with loonies, so tonight I'm going to introduce you to Katniss.
Katniss is about 63, tiny, and absolutely loved to talk about how good her guns are, even if she can't shoot or generally understand how they work. She tried to tell me that her Girsan was a high quality gun because the barrel is pinned in place.
I'm a competitive shooter, I grew up shooting and learning about guns.
When a pistol fires a round, a floating barrel will be pointed at an upward angle at the end of the stroke, while a pinned barrel doesn't. The floating barrel doesn't effect accuracy in any meaningful way because it is held in place by several seers, and doesn't begin to move until well after the bullet is out of the gun.
I tried to explain that, she didn't listen. She also can't shoot. Katniss.
She also wears boomer shirts about "snowflakes" and shares memes about the good old days when you could say whatever you want and be offensive.
This gets funny later.
Katniss and I worked together running gas pumps, and we generally got along great, in fact for a year I considered her to be a friend.
And then my dad killed himself.
I got the call at work and got a ride home as quickly as possible. Katniss was on shift with me and Yawn, who is the most chill person you can imagine.
They were incredible, Katniss broke into my apartment (at my request) and took my shotgun for safe keeping. She also took my keys and made me wait for a family friend to pick me up.
I called the night manager and told him I was going home and why, He offered me a ride.
I came into work three days later and stuck my head into my boss (Elk Daddy's) office. He simply said "how long do you need?"
"Two weeks."
"Okay."
I mention this because Anything less than this is a cancerous work environment. If a manager tries to negotiate with you when you've experienced a true tragedy, they're not a manager, they're a slave driver.
I had severe PTSD, nightmares, the whole shabang, for months I would stand at the desk and hear my mom's voice telling me my dad was dead, the first night back at work I witnessed some dumb janitorial drama (not zippy) and I started smelling the sickly sweet smell of human brain before I ran home and had my first panic attack.
(I'll tell the story of Elk Daddy, and make good on a promise I made my dad as a bonus at the end.)
Six months passed, my PTSD wasn't even beginning to heal, and she pulled me aside.
"Okay. It's time to stop now."
"Stop what?"
"This, you're in a rut, and you need to get out of it. It's high time you moved on and stopped being sad and moved on. See my sister was in a car accident and went into a coma when I was about 20, and I had a dream about her getting up and walking out of her hospital room and saying "it's about fucking time." The next day her heart gave out and she finally died. It was this freeing thing for me, because I felt like she was finally free of the broken body and the pain."
"Katniss I just don't feel like I'm... There yet. I'm still hurting, and I really don't feel like I'm ready to let him go. Things aren't that easy."
She didn't like that answer.
At the time I just felt broken, and just laid there and took it, but today I'm genuinely angry about it.
I was hurt, and now that I've rebuilt myself I realized how truly broken I was as a person.
She had no right to say anything to me about how it was time to stop. I'm still healing four years on.
That was when we stopped being friends.
Last year I was going through stickers for our local pride, the second one our community has ever had! I had come out as bi the year before, and had a side project that had grown large enough to have a booth at the local event. I was showing off some cool and funny stickers to Yawn, another cashier.
Yawn is great, he has no blood pressure, everything is just really cool and chill, and he really just wanted to be friends with everyone.
Genuinely nice person. I always get him a Christmas gift and he's always grateful, no matter what it is.
I turned around and handed a sticker to Katniss that said "be gay, so crime" with a little picture of a fabulous criminal goose on it.
She took one look at it and just went "No" rather forcefully, so I just backed off and moved on.
The next day my boss, Elk Daddy, calls me over.
"Op, you handed Katniss a sticker yesterday, and I just want to tell you. Stop talking to her. Please. For me."
"She really complained about that?"
"No, she threatened to go to HR because you "assumed her orientation" and tried to give her a sticker."
It is at this point that I'd like to add that Elk Daddy is gay. Like... Really gay. Him and his husband both donate their time and money to pride, and have been instrumental in making it happen. They are the gay uncles that stepped up to be dads for their nephews when Elk Daddy's brother couldn't.
He knows Katniss, and both of us know her HUSBAND.
So. We didn't talk outside of necessary conversations, and haven't really said anything to each other for any reason.... Until I transferred to my current department and ran out of pens.
I walked over to the cashier desk "hey Katniss, can I get a handful of pens? I ran out."
"I gave three to morning shift last night, what happened to those?"
"I don't know, and it doesn't matter, can I get some?"
Yawn walked over to the drawer where we keep the pens and opened it, while Katniss sighs and opens up her drawer and drops a pen on the counter.
"Come on Katniss, I need more than that."
"I don't have that many pens, they're not giving them to us, here, this is all I have."
She angrily throws down two more pins on the counter as Yawn retrieves an entire box of pens from the drawer and begins walking over. She sees him and motions for him to stop."
"Don't fucking bullshit me Katniss, I see Yawn with the box. Just give me some pens."
She drops six more down on the counter, I take them and walk off. "Thank you."
Ten minutes later she comes over to the deli and slams a box of pens down on the counter for me
"Don't ask me for pens again."
"Wouldn't have it any other way."
She then told the MOD that I cussed her out. I told my side, and several people in the management chain pointed out that she wore tee shirts under her uniform that said more offensive things, one of them even saying "don't fucking bullshit me."
She is no longer allowed to wear her tee shirts.
She's also had it pointed out to her that she says "don't fucking bullshit me" all the time, and management has gently reminded her that she should not swear.
A few weeks ago she very dejectedly told me that she was done trying to help people, and I had to bite back a "good, we don't need it."
And here we are... End of another post about the weird boomers I work with.
BONUS STORIES!
As for Elk Daddy.
My boss has only ever taken his husband out hunting one time. When they did, they ended up trekking across the country on deer trails and through the brush. After 12 hours of being dragged through the brush and not shooting anything, his husband said something to the effect of "I hate this. I can't keep up with you and you just disappear all the goddamn time." He took my boss's phone, logged in, and yells "in fact HEY SIRI, FROM NOW ON CALL ME ELK DADDY."
nickname earned. He has it monogramed on his wallet.
And finally, my dad, who was another Boomer, used to love taking me out camping.
He was an electrical engineer, and was most certainly on the spectrum. He was brilliant in his own way, but absolutely unhinged when it came to teaching things.
A lecture from my dad could cover cleaning the stove (with diagrams on proper wiping techniques) to the finer points of building and firing a nuclear weapon. (With math included. No mercy.)
He tried to teach me calculus when I was six. It didn't work.
Anyway, on this particular camping trip he pulled me aside and said "op, I want you to make me a fire using nothing but two sticks, your knife, a match and the chainsaw"
Now. I knew where he was coming from, he wanted me to make a fuzz stick. I knew because he had only brought up the topic of making a fuzz stick every night for the past three days of camping. He then very helpfully added "and the chainsaw is a distraction."
Uh huh. Okay dad.
I Start cutting up the wood and making a teepee fire, and I hear a little "hmph" I look up and I see the smile. The grin he used to get as he started planning one of his little lectures. He was picking out the right words, deciding if he needed to demonstrate or just use a pen and paper.
I then opened up the gas tank on the chainsaw, dumped in a tablespoon of gas, lit the match and "whoof"
Fire.
Then the argument began.
"I said you couldn't use gas!"
"You said I could use the chainsaw, that includes the gas tank!"
"The chainsaw was a distraction!"
"Still gave it to me!"
"You cheated!!!"
"How?"
Long pause.
"I won, admit it. I beat you in a way you didn't expect. You will never live this down. I'll tell this story at your funeral!"
And I did. Three years later I tore up my hastily scribbled notes and told a group of the friends, neighbors and coworkers that he knew and loved about the time I finally beat him. We laughed.
I think he'd be proud, and a little indignant.
I miss you dad.

Last week, BM dropped the “I’m your REAL mom, and she’s your pretend mom” on SD(6) over video chat the same day she told her she had a new baby that no one knew she was expecting (including SD).
Since then, SD has been having a really hard time. She’s always been a very happy kid, but it’s like something in her switched and it’s heartbreaking. She’s angry and sad. Not sleeping well.
The hardest part to navigate is that she’s actively icing me out. She told me last week that she wanted to me go in the room so she could be alone with her dad. My husband addressed that it isn’t how we treat our family, and we talked it out. She repeated that sentiment again today. For the last week, my husband hasn’t been able to speak to me directly without her jumping in and cutting me out of the conversation entirely. She doesn’t want to sit on the couch if I’m on it. It’s heartbreaking.
I’m trying to be patient, hold space for her, and not take it personally, but I’m having a really difficult time. Does anyone have any advice?
.
Background:
I’ve been the only mother figure for my SD since she was 1.5 y/o. BM left DH and took her out of state, and he was supposed to get her over the summers (plus child support and frequent video chat). That went out the window when family members raised very credible concerns of abuse & neglect. We’ve had her full-time since then.
SD started calling me mom during a time when BM was MIA for over a year and we never corrected her. When BM popped back up, we gave her a different variation of “mom.” BM has never visited. Never sent child support. Only video chats every 1-3 months (or longer). She’s never been denied the opportunity she just doesn’t.
Here’s the thing: we’ve never lied to SD. We just haven’t fully answered the question yet. She knew BM & DH were together. She’s seen pictures of them when she was a baby. We were avoiding the painful truth that BM went off and had more kids and has never shown up for her. That’s the first thing she asked about.
I think the phrases “real mom” & “pretend mom” is what got to SD plus the sudden new baby. It doesn’t help that in the same call, BM told SD that the reason she can’t visit is because we moved too far away.
Idk what compelled BM. We’ve never spoken badly about her before. We always just say “plane tickets cost a lot of money” when SD asks why she can’t come visit. We let the child support thing go… she just blew up SD’s worldview for her own ego I guess.
Nonetheless, I’m struggling to find a way to support her and hold space for her feelings without allowing her to treat me poorly while also repairing our relationship… Please help. This is so hard.

My last post went over surprisingly well, that said you should check out my new subreddit Talesofzippy for more content, because I'm definitely going to posting in more places around reddit and I'll be cross posting them in the tales sub for more people to enjoy!
With that, I don't remember any good stories about Zippy, but the place I work at is fucking filled with loonies, so tonight I'm going to introduce you to Katniss.
Katniss is about 63, tiny, and absolutely loved to talk about how good her guns are, even if she can't shoot or generally understand how they work. She tried to tell me that her Girsan was a high quality gun because the barrel is pinned in place.
I'm a competitive shooter, I grew up shooting and learning about guns.
When a pistol fires a round, a floating barrel will be pointed at an upward angle at the end of the stroke, while a pinned barrel doesn't. The floating barrel doesn't effect accuracy in any meaningful way because it is held in place by several seers, and doesn't begin to move until well after the bullet is out of the gun.
I tried to explain that, she didn't listen. She also can't shoot. Katniss.
She also wears boomer shirts about "snowflakes" and shares memes about the good old days when you could say whatever you want and be offensive.
This gets funny later.
Katniss and I worked together running gas pumps, and we generally got along great, in fact for a year I considered her to be a friend.
And then my dad killed himself.
I got the call at work and got a ride home as quickly as possible. Katniss was on shift with me and Yawn, who is the most chill person you can imagine.
They were incredible, Katniss broke into my apartment (at my request) and took my shotgun for safe keeping. She also took my keys and made me wait for a family friend to pick me up.
I called the night manager and told him I was going home and why, He offered me a ride.
I came into work three days later and stuck my head into my boss (Elk Daddy's) office. He simply said "how long do you need?"
"Two weeks."
"Okay."
I mention this because Anything less than this is a cancerous work environment. If a manager tries to negotiate with you when you've experienced a true tragedy, they're not a manager, they're a slave driver.
I had severe PTSD, nightmares, the whole shabang, for months I would stand at the desk and hear my mom's voice telling me my dad was dead, the first night back at work I witnessed some dumb janitorial drama (not zippy) and I started smelling the sickly sweet smell of human brain before I ran home and had my first panic attack.
(I'll tell the story of Elk Daddy, and make good on a promise I made my dad as a bonus at the end.)
Six months passed, my PTSD wasn't even beginning to heal, and she pulled me aside.
"Okay. It's time to stop now."
"Stop what?"
"This, you're in a rut, and you need to get out of it. It's high time you moved on and stopped being sad and moved on. See my sister was in a car accident and went into a coma when I was about 20, and I had a dream about her getting up and walking out of her hospital room and saying "it's about fucking time." The next day her heart gave out and she finally died. It was this freeing thing for me, because I felt like she was finally free of the broken body and the pain."
"Katniss I just don't feel like I'm... There yet. I'm still hurting, and I really don't feel like I'm ready to let him go. Things aren't that easy."
She didn't like that answer.
At the time I just felt broken, and just laid there and took it, but today I'm genuinely angry about it.
I was hurt, and now that I've rebuilt myself I realized how truly broken I was as a person.
She had no right to say anything to me about how it was time to stop. I'm still healing four years on.
That was when we stopped being friends.
Last year I was going through stickers for our local pride, the second one our community has ever had! I had come out as bi the year before, and had a side project that had grown large enough to have a booth at the local event. I was showing off some cool and funny stickers to Yawn, another cashier.
Yawn is great, he has no blood pressure, everything is just really cool and chill, and he really just wanted to be friends with everyone.
Genuinely nice person. I always get him a Christmas gift and he's always grateful, no matter what it is.
I turned around and handed a sticker to Katniss that said "be gay, do crime" with a little picture of a fabulous criminal goose on it.
She took one look at it and just went "No" rather forcefully, so I just backed off and moved on.
The next day my boss, Elk Daddy, calls me over.
"Op, you handed Katniss a sticker yesterday, and I just want to tell you. Stop talking to her. Please. For me."
"She really complained about that?"
"No, she threatened to go to HR because you "assumed her orientation" and tried to give her a sticker."
It is at this point that I'd like to add that Elk Daddy is gay. Like... Really gay. Him and his husband both donate their time and money to pride, and have been instrumental in making it happen. They are the gay uncles that stepped up to be dads for their nephews when Elk Daddy's brother couldn't.
He knows Katniss, and both of us know her HUSBAND.
So. We didn't talk outside of necessary conversations, and haven't really said anything to each other for any reason.... Until I transferred to my current department and ran out of pens.
I walked over to the cashier desk "hey Katniss, can I get a handful of pens? I ran out."
"I gave three to morning shift last night, what happened to those?"
"I don't know, and it doesn't matter, can I get some?"
Yawn walked over to the drawer where we keep the pens and opened it, while Katniss sighs and opens up her drawer and drops a pen on the counter.
"Come on Katniss, I need more than that."
"I don't have that many pens, they're not giving them to us, here, this is all I have."
She angrily throws down two more pins on the counter as Yawn retrieves an entire box of pens from the drawer and begins walking over. She sees him and motions for him to stop."
"Don't fucking bullshit me Katniss, I see Yawn with the box. Just give me some pens."
She drops six more down on the counter, I take them and walk off. "Thank you."
Ten minutes later she comes over to the deli and slams a box of pens down on the counter for me
"Don't ask me for pens again."
"Wouldn't have it any other way."
She then told the MOD that I cussed her out. I told my side, and several people in the management chain pointed out that she wore tee shirts under her uniform that said more offensive things, one of them even saying "don't fucking bullshit me."
She is no longer allowed to wear her tee shirts.
She's also had it pointed out to her that she says "don't fucking bullshit me" all the time, and management has gently reminded her that she should not swear.
A few weeks ago she very dejectedly told me that she was done trying to help people, and I had to bite back a "good, we don't need it."
And here we are... End of another post about the weird boomers I work with.
BONUS STORIES!
As for Elk Daddy.
My boss has only ever taken his husband out hunting one time. When they did, they ended up trekking across the country on deer trails and through the brush. After 12 hours of being dragged through the brush and not shooting anything, his husband said something to the effect of "I hate this. I can't keep up with you and you just disappear all the goddamn time." He took my boss's phone, logged in, and yells "in fact HEY SIRI, FROM NOW ON CALL ME ELK DADDY."
nickname earned. He has it monogramed on his wallet.
And finally, my dad, who was another Boomer, used to love taking me out camping.
He was an electrical engineer, and was most certainly on the spectrum. He was brilliant in his own way, but absolutely unhinged when it came to teaching things.
A lecture from my dad could cover cleaning the stove (with diagrams on proper wiping techniques) to the finer points of building and firing a nuclear weapon. (With math included. No mercy.)
He tried to teach me calculus when I was six. It didn't work.
Anyway, on this particular camping trip he pulled me aside and said "op, I want you to make me a fire using nothing but two sticks, your knife, a match and the chainsaw"
Now. I knew where he was coming from, he wanted me to make a fuzz stick. I knew because he had only brought up the topic of making a fuzz stick every night for the past three days of camping. He then very helpfully added "and the chainsaw is a distraction."
Uh huh. Okay dad.
I Start cutting up the wood and making a teepee fire, and I hear a little "hmph" I look up and I see the smile. The grin he used to get as he started planning one of his little lectures. He was picking out the right words, deciding if he needed to demonstrate or just use a pen and paper.
I then opened up the gas tank on the chainsaw, dumped in a tablespoon of gas, lit the match and "whoof"
Fire.
Then the argument began.
"I said you couldn't use gas!"
"You said I could use the chainsaw, that includes the gas tank!"
"The chainsaw was a distraction!"
"Still gave it to me!"
"You cheated!!!"
"How?"
Long pause.
"I won, admit it. I beat you in a way you didn't expect. You will never live this down. I'll tell this story at your funeral!"
And I did. Three years later I tore up my hastily scribbled notes and told a group of the friends, neighbors and coworkers that he knew and loved about the time I finally beat him. We laughed.
I think he'd be proud, and a little indignant.
I miss you dad.

Last night, when I was home alone, a hand reached out from under the couch and grabbed me.
Nobody was there to see it, and nobody that I’ve told believes me, but it definitely happened. It’s not the kind of thing you can just imagine, and I’m sure now that it wasn’t a dream.
I was watching TV when it happened. The remote fell under the couch and I started fishing around for it without really looking, not wanting to get up from my seat. I brushed it with the tips of my fingers and it slid further underneath.
I was super annoyed— I had to get down on my knees to reach it. I finally found the remote, and that’s when it grabbed me.
As I pulled the remote out into the light, a hand shot up from under the couch and wrapped its fingers around my wrist.
I was able to yank myself away quickly. It didn’t hold on tight— just enough that I felt a little resistance. I jumped to my feet, obviously terrified.
I didn’t scream or anything. I was honestly too scared to even make a sound. My heart was beating so fast that my ears started to ring. The TV was still going, commercials droning on while I tried to process what had just happened.
The hand had only come out about a foot from under the couch. It had an arm attached to it, though I wasn’t able to see past its elbow, and it slinked back below the couch as soon as I pulled myself free from its grasp.
It didn’t hurt, and it didn’t leave any sort of bruise or mark or anything on my wrist, but I definitely felt it, and I definitely saw it.
All I could do was stare at the spot where the hand had appeared. I stood there for what felt like an eternity, until I heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps right outside my front door.
I live in a second-story apartment. It’s a pretty cramped place and a pretty old building, so whenever someone comes over I can usually hear footsteps from the moment they enter the building downstairs.
I guess I was so freaked out by the hand that I didn’t even notice someone was outside until they were already opening the door.
My roommate walked in on quite a scene. She immediately registered how off the vibe was. I could see it on her face.
She found me standing upright in the middle of our living room, TV remote in hand, facing away from the screen while Full House’s laugh track filled the air. I’m sure I’d think it was odd too.
“Hey…” she said, shifting a paper bag full of groceries in her arm while she pocketed her keys, “You good?”
I felt like I was caught with my pants down, but just seeing a familiar face brought some of the blood back to my fingers.
“N—yeah,” I stuttered. I came back online, and flicked the TV off.
I felt her eyes on me as she walked over to the kitchen. There’s no wall or anything dividing the two rooms. Like I said, the place is pretty cramped.
She started putting her groceries away as if everything was normal, but I could tell she wanted to ask what was up.
I kept looking back and forth between her and the couch. I can’t explain it, but I already knew that if I looked under there, I wouldn’t find any trace of whoever (or whatever) grabbed me.
As she started loading up the fridge, I dropped to my hands and knees once again. Without taking even a second to ready myself, I brought my head down to the ground and looked under the couch.
Nothing.
Pretty much what I expected. There was barely enough room for me to squeeze my arm under there for the remote. No way a whole person could fit beneath that thing, and even if they could, there’s no way I wouldn’t have seen them or heard them or something before they grabbed me.
“Seriously, what’s up?”
I looked up to see my roommate standing right behind me, arms crossed, clearly concerned.
I knew I was acting strange, and I knew that nothing I would come up with in the next five seconds could possibly excuse my behavior. I made a judgement call, honestly not really caring about how it would be received.
“I uh… something grabbed me earlier.”
“What?”
“Under the couch. I dropped the remote, and when I picked it up, a hand reached out from under the couch and grabbed me.”
Took her a second to respond.
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“That’s it. A hand reached out and grabbed me by the wrist. It happened like a minute before you got here.”
That part might have been a lie. I actually have no idea how long I had been standing in the middle of the room before she showed up.
“Wait so like someone broke in?”
“No. It’s just like I said. A hand reached out, grabbed me, and then it was gone.”
She just kinda looked at me for a while. I don’t blame her, but it’s not like there was any way for me to sugarcoat it.
“Are you sure?”
“What do you mean ‘am I sure?’ Yes, yes I’m fucking sure!”
My voice broke a little when I said that. I was still down on my knees, like I was praying for her to believe me.
“Okay well obviously that didn’t happen Sam.”I let out a desperate laugh and threw my hands up in the air. I slapped them down on my thighs dramatically and shook my head in exasperation.
“Yeah obviously it sounds fucking crazy but you asked what happened and that’s what happened. I don’t know how else to describe it. I’m just being honest.”
I pulled myself up to my feet and walked around to the armrest of the couch. She kept studying me, probably thinking this was all a prank or something.
“What are you doing?” She asked, arms still glued across her chest.
“I’m checking under the couch.”
I pushed one end of the couch away from the wall. It was pretty heavy, and the coffee table stopped me from moving it too far. I dragged the coffee table towards the TV to free up some space.
My roommate started staring at the spot I was clearing as if she expected to see something there too.
I went back over to the armrest.
“Can you help me?”
She snapped out of her trance and silently went to grab the other side. We pulled the couch away from the wall, revealing a thick rectangle of dust that had not seen the light of day since we moved in a year ago.
I dropped to my knees once more and began wiping away the grime with my bare hands. There was nothing but the floorboards beneath it. No surprise.
I sat there for a second, eyes darting around the floor. No fingerprints in the dust, no scratches or marks or anything. I felt the tension in the room dissipate as my roommate found her voice again.
“I think you must have imagined it.”
I didn’t. There’s no way.
“Dude, no. I felt it and I saw it. Clear as day. It was a hand, and it grabbed me. That’s not the sort of thing you can just imagine.”
She scoffed, any fear left in her giving way to frustration.
“Whatever. This is fucking stupid. I’m going to bed.”
She stomped off towards her room.
“Wait.”
She spun on her heels as I stood up, probably expecting me to tell her I was joking about the whole thing.
“Can you help me flip the couch over?”
She rolled her eyes.
“Sure. But I’m not helping you put it back.”
She helped me lift the couch off of its legs and tilt it onto its front cushions, exposing the fabric underneath. She disappeared into her room and I went to work studying the underside of the sofa.
There was a zipper lining the bottom, but I found nothing inside when I opened it up. Just a hollow wooden frame and a bunch of crumbs.
I sat back against the wall, more tired than scared at that point.
I can’t believe she thinks I’m making this up. Why would I even do that? What purpose would it serve?
As I solemnly went about rebuilding our living room, I decided that the next day (today) I was gonna take off work, wait for her to leave, and really get to the bottom of this.
I didn’t sleep at all last night. Every nook and cranny of my room felt like a door left wide open, with something sinister waiting on the other side.
What if the hand comes back? What if it wants to hurt me next time? How can I even protect myself?
After like ten restless minutes in bed, I decided to move to the floor. I couldn’t help it. I kept imagining the hand reaching up from under the bed and grabbing me again.
I made a makeshift sleeping bag out of my comforter and some pillows, and I laid on my side so I could keep an eye on the underside of my bedframe while I slept. Maybe “slept” isn’t the right word. Even down there, I couldn’t bring myself to close my eyes for longer than a minute.
Eventually sunlight began to peek through the blinds, and I heard some movement within the apartment. My roommate was finally up. I heard the front door close, and it was time to get to work.
I nearly threw my back out yanking the couch away from the wall to reveal the floorboards underneath. They aren’t real floorboards, just the kind of cheap-o fake shit they put in crappy houses to make them look more modern. Our whole apartment is like that— a thin coat of paint slapped over an old building from the 40s or whatever.
My dad actually owns this building. He lets me and my roommate stay here as long as we pay him $500 a month, which is way cheaper than most places in my area.
It’s not really an apartment building to be honest. You can tell it used to be a family home before some realtor swooped in and broke it up into apartments. There are a lot of those around here.
Anyway, the fake wood came up easy. It was only about a quarter inch thick. I was able to pull up the first plank by hammering a kitchen knife into a slit between the boards, and then I peeled a few more away by hand.
After prying away about a dozen of these fake floorboards, I started to realize that I wasn’t going to find anything without making a significantly larger dent. Right beneath the thin layer of fake wood was a layer of very real, very thick wooden beams that seemed to span well beyond the hole I had managed to claw open.
My back crackled and popped as I sat back on my heels to admire my handiwork and contemplate where to go from there. I knew I would need a power saw or some kind of heavy duty tool to get any deeper, but I was afraid of two things:

1. That these beams were supporting the entire second floor of the building, and cutting through them would make the whole thing collapse
2. That going any deeper would lead me into the ceiling of the apartment below us, and whoever lives there would call my dad before I could see what I needed to see.

Regardless of the risks, I knew I had to keep going. I was certain that something was down there. Whatever grabbed me had to have left some sort of evidence.
I can’t stop thinking about that fucking hand.
I’m not supposed to have it, but my dad gave me a master key for the whole building in case of emergencies. He could really get in trouble if anyone found out, but if this isn’t an emergency then idk what is.
There’s a service shed around the back of the building, which has seen none of the love that the main building saw when it was renovated. Decades worth of rusty antiques and rotting furniture line the walls. A shiny, modern tool bench sits unnaturally in the middle of the chaos.
I rifled through all of that shit as fast as I could. I’m not really close with my dad all things considered, and I’m sure he’d be super pissed if he found me out there. He’s so secretive about random shit all the time, and he’s constantly dropping by the building unannounced.
I found the jigsaw under a pile of old newspapers and ran back upstairs.
I probably should have checked the driveway to see if anyone was home first, because the saw made so much noise. The cord barely reached from the outlet to the spot where the couch used to be, but as awkward as the angle was, I was still able to get it in there.
I went as small as possible with my first few cuts. I started with a single beam, cutting out a section about 6x6 inches wide. I slid the chunk of wood out, and, to my relief, didn’t immediately see the plaster that would be my downstairs neighbor’s ceiling.
A tuft of insulation stuck out where I made the hole. I didn’t know that stuff is made from fiberglass or whatever, and I got a really bad splinter when I went to yank it out.
I fished some leather gloves out of my roommate’s closet and got to work on the insulation. I pulled and pulled but couldn’t get a good enough grip to remove anything more than a few bits about the size of a tennis ball.
I went back in with the jigsaw, cutting bigger and bigger chunks until I had cleared a hole about two feet in diameter.
No sign that I was gonna bring the building down, that’s good.
I hacked away for hours. More wood came up, more insulation came up, and when I finally hit a fragile-looking layer of drywall, I knew the jig was up. That’s definitely my neighbor’s ceiling. Fuck.
My roommate and I got in a screaming match when she got home. I made a pretty big mess but I don’t really give a fuck honestly.
I don’t give a fuck if she believes me. I fucking hate that bitch. I told her if she tells my dad what I’m doing, I’ll bash her brains in with the hammer. That shut her up. She left with a bag full of her clothes like an hour later.
Tomorrow I’m going to wait for our downstairs neighbor to leave and start investigating from the bottom-up. If there wasn’t any evidence on the floor up here, there HAS to be something on the ceiling down there.
If I do find something, I’ll post again. I doubt anyone will even believe me, but at this point I just want everything written down somewhere accessible in case something bad happens.
There has to be something down there. Something grabbed me. And I’m going to find out what it is.

Slutty Sister Has Her Brother Locked For Life (non-con, forced chastity, bondage, punishment)
Part 1
The keyholder nurse gave me instructions and explained everything after it was all over. My family had told me that I was a sex pervert and I was "being dealt with". I knew I was in trouble, but I was a young man, only 18 and I didn't understand what was going on. No one had told me anything after the hearing.
Mom drove me to an odd building, led me to a secure room and left. A young nurse told me to undress. I was totally naked. An older woman in scrubs and a man entered. They strapped my arms and legs down to a cold steel table. The nurse offered the woman a syringe, but she declined and said "No, I want this creep to feel it".
It all started a month ago. I lived with my mom and sister, dad was gone. My sister was 19, with a tight body and medium sized, perky tits. Mom was thick, curvy, with giant tits. Both recently got their naval's pierced with matching studs. Neither had boyfriends, but they were very promiscuous. We lived in a mobile home with thin walls, so I could hear them getting fucked often.
I made some mistakes. First, my sister caught me peeping on her in the shower and told mom. Then, two of her "friends" came over for sex. They took turns on her. She got very loud. After they left, I went in her room. She covered herself, but I saw her pussy and stomach first. There were small puddles of cum around her pantyline, and some more of it leaking out of her. I told her I was still a virgin and asked if I could "go next" on her. She yelled "get out" and told mom when she got home from work.
The third incident was more serious they said. Mom would sometimes drink and pass out. I'd never felt tits before and hers were so enticing. She had some drinks and went to bed. I snuck in. She was asleep, uncovered, wearing a gown. I grabbed her heaving boobs. Then I took one of my hands off her chest and pulled the gown above her waist, exposing her. I slid my hand between her legs and rubbed her pussy. She woke up and caught me. She was pissed. The next day my sister told me they had turned me in and there would be a hearing.
So I knew why I was on the metal table, but I didn't know what was next. I couldn't see, there was a drape at my waist. It started with gloves and cold metal on my genitals, then clamping, pinching, pulling, and eventually a sharp puncturing pain near my balls. I begged them to stop, but they did it 2 more times, once on my cock. Finally a metal device was brought out. I could feel it being slid on, clamped down, tightened, then locked. "All done" they said and left. The young nurse stayed behind.
She removed the drape and released the straps. I inspected the "device". My cock and balls had been fed through a steel ring that tightly encircled them at the base. It was secured to a piercing just above my taint and another at the top. My penis was locked in a tight steel "cage" with a hole at the end for pissing. The head had been pierced and a metal bar went through me as extra security. It wasn't going anywhere. The whole thing was super tight.
"What is this?" I asked.
She explained. "It's your chastity device. Your genitals have been locked up. At the hearing, your mother and sister requested that you be put in chastity. The safety council asked them how long they thought would be appropriate and both wanted you locked forever. Since the incidents involved incest, the council agreed. Your penis is locked for life. I'm your keyholder nurse. I will help with adjustments, cleanings, draining your balls, and anything else needed for chastity".
"When do I get to take off?" I said.
She answered, "You're locked forever. So you wont get to take it off. They have to keep you locked so your sister is safe and to punish you for what you did to your mom. You wont be able to have sex or force anyone. Since you can't masturbate, your balls might swell, so you will see me every other month to drain them, do a deep cleaning, and tighten your cage, if necessary.
--------------------------------XXX--------------------------------

Part 2

The room was cold. My keyholder nurse was a cute twenty-something. A name tag with "Beverly" was pinned above her perky boobs. Her scrub top was tight around her chest. I could see the shape of her breasts and her hard nipples pressing againt the fabric. I stared and my cage got tighter. She noticed and grinned slightly.
I got back to business, "Can I appeal or get parole or something? What happens next?"
She answered, "Sorry, no appeals for chastity. There is parole, but not for incest cases. What you did is considered extremely disgusting, so they deemed you a "most extreme pervert". Incest offenders get more severe penalties and no parole. I'm not supposed to be judgemental, but you're my first incest case and it sounded really awful at your hearing. It's hard to believe creeps as bad as you even exist, who rubs their own mom's pussy? This case is really bad, so I'm gonna go harder on you than my other guys. I hope it was worth it. So here's what's next...your mother and sister are entitled to a final inspection of your genitals, then you'll go directly to prison to be processed and locked up in the chastity unit."
I was confused and responded with frustration, "I can't believe this is happening to me. I just got too horny seeing the girls dressed like sluts and listening to them getting fucked all the time. After seeing my sisters cum-filled pussy, I lost control and slipped up. If she just gave me sloppy seconds, I wouldn't have done all that to mom....What do you mean prison?!?!"
She responded, bursting with excitement, "Dont worry, you'll learn your lesson! OH! I see they didn't tell you about prison yet, since you were a rush case. Chastity is just an add-on to your prison sentence as an extra penalty and to keep everyone safe. Let me look at your file to see how much time you'll serve."
Looking at her tablet, she smiled big and replied, "I've never gotten to do this before! Most guys hear about their sentence before they get to me...Ok, so they actually got you taken care of pretty good here. It got split up into multiple counts, so fortunately, they were able to put you away for a long time."
She continued, "Your sister had you convicted on two charges, one for the shower incident and one for the bedroom incident. You got two more for mom, one for groping her tits and another for going between her legs. I'll read them off...
Count 1, Incestual peeping, sentence: 1 year special confinement
Count 2, Incestual peeping with propositioning, sentence: 1.5 years special confinement
Count 3, 2nd Degree Incestual Sexual Battery, 2 years special confinement
Ok and here's the big one! For touching mom's pussy...
Count 4, 1st Dregee Incestual Sexual Battery, 4.5 years RIGOROUS confinement in the SCU-I, (Special Chastity Unit, Incest wing), with intensive perversion correction."
So you'll do nine years total, with the first four-and-a-half in the incest wing."
I was completely shocked, "Nine years!? Are you serious? What's special confinement? Am I going to regular prison or what?
Beverely explained, "Special confinement means you'll be put in the chastity unit. It's a separate level for inmates that have their genitals locked, like rapists and other perverts. It's a little different. The cells are super small, you don't get any privileges like TV, and you stay locked in your cell for 23 hours a day. But don't worry. Most of my guys are in the chastity unit. They all want out really bad, but they're fine. Some eventually leave for regular population if their sentence allows, but you'll actually just be finishing up in the main chasity unit after you're done with rigororous confinement for the first four-and-a-half. You'll start off in the incest wing".
"What is all that? I asked
Beverly explained further, "It's a big deal. That's why I got so excited when I read your sentence on count 4. It wasn't just the amount of time you got, but what'll be happening to you that makes it a heavy one. I've heard it's very extreme. Since you're my first incest case, I'm not as familiar with it, but I've heard you're basically caged up 24/7 and pretty much treated like an animal. I'm not sure if you even get a toilet or a bed. You only leave your cage once every two weeks for perversion correction, which I might get to assist with, and you'll get another device I've heard about, called the "silver bullet". I think it's an anal device? You'll learn more about that when you get there. Oh! Looks like it's time to get you ready for inspection."
The door opened as she left and two female guards entered. One had a tazer. They led me to another table. This one had wheels. I sat on the edge. One grabbed my ankles and another tried to push me on my back. I resisted, trying to spin off the table. I was immediately tazed, then sedated, imobilizing me. "This will be easier for if you just comply" she said. I was on my back again. My ankles were lifted toward my head, folding my legs over me. Thick zip ties were placed around my ankles and calfs. My hands and forearms were looped through both, then "zzzzzzzztttt", it was all cinched down tight, securing my arms to my legs. A bar was secured between my knees, keeping me exposed. Beverly came back in. One of the guards said "He's all yours hon" as they left.
"Let's get you cleaned up" Beverly said. "Your mom and sister are on their way and they're excited to see your private parts all locked up for good.
She put gloves on, then approached the table, placing one hand over my nose. I opened my mouth and she shoved a gag in and secured it around my head. "This is just a temporary gag. Your sister didn't want you talking during inspection. I believe you'll get more securely gagged and muzzled when you get to processing. I've heard the guys don't get solid food in the incest wing, you get fed a liquid diet, like that soylent stuff, that you'll take through a drinking tube in your gag. It's really amazing how good they have you incest perverts locked up over there. I can't wait to see you like that.
She started the cleaning by soaping and lathering around my crotch, exposed parts were shaved. She walked away, coming back with a tube and a bag full of fluid that she hung from a pole. The label read "Enema". Beverly explained, "Gotta clean you inside and out. First I'll get you lubed up". She grabbed a metal syring, inserted the tip in my ass, and injected me with lube. At the end of enema tube, there was a detachable nozzle with two inflatable bulbs. One was forced in my ass and both were inflated, locking it in place. I could see the tube going from the bag to inside me. I felt like I was being treated like an animal already. She turned a valve, the fluid began flowing and filled me up. She set a timer for 35 minutes, and sat on her stool, reading cosmo. After an agonizing wait, she removed the nozzle plug, allowing me to release. Finally, thank goodness. I was soaped up again and rinsed. She cleaned up the enema nozzle plug, added more lube, and shoved it back1 inside me. "Putting this back in so we dont have any potential leaks" she said, as she inflated it. She disconnected the outside end of the inflatable nozzle where it attached to the longer enema tube, clamped it off, and let go of it. I felt it bounce around as it settled. "You're all set" she exclaimed.
I was wheeled on the cart-like table through a long, busy hallway to a different room for inspection. I could feel the protruding nozzle plug in my ass flop around as the cart moved. The other employees stared as I went by, a few smiled with satisfaction. How humiliating I thought. I heard murmuring. "Bitchtied pervert getting what he deserves!" one girl said angrily.
Finally in the inspection room, I waited. The door opened, Beverly entered with two blondes behind her, my mom and my sister. The two gorgeous sluts were dressed similar. My mom was wearing tight, denim, high waisted shorts that displayed her ass and curvy hips, they were pulled-up high in a way that you could see the denim tight against her twat. My sister came dressed in super short spandex yoga shorts, tight ones that lifted her already firm butt into perfection. Both wore crop tops with their stomachs and matching naval piercings exposed. Images of my sister's sloppy pussy flashed in my head, my cock and balls both swelled. I stared at their bodies and let out a loud, desperate moan as my cage grew excruciatingly tight.
Part 3 to follow...

Helena - Courtlady of Lannisport

Part 1

Reddit Account: SunstriderAlar
Discord Tag: u/SunstriderAlar
Name and House: Helena
Age: 22
Cultural Group: Westerman
Appearance: Helena is a young woman with soft doe-eyes, and unmistakable curling, golden hair. Raised by smallfolk, and Septa’s she wears her hair up and away from her face to ensure she does not let it get wet while cleaning or in her mouth while singing. She has delicate, porcelain, pale skin and cloudy soft blue eyes. No taller than 5’5” and is most often dressed in conservative simple fashions gathered by herself, or more elegant options gifted to her by a doting patron for formal events. Never shy to present her opinion, Helena has seen the world change, and her place in it numerous times. She is unafraid to do what she must, but knows the role of a woman.
Helena prefers to wear blue and yellow, the colours of Lord Swyft’s old sigil even though she has not lived in Cornfield for many years, and has no personal attachment to the house. Her real love though is unique broaches, and hairpins, different pins reveal different favours or stylings for different lords. She does enjoy crafting dresses as well, when the rare bolt of fabric comes her way she enjoys sewing and tailoring. She is often seen carrying a unique wooden six stringed lyre, or a three stringed lute; the former the cause for her name the Six Eyed Singer. She daps herself with lavender water most mornings, and cleans her teeth with mint, and rose now that she is employed by the Lannisters of Lannisport. Clean teeth are the hallmark of a charming, easy smile to make hearts of men and women alike flutter.
Trait: Elusive Shadow
Skill(s): Espionage, Devious, Schemer, Covert, Rumourmonger
Talent(s): Storyteller, lyre playing, deft fingers
Negative Trait(s): N/A
Starting Title(s): The Six-Eyed Singer, Septa Morgan, Jinny of Aegon’s Rest
Starting Location: Opening event

Part 2: Biography

Swyft Sept (3AC - 15AC)
Helena’s early life began in the Sept of Cornfield where her mother begged the Septa’s to take her. Dutifully, though reluctantly, they agreed, for what else were they to do, and where else was the girl to go. To the Governess of Cornfield, under the sanctity of the confessional, the woman, aching from the pain of birth and shame, confessed that the little girl was the bastard of Lord Swyft. The Governess, doubtful but knowing the man was not without vice, kept the secret to herself and allowed the girl to remain. The woman, who’s name was never revealed even to the Septa's, fled into the night shortly after never to be seen again. Helena was then, as promised, raised by the septas and the Governess of House Swyft. She learns basic literacy from the Seven Pointed Star with the Sisters and numbers from the Governess. Alongside her studies, she was put to work on chores like maid work, baking, cooking, cleaning, and serving Lord Swyft.
In 11AC, a travelling minstrel named The Lying Lyre arrived at Cornfield. A dashing young man with a shock of blonde curls that tumbled down his back like a mullet captivated Helena with his songs of far-off lands and noble families. In particular he sang of the Maiden’s Bay Tourney, the feats of House Targaryen, and after some time the Field of Fire and the failings of House Lannister. House Swyft was wealthy, and the Liar’s talents earned him much and more coin from the silver mines.
Helena of an age where curiosity ruled a child’s mind was enamoured with the man and his songs. She took up practising the lyre with him, and discovered that while no maestro, she had deft fingers and a mind for lyrics. Impressed by her interest and talent, the Liar gifted her a lyre before he left for future profits in far off lands. Some years of practice though, and a natural storyteller and rumourmonger Helena combined tales of the Seven Pointed Star and was invited to sing in the sept and even twice for Lord Swyft.
Six Eyed Singer (15AC - 20AC)
It was not to last though and following the slaughter in the Kingswood, the line of House Swyft was extinguished. Not wanting to test the new residents of Cornfield, the Warriors Sons and Poor Fellows, after all, all men have vice, she left Cornfield, and took to singing on the road. Going under the name Lyrebird, Helena played and sang for her coin and lodgings, a young girl protected only by being seen when she wanted and an elusive shadow when she did not.
Times on the road were not easy and The Lyrebird drew much attention. This necessitated the need for another alter ego and after a year on the road and towns and villages through the West were soon visited by the travelling Septa Morgan. The Septa heard confessions and sins, gave forgiveness and offered small advice to the poor and needy. She spared coins where she could and allowed Helena to remain covert. It did not matter to most that she was no real septa, she wore the robes, knew the words, and offered as a good moral compass to children. For most in the far flung reaches of the West she was enough.
Being raised in the faith though telling a perpetual lie about being a sister of the cloth was a little too much to bear for Helena. After a year with the reputation of Septa Morgan growing through the small folks of small villages, the Septa soon faded away. Instead Jinny of Aegon’s Rest started coming to smaller castles; Turnbury, Redbramble, Parren Hall, Oldstars and the like. She took on odd jobs cleaning, cooking, teaching a daughter to read or a son to do his numbers. She was after all no threat, knew her letters and numbers herself, and was capable of scheming many a septa or fatherly gatesman to let her in.
Jinny of Aegon’s Rest became a traveller through the keeps of the Westerlands. She heard the tales from children and small folk alike. She had never meant to undertake espionage, but her place inside various courts across the land, and her talent for being in the right place at the right time meant she was an unfortunate witness to many a courtly intrigue. As her small gifts earned her again a broad reputation she would be traded between greater lords. Soon she was playing for the elite, and earning the rewards that came with it. Helena of Cornfield once again took a new name, the Six Eyed Singer, which she quickly used to escape her courtly life and take again to the road as a travelling minstrel.
The Strawberry Tourney and Ball (20AC - Current)
The Six Eyed Singer formed a little bard troupe, nothing extravagant, she wasn’t playing for the Lannisters or the Targaryen’s yet, but enough to provide several shows across the Westerlands, Reach, and former Kingdom of the Trident. Her troupe, much like she had been accidentally, was devious, and while she or they sang, pockets were pinched, and many houses were looted. Her troupe when apart played for all the minor and middle nobles of the Trident and of the Reach too now. She and they were as much a part of the debauchery of the West as any of the wealthy merchants. There was no party too scandalous, no whorehouse unsung, no court too far flung for the right price and the West had gold burning through pockets.
The Six Eyed Singer was not the only bard with a troupe though and soon through the Kingdoms after Aegon’s conquest artisans, bards, and mummers alike filled the world with talent. In 20AC the Songbird made its mark, and with a little bit of fun, a lot of resentment for nobility, and an ingrained childlike sense of chaos, the first of the Songbirds’ letters sang. The voice of the little people flooded across the western coast of the Iron Throne. Lord Belaerys’ dragon had eaten several children whilst growing fat and hungry. Lancel Lannister had claimed the maidenhood of his chambermaid, and sired a bastard all at the age of just fifteen. Lord Frey schemed against his overlord for a free and independent Trident once again. Was all of it true? Impossible to say, but there were enough truths to turn heads, and the songs of the Songbird began to cause chaos in the Westerlands most of all. The Six Eyed Singer and her troupe played through it all, they were bards, but the Songbird was the most famous one of all; not their little merry band.
The Six Eyed Singer though continued her good work, and with her reputation came an invite to participate at the Strawberry Tourney and Ball alongside the other bardic troupes of the West and Reach. She was not so famous as to be alone, merely enough to earn an invite, and a paid job. The planning was years long, and with new songs and tunes came new rumours. While the Six-Eyed Singer played songs such as Fleece-eye, Dornish Sour Grapes, and Lion of the West, the Songbird worked their chaos.
A ripple pulsed through the tourney, first a cheater in the joust was revealed, Ser Byron who was disqualified as a result. Then a second cheater, this time in the melee, then a third cheater again in the joust Lord Payne had accepted a bribe from Lord Reyne to fall early. Cheating in the tourney was just the start, cheating in the bedroom of the ball was the main affair. Here the Songbird revealed three affairs; Lords Serret and Lyden were both fathers to children on women , not their wives. While Lady Serret and Lady Ruskin were bedfriends behind their husbands’ backs. There was one final scandal though, which was revealed to all at the tourney. Septon Karron was no true anointed Septon, and worse there was legitimacy to foulness surrounding young boys who served him.
The chaos broke over the tourney and all the artisans in attendance were forced to flee. Yet, all was not lost, for Lord Gerold Lannister of Lannisport had taken his eye to Helena and her playing. He offered her a job, for he wished to be a great sponsor of art in the new Seven Kingdoms. So it was she came to a courtly position, advising the Lord Lannister on matters of fine art, musicians, mummery, and all manner of artisanal dealings.
Timeline
3AC - Helena is born in the Sept of Cornfield, her mother a woman from Silverhill who begs the septa’s to take the girl in. She reveals her identity to the Governess of House Swyft, and claims the child is Lord Swyft’s bastard. She leaves shortly after giving birth and recovering.
4-10AC - She is raised in the cloister with the sisters, her Septa mothers raising her lessons on reading from the Seven Pointed Star, and numbers from the Governess to ensure that she can do basic arithmetic. She takes basic lessons in scullery maid work, baking, and general service work for old Lord Swyft.
11AC - A travelling minstrel, The Lying Lyre, comes through Cornfield to sing songs of the tourney of Maiden’s Bay, House Targaryen, and the Field of Fire. He takes a liking to the young Helena, and gifts her a lyre. He stays in Cornfield for some time, both because it is lucrative and because he enjoys teaching the young girl.
12-14AC - The Lying Lyre departs Cornfield but leaves a talented and hardworking Helena with the sisters once more. She takes to singing sections of the Seven Pointed Star, and even performs for Lord Swyft a few times.
15AC - The House of Swyft dies out and Helena, unaware of her claimed parentage but with a talent for song leaves the cloister and takes to the road, not trusting the new Warriors Sons or Poor Fellows. She uses the name Lyrebird and sings and plays her lyre for coin to survive.
16AC - After a year on the road Helena takes up the name Septa Morgan and takes to hearing confessions of the poor and needy across the Westerlands. Many of them need guidance and wearing her septa robes she is the perfect person to hear them. She is no real Septa but no amount of explaining the technicality of that stops people asking her to forgive them.
17AC - Her reputation as Septa Morgan grows a little too heavy on her shoulders, and Helena takes to wearing more common clothes, moving from keep to keep and working as a barmaid, scullery girl, and baker amongst other professions. She goes by the name Jinny of Aegon’s Rest.
18AC - Chance takes its favour on her, and Helena with her simple lyre is invited to play at a feast in Lannisport. Dressed now as a travelling minstrel she performs for the gathered nobles and earns herself invitations to other keeps. With her generous benefactors she hires a small troupe to perform her songs across the West.
19AC - Travelling the Westerlands, Helena under the moniker The Six Eyed Singer, takes her talents for being present at feasts and gatherings of all sorts.
20AC - Rumour of The Songbird takes hold, and the West is awash in the voice of the little people.
21AC - The Strawberry Tourney and Ball unfolds and Helena’s skills earn her favour with Lord Gerold Lannister.
22AC - Lord Gerold Lannister recognising her many talents picked her up to be one of the primary serving women in his House. His eye for artistic endeavours endeared him to her enough for a comfortable place as a favoured bard, painter, educator, and common court woman.

so for context, i (18f) am bisexual and definitely have a preference for women and my boyfriend (19m) is 100% aware of this and respects it. this will make sense later i swear; so let's call my boyfriend bob to make this easier. bob has only ever been in one serious relationship before this one, they apparently were quite "toxic" and were on and off for 3ish years.
me and bob have been dating for just over a year and it's been great. besides him getting mad over me and multiple female friends getting in our male friends car to get from point A-B or to simply go for a drive since we live in a pretty small town. mind you, these aren't just random male friends -they're 2 people we have known way before i knew my boyfriend existed and we have never flirted or had any romantic connection in any way. i never thought anything was wrong with this until bob said it made him uncomfortable that other men were driving me around (he also didn't have a license at the time)
as he's always treated me well and i respect him, i stopped going out for rides with these guys and continued with going out on the weekends with the girls. but almost every time he would pick a guy or two that went to the function and ask me a million questions about them and act as if i was interested or if the guy was around me. what really annoys me about this is that he knows i am pretty easily 'off-put' by most men and my preference for women. the amount of men he has told me to remove as followers etc… even my plug😭
he has NEVER raised even the slightest suspicion about girls im around or new female friends i make, but any new male he gets super uptight about. i have never cheated on him let alone anyone and I've actually been cheated on in the past, so i know the pain and i could never do that to someone which bob is also aware of.
i don't use snapchat, i barely post on socials, this is actually my first post here (yay??) and id let him sift through my phone if he asked. despite this, he looked through my phone one night after i was knocked out from a 10 hour shift and all he found was personal messages from my two (17f, 18f) best friends. i was super upset about this but let it go eventually. now, i felt really bad for doing this; a few (maybe 3) months later i couldn't sleep and was watching netflix on my laptop and his phone charging next to me started ringing about 2 calls before i picked up and it was just bobs (19m) best friend wanting something from bob. i let the best friend know he was asleep and that i'd get bob to call in the morning.
instead of switching his phone off, i started looking through the almost 300 friends he had added on facebook. i found his ex, PLENTY (mostly) females and got so upset. since he still had his ex added i got suspicious and looked through his notes where he has a list made WHEN DATING ME with a code of the nsfw activities he's done and with who. it was disgusting and my name was of course in there.
then, recently he "didn't plan" to run into these two females with his mate who has a crush on one. apparently the 4 of them sat in a park together and "talked" and when telling me about it said "don't be mad" when these are random girls he barely knows and i've cut off males i've been friends with since middle school.

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

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

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

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

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

I am NOT the Original Poster. That is u/Remarkable_Treat_636. He posted in AmItheAsshole
Trigger Warnings: miscarriage; depression; addiction
Mood Spoiler: tentatively hopeful ending?
Original Post: May 6, 2024
I (20m) and my sister (23) have been very close since she lost her baby. She lost the baby at the end of 2022, when she was about 5 months pregnant. Obviously our whole family was shocked and very supportive initially. However I really tried to help her through this and get her back on her feet. Coming to her apartment to clean, and cook her food. It also doesn’t help that her baby daddy left shortly after. My sister was unable to work because of her depression, so my family would help chip in and pay her bills. She remained like this for about 7 months when my parents told her that they couldn’t no longer support her, when all she does is lay in bed (and smoke a lot, like 24/7, but they don’t know that), and that she at least needs to look for a job. She lashed out and said she needs their support now more than ever. Regardless of them, I began to solely supporting her. Mind you I still live with my parents and attending school.
That brings us to last Friday, I have about 3 semesters left of school and money has been getting tight. I told my sister that I really need to start saving, and that she needs to get a job, or just move back in. She lashed out on me, saying that I could never understand (100% true) and that I was a terrible brother for even mentioning it. I said excuse me? I’ve paying for your bills for over a year, and have been the only one trying to help her get over this. She began yelling at me and calling me terrible names. I just snapped and said idgaf about her dead baby. I did none of this for that baby. I helped her because I love my sister, I want what’s best for my sister, I want her to recover. I told her this and just she started attacking me. I just left.
The next morning my parents sat me down, and told me what I said was very wrong and rude. I explained what happened and how I still continued paying her bills after they stopped. They just were quiet, and then just left. My mother grabbed my shoulder and told me that my sister started apply for jobs.
I really feel bad, but also to a certain degree it worked and she is at least looking to work. I know my sister will forgive me eventually but I still feel bad. AITA?
Relevant Comments:
Commenter: You shouldn't have said you don't care about the baby... but. But she was clearly in a hole she had no intention of climbing out of, and sometimes the only way to help people like that is to toss in a stick of dynamite and blast them out, which is precisely what you did. The question is how much did it help, and I have a feeling the answer is "not a whole lot".
ESH, especially your parents for essentially letting your sister vegetate in a pot of grief rather than get her into some kind of counseling or therapy.

OOP: Yk you bring up an off topic point. She has been in therapy since shortly after losing her baby. So I’m wondering why the therapy has had no progress and how is her therapist just fine with her like this, without offering additional help. Idk sorry
OOP clarifies in a different comment: Btw I have paid for my sister therapy (off and on) since she lost the baby. And solely after my parents cut her finically

Commenter (downvoted): Are you a child? You have to be if you think therapy is a cure all. Many folks spend the rest of their lives dealing with problems in therapy.

OOP: No, personally I don’t think therapy is for everyone. But it’s annoying thinking how I paid for her appointments to see no progress.

Commenter: Just because you don't see it doesn't mean it isn't there.

OOP: Yeah but when you pay for it for a little less than a year, you’d want to see some progress. Idk I’m not mad at her, rather the waste of money I used on therapy. Regardless I’ll see her tonight and I’ll ask if she feels any improvement from the therapy

Deleted Commenter: Even if there is 1% improvement, it should be worth it. Something like this can take months or years of forever. YTA for expecting grief to be 'fixed' with your set time limit and talking about 'wasting money' when you claim you spend money out of love. You also probably ruined her progress of getting better by what you said to her.While I get that it's frustrating on your end financially, there are better ways to express that. Perhaps you might need therapy as well.

OOP: I think my tone was off. Honestly idc about the therapy or even paying for it. In my mind I rationalized the price of the therapy for the improvement of my sister. But when you see that price it just looks terrible when you don’t see improvement in over a year. I’m not mad at her or the therapist, just aggravated yk?

Commenter: I’m going to be the odd ball and say yes AH, with that being said I totally get why you snapped but as someone that has miscarried before it was the most painful thing I had ever gone through.

OOP: Hey don’t feel odd or outcast of your opinion. All the comments benefit me and help reflect.

OOP ends with:
My sister going to come for dinner, where we will fs talk about what happened. If you guys are interested in an update lmk.
OOP is voted ESH- everyone sucks here
Update Comment: May 7, 2024 (Next Day)
UPDATE
I am very thankful for all the women who shared their experiences and gave me an insight on how my sister is feeling that I would’ve never been able to have. For that I am extremely grateful.
My sister came over for dinner, we didn’t make much contact in the beginning. Our parents didn’t try to make us talk nor bring up our last argument. Dinner was very awkward with very little conversation. We finished eating and my parents left to clean the mess. Which left me and my sister, we made some small talk when I just offered to go outside to talk.
Once we were outside I immediately apologized for what I said, but she cut me off before I could finish. She said she was thankful for me and everything I have done for her. We continued to talk till it was late. She brought up how she applied for 3 jobs in our area. We ended our conversation talking about how stuff happens and sometimes you can only do anything besides pick yourself and move forward , and try not to look back. She hugged me, (no tears) said thanks and left.
I will still continue to pay her bills till she gets back on her feet. The bad blood seems to be gone. At this point I’m not sure if regret what I said, but the damage doesn’t seem impactful. I appreciate all the people who commented.

For context: I was born into a failing family. My dad is a rageful alcoholic with food addiction and hoarding issues. He could be cold and cruel. My mom fluctuated and is inconsistently reliable. At her best, she is warm, nurturing and funny. But she can be vulnerable, manipulative and controlling or distant and in-her-own-little-world at times as well. My elder sibling was resentful of any attention I received and bullied me regularly. When we were very young, my elder sibling violated my physical boundaries intimately in a way I believe left me with long-term fallout that my parents failed to notice due to their self-absorption.
In early childhood I was "painfully shy," even going so far as to hide under furniture when family or friends would visit. I failed my preschool screening not because I could not answer the questions correctly, but because I refused to speak to the person administering it.
We had a turbulent childhood--a messy divorce between our parents, during which we were more pawns than kids, and so much moving around I lose track of how many times I was "new kid." When I started getting bullied for seeming gay (I wasn't out yet, even to myself) in high school my parents didn't notice, even though I went from A student to failing list one semester.
In those preteen years, I started seeing a ton of doctors for what my mom believed was physical distress but what I clearly felt was mental. I went on and off of tons of anxiety meds and antidepressants, but eventually tapered off when I went to college.
Though I flourished as much as was possible for me in college, I was still basically living a half-life. An obsessive amount of worrying went into all the possible ways of humiliating myself. I had very pathological plans to make it to "safe" bathrooms. I went through a huge amount of panic when the university suggested that they might require me to live on campus and share a room (I got out of it). I could not take the kinds of jobs my friends were working in retail and restaurants, only a campus job with very few hours and very little pay because it allowed me to dip out before the panic set in and reasonable access to a bathroom.
When I went to grad school, things got even worse. Insomnia set in. The only night I was guaranteed a full sleep was Friday because I had no obligations on Saturday. I wandered through life as a zombie, clumsy, foggy and with extremely heightened fight-or-flight due to the sleep deprivation. Sometimes I would call in sick because I could not operate my vehicle. In classes where all graded assignments were written, I got straight As. My only Bs came from classes with midterm and endterm final exams, because I was in such a panic being wedged in between two people in silence for three hours that I would not be able to devote my full attention to the exam.
I collapsed and had to return home, where I languished for a year or so. I returned to academia, where I clung on by the skin of my teeth for several years but it was the same exact story: caught between a deep loneliness and desire for belonging and a deeper fear of rejection and utter discomfort in social settings. The insomnia returned and I burned out.
I have been in therapy three times. Once for several months between stints in academia. Once during a grad program to help cope. And most recently for two years during my second languishing period.
I am horrified by how long I've struggled with "launching." I've been seeking help for this life-ruining social anxiety problem since I was a preteen. People have known I have had a deep fear of others since I was a child. It has been so terribly lonely and there have been low moments I've felt so hopeless about ever being to sustain a life in the ways that matter that I have called hotlines. This has probably been fewer than five, but it's been happening since I was eighteen or nineteen.
I feel like every resource I visit underestimates how pervasive this is in my life. If I am correct, the pervasiveness and enduring nature of something like this is precisely what makes it a personality disorder. This has been permanent for me, and even the most recent two years of therapy have not budged me much. Yet no authority has ever made an official diagnosis, not even for anxiety and depression.
It stresses me out, because I can see the severe consequences of this and I worry at times they're endangeirng my very life, but all authorities seem to be somewhat dismissive or act like what I'm going through is typical and something everyone deals with. I'm not insured, so if an emergency happens I'm probably broke for life. I was considering my situation today. I'm wearing glasses with one leg broken off because I can't afford to replace them. I haven't had my hair cut since Christmas because I live in a small town and don't want to answer personal questions from the barber. I have about one pair of jeans and a hoodie that fit. The last time I went to the dentist they said I had bone loss because I wasn't visiting enough. When I get sick I try to wait things out because I'm both terrified of being in public, answering employment questions to the receptionists and also because I can't afford it.
At what point does it stop being "shyness" or even social anxiety? When can we admit that this is something worth naming?
I came across this subreddit via the comments section of a post linking to an article about AvPD. The article discussed the disorder and how it was understudied. It profiled some people who'd been diagnosed with it, and I have never related to anything so much in my life, especially the paradox of wanting to belong but sabotaging all attempts to try. I cried when I read it and came here immediately.
Anyway, I'm sorry for the novel. If you've made it this far, thank you so much for letting me vent. I suspect many people on this sub might be people like myself who simply haven't had doctors, therapists or psychiatrists who recognize how extensive this pattern goes. I hope you all are able to find full care that treats all the many manifestations of this terrible thing we're struggling with.

So I’ve now watched about 3 of the perth wildcats games just looking at Alex Sarr, and I’m probably going to watch a bunch more before the draft, but I wanted to talk about a couple under-discussed aspects of his game and his fit with the team:

1. While he screens a lot, and often rolls, Alex Sarr is not a lob-catcher. So far I don’t think I’ve seen him roll to the rim hard to catch a lob once. He’s far more likely to short roll, catch a bounce pass, then pull up for a mid range floater.
   
2. He runs the floor HARD. Young clint capela vibes. If we want to play to his strengths we need to play with pace. Last year we were 11th in pace. I think we need to play faster.
   
3. Not a primary rim protector, far better as a weak side shot blocker a la Giannis or a switch defender who “gets beat” and gets the backside block.
   
4. Really nice defensive instincts and positioning, great nose for the ball. Biggest defensive flaw IMO is that he has a tendency to ballwatch when he’s off ball, so occasionally he’ll get back cut or lose track of the correct rotation.
   
5. Spends a LOT of time in the dunker spot, clogs up the paint a bit. Didn’t show a lot of the “attack off the catch” model that e.g. Chet does.
   
6. Some really nice passing flashes when attacking a tilted defense but not a developed passing game yet. He can make the skip pass read on the short roll which is nice.
   

All in all, I love this dude on the hawks, but he needs to be brought along slowly and used in the right way or he won’t work.

So i only finally got my first Fully-awakened Weapon+Terminus-like+Warpath with Twen a few days ago and certainly enjoying how Proto bahamut and Behemoth runs feel alot faster, though its certainly driving home the half burn out i feel on the `grind` still, even when i only do a few runs a day.
So thought it be neat to maybe see what some others might want out of the game before they feel its a `complete` game overall.
Just to start off the list here`s a few i feel it could really need, especially would of been nice day 1 of the game: -Proud mode versions of the Primal Beasts and Tayu`itar: I spammed about it multiple times already around the reddit for this game, but I`m sure many would agree that its half a pain to get multiple copies of dread-tails, sequester manes, Tayu`itar head units and Ukar units. Problem aint present with the Avia Commanders thanks to Wolf and Veil.
-Probably over-used, but a Rogue-lite mode or a `Proper bonus reward system` might be nice, maybe to replace quick quest itself: Since i seen plenty, including myself complain there`s nothing really to justify the grind one has todo even after acquiring the `base stuff` of a good sigil combination or put all the effort into fully awakened a weapon. Plus how sparse the end game feels since its just boiled down to Proto Bahamut, then Lucy and now Behemoth, which even if the latter feels way more interactive and you dont have bosses constantly spamming either cutscenes or being out of range causing forced fixed down times of no damage or SBA generation...
...Well them doing something to FIX a problematic mode that had the intention of doing multiple quests back to back for a goodie reward would of been kind of nice, especially since many games whether triple A or not seem to want to include a Rogue-lite every since stuff like Slay the spire popularized it and it fits into many genres. So just like how Dragon Quest: Infinite Strash started right off with a rogue-like for the sake of grinding levels/materials/etc. GBF: Relink could take a page from that or even how Warframe a f2p online looter-shooter made its diviri paradox into a rogue-lite gamemode of collecting buffs and getting more and more ridiculously powerful in that mode in particular.
In GBF: Relink`s case, this could simply be done where each quick quest could add a small resource & drop rate multiplier, which could probably either reset 24 hours after you did the first one or when doing a non-quick quest, and after 3 or maybe 5 quick quests it could gurantee a gold dahlia badge and give an additional chest till maybe it caps to giving 5 additional chest rewards (after say, 15 quick quests for that `24 hour period), every quick quest past that and a gold dahlia badge every quick quest. While having multi player double the rewards instead of guranting the badge and the tickets would just let you add +1 to it period, no online requirements at all so one can stop staring at 99/99 gold tickets in storage. Very least this way when the ability to play online for GBF: Relink can`t happen anymore, it would let it still work as a stand alone game.
As for how they could push it into a rogue-like mode, well, a solo only version of quick quests might be nice that maybe trade off chain bursts and link time by giving buffs as you progress that could serve as an alternative way to get dahlia badges and maybe push players to enjoy favorites more then `meta cheesies or something.` Probably be too much to ask for at this point, but if they were to suddenly take a Xenoblade chronicles 3 approach due to game popularity, i can totally see them re-rigging some content with some basic tweaks and easily adding a dozen or two dozen new kinds of buffs you get for running thru hyper scaled up versions of particular bosses and having things like movement speed buffs, break power buffs and more could even fix some issues in particular characters, make them feel awesome like most rogue-lite modes in many games do, even when the character itself is normally `bad` in the standard gameplay loop of said game.
-Quick-scrap during Transmute/marvel screen and max capacity of Vouchers when GBF:Relink team?: Deeeefinitely one of my earliest complaints because im sure even if its to match up with the cap of 30, on multiple transmutes, it would be nice while looking at the list of pulled sigils, if i could say, press Square on my PS5 controller and immediately scrap those back to vouchers, when i `exit` the results screen, like how a number of games have with similar `pulling` systems. With of course, i think it would be nice to loop around 400~ sigils per voucher cap stock instead of going back-forth every 40, even if multi-rolls cut the spam down from 39 `rolls` to only 2, even if it might of been smoother to let us have a button to just roll as many time as we have vouchers instead.
-With just to finish things up, probably a more tuned up filter system: This is more of a minor gripe but it would be nice if i could select a specific sigil effect so i can only see sigils of that specific type. Despite the fact they have icons to SLIGHTLY differ certain effects(Too bad thats not the case with all so its a dissonance design headache with that), its still a bit of an eye-sore when i could be checking 10 or more sigils of a specific category. Especially if im say, wanting to only look at my sigils with Critical hit rate to drag out a particular combination i want to optimize-match up a build without overlap issues.
Anywho, what else do you guys think the game could use, if we are guranteed further updates, even if they will be `unplanned` after 1.3.1, which as far as im aware of, outside of impossible Lucy and Sandy, is mostly just additional character improvements and transmutation Synthesis, which we still have no idea what kind of resources it will require, if it will be locked behind defeating impossible lucy first and if it will be more unreasonable by requiring something like 10 copies of a sigil with a specific effect to `allow` you to remove the secondary effect on a sigil to replace it with the one you want from the 10 copies.
Probably wont be that extreme, but its likely not gonna be as simple as Transmarvel i would think, to force people to keep having to burn vouchers for `sigil fodder` atleast...

I've been really aroused all day. I'm only on day 4 now. But I honestly don't think I've gone one day with jerking off at least twice in the last 10 years so this is actually huge for me.
Holy fuck I have some bad cramping though. It's not in my balls. It feels like it's my spermatic cords and it travels up to my gut. I've been cramping for the past 6-8 hours. Anyone experience similar pain?