Hi all. I wanted to post my story here and ask for people’s input as I have not had much luck, as expected, with the medical field. I am a 37 year old male, 6’3” and 200 lbs. Previous to what I now assume is long covid I worked about 4-5 days a week lifting weights and doing cardio. I could run about a 7 minute mile for a baseline fitness reference. I’ve been pretty fit all my life and have a history of high altitude mountaineering that I’ve slowly backed away from.

I tested positive for Covid for the first time on Dec. 17th 2023 and had a moderate experience with it. I had a 102 fever for 2 days with flu-like malaise feelings, but had no apparent respiratory symptoms. After the fever portion I felt completely wiped for about 3 days and walking around was tough, although not from a breathing perspective. I just felt like my muscles were not making ATP and were incredibly weak / under responsive. I got both initial doses of the vaccine and the first booster, but unfortunately missed the bivalent. I scheduled it but CVS canceled my appointment and due to a busy life (new baby etc.) I didn’t prioritize it. I had not had a vaccine in over a year when I got Covid and assume I was fairly unprotected unfortunately. After the 3 days of feeling wiped, I seemingly made a full recovery and went back to exercising, power-lifting, throwing my 30lb son on my back and going for hikes etc. I did not seem to have any problem with this sort of exertion. On Feb. 28th (2 months and change from Covid onset) I woke up in the middle of the night with chest pain and tightening. After I stood up and felt like I was having a hot flash I got real weak and sat down on my bed and decided to call the ER with the thought I might be having a heart attack as I had never experienced the sensations I was feeling at the time. I was taken to the ER in an ambulance and my blood pressure was 170 or something high but settled more towards normal in the hospital and Iattribute it to anxiety over the situation. I got an EKG, troponin test, chest x-ray, blood/metabolic panel and was released saying there was nothing emergently wrong with me. 

The week following this visit was absolutely hellish for me and I went to urgent care and the ER again for the following symptoms: Muscle weakness and a feeling like I was going to drop dead, numbness in toes and feet, a general feeling of disorientation and balance/coordination issues while walking, waking up all night with drenching night sweats and chills, absolutely crippling anxiety, (I have no history of mental health problems or anxiety. If anything I am way too lax of a person and let things pile up. Far from a worrier in general.), a feeling like my brain/scalp is on fire, random pains in my abdomen and chest, an absolute intolerance of temperature fluctuations with hot flashes (I could not take a hot shower and if I even took one, single sip of hot tea I would start sweating.) I am not exactly sure what people mean by brain fog but I think the fire feeling in my scalp/brain is not it because I do not seem to have any trouble concentrating or thinking.
At both urgent care I was rechecked via CBC/metabolic panels, chest x-ray and at the ER they did a viral panel, blood parasite screen, vitamin checks, a CT scan of the head, urinalysis and GFR screen and again nothing was found out of place except the Epstein Bar test returned with an equivocal result for the EBV Early AG IgG antibody. Every doctor seemed to think it was insignificant. My IgM (active infection) was normal and my other antibodies indicated past infection only. In doing my own research it seems the Early AG might be indicative of a latent reactivation but even an infectious disease doctor I saw said no.

Subsequent to this ER visit I continued to suffer these symptoms for 3 weeks and via my primary care got checked for HIV, TB, PSA, TSH, Sed rate, C-reactive protein, hepatic function panel, more CBC’s and metabolic panel, I saw a cardiologist and got an echocardiogram and they all found no problems. I had an MRI of my brain and thoracic spine (cervical denied) and they found no evidence of MS or problems with the exclusion of a small, single white matter lesion that my neurologist said is unremarkable but could have been caused by infection as I am young to have one and have no history of migraines or high BP. I was retested for Lyme via ELISA and Western Blot and checked for syphilis by the ID doctor. The neurologist tested me for various blood cancers and gave me an EMG. All of these tests were normal. I also had a sleep study and found mild to moderate obstructive sleep apnea that actually gets severe during REM sleep. I have been on a CPAP for 2 weeks and am not having any trouble with it. I’ve since concluded that the only explanation for my symptoms is long covid. My only point of consternation is that the symptoms I’ve described above largely abated after 3 weeks time and those initial 3 weeks felt extremely acute. After those 3 weeks, however, I’ve been left with general fatigue and weakness primarily in the legs, sleep disruption, and the feeling like my brain is on fire at times. I’ve gone on Zoloft and the anxiety portion seems much better after a month of being on 50mg. For a while the only way I could avoid significant sleep wake up’s was taking 50-75mg diphenhydramine at night but I’ve switched to a daily 10mg zyrtec and it seems to help with the sleep considerably (found many studies indicating antihistamine in LC treatment). Since I suspected long covid early on but was truly afraid I was dying of cancer or some demyelinating disease I started researching supplementation in the event that covid was indeed the culprit. I take 10mg of creatine a day, a multi-vitamin, fish oil, a probiotic with strains cited in the Hong Kong study on gut dysbiosis, inulin prebiotic, NAC morning and night, liposomal glutathione, lysine, 500mg vitamin C, niacin 100 mg 3 times a day, lactoferrin twice a day at the same time as zyrtec, nattokinase, zinc/magnesium glycinate at night along with chamomile tea and local, raw honey. I’ve also since switched to a mediterranean diet and eat a lot of extra virgin olive oil, and raw, un-dutched cocoa powder. I take 50mg zoloft, convinced my primary doctor to prescribe me Valtrex 500mg a day for some limited evidence in suppressing EBV replication, and a sleep doctor has me on 100-300mg gabapentin as needed (she wanted me to stop taking diphenhydramine for it’s anticholinergic effect and long term side effects on the brain). I’ve seen a tremendous improvement over those first 3 weeks I’ve described and I cannot emphasize enough how ill I felt and convinced I was going to die in the near future during that time period. I am not sure which of the above treatments are effective or if it is just time, but I also seem to have reached a plateau and do not notice any further improvement. Unfortunately, I do not seem to be able to exert myself without my legs feeling like they are turning to jelly after 15-20 minutes of walking. I can walk but anything further seems to induce that feeling of weakness. The general fatigue is also very limiting and the feeling of my brain being on fire on and off throughout the day is very frustrating. I have not read many LC stories that start so acutely months after covid and then abate to a really difficult but relatively manageable state that I described above. I am curious what people think and welcome any input as I get absolutely nothing from the medical field. 

If you haven't read about this whole thing yet, then you're lucky to read this from start to finish without interruption. Here's Part 1 of this whole thing!
If you haven't caught up with the last parts, here are Part 7: 1/2 and Part 7: 2/2!
Anyways, enjoy this first part of the finale!

Deep Sleep Reimagined (Part 8: 1/2)

CHAPTER 8: Moonlight
Flashback:
10 years ago, a little girl was out of bounds, wandering in the massive caverns outside of Playcare. She had no one to talk to, and none of the staff had any idea where she was. She only had a flashlight to brighten the path, but the surrounding darkness gave her little steps. No one was there, but someone was watching from afar. Someone concerned about her being lost.
Girl: (jittery) Is…Is anybody there?
Behind her back, a small rock falls, startling the girl as she points around her flashlight, but sees no one. She backed up a bit, only to bump behind a furry surface. When she shines at this “object”, she is greeted by a wide-grinning CatNap. She immediately tries to run away, but CatNap stops her calmly.
Girl: Who are you?!
CatNap: (normal voice, concerned) Hi! I’m CatNap! What are you doing out here?
Girl: P-Please…don’t hurt me–!
CatNap: Oh, no, I won’t hurt you. Have we met yet?
Girl: Um…no.
CatNap: You must be new in Playcare. You look really tired. It’s night time you know?
Girl: Oh, I’m…I can’t sleep well. (upset tone) I just miss my parents. They didn’t even say goodbye…
CatNap: Well, it’s hard if you miss something valuable. But that’s okay, (puts hand at the girl’s head) you have me!
The girl's fear slowly turned into a timid smile.
CatNap: If it’s hard to go to sleep, don’t worry. I’ll make sure to put you in a…DEEP sleep.
CatNap chuckles, while the girl felt more comfort
CatNap: Alright, nice meeting you, but you shouldn’t be here right now. (points at a small hole) Take that hole and you’ll end up straight up in your bed. Go! Before it’s too late.
Girl: (curious) Too late for what?
CatNap: Before the staff knows about this.
The feline walks towards the hole. He then looks behind her to call her in.
CatNap: (reassuring) Come on, little kid. I’ll lead the way…
Girl: O-Okay…
The little girl followed the cat mascot to safely go back to Home Sweet Home.
The flashback ends:
—————————————————————————————————
The artificial time of Playcare begins to turn night, and the place feels more lonelier than ever. You were in a state of deep sorrow, as all of your friends are presumably dead. You only think of one thing: revenge. And CatNap is the one you think is held responsible.
You: (vengeful) Ollie, where can I find CatNap?
Ollie: Wait, are you serious?! You can’t face CatNap by yourself. You need Poppy–
You: I don’t need Poppy, or anyone to help me! I’m going to fight him alone.
Ollie: (begging) Please, don’t do this! I don’t wanna lose any more friends to this place.
You: We already lost them…Hoppy was right. It’s all CatNap’s fault! He’s the reason all of these toys suffered in the first place. (crying) I wish I could’ve saved everyone…
Ollie: Well, he wasn’t always like that. (remembers something) Hey…Did you see the shrine?
You: (wiping tears off) What shrine?
Ollie: The shrine that’s in the caves. CatNap made it for The Prototype, with assistance from CraftyCorn. See, before CatNap turned into…CatNap, I guess there was some pretty serious accident. He almost died but…they say that The Prototype saved his life, giving up his own freedom in the process.
Hearing this, you feel conflicted. You know that this “Prototype” entity is evil, but you never thought that HE would save someone like CatNap.
Ollie: In CatNap’s eyes, the Prototype is his superhero, and has saved this place. So CatNap treats him like a god, killing everyone that opposes him. Us included, if we’re not careful. That shrine…Did it scare you?
You: Maybe…
Ollie: If you think that’s terrifying, just wait until you see the real thing.
You don’t know what to say.
Ollie: (changes topic) Anyways, we’re really close to the end. I sent you a new key. You’re going to the Counselor’s Office instead. It’s not ideal…but it should have enough juice. If you can get that generator going and plug it in…I think we’ll be done!
You: (sighs deeply) Okay, I’ll try–
Ollie: (warned) Oh, and keep your eyes open for CatNap. Every shadow and every flickering light is a hiding spot. He always stalks his prey first. He’ll take away anything you have to defend yourself. And when you’re at your most vulnerable…he’ll kill you. CatNap lives for the hunt.
Those words sent shivers down your spine. You don’t know why, but you felt like every corner and corridor you’ve entered felt like he’s watching you. The moment you progressed your way through every location to power up each generator felt like CatNap planned all along to hunt you. But something isn’t right.
You: But…he could’ve killed me right when I escaped the trash compactor. (angry) Why did he have to kill everyone else?!
Ollie: (thinks) Hmmm…Maybe The Prototype wants you to experience the horror?...Of you leaving the factory?
You thought in your mind that Ollie could be right. And CatNap could just be enjoying all of your indirect torments, and you feel more angered by it.
You: Alright, Ollie. I hope you call again this time.
Ollie: Sure thing! Good luck, talk soon.
As the call came to an end, you went down the room below the statues and got the key.
Meanwhile, back at the caverns outside of Playcare, Kissy Missy and Poppy were still lost in the caves. Kissy was beginning to feel hopeless, and Poppy noticed this.
Kissy Missy: Argh! Where’s the exit?!
Poppy Playtime: Let’s check the other direction.
Kissy Missy: (panicking) We went that way already! Let’s take the left. DogDay might need our help!
Poppy Playtime: Kissy, calm down! (softer tone) Calm down…
Kissy’s stress began to take over her as she sat down on the ground, but Poppy rubbed the fear on her head, which cooled her off.
Kissy Missy: I-I’m sorry. I’m just–
Poppy Playtime: Stressed?
Kissy Missy: Not only that. It’s also about Bobby. (sadder tone) Why would she betray us like that?
Poppy Playtime: There must be some kind of misunderstanding. (comforting) Just…pull yourself together, okay?
Kissy felt consoled by her, so she began to stand up, but as she did, she heard the voices of Picky Piggy coming from the walls.
Poppy Playtime: Do you hear that?
Kissy Missy: (gasps in realization) It’s her.
The two soon went to a little opening where there was a large cave. And there they see the enemy Critters. Picky Piggy was gathering the burnt bodies of Bubba Bubbaphant and KickinChicken. A bunch of the Ruined Critters were carrying what seems to be teared-off legs and the flesh of white skin. CatNap was pleased to see these huge accomplishments, And Picky, despite nearly dying to fill her stomach full, feels some regret for seeing the corpses and parts of the Critters.
Picky Piggy: (drooling) Finally, after all these years I can finally get a proper meal…I’m sorry, old friends, but you served your purpose. Mmmm…
Picky began digging in Bubba and Kickin’s flesh, abandoning her self-control. But CatNap shoves her away, making Picky fall off the hard ground. She was in confusion and fear as she felt his action.
CatNap: THOSE ARE RESERVED FOR THE LITTLE ONES.
Picky Piggy: But…B-But, sire, I’m still hungry. I need–
CatNap: DIDN’T YOU HEAR ME? THOSE ARE FOR THE LITTLE ONES
Picky Piggy: I…(stand up, angry) What about me?! I deserve to get a taste! I contributed to tracking the Critters down!
CatNap: YOU RELY TOO MUCH ON ME. I SAY YOU FEND FOR YOURSELF.
Picky then faced him head on, giving him a piece of her mind.
Picky Piggy: Listen here, CatNap! You promised me before that if I follow The Prototype, I would be fed…WHEN was that promise kept?!
CatNap: (frustrated) HOW DARE YOU DISRESPECT ME AND OUR GOD! THE PROTOTYPE IS ANGERED!
Picky Piggy: ARE YOU THE PROTOTYPE?!
CatNap: YOU HERETIC!
CatNap then scratches her head, causing it to bleed rapidly. In retaliation, Picky charges up to CatNap, which he quickly dodges by jumping up the ceiling. When Picky looks from above her, CatNap drops down and squashes her, while Picky picks her up with her back. With all her might, she lifts CatNap and throws him off, leading to CatNap hitting the wall. When he gets back up, he notices Picky’s miniature toy Critter of herself was carrying a blade to stab him. He remembered he was special to her, so she grabbed the mini Critter tight and threatened Picky in front of her.
CatNap: NOT ANOTHER STEP…
Picky was shocked, afraid of what he’ll do.
Picky Piggy: D-Don’t hurt it!
CatNap: I WILL! SO CHOOSE: THE LITTLE ONE DIES, OR TURN YOURSELF IN.
Picky Piggy: (pleading) NO! I can’t!
CatNap: THEN THIS ONE PERISHES.
CatNap begins crushing the little toy, which it started to squeal in pain. Suddenly, the sound like that of a metal contraption was heard, and when all of those in the cave turned at every corner, trying to find where that was coming from, they saw The Prototype’s claw at a large hole on the top wall of stone. Everyone was filled with awe and fear, and CatNap dropped the plush down to fall on his knees.
Picky Piggy: Is that–?
CatNap: MY LORD! YOU CAME!
It took a few seconds for The Prototype to speak, and when Kissy and Poppy saw this from their position, they were terrified.
Poppy Playtime: That thing…
The Prototype then spoke with different voices.
The Prototype: I see you have nearly achieved your goal, my child. But I’m not pleased about you destroying these other poor toys.
CatNap stared in confusion, having not understood what he complimented him.
The Prototype: I oblige you to let her live. You have one important thing to do, my servant, and that is to get rid of the intruder. (to Picky) As for you, I suggest you hunt the one you despise the most.
Picky Piggy: Are you saying…?
The Prototype: You know what you want…
As The Prototype’s hand leaves the scene, Picky remembers one toy that she wants to get rid off, so she grows confident about it.
CatNap: (shocked) I-I THOUGHT HE WOULDN’T WANT YOU ANYMORE.
Picky Piggy: (mocks) Guess again, CatNap! We both know that we’re just puppets, but if this is how I’ll do my bidding, then fine by me.
As Picky leaves for the tunnels, CatNap is mad at her, and deep inside he feels like the whole encounter was unfair, but he doesn’t want to question it. His faith in The Prototype remains strong.
When Kissy and Poppy witnessed this, they were deeply worried for you.
Poppy Playtime: (whispering) Kissy, we have to find them quick!
Both of them quickly went away to find you.
Meanwhile, you used the key Ollie gave you to open the door heading for the Counselor’s Office. You remembered what Ollie said about CatNap, but that won’t stop you from what you’ll do.
Through different turns on every hallway you went, you find yourself in dark paths, so you light up some flares with your Orange Hand. Upon making your way to a little corridor, at the end of it has a locked door, but with a hole open to the other side. It may be filled by the Red Smoke, but it was enough to see something inside. There was a battery across the room, but before you decided to grab it, there was also a small Bunzo Bunny Toy struggling to walk straight, but it fell helplessly. All of a sudden, the purple furry feline swoops in and grabs the little toy. You could almost miss this happening in a blink of an eye.
Now you’re a bit more skeptical on heading in further. You saw once again the killer who caused their deaths. But then again, you remembered a particular VHS tape back when you and CraftyCorn were in the playhouse. Something that you were conflicted about…
(Memory) VHS Tape:
Leith Pierre: (looking through papers) Okay…this is…CatNap. Uhhh…experiment #1188…(ask someone) What’s his real name again? (someone tells him) Ah! Okay. (clears throat, talks to CatNap) Heya Theo! How ya doin’ bud? Normally I’d have Dr. Sawyer do this but uhhh…out, let’s say. So you got me until they find his replacement. First off: Congrats! This is officially your 4th year in your new body. And you’ve made some real progress pal. I was told that when you and the other smiling critters, y’know, DogDay, Picky Piggy, yadda yadda yadda, were added into Playcare, that you weren’t really getting along too well with the kids like everybody else was. But look at you now! The kids love ya, and that red smoke. I mean–that’s fantastic, isn’t it?! (CatNap doesn’t reply) Is his uh, voice thingy still broken–
CatNap: (broken voice) THE PROTOTYPE WILL SAVE US.
Leith Pierre: (mad) Theo…Nobody’s gonna save you. This prison is where you belong. We’ll let you here and there to go see the kids in Playcare, but your home is here. And as for “The Prototype”, his home is in the labs. THIS is your life now. Get used to it.
(Memory) The tape ends.
That memory makes you sympathetic for these experiments. It clashes with everything that you thought of then and now, and you could go either way. You could turn back and leave the place, but deep inside you couldn’t avenge your friends. So when you grabbed the battery from the other side of that inaccessible room, you continued on.
—
A hallway here, another one there
With the Red Smoke almost everywhere
In the caves, there’s some puzzles to fix,
The environment doesn’t even fit with it
Entering an abandoned office,
You find another VHS tape
When you played it near a TV player
It reveals yet another false cape
The child supposedly meant for adoption
Was turned for testing instead
You know these experiments were indeed horrid
It was like they’re better off dead
In your heart these toys cry for help
In order to escape CatNap’s wrath
He caused so much pain from which he had
But now it’s time to take a new path.
—————————————————————————————————
It seems as if the complex machinery you’ve been fixing for the last moments ago felt out of place. But they’re nonetheless worth the time to fix what kind of mess appears out in the caves at the Counselor’s office. While crawling in a tight vent, the Red Smoke started to approach, and you put on your Gas Mask for protection. You drop down to another vent system, and again drop down. Upon opening the grilles, you went down a small corridor still filled of the Smoke. There were a few doors on each side, but some of them don’t have much to offer. On one door, though, there was a battery that you could see inside the room through the door’s window, so you went in.
Little did you know that someone was already behind you, like you never heard a sound of it coming.
When you exited the door, CatNap grabbed you, took your Gas Mask, and threw you to another room by sheer force. As CatNap closes the door, It causes a shelf to collapse behind it. You began to feel unconscious. Your Gas Mask is gone, and you begin to inhale the Smoke involuntarily as you fall into a deep sleep…
—————————————————————————————————
Dream sequence:
Poppy Playtime: (whispering voice) Find the flower. Find the flower.
There you were, standing at a road with the woods on both sides. You see at the distance the bright colorful abandoned factory under the darkened sky.
Poppy Playtime: This isn’t a place you came back from.
As you look around, the place fades as you were being traveled to a cave of red fog. Later, you find yourself at the entrance of the factory. The place you came in first.
Poppy Playtime: Do you have any idea what you’re doing?
No one was to be seen, and you were then flying in the red fog. You were hearing the joyful screams and voices of children, and soon enough, you were back in the hallways of the orphanage.
Poppy Playtime: Do you know what’s happened here?
You see in front of you a silhouette of two kids chasing each other. You looked behind, and there was a child sitting in the bed, and another one at the doorway. Again, you were flying in the red fog. The voices are getting louder and louder. And then, you were in a classroom at school.
Poppy Playtime: Do you know who we once were?
You see the children sitting in class, paying attention to the teacher. It seems like Miss Delight; possibly THE Miss Delight you were forced to kill. Again, you were flying in the fog, and then, you were in the tubes of the playhouse.
Poppy Playtime: Do you see why we have to end this?
You see two children on the same tube as you were in. They seemed happy, but before you could look around further, you went back to the red fog. Later, you were in a room in the Counselor’s Office.
Poppy Playtime: Do you even know what’s real?
At a table, there was a kid sitting in front of an adult. It seems like he was being chewed on, or a bunch of the staff talking to each other, but about what? Again, you were back flying in the red fog, but as you did, it slowly revealed a figure. Someone you recognized. Someone you encountered the first time you entered this place. It was Huggy, and he was smiling directly at you, with his one hand lifted on a waving sign. You don’t know what to do. You think Huggy might come and attack you like last time. But then Poppy spoke.
Poppy Playtime: No…you don’t.
At that moment, the sounds of an alarm were heard. Then, the people’s screams of fear and anguish surrounded you. Huggy’s image disappeared, and you were met with red lights flashing from the ceiling to the bottom. It was dark, and all you could hear was the tormenting cries. Looking behind, you see an empty platform to where Huggy used to be displayed. Moments later, a metallic claw appears, reaching down to grab you, but as you brace for it, it all fades to black.
It was all a dream.
The dream ends:
—————————————————————————————————
You open your eyes. You heard the phone ringing, but you feel exhausted as you find yourself still on the floor. Nonetheless, you gathered all your strength to pull yourself back up and stand. The phone keeps ringing, and as you picked up the phone, you were thinking it might be Ollie coming for the rescue, but to your surprise. It was the cat who attacked you, making a warning statement:
CatNap: LEAVE PLAYCARE, OR I’M COMING FOR YOU.
At this point, there was no turning back. You fixed up your GrabPack, took the battery and exited the room.

I've seen quite a few posts regarding getting caught in the act and thought I'd throw in my two cents worth. Dad, Daughter, and Dog The back screen door slammed shut as Kellie returned home from her evening jog. Her father Al sat in his easy chair behind his newspaper. That you, honey? Kellie snorted, It better be or there'll be trouble! Rex, her shepherd dog, made klik-klik noises on the linoleum with his nails. The two had been inseparable since he arrived in the house a tiny puppy. Can you come in the living room for a minute? Sure. She walked in lean and lithe, barely five feet tall, tiny breasts held in a sports bra and tank top, tight bottom in running shorts, her chestnut hair tied back in a pony tail. She had been an active child from the moment she could walk with ballet and gymnastic classes from her preschool years. Kellie had been only seven when her mother had died. That's when she took up running, although running to or running from, she was never quite sure. What is it, Dad? Al closed his newspaper, folded it, folded it again, and dropped it into his lap. He stared at it as he began. I wasn't sure how to say this until just now. He looked up into his daughter's eyes. I saw you go into the garage. Kellie froze unbreathing. She gripped the back of her father's chair to steady a light-headed swaying. What? Through the kitchen window. I saw you go into the garage a little while ago. While you were supposed to be out running. B-b-but I was out running! Her grip on the chair tightened. Maybe for twenty minutes. Then I saw you go into the garage. You didn't come out right away and I didn't know if something might be wrong, so I went out and looked in the window. You didn't even look up. You were too busy helping Rex gettin--. Kellie's knees gave out. She crumpled to the floor. Silent tears ran down her cheeks. Rex trotted over and licked her face. Honey, please don't cry. You're far too old to spank even if you were doing something wrong. He laid his hand atop her head. She slumped over to rest her cheek on the arm of the chair. Remember what I told you when your mother died? She nodded slightly. You said, 'you and me, pal.' I remember. That's right. And we have to be honest with each other, and trust each other, and love each other, no matter what. S-s-so you're not m-mad at me? She sniffled. Rex licked her nose. She gently pushed him away. No honey. I am *concerned*, which is a different thing. Why are you having sex with your dog out in the garage? She looked up smiling and weeping at the same time. Da-a-a-ad! she said as if he were telling the United States Congress that she still enjoyed playing with dolls and coloring books. Her cheeks reddened. Honesty and trust, remember? So, how long have you and Rex been... uh, fucking? He wasn't sure he should drop the F-Bomb into the conversation. He trusted that it felt right. Just a few months, ever since Barry and me broke up. Barry and I, he corrected without thinking. But why out in the garage? It's dirty and dank and I can't imagine it being much fun. She looked up at him wide-eyed. Honesty. And trust. She nodded. I thought I had to hide it because, you know, sex, um, fucking with animals, is so wrong. Having released her own F-Bomb in return seemed to remove tension from the air. It was all well and good to talk about open honest trust, but reluctance to use so-called bad words tended to dampen things. Wrong? I don't think so. You love Rex, and he loves you. If he didn't want to screw you I'm sure he would let you know, wouldn't he? He caressed her head, neck, and shoulder. If you don't mind my asking, who made the first move? Kellie giggled. He did. You know how horny he's always been. That night after Barry and me, and I, broke up, Rex came into my room and laid his head in my lap. He looked up at me with big eyes, like he knew how sad I was. He jumped up and started licking my face. I hugged him. I remember feeling his, um, his cock against me while I rubbed his back. He got down and I petted his head against my thigh for a minute when he suddenly started sniffing between my, around my pussy. I wasn't wearing any panties. When his tongue started licking me it all felt so good I couldn't shoo him away. I just sat there with my legs spread wide apart and let him do whatever he wanted. He licked me until I came. She sighed happily and laid a hand atop her father's on her shoulder. I think it was the best night's sleep I've ever had. The next night I thought I ought to return the favor so I tried to suck him. I really tried but Rex wouldn't cooperate. I tried to get his front paws propped on the bed while I sat on the floor under him. I tried coming at him from the side on all fours. Whenever he sat or laid down his cock seemed to shrink away. It was when I was on my hands and knees that Rex finally ran around behind me and licked me, then he hopped up onto my back, and I thought, 'Oh my God, he wants to fuck me!' and I knew I wanted to let him do it. He wrapped his front legs around me and I reached back to help him get his cock into my pussy. He thrust and humped and danced on his hind legs until I felt his hot cock slide into me. Mmm, it was so good! I don't know how long we kept at it. I came twice before Rex hopped off me. We didn't tie together that first time, though. I'd seen dogs in the street stuck together and I thought maybe I was bigger than a girl dog and he couldn't tie with me. She squeezed her father's hand in delight. Wrong! The second time we did it we tied and I thought I was in heaven. I just kept coming and coming! She looked up into her father's eyes and smiled. Oh Daddy, it's so good to be able to talk to somebody about this! Al bent down and kissed his daughter's forehead. Honesty, and trust, and somebody to talk to. That's why I'm here. That night Kellie came into the living room in her terrycloth bath robe, Rex as ever by her side. Getting ready for bed, honey? Sort of. Um, Dad, she began. He looked up. Her eyes sparkled and she had a saucy grin on her face. I was wondering, um, if you might want to watch me again. Watch you...OH! he said. He sucked in a quick breath and answered without hesitation, Yes, honey, I would. She grinned. She kept her eyes locked on her father's as she untied her robe, shrugged it off, and tossed it onto the couch. Well? She was naked, gloriously naked. Her tight little breasts were topped with small hard pink nipples placed unusually high. Her belly was flat. Her hips gently rounded. She kept her dark brown pubic bush cropped short, not shaved like so many girls. Al appreciated this. He didn't much care for shavers always thinking, who wanted to see a pussy that looked like it should have a diaper on it? Well? she repeated. He looked up from between her legs to her smiling face. You're beautiful, honey. Absolutely beautiful! Without conscious thought his right hand fell into his crotch and he began squeezing his hard cock through his pants. Kellie noticed what her father was doing. Her smile grew. You're not just saying that because you're my daddy? His eyes roamed up and down her body. He swallowed. I mean it. Honest. She glanced down at her father's busy hand. She bit her lower lip in delight before squatting down next to her dog. C'mon Rex, she whispered. She pushed her nose against his. She laid a hand on his neck. Rex licked her face twice before she opened her mouth to allow his long red tongue inside. Human and dog both whined softly in pleasure as they kissed. Kellie squatted with her thighs open, her pussy on display for her father as much as her own balance. After some eternal minutes she slid a hand down between her legs. She slid her fingertips up and down her pussy lips, teasing herself, teasing her father, wetting her fingers with her juices. She closed her mouth, turning her head away she touched his muzzle with her pussy-slick fingertips. Smell it, boy. Taste it. You want some more? Rex's tongue cleaned her fingers before he dropped his head down to nuzzle and lick her open pussy. Yes! That's it. Lick me, baby, lick me! Her father's eyes were glued to the activity between his daughter's thighs. His hand continued squeezing his hard cock through his pants. She studied his face. His lips were parted. His eyes were glazed. I've never seen a man masturbate before, Daddy. Take off your clothes for me. He stood quickly disrobing as if in a trance. Ooo! Your cock is beautiful! she cried when it popped into view. He seemed to come to. He looked into his daughter's eyes and smiled happily before he sat down again openly stroking his erection. Kellie reached between Rex's hind legs to grip his cock. He did a quick two-step dance. He stopped licking her pussy and tried to run around behind her. Are you ready to fuck me, Rex? she asked almost as much for her father's benefit as the dog's training. You want to fuck, yeah, fuck me now? She fell forward onto her knees and elbows with her ass raised high. She slapped her ass cheeks a couple of times. Get on. Get up! Time to fuck, Rex! Fuck! He understood those words, the insistent tone of desire in her voice, the heady smell of her sex, and the ache in his own. He lept onto her with his front legs wrapped around her waist as he humped his wet pink cock against her skin. His eager movements scored a hit after four tries, sending his bevel-tipped cock into the warm wet depths of her pussy as his thrusts began. That's it Max! Fuck me good! Yessss! Kellie wasn't accustomed to being quite so vocal with Rex. The fear of discovery was gone now. She found she enjoyed talking through her pleasure. God, baby, you're so...! Al croaked softly. His hand still stroked up and down his cock slowly and steadily. The head was becoming shiny. Slippery. His hand made little noises as he worked on himself. He looked at her face. She was staring at his hand on his cock. He knew she was watching him masturbate, something so intimate and personal he couldn't imagine anyone ever watching. Not even his wife, Kellie's mother, had ever seen him jack off. Of course he had never seen anyone fuck a dog, either. Daddy. Come here. Please. she gasped. I want. Your cock. Give me. Your cock! Suck! It! He stood of trembling legs to walk four steps before falling to his knees before her. He sat back on his heels. He scooted forward until the tip of his cock brushed her soft cheek. Kellie balanced on her elbows before gripping the base of his cock in one hand. She licked the head clean before engulfing it with her wet mouth. Al nearly screamed in delight. It had been a long time since anyone had blown him. His daughter was very good at it. He leaned back onto his hands. He gently began moving his hips to fuck her mouth. Kellie wrapped her arms around his waist, her little tits flattened against his thighs, her nipples like hot pebbles on his flesh. Al looked Rex in the eyes and winked at the dog as they shared the human bitch between them. It didn't take long before Al could feel the hot push growing in his belly. I'm gonna come, baby! Gonna come soon! She began sucking even harder, her head bobbing faster. She wanted him to come in her mouth. He could feel it building, building. Gonna! Come! Gonna...gonna! He fell back onto his elbows and thrust his hips up savagely to press his pubic hair against his daughter's lips as the first spurt of his orgasm exploded. She took it without a whimper before pulling her head back until only the tip of his cock was between her sucking lips then slamming her face down again, and again, and again, milking his cock with her mouth until he finally stopped. His body went slack for several minutes as he recovered. He watched her raise her head until his penis fell from her lips. She smiled with her eyes half closed She laid her head down on Al's lap for a minute moaning softly until the dog turned, standing quite still butt-to-butt, his cock now swollen tight inside her pussy. She breathed heavily through her open mouth. Oh! Com-ing! Touch! Me! Dad-dy! He caressed the back of her head, her neck, her shoulders. He reached down her spine as far as he could. He slid his hands beneath her to pull her hard nipples. Everywhere he touched her, she moaned and sighed happily, whispering, So good. So good. Coming. She remained tied to Rex for at least ten minutes before he pulled out and trotted off to lick himself. As soon as she was free, Kellie blindly crawled up her father's body. He worked his slightly stiff legs into a more natural position and together, father and daughter, they snuggled sweaty and satisfied with their life together. ...And They Lived Happily Ever After! Read more

Hello everyone… I am dealing with endo for 6 years but my gynecologist said after the surgery I’ve probably have it from my first period (which was 26 years ago, I am 39). I never have cysts, “only” adhesions which stick all my organs on the left side so before they open me (I did a classical 3 hours surgery, no laparoscopy) they thought I had a huge benign tumor because it how it looks on ultrasounds and MRI. Anyway, I wanted to ask does any of you also have just adhesions and how you dealing with it. I am afraid that it can show up on my diaphragm or my lungs, heart because sometimes I have a shortness of breath during my period. Does anyone have the same symptoms? I also have very painful ovulations (sometimes worse than my period), pain in my hips and legs, muscles, and I feel dizziness sometimes, not only during my periods and ovulations… So, it would be just easier for me to hear that I am not alone in this terrible symptoms. Thanks ❤️

Every year I put a different twist on my rankings. Show them a different way, account for some new bits of information. Highlight the guys that I have an unhealthy affinity towards while couching it in what their draft profile really tells us (i.e. this is why I am drafting them, this is why you should NOT).
There was a time, years back I spent hours, days, months reviewing every available piece of tape. Reading every analytics article and argument out there, what was on the cutting edge, what might be the future. I just don't put the same time and effort into these things. 2018-2022, I already knew who my top 12 players were for the next years draft were and more often than not 9, 10, 11 of them would be in the top 12 this time as well. Not this year, not going forward.
In my opinion fantasy football success is three things. Relative athleticism, production metrics, opportunity, and story. I'll define roughly each of them.
Athleticism is important, 4.35 40 times, sub 1.55 10 yard dashes are super cool, and when you are trying to make decisions on the margins, hey I might lean toward the more explosive guy. But generally speaking athleticism is wholly overrated. Essentially, more than anything in the world you want to be a 30th percentile athlete or better--we don't care if you are below average if you are great at football, see DeAndre Hopkins (4th percentile shuttle, 20th percentile broad, 50th percentile vert, 60th percentile speed score, 50th percentile 10 yard split, 30th percentile 40 time--a 30th percentile athlete). Are you athletic enough that ultimately your athleticism isn't the reason you bust? That is the question we are answering, this isn't a sort variable this isn't anything beyond that. Take your RAS scores and shove them.
Beyond this there have been plenty of studies done in the past that show that drilling per position has variation, so any model that doesn't make these considerations likely has a flaw in it. I'd have to go dig up those resources, but it was items like vertical and 40 time for receivers, I believe it was 3-cone and vertical for running backs.
Production metrics. This is probably the most contentious item out there in the modern sphere. There has been a lot of evolution since I started writing in fantasy football. Before we only really had breakout age and dominator. Dominator was just the simplest way to calculate how productive a player was relative to an offense. Now we have new metrics, deeper, more stable looks into how players are used schematically, and because a lot of these evaluations are so new we are still trying to find our new normal. Some of my favorite metrics out there right now are YPRR & YPRR excluding screens & YPRR vs schemes. I know a lot of people push team adjusted metrics, and I will always push age or more importantly year-in-school adjusted metrics. You get some outliers but generally speaking great draft capital plus a YPRR north of approximately 2.50~ is a solid profile. Great draft capital and a YPRR north of 3.00 is often a stud, north of 3.5 is Ja'Marr Chase. Peak year YPRR is how you find guys like Puka Nacua, but historically where guys like Godwin/DJ Moore would have survived. Don't get your head overly wrapped in the clouds though. But this is where we often cull the chaffe.

• DJ Moore (Career: 2.09, Peak: 2.83)
• Chris Godwin (Career: 2.12, Peak: 2.56)

At QB, one of the stickiest metrics that makes sense to me is PFF's big-throw metric. That's often where I throw my bets. So with no shock this year Caleb and Maye are my guys, and I have faith in Penix as well (Penix was dropping bombs at Indiana). P2S is also very popular as well as looking at a lot of these items in rate form.
At TE, athleticism, and relative production are always important.
At RB, this has always been more of a tape position to me, contact balance and vision within play design. Everyone is always looking for that guy that is going to break the big one, or take advantage of every little thing, I want a guy that sees the play, runs the play, and lets his blockers take him to the promise land rather than the guy that just out athletes college level, replacement level linebackers. They are flashy, but probably not long for the world. Missed Tackle rates, yards after contact, breakaway run percent tend to be solid indicators, but they are all ballpark metrics, I just want guys that are in the ballpark, not outliers (in a negative way).
Opportunity. This one is generally easy, draft capital doy. If a team spends a top 60 pick, they intend for that player to line up as a starter that fall. Historically that's whats happened for half way decent players, teams are saying they have a need and that player fills it. From here it's on us to determine what that opportunity might look like (high opportunity, low opportunity offense; efficient, vs inefficient offense). To put it another way, did the guy just go to Justin Herberts old offense or to his new offense? Will he have a 700 attempt offense to work within or a 520 attempt offense. Beyond that are we getting Aaron Rodgers level of efficiency, a touchdown every 10 passes, or are we getting Kenny Pickett levels of efficiency.
Beyond this...again...what is the marginal difference in draft capital? I'm working on a new bit because I want to more appropriately account for production relative to draft capital, and work out a more reasonable system of determining marginal effectiveness of draft capital in predicting success across draft pick not draft round. We know a top 7 drafted receiver is significantly more likely to find success than a top 20 draft receiver, relative to a top 32 receiver, relative to a top 60 receiver relative to a top 80 receiver relative...to...? Call it the Javon BakeTroy Franklin deep dive to correct for the injustice of Amon-Ra. Some day I'll share that, or I'll share it next year. But I did use some preliminary readouts for my rankings this year, and I think you'll be able to tease them out from visual inspection of some of the tier groupings. Essentially, good production metrics, mixed draft capital tiers.
Story. The final thing I weigh. Does a player have a good story? Find the guys that flashed production, flashed excellence, but the reasons why they didn’t consistently find success make sense. Maybe it’s they were in a deep room and there weren’t enough snaps or targets to go around. Maybe they had personality issues that could clear up and it just got in their way in college. Maybe they had injury issues or just a bad offense.
Some examples of these are pretty easy to find. DK Metcalf, explosive, unstoppable vertically, couldn’t stay healthy. Puka Nacua, transferred schools, dealt with injuries. Tyreek Hill, couldn’t stick with programs because of his own issues, has kind of gotten it together in the NFL. DJ Moore is a good example of a pitiful offense, he had more than a dozen starting QBs in his 3 years at Maryland, that offense threw for 2000 yards or fewer his first two seasons. Brandon Aiyuk? Came from JUCO, was behind an all-time ASU great in N’Keal Harry, still popped off his final season—long road, made the most of his opportunities, was explosive when given a shot.
This is subjective, so if a player hangs on your heart/mind more than others, it's fine--make your bet and go for it!
A couple of guys that kind of hang on my head this year are Xavier Legette, Tez Walker roads to success. Brenden Rice, his offense had 1200 yards in 6 games as a freshman, 1600 yards as a sophomore. Find the guys that speak to you.
PS: Brenden Rice's best chance is probably being an Allen Lazard type. My WR8 from the 2018 pre-draft process, loved the guy. Didn't break camp with the Jaguars, landed on the Packers, found success. I don't think Rice is breaking camp with the Chargers, he's a 3-year hold like a Justyn Ross (who has likely fizzled). I might draft him as late as possible or hope to pick him up off of waivers, but tiny odds of success at this point. Kid thought he was a day 2 pick, felt he earned a second round grade, will be interesting to see how he responds. His profile definitely warranted some day 2 consideration, especially over some of the guys that actually went day 2.

As always, ranking within tiers are subjective, and always changing. I'm not fighting anyone on Penix vs Coleman vs Benson vs Brooks.

1.01 The guys that deserve it.
Caleb Williams, QB1, Chicago Bears
No concerns about landing spot, and I’m a Packers fan that would love to take a dig. Good supporting cast to start his career, fantastic arm. The sky is the limit, love his arm and his confidence, we’ll see how Caleb does.
Marvin Harrison, WR1, Arizona Cardinals
On paper, I still prefer Malik Nabers. But this is Kyler Murray’s WR1. It’s not like Kyler hasn’t supported multiple WR1 seasons already. Kyler to the moon. Do not get cute.
1.03 My guys, happy haul.
Drake Maye, QB2, New England Patriots
This is the test of the big throw statistic. He blew it out of the park, and historically good draft capital plus lots of big throws = NFL success. Not concerned about the post-Belichick Patriots in anyway. Middle of the road team.
Malik Nabers, WR2, New York Giants
He was phenomenal as a junior, I’d argue if he wasn’t at LSU, Jayden Daniels wouldn’t have a Heisman. I really like Daboll so I hope the Giants right the ship this year and start moving forward, would hate to see him canned.
1.05 Separators
Rome Odunze, WR3, Chicago Bears
Landing spot is a little crowded, but not bad. This is DJ Moore’s last year without any dead cap so a decision will need to be made; I expect DJ Moore to stick and be the long term WR1, but we’ll see. Keenan is great, but if he isn’t happy in Chicago, he’ll go somewhere else probably chasing a ring. The more I write, the more I think Rome Odunze could be the WR1 in Chicago far sooner than people are ready for right now.
JJ McCarthy, QB3, Minnesota Vikings
Again, Packers fan. But I generally have always respected the Vikings front office and team. Maybe he’s just better Christian Ponder before the next veteran QB steps in the doors, but I do like this landing spot and think there are legs here. I could see myself move him down a tier—but this feels right for now.
Brock Bowers, TE1, Las Vegas Raiders
Can we just not overthink this? Everyone has been over the moon about this guy for years. Just let it happen, find peace.
Jayden Daniels, QB4, Washington Commanders
This one scares me. But Big Time Throws! I don’t trust Washington, and I think the profile is concerning emerging late. Not certain he’s the biggest threat in the NFL with his legs in this class, which is supposed to be his hallmark by the fantasy crowd.
1.08 The crowd
Brian Thomas Jr, WR4, Jacksonville Jaguars
Jacksonville has a new alpha in town. I still think Trevor Lawrence sticks long term. Probably an argument it’s tough to be too high on Thomas. His transition will be a shock, and I think it’s fair to worry that he might just turn into a deep shot guy circa a Marquez Valdes-Scantling type. But I think we hold our breath and hope for the stars.
Xavier Worthy, WR5, Kansas City Chiefs
I think this is a perfect marriage, and anyone would be smart to have him as their WR4. I’m not certain it’s going to translate into easy production in the NFL. But I think this is a perfect marriage for Chiefs fans to get some very exciting games. Trust the Reid.
Keon Coleman, WR6, Buffalo Bills
Josh gets a new alpha. This is a gamble pick, picking with the heart. Allen Robinson comp still stands; Keon Coleman is excellent at the catch point and takes pride in making people miss. I think we should all be waiting with bated breath.
Michael Penix Jr, QB5, Atlanta Falcons
NFL, Not For Long. Superflex hawks will be all over this and will always just say take the QBs first. I think Penix has a lot more upside with his legs than a lot of guys in this class, and I stronglyl considered him in Jayden Daniels place. Wouldn’t be surprised to see a Josh Allen like “didn’t know I could do that, I just did it” early in his career.
Bo Nix, QB6, Denver Broncos
Seems like everyone hates Sean Payton these days, but his system has a lot of respect around the league. He gets a system guy. Feels like the right move for a franchise that needs to win sooner rather than later. I think a lot of his stats in the college were manufactured and he was completely unremarkable at Auburn. Trust in Sean Payton on this one I guess.
Jonathan Brooks, RB1, Carolina Panthers
Not concerned about landing spot, fills a need, and if you thought he was a really good player before, nothing has changed. Quality RB draft capital. I think he can go at any point in this group. Just kind of threw him at the end here.
Trey Benson, RB2, Arizona Cardinals
I’m not entirely sold on Trey Benson, I preferred a guy like Audric Estime on tape. But this guy is a mauler and now enters an offense that is likely to highly prioritize space. Get this load moving, in space? Arizona has a reload going.
2.03 Holdddddddddd
Troy Franklin, WR7, Denver Broncos
This one bewilders me honestly, would have been a bit surprised if he fell to the mid third, but I thought he was a lock to go top 60. I can pull up interviews of Dan Lanning talking about how great of a locker room presence Troy was. His production profile is fantastic. Troy is mint. But even if this was late third round draft capital, it’s still concerning. I believe in my assessment on this guy, only pick I have in this years draft is a late 2nd (but look at that he just went early second)—Franklin and Baker will be priority picks for me. Source, Jon Macri PFF; 4th highest career YPRR against single coverage since 2015.
Javon Baker, WR8, New England Patriots
Falls right in line. I figured Baker would be a round 3 guy, but another solid production profile. I liked both New England receivers coming into the draft—New England in my estimation have a great opportunity to move that offense forward by adding Maye, Polk, Baker, and Bell. I think the veterans on that roster, plus the upside of the youngsters is fantastic relative to what we've seen the last couple years.
Source, Jon Macri PFF; 5th highest career YPRR against single coverage since 2015.
2.05 Lots of flash
Blake Corum, RB3, Los Angeles Rams
People have already said it, but I think the Kyren comp works, and I think Blake was arguably one of the best runners in this class. This guy is going to be a steal in rookie drafts.
Ja’Lynn Polk, WR9, New England Patriots
Fantasy wise, I struggle with the Patriots offense; I don’t think it’s going to go bananas, but I think like Baker, Polk has a shot at being a franchise guy. Don’t confuse my hype on Javon Baker for being low on Polk. Had Polk and Baker tied together prior to the draft. I think Polk has shown a little more after the catch, but Baker was a little bit more reliable, and has a little more tape in one on one situations outside.
Roman Wilson, WR10, Pittsburgh Steelers
Does the Steelers streak get snapped here? I don’t think so. If you’re sitting in the mid second and need a player to feel good about, I feel good about Roman. Profile is built around low sample rate stats, and it’s a little funky that Harbaugh didn’t take him when they were obviously looking at receiver. But it’s the Steelers man.
Jaylen Wright, RB4, Miami Dolphins
Classic third year declare, hyper efficient, speed merchant runner going to the Miami Dolphins? Draft capital is meh, but..c’mon. Let’s fucking go.
2.11 Don’t forget
Jalen McMillan, WR11, Tampa Bay Buccaneers
Intriguing player that shouldn’t be brushed aside. Was definitively the WR2 in that Washington offense and at times even pushed Odunze for targets. Lackluster landing spot leaves us reeling, but someone to keep an eye on.
Tez Walker, WR12, Baltimore Ravens
Productive junior, that immediately went to a better program to limited success. Reminds me of poor production profile Dyami Brown. Ravens receivers are a pain in the ass.
Late Round – Best of Rest targets
Audric Estime, RB, Denver Broncos
Ray Davis, RB, Buffalo Bills
Jaheim Bell, TE, New England Patriots
Always interested in starting a discussion.
Always here for questions.

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Chapter 47
Grum Ormyar
Adventurer Level: N/A
Orc - Blurpan
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"Well, can't say much for their craftsmanship," Harmi said with a grunt.
"It's not pretty, but it looks like it'll hold up to an extended assault," I shook my head in disgust.
We finished our examination of the enemy's encampment and turned back to our own. Harmi and I had decided to personally confirm the scout's reports. The drow had erected wooden barricades around the village and were keeping them wet to prevent fires. They had made the barricades high enough to make it difficult to get attacks over them, too. Any mage that got close enough to send a spell over those walls would also be close enough to suddenly sprout an arrow from between their eyes.
"What was this village's name?" I asked as we walked.
"Dunno," Harmi shrugged. "It isn't on the map because it isn't a recognized settlement. It's too close to the border for that."
"Really? I wouldn't think that they've had issues with the drow before. The buildings look like they've been there for quite a while."
"Yeah, well, they probably have been. Lofin's armies usually do their thing quite a ways to the east of here, so these guys were probably left alone for the most part. Maybe got a visit or two from our boys now and then, but they've probably never even seen a drow. Until now."
"But they're still close enough to be in the settlement prohibition zone? Do you think they knew that?"
"They would have had to. Whoever they got the land from, a rancher probably, would have had to tell them. Plus that settlement is large enough to have applied to be a village, and there's no way they'd miss out on the benefits by choice. If they applied, they would've been told to vacate the area."
"Damn. If they knew, why'd they risk it?"
"Well, after enough repetitions things become routine, and routine tricks you into believing that you have an understanding of things. That combined with how cheap the land would've been probably led to this."
"So what do you think..."
"They're either dead, slaves, or hostages now, Grum. Hells, probably worse if your pa's right about the vampires. Put them from your mind, we've got shit to do."
"Yeah," I nodded solemnly.
We entered the camp we had made yesterday, and a quick look around confirmed that it was bustling with activity. Axes were being sharpened, cooks were stoking fires, and the mages were tending to their hnarses. Our forces now totaled one thousand infantry and thirty mounted mages. The drow may have more soldiers than we do, but if we were to fight them afield we'd be able to wipe the floor with them. Unfortunately, they seem to have realized that.
"Chief Ormyar!" someone shouted.
The shout sounded as if it was directed at me, which caused my head to snap toward the sound. One of the newer scouts was running toward me. I ceased my stride and crossed my arms, affixing the approaching scout with a glare. I noticed a rare smile on Harmi's face as the scout caught up to us.
"I'm not the chief, my father is," I said firmly.
"S-sorry, sir," the scout said, trying to control her breathing. "I've got a report."
"And I'll hear it in a moment. I want you to be sure that it doesn't happen again. My father is the greatest chief Blurpus has ever seen, and I won't tolerate any semblance of disrespect toward him. Understood?"
"Y-yes sir."
"Good. Report."
"We found the caravan from Yirna that had the supplies to make weapons. It was attacked."
"Any survivors?"
"We don't know for sure. They burned those that fell, drow and orc alike. Loaded them into the carts and set them ablaze. Couldn't get an accurate count of the remains."
"Were you able to get eyes on the force that ambushed them?" I asked, uncrossing my arms and placing my hands on my hips.
"No, sir. They were hit right after they crossed the border into Blurpus. Scout-master says that it had to have happened days ago, according to their itinerary."
"Understood. Tell the scout-master to get back to regular patrols, then."
The scout nodded and began jogging away. I took a deep breath through my nose, stifling my rising anger, and let the air out with a heavy sigh.
"Fuck," I grumbled under my breath.
"Good call, sending the scouts to check on the caravan," Harmi noted. "It is fortunate that we now know that we can't rely on archers."
"Yeah, that's one way of looking at it. Whoever this little bastard is, he's far too clever for my liking," I said. "Not only was he able to tell that we had sent our smithing supplies to Yirna, he was able to determine that we would be having them shipped back and where they would be."
"Nah, he probably set up multiple ambush sites. That's what I would do. I'd put a team on any path big enough for a cart."
"Yeah, you're probably right," I absentmindedly agreed, my mind already on what our next steps should be.
The caravan didn't just have weapon-making materials, it had actual smiths and fletchers. Smiths that can perform maintenance are a copper a dozen, but the ones that can create new works from raw materials are worth their weight in silver. Proper fletchers are even rarer, and it would take quite a while to find one willing to travel to Blurpus.
If we had been able to outfit our archers and train some new ones, we would have been able to assault the enemy camp. Archers can fire faster than mages can, which may have allowed us to suppress the enemy behind their barricades long enough for the mages to lob spells over their walls. Hell, they might have even been able to get close enough to use spells that would destroy the barricades entirely.
Most archers know how to maintain their bows and make arrows in a pinch, but most of them don't know how to craft bows or mass-produce arrows. Their makeshift arrows are also a lot less accurate than those made by the professionals. No matter how I look at it, it looks like we're going to have to lay siege to the drow and try to starve them out.
"Oh, here we go again," Harmi said, gesturing at another scout jogging toward us.
As the orc approached, I noticed that we were mistaken with our initial impression. This orc wasn't a scout. The two axe handles smacking against his thighs as he ran was a dead giveaway of his status as infantry. As he drew closer, I tried to figure out why he would possibly be running to speak to us.
"Mornin' chief-kin," the large orc said. "Sernt Balug wanted me to get you."
"Sergeant Balug? What for?" I asked.
"It's a surprise, sir."
"I don't like surprises," I crossed my arms again. "Tell me what he wants."
"Sernt Balug's a lot bigger than you," he chuckled. "Erm... Sir. Plus, we all wanna see your reaction."
"Balug may be bigger, but the chief-kin can have you flogged," Harmi interjected.
The big orc took a moment to think about this, biting his lip as his brain worked harder than it likely ever has.
"I guess so, but even if you flog me to death my mum'd recognize the body," he shrugged. "If I ruin the surprise and the boys get at me, she won't even recognize my big toe. Sir."
"It's that good of a surprise?" I asked incredulously.
"Oh yeah. Your reaction'll be worth taking a few licks from the whip. If you want me to. Sir."
I shared a glance with Harmi, who gave a defeated shrug in the face of the country-orc's stubbornness.
"Fine," I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. "Lead on."
The unruly infantry-orc led us through the camp and into the woods. Being unused to traveling without a path, I made certain to watch my footing. Despite my care, I quickly fell behind. The other two seemed to be able to predict the roots and divots that littered the ground and had to stop and wait for me to catch up repeatedly. By the time we arrived at Sergeant Balug's location my embarrassment and frustration was at a boiling point.
Once the ground was clear of obstacles, I pointedly marched after our guide, ready to be harsh with whatever I was about to be shown. However, all of my anger quickly melted away once I saw the surprise. My eyes widened and my jaw dropped.
"The fuck?" Harmi asked with a shocked softness.
"Ah, chief-kin! Oh, and you brought cap'n Harmi too!" Sergeant Balug exclaimed. "Surprise!"
A mewling whine came from a gigantic creature that had somehow been trussed up. The sound was disturbingly similar to a pupper that had just been told off, but much louder. Its head was covered in metallic looking spikes, and the creature's red and yellow hide clashed horribly with the various greens of the surrounding foliage.
Each of its bound arms and legs ended in three enormous claws, which were also tied together. It struggled against its bindings to no avail, and whined again. As it did so, I caught a glimpse of rows upon rows of sharpened fangs within its maw.
"What in the hells is that?" I asked, regaining some of my composure.
"It's a gift from the gods! A Nahalim, to be specific. Young one too, judgin' by its size," Balug said with a prideful grin. "One of our boys was out takin' a leak and found it while it was nappin'. Once he let me know about it, we grabbed all the rope we could carry and tied it up good and proper."
I took a moment to digest this information, then turned to look at the sergeant. He towered over me, but despite his appearances... and upbringing... and mannerisms... he's one of the most educated orcs I know. When he says a gift from the gods in this context, it could mean literally anything.
"Okay, so what's a Nahalim and why is it a gift?" I asked.
"Please don't tell me you're planning on trying to eat the fuckin' thing," Harmi added. "Pretty sure those are poisonous."
"Venomous, not poisonous, and no. They taste like shit. Anyhow, to answer your question, chief-kin, a Nahalim is one of them ol' biological weapons that they were usin' during the cataclysm wars. They were mostly meant for crackin' open castles, but they also saw some use as anti-infantry. You see 'em now and again on the edges of the wastes, where I grew up," Balug's grin somehow grew. "And it's a gift cuz if you've got the balls, you can train it."
I nodded along and then froze once he finished his sentence.
"The fuck did you just say?" I asked, unable to believe my ears.
Balug's men tried to hide their laughter. Unsuccessfully.
"Train it, sir. There was a guy who lived in the wastes who had a couple of 'em as pets. Hunted with 'em and everything. Said they're just like giant puppers, so long's you treat them proper," he nodded sagely. "Of course, they ate him in the end, but we're pretty sure he died of natural causes first."
"Pretty sure..." I repeated.
"Yep. Give me a few days and I'll have this boy... or maybe girl, it's hard to tell... Anyway, I'll have it ready and rarin' to tear up some drow in no time."
"What are you going to feed it?" Harmi asked.
"We got drow prisoners, don't we?" Balug raised an eyebrow.
"Absolutely not," I said. "We aren't feeding our prisoners to this thing. Not only would that be morally repugnant, it would also be in violation of the law of the land and the High Chief would certainly have our heads."
"Well, what if we kept it a secret?"
"You're willing to gamble your life that none of your boys will get too sauced and tell this story? Fat fucking chance, sergeant. No."
"Damn. You got a good point, sir. Well boys, what do you think?" Balug turned to his orcs. "Willin' to go on half-rations to feed the beast?"
The sounds of not-quite-suppressed mirth died out immediately and was replaced with a tense and contemplative silence that was only broken by the occasional whine from the Nahalim. The soldiers looked between their sergeant and the Nahalim studiously. The subject of their internal conflict was painfully obvious, the stomach is one of the two organs that infantry does their thinking with. The other organ they use to think is somewhat up for debate.
"Fuck it, I'm game," one of the soldiers said.
The other soldiers looked at the one that spoke up, and a few of them shrugged. One by one they gave their assent to the sergeant's plan. Once everyone was in agreement, Sergeant Balug turned back to me.
"There you have it, sir. We'll feed it with our own rations, and get it nice and trained up for an assault on the enemy," he said with a smug grin. "Will that be alright?"
"If you can't train it, will you be able to kill it?" I asked.
"Yes, sir. It bleeds just like everything else. Worst case scenario, we lose a few. But I got a look at the enemy's barricade earlier, and I'm pretty sure that we'll be losing more orcs without the Nahalim than we would if it went wild."
"You might be right. How exactly are you gonna train this thing? We don't have cages big enough to hold it."
"Oh, we'll secure it in such a way that it can't run around and let it get familiar with us. Positive reinforcement and the like goes a long way with these big bastards. By the end of the week, I'll have it eating out of my hand."
The sergeant was making a good case. If Balug's able to train the Nahalim, it will save a lot of lives on our side of this conflict. If he fails, though, we'll have lost good orcs and still have to face the enemy's barricade.
We could try to starve out the enemy, but their leader has fully demonstrated that he isn't a fool, so he probably has a plan for that course of action. I looked at Harmi for guidance, but the furrow in his brow told me that he was just as lost as I. I took a deep breath through my nose and let it out through my mouth.
"Fine," I said. "Train the Nahalim. We'll try to use it in an assault on the enemy fortifications once it's ready."
"Thank you, sir. You won't regret this."
​
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As dawn broke, painting the sky in hues of pink and orange, the special forces team, along with a few representatives from the decimated hamlet and the abducted peasant girl, cautiously approached the neighboring village. They had decided to wait until morning to approach, aiming to reduce the likelihood of causing panic among the villagers and treat the poor girl who endured a night of horror. The ruckus they had caused the previous night was bound to have put everyone on edge, and Coleman knew handling this situation with care was critical.
Their Ground Mobility Vehicles (GMVs) slowly rolled forward as the sound of the engines muffled under the barking of orders from the village gate. The peasants were alarmed and were sent into a flurry of activity as armed themselves with whatever tools they could find.
Coleman signaled for the convoy to stop a safe distance away as he looked up at Eliijah who was in the turret again. “You sure this is a good idea?” The team leader asked.
Elijah shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly and replied, "I dunno, I guess we're gonna find out." He said while aiming the massive weapon toward the village walls, where a few men were positioned with what looked like crossbows.
At that moment, Azeline chimed in with her usual blunt candor. "Just waltz in, show 'em who's boss, and state you aren't here to hurt them. If any idiot tries anything, use your magic boom boom sticks to cut down a few and they'll get the idea."
Confusion and disturbance clouded Coleman's features as he turned his head and stared at the elf. "Ya, we're not gonna do that," he said firmly, dismissing her suggestion outright. The last thing they wanted to do was cut down a bunch of pitchfork-wielding peasants just to prove a point.
But as he continued to work his mind for a solution to handling this situation, Coleman's gaze floated to the peasant girl they had rescued. She was being comforted by the survivors of the previous village attack. "You think we should let them lead the way?" He asked, turning back to Elijah and wondering if a familiar face might be a little less threatening.
Scratching his head, Elijah thought about the question momentarily as his pocket squirmed restlessly. "Eehhhh... probably," he finally responded. "They'd be less likely to attack a bunch of women, especially if they recognized their own in the mix."
Coleman clamped his hands together after making up his mind. "Alright, we'll let the girls go first. You and I are gonna go with 'em," he decided, climbing out of the vehicle.
Elijah furrowed his brows in disbelief, shaking his head. "Woah, woah, woah, wait. What? You want us to go with 'em?" he exclaimed, holding up a hand and letting out a faux laugh while crouching down out of the turret. "Let's think about this for a moment," he said, his tone serious.
"We're an unknown element to these people. They've just seen one of their own dragged away by a bunch of dickheads, and suddenly a new set of dickhead show up in these strange, beastless carriages, saying ‘hey guys, let us in! We’re nice I swear!’ after smoking a Wyrven." he gestured to the empty field with a Wyrven corpse in it. "Do you know how fucking INSANE that sounds? They might just try to string us up or some shit!”
A scoff left Coleman’s mouth as he rolled his eyes and started adjusting his gear. "Quit your yappin’ and come on," he retorted sharply, motioning for Elijah to come down from the turret. "You’re being a bitch."
Visibly frustrated, Elijah brought a hand to his face and started rubbing it in disbelief and exasperation. "This is fucking insane," he muttered under his breath. Crawling out of the vehicle, he grabbed his rifle and barked at Coleman, "You're fucking insane, you know that? I knew you were gonna get me killed!"
From the driver's seat, Bennett huffed in amusement. "That's rich, coming from you," he commented while he crawled to the turret to man it.
Ignoring the protesting medic, Coleman turned to Azeline. "You good to walk? Come on," he said, gesturing for her to follow.
Elijah interjected in alarm, "What!? No, she's not good to walk! She fractured her hip less than three days ago—" but he was cut off as Azeline, hissed in pain while pulling herself out of the vehicle and started walking forward, albeit with a slight limp.
"What the fuck are you doing?!" Elijah basically screamed as his arms flailed. "You can't be fucking walking yet! Do you have any idea how stupid this is? You're going to worsen your injury, you could end up with a permanent limp, or worse!"
Azeline waved her hand dismissively at Elijah's concerns. "Ya ya, whatever, I'm fine," she insisted, “It’s not like I haven’t messed my hip up before.”
In an effort to find some other voice of reason, Elijah looked to Bennett and then Coleman, but everyone just shrugged. "I saw her walking around yesterday. Didn't seem too bad," Coleman said nonchalantly.
With his frustration reaching a boiling point, Elijah brought both hands to his temples, mouthing the words "What the fuck" in utter disbelief. He then chomped towards Azeline with his dominant hand and firmly said, "NO! No, get back in the—"
But before he could finish his sentence, his pocket erupted in a burst of movement. A flash of fire and violet light bolted up to his head. A clearly agitated fairy squished his face together with her tiny hands as a snarl formed on her face.
"Shut up! Shut up, shut up, shut up!" Yana scolded him, shaking his head around. "How can I sleep with you screaming like a damned banshee! I'll turn you into one since you like yapping so much!"
Observing the chaos unfolding around her, Azeline wore an expression of indifference and numbness. The proper reaction to such a scene might have been to recoil and run away in fear, but she had grown accustomed to the peculiar brand of insanity these humans brought with them. It seemed that every hour was filled with one absurdity after another, and the Elf had learned to just deal with it as any other event.
Meanwhile, Coleman, seemingly unfazed by the commotion, walked around the Ground Mobility Vehicle (GMV) and hopped onto the back. He began rummaging through the equipment, eventually pulling out two compact ballistic shields. They weren’t perfect and were custom-made to use your rifle while providing adequate cover for your torso, so they were a little bulky, but it was better than nothing.
“Why do you even need sleep!?” Elijah barked back, glaring at the Fairy. “Aren't you some immortal shitter that is above such 'mortal pleasures'?" he asked, his voice tinged with incredulity as he swiped at the fairy in a futile attempt to regain some personal space.
Effortlessly evading his hand with her nimble flying, Yana hovered in front of Elijah's face with both hands on her hips. "Because it feels nice!" she retorted with a defiant tone. "I don't need a reason to do what I like!" Her response, brimming with the whimsical and carefree nature characteristic of fairies, left no room for argument.
As Elijah struggled and bickered with Yana, Coleman walked over to the medic. He shoved one of the ballistic shields into his hands before grabbing the strap of Elijah's plate carrier and dragging him along. "Come on, let's go round up our peasants," he said, apparently completely unperturbed by the situation unfolding around them.
Taken by surprise by Coleman's sudden action, Elijah stumbled along, trying to avoid falling over while awkwardly juggling the bulky shield. “Goddamnit!” The man yelled until he finally found his footing.
A giggle left Yana's mouth before she stuck her tongue out at Elijah. "You are the worst apostle ever!" She declared and flew off towards the vehicle, heading straight for his pack.
Several choice swears left Elijah’s mouth as he was unceremoniously dragged along by Coleman towards the group of women who had gathered a short distance away. The women were whispering amongst themselves with expressions filled with concern due to the earlier ruckus.
Noticing their apprehensive glances, Coleman jabbed Elijah in the side and nodded towards the villagers, "Tell them everything is fine, we're just… spirited and lively, or some shit." He said, wanting to ease the villagers' worries.
Elijah's eye twitched for a moment. He was not exactly thrilled with playing the role of an interpreter when Coleman could speak the language, albeit not as fluently. However, he ultimately relented and out a defeated sigh.
"Hey, everything's okay," Elijah said in a bored tone. "We're just... lively..." he explained while shooting Coleman an accusatory and salty look.
The women exchanged glances that contained equal parts skepticism and curiosity, but they seemed to relax after seeing the casual body language of the strange warriors. However, they still had reservations about these foreign men's intentions. In their experience, few ever went out of their way to help someone without expecting something in return, and often such 'help' ended with someone being sold into slavery or burdened with extraordinary debt.
Among the group, the girl who had been kidnapped by the Imperial Auxiliaries shifted nervously. Gathering her courage, she stepped forward while her eyes flitted between the ground, the two men, and the palisade in the background. "Um… H-Hello…" she began hesitantly, her voice barely above a whisper. "Thank you for saving me..." She paused, looking back at the ground, her hands fidgeting with the hem of her torn garment.
After a brief moment, she looked up again with a hint of trepidation. "I'm assuming you want compensation...?" Her voice trailed off, the question hanging in the air, reflecting her uncertainty and fear.
The soldiers exchanged a knowing look. It wasn’t often that a delicate situation provided a solution for itself. Still, they had to be delicate with this situation especially when it came to the apprehension of a girl who just went through something horrible.
"We just want you to go talk to your people, so they don't try to attack or anything." Coleman spoke carefully while scratching his head. “Uhh.. we’re from far away and we’re just looking for directions or something.”
The villager girl stared at Coleman as if he was growing an extra limb out of his head for a moment before looking back at the other women for confirmation. But she only received a mix of hesitant nods and shrugs, signaling their uncertainty and that they have been true to their word so far.
Resisting the urge to click his tongue at Coleman's less-than-stellar opening, Elijah seized the opportunity to foster a more personal connection. "By the way, I’m Eli and this is Cole,” he introduced himself while giving the girl a pleasant smile. “What's your name?” he asked, his voice carrying a genuine curiosity.
The girl hesitated for a moment before responding, "I’m… I'm Rysa."
After handing Coleman his shield, a soft clap resounded as Elijah slowly walked towards her, ensuring his hands were visible and empty to show he meant no harm. "Well, Rysa, it's really nice to meet you," he said, his tone charismatic and casual. "We could really use your help talking to your people. We don't want any misunderstandings. We're here to help, not cause more trouble.”
Rysa’s expression softened slightly at Elijah’s more approachable demeanor. She still felt on edge and was still shaken, especially after what she just endured, but Rysa didn’t feel any overt maliciousness. Trust was a luxury Rysa wasn't sure she could afford, but she also recognized the reality of their situation. After witnessing the corpse of the Wyvern in the fields, she understood that resistance against these strangers would likely be futile.
Not wanting to anger such powerful beings, Rysa bowed her head in deference and performed a crude and unsteady curtsy-like gesture. “Y-yes, my lord.” she said as a sign of respect towards those she perceived as of higher class or importance. Anyone capable of slaying an Imperial Auxiliary and a great beast like a Wyvern must hold significant power or status and in her mind, this was a problem for someone else. Right now, all she wanted to do was go home and cry herself to sleep in her mother’s arms.
“Right away, my lord.” Rysa then straightened up and lowered her head. "I’ll speak with the village head and my father," she said, adjusting her torn clothing in an attempt to keep herself as modest as possible. "I-I believe they’ll be more than willing to listen.”
Coleman's brow furrowed slightly when he heard Rysa address Elijah as ‘my lord,’ a term he somewhat frowned upon. However, it didn’t matter how he felt about aristocratic systems and their titles, because Elijah quickly adapted to the circumstance and capitalized on this newfound perception.
Lifting his head in a manner that bordered on arrogance but still maintained his friendly smile, Elijah underwent a noticeable shift in disposition. As he walked forward, he said in a light, reassuring tone, "Oh come on, there's no need for that."
As Elijah approached, he noticed a subtle but significant change in Rysa's demeanor. The closer he got, the more she seemed to shrink in on herself as a visible tension gripped her frame. It was as if she harbored a deep-seated fear, and Elijah wondered if it was directly aimed at him for his role in the violence last night.
However, Elijah quickly realized that fear seemed more omnipresent than anything else. More likely a result of what she endured at the hands of those animals. Her body language spoke volumes, her shoulders hunched, and her gaze fixed firmly on the ground, avoiding any direct eye contact.
It was as if she was bracing herself for harm.
Responding to the shift in her behavior, Elijah immediately slowed his advance and maintained a healthy distance to avoid overwhelming her. "You've been through a lot, and we’d like to get you and your people to some semblance of safety." He said gently as he looked between her and the gaggle of women behind her who seemed equally hesitant
“Well… I would be lying if I said we’re doing this out of the goodness of our hearts.” Elijah said as he watched the women both tense and relax at the same time.
He knew all too well that coming off as purely altruistic would raise more suspicion than it would alleviate. Selflessness was often viewed with skepticism in these parts, as people were more accustomed to the harsh give-and-take of survival. "To be honest, we've actually been hired to sniff out bandits or deserters and we just happened to stumble over one of those groups of bastards attacking villages." Elijah kept his words vague enough to obfuscate exactly who he worked for as he gestured toward the women behind Rysa. “These women behind you had their entire village destroyed by those scumbags.”
"But, to cut the chase…” Elijah said with a half smile that made Rysa feel as if she didn’t have any room to refuse. “We're not particularly keen on spending the night outside," he added, gesturing to the village gate. "So, some food, water, and a roof over our heads would be plenty for us in repayment. And… we’d also like a little coin or some supplies.” Elijah winked at her. “I believe that would be fair for our… valiant services."
Rysa was still somewhat guarded but she visibly softened under Elijah's request for payment. She knew there was going to be a catch, but as luck would have it, the apparent powerful freelancers or lords in front of her were more materially motivated. "I... I'll see what I can do," she replied, her voice still tinged with uncertainty. "Our village has been through a lot recently, but... but I think we can help each other."
Elijah’s smile widened slightly as a twinkle sparkled in his eye. “Wonderful! Maybe you can lead the way and talk to your people for us?” He asked pointing at his shield. "Because I don’t really think they’re gonna respond very well to us."
Nodding, Rysa shuffled forward as she lowered her head in deference towards Elijah and Coleman.
On the other hand, Elijah watched the poor peasant girl scurry away before glancing back at Coleman with a cheeky smile. The team leader stood there, unable to decide whether he should praise or reprimand this manipulative fuck
Heaving a sigh, Coleman settled on just nodding his head. They both knew the importance of this moment – not just for their immediate needs but for building a semblance of trust in a community they could potentially operate out of.
As they followed after the peasant girl, Elijah clapped Coleman on the arm with a bright, annoyingly cheerful voice, "Everything's comin' together!" His enthusiasm seemed almost infectious, if not for the context in which it was delivered. Coleman, however, found himself at a loss for words, torn between admiration for Elijah's adept handling of the situation and disgust.
“I…” Coleman started but found himself unable to complete the thought. He remained silent for a moment, rubbing the bridge of his nose while his medic snickered incessantly. "You're a... you're a real piece of work, you know that?" Coleman finally let out before he started chuckling himself.
“Hahaha, Oh my god…” He continued, unable to hold back a laugh despite his earlier frustration. As they passed the GMV, Coleman gestured towards Azeline, who was still lingering near the vehicle, "Come on, let's go get a face full of arrows and pitchforks." He half-joked as the elf woman grabbed her sword with her good arm and started limping along with the two.
Ever the instigator, Elijah decided that the best way to add more credibility to their story was to muddle the plot into something indecipherable. Throwing his arm up, Elijah snapped his fingers, "Come on, Yana, let's go!" He yelled out.
Yana, who had been enjoying her moment in the sun atop the .50 caliber machine gun, abruptly sprang up with a snarl on her face. "Huh!?" she exclaimed, clearly irritated that her sunbathing session was interrupted. Looking around, she rolled her eyes dramatically in annoyance before she let out an exasperated "Ugh!"
Then, with a flutter of her wings, she zipped off towards Elijah, though not without muttering a string of fairy curses under her breath about ‘inconsiderate humans’ and their ‘incessant need for movement.’
Landing on Elijah's head with the grace of a particularly irate hummingbird, Yana began to tug and pull at his hair, her tiny face scrunched up in frustration. "What!? What do you want!?" she demanded, her voice high-pitched and full of irritation as she grabbed onto his long, curly hair and started yanking.
Ignoring the now routine bickering, Coleman turned his attention to Rysa in the distance. She had stopped just in front of the village gate and started speaking earnestly to the armed men outside. Even from a distance, Coleman could tell she was doing her best to smooth the way for their arrival.
Turning to Azeline, who was silently observing the scene with a thoughtful expression, Coleman asked, "What should we expect if things go right?"
With her gaze never leaving the villagers and the gate, Azeline pondered on the question for a few moments. "If the girl convinces them our intentions aren’t to sack their village, they'll likely let us in without much hassle.” She said in interest as she rubbed the splint attached to her arm. “We'll be watched closely, of course. So expect a lot of suspicion and a few foolish souls trying to test us," she finished as they watched a giant of a man run out of the gate and scoop Rysa in a massive hug.
“Okay…” Coleman responded as he started to process Azeline's assessment. Nodding his head, the team leader’s mind was already racing with contingency plans. "Okay... well, what if things go wrong?" he queried, a hint of concern lacing his voice as they noticed a flood of armed villagers flood out of the gates.
Azeline shifted slightly, her eyes narrowing as she observed the sudden influx of people. "Then we either leave, kill them, or kill them and leave," she stated bluntly in a pragmatic and chilling tone.
Coleman ran a hand through his hair as he groaned in exasperation. He momentarily pushed off his headset, allowing himself a brief pause to gather his thoughts before slipping them back on and pressing down on his push to talk. "Baron Actual to all elements, maintain support by fire positions. Baron 4, you are designated QRF. Be on standby for exfil if this goes sideways. Acknowledge over."
One by one, the calls of affirmation came in followed by a litany of activity as the team coordinated their roles. And looking over at Azeline and Elijah, Coleman gave them a tired look. "Let's try to keep this peaceful, alright? I don’t want to waste a bunch of farmers with pitchforks.”
Having finally managed to disentangle Yana from his hair, Elijah gave him a nonchalant shrug as they made their way to the mass of people waiting in the distance.
-
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The Haunted Mansion, December 25th, 2018
Me and my friends caught Ichigo holding the next dimensional stone wedge meant to teleport in between worlds. I need that stone to get to the next world in order to help save my kidnapped friend from Death Battle. Ichigo was standing with his back turned to us as he listed to five bust statues singing at him. They sung "Grim Grinning Ghosts" as we snuck up behind him with our weapons drawn just in case if he turns around and immediately attacks.
Holding my new scissor blade "Joyeuse", I was about to pick Ichigo's pocket before the bust statues stopped singing and Ichigo turned around and grabbed my wrist.
Ichigo: Ryuko!? What are you doing here!? I thought Wiz and Boomstick disposed of you!
Ryuko: Not good enough! I am going to take your dimensional stone because I need it to track down the scumbag from Death Battle who forcibly raped me and kidnapped my friend.... Let go of me!
Ichigo still held on before Uzu came up beside him and hit Ichigo's wrist hard with his blunt kendo sword! Ichigo yelped in pain letting go of me before he pulled out his big spirit sword or "zanpakuto" and swung an energy wave into Uzu, causing him to fly into the sky away from here
Ichigo: Getsuga Tenshou!
Me and Isaac were left. I drew Joyeuse as Isaac drew his plasma saw.
Ichigo: Take the stone then! I will defeat you a second time Ryuko, and your little friend with the glowing chainsaw!
Ryuko: I'm getting stronger in new things you stupid prick! Just wait until you get sodomized and you seek revenge!
The five bust statues began singing "Grim Grinning Ghosts" again as we engaged in the duel.
Me and Ichigo clashed blades and we stood pressing them together before Isaac ran up to Ichigo and swung his plasma saw at him, Ichigo swung his blade and blocked him before I swung and Ichigo blocked my blow.
Ichigo dashed in between me and Isaac and skillfully was taking on both of each on each side with just his big sword!
Isaac: Ryuko! He's really skilled!
Ryuko: I know! But watch this!
I jumped back and rose Joyeuse to cast one of my spells!
Ryuko: Scutter!
A bunch of little spiders dropped from my skirt and started crawling over to Ichigo's feet to bite him! As the spiders bit Ichigo he got distracted with his fight with Isaac and Isaac kicked Ichigo in the stomach and he went flying!
Ichigo slammed into a big concrete vase and it shattered, little ghosts rose from the wrecked artifact as Isaac jumped at him with his plasma saw ready to attack again! Ichigo quickly pulled his big sword up to block him once more, at a standstill now they tried to push against each other's blade.
Isaac: Why... is mon plasma saw not cutting through your sword!?
Ichigo: One, it's not physical it's an immortal zanpakuto, a spirit sword of "Zangetsu", and second are you French?
Isaac: Oui!
Isaac pushed back against Ichigo suddenly as they began to swing and clash blades again! Sparks from Isaac's plasma saw showered both Ichigo and Isaac yet they cared nothing of it. It was my opportunity to strike! I decided to activate one of my dimensional links.
I remembered how to cast them so I closed my eyes, quickly cleared my mind and imagined the friends I met in the other worlds in the form of images of their faces on orbs. I saw two new orbs containing an image of Jack Skellington and Sally, I decided to see what they could do. I used Jack Skellington's dimensional link and shouted the spell!
Ryuko: Dimensional link activate.
Upon shouting the spell, I began to feel my flesh disappear painlessly, I still had my hair and clothes, but I was now a skeleton, yet I retained my abilities, vision and strength.
I rose my scissor blade up and darkness emanated from it, causing the nearby skeletons buried near this grave-filled courtyard to rise, many of them holding medieval weapons! I then pointed at Ichigo and the Skeletons charged over to all attack him at once. The skeletons charged, grabbed Isaac and threw him aside, startling Ichigo and making him slam his blade into the ground accidentally before they all jumped on him and started beating him with their crusty, degraded weapons.
Ichigo screamed as he was pinned and was being beaten, Isaac got up and looked at me and I could see the horror in his face when he saw me as a skeleton.
Ryuko: I'm using Jack's dimensional link, it will only last five minutes.
Isaac: Oui?
Isaac shuddered for a moment before I heard Ichigo stop shouting but the skeletons kept beating him.
Ichigo: Bankai!
A spiritual energy burst sent the skeletons flying and Ichigo rose again now with his zanpakuto turned into a black katana-like sword. His power and speed was increased significantly. Ichigo quickly began to jump around and cut the skeletons down into little pieces before he slashed Isaac across the chest and blood gushed! He screamed in pain and fell but was caught before he fully fell down by another ghost.
The ghost revealed itself and it was that skeleton like ghost with the bowling hat.
Ezra: Heheheheheha! Hopefully you don't bleed out or else you will join us in our abode of souls.
Isaac: Chas V'shalom!
Ichigo flew directly at me and we clashed blades and were now at a standstill. We struggled against each other's blade as Ichigo ran his mouth.
Ichigo: What have you trained in!?!?! You're a skeleton, summoning spiders! How?
Ryuko: Magic baby!
Ichigo: Well I am not going to fall to the likes of you, skeleton girl!
Suddenly the plump ghost with the top hat materialized behind Ichigo and pulled his legs out from under his feet, he fell and scream.
Phineas: Don't worry Ryuko, I won't hurt you. Try your spirit gauntlet!
Phineas disappeared before Ichigo got up and shouted at the ghost, wanting to chase after it.
Ichigo: Stay out of this you assholes!
He actually tried to pursue it but this gave me the chance to grab Ichigo and throw him towards Isaac, where Isaac quickly whipped out his plasma saw and sliced Ichigo across the back and then batted him into a nearby mausoleum. Phineas the plump ghost materialized with a key and locked Ichigo in there as the door was quickly shut somehow after Ichigo was tossed in there.
That wasn't the end of the fight however, it only got more difficult!
A few minutes later my skeleton form regained it's skin and flesh and I looked like my original self again but once I turned back, the foundation of the mausoleum cracked and rumbled before the entire mausoleum was lifted off its foundation by Vasto Lorde Ichigo!
The taller, horned, pale masked monster of an Ichigo was very powerful and it picked up the entire mausoleum to throw at me and Isaac!
We both quickly rose our blades and sliced the mausoleum into tiny pieces within a split second, the pieces fell everywhere like tiny pebbles, we stood before the monstrous Ichigo ready to attack again, where we instead saw a red orb glow from his horns before it fired at us, we dodged out of it's way but it only exploded on impact and engulfed the entire courtyard, damaging the mansion and throwing up high into the sky!
We quickly looked down to see us rising above the massive explosion and when it was gone, the wrecked mansion and nearby houses above looked like little ant-sized structures but I could barely see the Vasto Lorde Ichigo swinging at the other nearby ghosts down there as they were angry at him for destroying their home!
Ryuko: Isaac! I got an idea for this bitch!
Isaac: Are you thinking what I am thinking?
Ryuko and Isaac: Summoned swords!
As we began to fall, we used our summoned swords magic jolting each shoulder back and forward left and right, summoning light blue swords which shot down quickly into Ichigo who was too distracted fighting ghosts, as he was being hit he looked up while still swatting at the ghosts and began firing those exploding red orbs from his horns!
They flew up at near light speed at us but we quickly dodged the pure energy balls as we continued to shoot our blue magic energy swords down into monster Ichigo, we got closer and closer to the ground and more of those explosive orbs flew at us, making us dodge faster and faster until Isaac decided to detonate them!
Isaac: Now!
We both clapped twice at the same time and it caused the summoned swords to explode, that mixed with Ichigo summoning another red explosive orb from his Vasto Lorde horns mixed to make a much bigger explosion, so big in fact that the explosion was the same size as a nuclear bomb! The mansion and so many houses were destroyed and it left a massive crater! The explosion threw both of us back into the sky, we screamed going all the way back up! Once we got as high as the literal stratosphere, we were somehow able to talk again!
Isaac: Ryuko? I think we got him!
Ryuko: Are those swords that damn powerful?
Isaac: Je ne sais pas, Ichigo's exploding orbs are that powerful though. Maybe mixing the explosions to make a bigger one!
Ryuko: Those ghosts are gonna kill us, we destroyed their home!
We then saw all the newly displaced ghosts rise into the heavens for their final resting place.
Isaac: Or maybe not. They will become one after le purification.
Ryuko: I think Ichigo will join them!
Isaac: What about the dimensional stone?
Ryuko: What? Sh-t! It's gone?
Suddenly Ichigo flew right up with us, he was no longer a vasto lorde monster but he looked beat up. He had a torn up uniform, black covering the left part of his face, a horn on the left side of his head, and a much larger sword!
Ichigo: Not quite done yet! Give it up Ryuko, you don't even have Senketsu, you are gonna lose quicker! Throw your magic at me! I'll survive it, I am using my true bankai!
Ryuko: Eat this you hollow-merged freak! Fira!
I shot fireballs from my scissor blade but Ichigo blocked them like they were nothing. Isaac moved over to Ichigo to swing his plasma saw at him but Ichigo was much stronger, swinging sideways and knocking the plasma saw from Isaac's hands. Isaac then punched Ichigo in the nose and blood squirted out his nostrils, the blood turned black and faded away!
Ichigo punched Isaac and knocked him into me! I grabbed onto him and shouted another spell!
Ryuko: Sleeperaga!
I shot the spell from my scissor blade but Ichigo caught the spell with his true bankai and threw it back at us, it his Isaac and he quickly slipped into a deep sleep.
Ichigo: You think you can just cast your little spells, go anywhere, take anything, not anymore!
Ryuko: You're just an egotistical little prick aren't you! When I beat you, you will be humbled!
Ichigo: You live in a fantasy girl! Get your ass over here!
I tossed the sleeping Isaac aside as Ichigo flew at me and he swung with immense power but I blocked his attack and we stood at a standstill, both of our bodies sprawled out in midair backs up while our arms were out on our swords holding back each other, Ichigo started to overpower me but I had one more trick up my sleeve.
Ryuko: Weakaga, bitch!
Saying that spell caused Ichigo's sword to being bending and deforming like malleable metal, I soon cut through his sword and he was dumbfounded!
Ichigo: This is not possible!
Ryuko: It is now! This is what payback looks like!
I began to batter the disarm Ichigo with my candy-cane like scissor blade, blocking his punches and getting closer and closer to Joyeuses special release form.
Ryuko: You think I'm f-cking weak? I will show you who's weak now, and I'm staring right him! I will beat your ass and take your dimensional stone and get the hell out of here! Have fun in a block of ice you samurai-ghostbuster lookin' prick! Joyeuse! Activate!
The bow on Joyeuse cocked back and when I grabbed it I began to spin with it pointed out, it didn't go into decapitation mode like my original scissor blade but it instead summoned a massive snowstorm in the air, all the ice was freezing Ichigo as it was targeted for him!
Ichigo: Screw you, bastard!
Ichigo was quickly encased in a huge hunk of ice, and the ground below us was covered in thick snow so we all landed safely on it. Isaac upon finally hitting the snow finally woke up, he woke up and got up to walk over to me.
Isaac: I take it... we?
Ryuko: Won. I beat him.
Isaac: Victoire! Zis feels amazing mon ami!
Ryuko: Sure does hon. Uh, Isaac move. Get out of the way!
Isaac looked up to see his plasma saw falling down towards him, he screamed and dashed out of the way, allowing the saw to fall safely into the thick snow.
Isaac: Oh merci! I would have been in deep trouble if I lost zis. I used it to fight the covers in my hometown. Those covers of Revocs.
Ryuko: Really! You're a tough one and I like that. Let's go get our stone and find Uzu and Gamagoori so we can get out of here.
Isaac: Certainly, honhonhon!
Isaac's French laugh literally caused me to hear French accordion music and smell cheese and croissants but it was for a moment only. Isaac walked over to the frozen Ichigo and punched the ice in an area close to his pocket, punching a deep hole in the thick ice before reaching into Ichigo's pocket and taking the dimensional stone for us to leave this world before replacing it with a regeneration elixir Santa gave him earlier.
Isaac: Happy Hannuakh monsieur Ichigo. Have a health potion once you thaw.
Ryuko: We gotta find Uzu and Gamagoori so we can leave.
Ichigo: You sure they survived?
Uzu: Yes we did.
Uzu Sanageyama and Ira Gamagoori walked over to us and they congratulated us for winning against Ichigo.
Uzu: You won! Amazing job guys!
Gamagoori: Without Senketsu too, or that mint colored glove. Senketsu?
Ryuko: The ghosts gave it to me. It can turn me into a ghost.
Gamagoori: Really! Intangible?
Ryuko: Yep.
Gamagoori: Well now, anyway, we were wrong about you. You surely improved, and I think we have what it takes to save Mankanshoku. However we need to get home now.
Ryuko: Fine.
Uzu: When we get back to nudist beach. I'm going to tell Satsuki of your achievement. I will take a picture and send it to her, maybe she will change her mind and help us out.
Ryuko: Hopefully.
Isaac placed the stone down and a portal formed above it. We all jumped in and Isaac was the last one to go, grabbing the stone and taking it through the portal before it closed.

I've posted a lot of what im about to say before so this is just me combining everything to hopefully make the unanswered questions that you have clearer. If you any questions (probably hundreds ahaha) just let me know and I'll try my best to explain. Sorry this is so long as well.
Siobhan is Lilith. I have zero doubt about this. The symbolism with the owls, wild dogs, demonic connections plus the babies and the need to take over the male world makes this theory so clear. This gives her a backstory and explains how she gained powers and why she has been around for so long. It also further explains her motives.
https://www.biblicalarchaeology.org/daily/people-cultures-in-the-bible/people-in-the-bible/lilith/
Siobhan, takes desperate women looking to have it all including having a child and take advantage of that. The women get to decide, to either give up their child and have exactly what they desire or not. However, the one's that see Siobhan's vision and have the qualities to do so are able to join the cult. This group are called the Delicates, a group of satanic witches. The oppressed becoming the oppressors.
Ivy, a long lasting member, died during birth and was rebirthed by Siobhan. Ivy and her two children join the cult and Siobhan gives them all powers. At some point, Ivy lashes out onto Adeline, throwing her across the room, causing her to bleed and then spitting on her. The blood spat lands besides Adeline's lip and Ivy notices this and smears blood on both her own chin and Sonia's, and then declaring how they're now blood bound. The mark is now permanently on all the cult members and soon to be members chins. Adeline doesn't approve of most of what's happening in the cult, just because she was born into it, doesn't mean its for her, and eventually she leaves and Siobhan takes away her power.
At some point, Siobhan meets Dex's dad and later births Dex, a human, a special creation that isn't a demon for the first time ever. Something Siobhan thought would be impossible. Adeline knew about Dex and eventually married him to "give her the middle finger" which is why Adeline didn't want to have kids with Dex. Virginia, Dex's mum, takes care and raises Dex however, she is also drained of blood constantly, which is used for experiments and feeding the babies. Siobhan makes a deal Dr Hill to provide her the mother's babies and she'll make him the most popular fertility specialist and most good looking in NYC. He just has to work for her.
For leaving the cult and marrying Dex, Adeline is coldly killed. Talia, her best friend, managed to join the cult through just being around Adeline. She is also instructed to match Dex with Anna since Talia is also close with him.
Nicolette stalked Anna as a child and implanted all the qualities needed for her to be a perfect maker for the new demon babies. Qualifies such as 'selfish, entitled, vain and ambitious'
Once Anna is older, Siobhan meets her during an IVF meet up and soon she becomes Anna's PR. She is also the reason Anna goes and sees Dr Hill. The Delicates, are evil and mischievous. They are constantly messing with Anna, hallucinations and appearing randomly and watching over Anna. They like to play games and mess with people, including Adeline, making her play the knife game and getting her to try and guess who was the masked witch even while restrained.
The dolls Anna finds aren't so much VooDoo dolls but more so showing the events that will happen or have happened to Anna. Mangled leg doll- paralysis or snake legs, the doll with hair missing and blood- Anna loosing hair and bleeding, the doll with nails in its stomach- intentional miscarriage etc. These dolls are all placed in areas they know Anna will find them while also creating a pentagram. The dolls act like warnings and also directly telling Anna whats gonna happen to her to her face without making it obvious, because the witches are dicks lol. The dolls show the witches plans.
Dex eventually meets Cora, an assistant that works at client simply to pay off her student loans and they sleep together, chesting on Anna. Not only that, he buys her an apartment and sets up cameras so she can watch him and Anna whenever. She slowly became obsessed with Anna, wanting to be her until Dex broke the relationship off, causing her to feel rage and she ultimately attempts to destroy Anna's happiness by moving appointment dates around, leaving medicine out and breaking into the apartment and scaring Anna during the night. Cora also sexual assaults Anna. Cora eventually regrets her actions and during the Oscars she meets up with Anna. When she realises Anna knew who she was she snapped again and revealed everything to her, including the fact that Cora knows that Dr Hill does horrible stuff behind the scenes.
Nicolette is assigned the task to watch over Anna in the house that Talia allowed them to stay in.
Mrs Preecher only wants to warn Anna, about everything she went through is constantly following Anna everything to get her attention. She tries to warn all the women she believes is involved in the cult somehow. She is later killed by the group and her blood is used in experiments.
Siobhan uses men to have babies, like Dex's dad and Hamish. She grants these men and others with power and fame. Siobhan working for Hollywood also shares light into the demoic and satanic practices within Hollywood that's been going on.
Ivy murdered Anna's child in the hospital, causing the miscarriage. Later Anna goes down into the basement and sees a secret tunnel. This is where Anna sees experimented babies in glass jars and she is then kidnapped and the new demon child is created inside Anna.
During the Oscars, Siobhan asks Anna how much she wants the Oscar, Anna says do anything. Siobhan touches Anna's stomach and says "anything?" Anna nodes and Siobhan congratulates her just before her win is officially announced, showing Siohad full control. Then they kiss, sealing the deal, a kiss of death. This also goes back to when Miss Preecher kisses Anna in episode 1 during a hallucination with blood pouring out her mouth after ripping out her tongue.
Anna sees her mother while she is on stage, possibly another gift from Siobhan for giving up the baby.
Now for the finale episode, the real pain in the butt for me to work out but I think I got it. I'll just discuss everything I think was important.
"My little spies" Siobhan announces when the owl and cat appear. Meaning these two were always watching Anna, from the skies, trees, home and everywhere.
Anna wakes up in a red version of her old apartment. I believe this is hell and after Anna was stabbed in the back and lost so much blood already during birth, I think she died, like Ivy did and was rebirthed and is now in hell with the rest of the witches. The paintings are screaming at her and calling her names, the rooms are coloured blood red and Siobhan even waters a tree with blood. Not very 'Earthly' and they're all satanic.
Siobhan tells Anna that Dex's sperm and Siobhan's eggs were used to create the perfect breed.
We learn that the witches recruit who want to have it all, a career, motherhood and marriage. Exactly what Anna wants.
Siobhan paralysed Anna for going back on the agreement by trying to take the baby back. Anna also notices Siobhan did that to her when she see the blood on Siobhan's nail.
Anna enters a room filled with babies and blood storage containers. In the centre there is a blood/ organ fountain for decoration, its hell, its gonna be fucked.
Siobhan kills Ivy for killing her son. She does it quickly and coldly. This could mean the reason there are so many witches is because she keeps killing them, she doesn't care and neither does anyone else in the cult, they even killed Adeline and probably many before without hesitation. "Will she resurrect?" Talia asks and Siobhan says "she doesn't need to" showing how Siobhan is in control over their lives, she can choose for them to be dead or not.
The lack of babies in the room is because they kill many for experiments, blood for youthfulness and possibly for not being pure enough. Talia's basement had an entire corridor of dead babies.
The demons being made are being built to have strong and super qualities, strength, swiftness, ruthlessness etc. But the ones made made with Siobhan's eggs and Dex's sperm will be the most powerful, charging the army to Earth and killing all men and only keeping a select few as sex slaves to keep repopulating the world. Lilith's ultimate goal, removing the men from the world so women can rule, further proving Siobhan is Lilith.
Before, Siobhan tells Anna "if you hold him (the baby) you join us" and that's exactly what Anna does. She takes the baby and the green heals appear, showing that she now has eternal youth, power and beauty, Siobhan has giving her powers like she did with the other witches.
After a few chats, Anna is left alone, singing the song she once bonded over with her old friend until Adeline appears. They're in hell, the spirit realm, Adeline is now a spirit and finally can connect with Anna while she's alone. She tells her a spell, a spell that banishes the darkness and evil. Adeline couldn't preform the banishing spell before because Siobhan had taken her abilities away from her once she left, but Anna just got her abilities. Siobhan enters the room and they both chant, only Anna is really doing anything, Adeline is just there for encouragement lol. Siobhan is then banished from the room along with the child, not killed, just sent elsewhere. Hestia takes care of the home, so calling upon her and her white protection banished darkness away from your place. Since they were in version of Anna's apartment in hell, Hestia took away the darkness and Anna headed out from hell into a white room blessed by Hestia (or its heaven) where Anna's unborn miscarried child is present. A spider crawls around and Anna picks it up and squashes it, representing her overcoming the darkness and fears and the oppression.
Anna also took Siobhan's hat, symbolising her overpowering her and having the ability the step into a new version of herself, one that has no fear, has power and strength, one that is no longer opressed by anyone and one that has it all, a baby, an Oscar and the powers given to her and a secure safe home for herself and her child.
Also the witches aren't dead because you can hear them all chanting around Anna in the white room.
Also, the mirror cracks the same way it cracked in on of the eariler episodes. My guess is the mirror cracked in the earlier episode from Siobhan and in the last in cracked from Anna, literally mirroring how they have similar power now after Siobhan gave Anna power.
I'm gonna end this with currently the only official statement given to us by the writer of the season.
"The message of course, is not that women should not have it all, but rather woman that "having it all" is not possible within a patriarchy- and that the only way for women to have power is for them to ascribe to the same oppressive systems that have held them back for so long, as they in turn oppress others."

DISCLAIMER: I am NOT very good at narrating fight scenes so it may end up being a bit overly cinematic and awkward. Apologies in advance.
Special thanks to u/SpacePaladin15 for creating the NoP universe.
I'd also like to thank u/xskipy10 for their awesome fanart of the main cast as well as their recent Tohba meme and their fanart of Michael baysitting. You're work is a treasure!
Thank you as well to u/Accomplished-Golf-59 for his take on Michael, Teylim, and Tohba in his submission for the Banner Art Contest, and u/Spacer_Catgirl4969 for their awesome music video featuring a pixel-art Dohkar in his bar. Be sure to give ALL of these awesome creators your love and support.
And let's not forget u/Guywhoexists2812 who has been an awesome source of memes as well as sick pixel art, such as THIS and THIS!!!! And even THIS!!!!!! Thank you so much!
Today, we join Michael as he is shown Lohrek's old music studio, and Tey does her absolute best to prove to him that he deserves to be loved and cherished for who he is. Will Michael finally learn to accept the love and affection that his family is all too willing to give? LETTUCE...continue...
CW: Violence, Death, Mild Implied Gore
First
Previous
Songs Mentioned/Used: Free Bird by Lynyrd Skynyrd
Memory Transcript Subject: Dohkar, Venlil Bartender Date:[Standardized Human Trme] January 15, 2137
The silence… The pure, deafening, silence was the worst part of all of this. My bar…my bar that I had all the love and pride for in the world…the symbol of my second chance at life…was in shambles.
The windows were shattered, the door broken off it’s hinges. Shelves full of memorabilia from my life, and the lives of those I cared about were knocked to the ground, their contents scattered and broken.
The air was full of fear. Anyone who didn’t manage to get out in time were now lined up against the walls at flamer-point. Parents held onto their confused and frightened pups, keeping themselves between them and the pilot lights.
Khornel was surrounded on all sides. The table she’d hid behind saved her from the glass shards of the windows blasting in, but once the exterminators were inside, there wasn’t anything she could do.
Mike was cornered on the stage. The semi-circle of fans and listeners had been replaced with a ring of fire. There had to be at least a dozen officers in this bar, and over half of them were all closing in on him. It was just like what happened to Loh all over again. The way they encircled him, slowly inching closer, while I once again could do nothing.
I stared across the bar at another flamer pointed directly at me. It’s wielder stared at me with eyes full of spite and hatred through the tinted visor. My paws twitched slightly. After what happened to Loh, I’d made it a point to keep a weapon under the bar just in case of something like this happening again, but if I so much as moved, I’d be in flames before I could even think of helping Mike.
“You filthy, tainted, TRAITOR! Every single officer here looked up to you like a hero! How could you throw in your lot with predator filth?!
For a moment, any fear or worry I did have was replaced with annoyance and anger. These morons, these misguided fools still believed that I was someone to be admired? Was THIS what my legacy led to? Holding a bar full of innocent people hostage?
“Oh yes, I, Dohkar the Star Exterminator who took down an entire pack of shadebeasts by myself. That’s the story you were told, right?”
Their grip on the flamer tightened, but I could still see their shaky resolve.
“Well it’s a LIE. That “pack” was just a family of four. One sickly mother shadebeast and three pups. And I killed them all in the slowest, most painful way possible, with fire. And in the process, I maimed an innocent child and got her locked away in that torture facility for EIGHTEEN CYCLES.”
It was hard to tell if they believed me or not, but it didn’t stop them from doubling down on their twisted beliefs.
“You were everything all of us strived to be. The harsh training, the missed meals, Albiel’s punishments, we put up with all of it was so we could be even HALF the exterminator you were. So that MAYBE we could become what The Chief wanted you to be. But now I know the truth. You’re nothing but a disgrace!”
“A disgrace?! The gall!”
My heartrate spiked as my eyes turned to Telvrin, still sat at his stool. His eyes were filled with disgust as he glared at the exterminator in front of me.
“Shut it, old man!”
“No. You listen here, you whiny, little, brat! I was an exterminator for longer than you’ve even been alive. And I have NEVER been so disgusted by a Guild’s actions in my life. Ha! I thought all that nonsense in Dawn Creek was just propaganda until I found out what you lot were up to!”
“Telvrin, don’t do anything stupid.”
He ignored me, hopping from his stool and getting straight in the exterminator’s face. Other officers in the bar turned and began watching the old exterminator’s rant, just waiting for an excuse.
“We, ALL OF US, are born with a natural fear of predators. We can’t control it, but that’s why WE exist. Exterminators are meant to fight AGAINST that fear, making the galaxy a safe place so the people can live their lives free of the fear programmed into them. But you? You wield that fear like some kind of sick cudgel against the very people you're SUPPOSED to protect!”
“BACK OFF!”
“You call Dohkar a disgrace, but he had this parody of a Guild pegged from the beginning. You lot are the very antithesis of everything we exterminators are supposed to be!”
[Warning!: Anxiety Response Spiking Rapidly!: Attempting To Compensate…]
“Telvrin, STOP!!!”
I panicked as I pleaded with him. I wasn’t the only one. Many in the bar were silently begging for him to just shut up and stop antagonizing them. The other exterminators began slowly closing in. Every last bit of tension in the room was concentrating in one spot.
“I’M WARNING YOU, OLD MAN!”
“Dohkar isn’t the disgrace here. YOU ARE! That musician on stage may be a human, but the only predator I see is YO-“
PTTCCHHZZZZZZZZZZZTT!!!!!!!!
[Warning!: Transcript File Corrupting!: Memory Overlap Detected!]
. . .
I see Loh in the exact center of a room, tied down to a chair. I know what that chair is. I know what it does. I want to reach through the screen, pull him free, but I can’t…
PROTECT…HERD…
“Dohkar…They say this message will be sent to you… I know what they mean to do…but you mustn’t blame yourself. All I ask is that you watch over them. Watch over my family, Dohkar…”
“HURRY IT UP, PRIMITIVE!!”
A voice shouts from just off-screen. I want to reach through the screen, and tear them apart for what they’re about to do, but I can’t…
MUST…HERD…PROTECT…HERD…
“We…found out the gender… Did I tell you that? It’s a boy, Dohkar. We’re going to have a precious little baby boy…”
“I SAID HURRY IT UP, TAINT!!”
“Maximum charge…”
“Sir?”
“I said…MAXIMUM…”
“Y-yes, sir…”
That voice… It’s him… Albiel... He knows what that chair will do… He knows…and he doesn’t care…
NOT…HERD…KILL…NOT…HERD…
VVRRRRRRRRRMMMMM!!!!
Loh… Please…
HERD…PROTECT…HERD…
“Protect him, Dohkar. Protect my son… We’ve already picked out a name… His name… My son’s name will be-“
“Now…”
PTTCCHHZZZZZZZZZZZTT!!!!!!!!
“TOOOOOHHHHBAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!! TEYLIM!!!! TOOOOOOHHHHBBBBBAAAAAAAAA!!!!!”
[WARNING! WARNING!: STRESS LEVELS FAR EXCEEDING ACCEPTABLE PARAMETERS!]
My claws dig into my paws as my fists clench, drawing blood.
Rage… PROTECT…HERD…
My teeth squeak and squeal as the grind against each other…
Anger…. PROTECT…HERD…
An audible growl escapes my muzzle as I glare at the exterminator standing over Telvrin, shock baton still in hand. Every herd member in the room stares on, their own anger building as the glare daggers at the monster that just struck down one of their own.
NOT…HERD…KILL…KILL…KILL…
My gaze shoots towards the corner of the room as I instantly notice the circle around Michael closing in…
HERD…PROTECT…HERD…
“Any last words, Predator?”
I have to help. I have to do something. I can’t let one more single member of the herd get hurt… No more… No more! NO MORE!!!
PROTECT…GUARD…FIGHT…KILL…
My sight focuses. Something in my legs wants to do something I’m not sure they’re even capable of. Something in my face feels like it should be moving, sensing, huffing, but the only thing there is my mouth.
I focus on Michael, looking for any way I can help him. He gives me a look. He knows about my hidden weapon. He gives me a wink…before bringing the mic closer to the speakers…
I know what he’s doing…
My ears pin back in anticipation for what will come next. Many of the herd around me notice, and follow suit, covering their ears. Knowing full well what will happen with the mic so close, Michael let’s out his war cry.
“FUCK THE GUILD!!!!!”
His shout is immediately followed my an ear-splitting, teeth-rattling ring as the microphone sends feedback through the speakers. The exterminators closest to him collapse entirely, dropping their weapons and writhing on the ground, clasping their ears. The one in front of me drops their weapon as well. Any who don’t are still sent reeling from the sound. Before any of three can recover. He cries again.
“FUCK THE FEDERATION!!!!”
Another shout. Another ear-piercing ring. Many have now taken a knee, trying frantically to cover their ears under their suits. One finally finds the strength to stand back up right in front of Michael. But before they can try anything, Michael cries one last time.
“AND FUCK…!”
“YOU!!!!!!!!!”
PANG!!! CRASH!!!!!
Time slows as Michael picks up the mic stand and swings it, the weighted base making contact with the beleaguered exterminator’s visor, shattering it and sending them flying directly into a table.
Everyone freezes. Herd, exterminators, everyone. We all freeze, just staring at the limp exterminator, laying against the overturned table. All except me. I had my distraction. I had my opening.
I’m not sure when Michael’s pad was knocked over, nor did I know what song it had randomly decided to start playing over the speakers. But as I pulled out the sidearm from under the counter, and aimed it directly at the head of the exterminator that had electrocuted Loh Telvrin, I didn’t care either.
NOT…HERD…PROTECT…HERD…
I simply let the calm, soothing, chords of the organ calm my nerves as I aimed…and fired…
BANG!!!
LORD, HELP ME!!!
I CAN’T…CHAAAAAAAAAANGE!!!!!
And just like that…the whole herd around me, upon seeing what these INTRUDERS!!! NOT…HERD…
These ATTACKERS!!! NOT…HERD…
THESE PREDATORS HAD DONE TO ONE OF OUR OWN, they moved in as one. Without their fire, without their power, without our fear, these attackers no longer had any control over the herd.
We descended on them like animals.
LOOOORD, I CAN’T CHANGE!!!
WON’T YOU FLYYYYY HIIIIIIGH, FREEEEE BIIIIIIIRD!!! YEEEAAAHHH!!!!
PROTECT...THE...HERD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Wailing guitars filled my ears as I hopped over the counter and charged. My gaze darted from herd member to herd member in a daze.
Multiple herd tackling a lone attacker to the ground.
Threat neutralized…
I duck under a shock baton from my right. My tail swings almost on its own, sweeping their legs out from under them. They only get to grunt from the fall before a bolt silences them.
BANG!!!
Threat neutralized…
I look up and see another of the herd. She’s fending off additional attackers from behind cover. Another attacker approaches her from behind.
PROTECT THE HERD!!!
BANG!!!
The attacker cries out as another bolt from my weapon catches their knee, sending them to the ground. The herd member’s feathers ruffle when she sees the threat. A kick to the head knocks the attacker unconscious.
Threat neutralized…
“DOHK!!! DUCK!!!”
My gaze shoots forwards, seeing the large member of the herd in front of me. His forward facing eyes, blue eyes glare with hatred at something behind me. I duck forward as he sends a glass mug soaring over my head.
SMASH!!!
My eyes follow the mug as it smashes directly into the visor of another attacker, staggering them and opening them up for a shot.
BANG!!!
Threat neutralized.
I turn back towards the herd member to thank him, only to spot another attacker coming up behind him with a flamer.
PROTECT THE HERD!!!
I won’t fail him again…
BANG!!!
The bolt catches the attacker in the shoulder, making them drop their weapon and use their free paw to grab at their wound. They don’t have time to react before the mic stand connects, smashing them to the ground.
PANG!!!
Threat neutralized.
He turns back to me and nods before moving to protect his fellow herd mates. My gaze darts to the left as I hear a frightened shriek. A pair of pups is being chased by an attacker. They dare attack the children as well?
PROTECT THE HERD!!!
I raise my sidearm, but hold my fire as another herd member shrieks in rage, placing herself between the attacker and her children. Her teeth and claws flash as they’re brought to bear.
“Not MY pups, you BITCH!!!”
Another shriek erupts from the mother as she flings herself at the attacker, scratching and clawing and biting, before finally getting a good grasp on them.
“SCULLY!!”
I follow her gaze back towards another herd member, guarding the children. His eyes widen with realization as he immediately turns around and puffs out the quills on his back like a wall of spikes. The attacker cries out in pain as the mother flings them in his direction. I don’t need to watch the rest.
Threat neutralized.
“MICHAEL!!!”
I immediately turn back to my right and reel in horror as I see an attacker jamming a shock prod into the side of the large herd member.
PROTECT THE HERD!
He growls in pain as he drops to one knee. I raise my sidearm to fire, but someone else does before me.
BANG!!!
The feathered herdmate throws her sidearm to the ground and runs over to the downed attacker, holding the wound in their leg where the bolt hit. Before they can so much as speak, she plants her foot in their gut, before continuing to kick and stomp at them.
“YOU! DON’T! BRAHKING! HURT! HIM! YOU! BRAHKING!-“
“‘Nel! ‘NEL! Easy! Easy! I think you got ‘em!”
[Warning!: Stress Levels Returning To Acceptable Levels!: Transcript Integrity Verified…]
The herd mem- No. Mike’s words finally seem to snap me out of my haze. A shook my head before cradling it in my paws. My head was throbbing, but the music had stopped…and things were finally quiet.
I looked back up at Michael and Khornel. He had a hand on his side while still keeping the other on Khornel’s shoulder. She was a complete nervous wreck now that the adrenaline had worn off.
“Are…a-a-are you okay?”
“Yeah… A bit done around the edges, but I’m fine. You saved me.”
He looked back towards me, giving me a weak smile.
“You both did.”
I…did...? I…DID save him…protect him… At least…I think I did…
My mind was a complete mess. Every last bit of me ached. My chest felt like it was twisting in knots as I panted and huffed to try and get a hold of my breathing.
What the HELL happened?
The herd…
My mind focuses and I turn around.
“Is everyone alright?”
I looked back at the rest of the bar. It was an even bigger mess than before, but…it was quiet again. A dozen exterminators littered the floor of my bar. It was hard to tell which, if any, were still alive, but they were all down.
That wasn’t what I was worried about, though. I was more worried about my people.
Protect the herd…
The parents that had been holding their pups were now covered in cuts and bruises, but their children were safe and unharmed, if more than a title terrified. Trivah and Scullen looked particularly bad, slumped over next to the booth they’d been sitting at before. Trivah was more roughed up, and her paws had a rather unhealthy amount of orange on them that I was guessing wasn’t hers.
Scullen , on the other paw, just seemed exhausted, but had more than a little bit of that orange on his back, coating his quills. They were both a wreck, but alive, and holding each other.
Thankfully, Trilly and Dailo were perfectly safe, hidden underneath the booth’s table. Scared, worried, and definitely needing help, but safe.
Safe…
Suddenly, my mind immediately remembers how this whole thing started.
TELVRIN!
Protect the herd…
I sprinted back towards the bar and immediately found him. His heartbeat was faint and irregular, but it was there. Still, he was already an old man who had no place getting into fights like this. Those shock batons might have adjustable settings, but even the weakest setting couldn’t be good for his health. He needed a doctor, and he wasn’t the only one.
“Who has their pad?! Someone get Dr. Forrik on the line!”
“O-on it!”
Khornel went back to her table and found her pad. The screen was cracked, but from the looks of it, she was still able to use it.
“W-what should we do with…them…”
Many in the crowd looked at the downed exterminators nervously. The intensity of the moment and rush of adrenaline had long since worn off from all of us.
“Tie up the ones that are still alive. The ones that aren’t…toss them outside…”
Reluctantly, the townspeople began following my orders, gathering weapons and supplies from the exterminators. I…decided to handle the bodies myself…
The rest simply continued restraining the officers still alive and doing their best to tend to our wounded until Dr. Forrik arrived.
“I’ve called him! He’s on his way with an ambulance!”
A vice rang out from deeper in the bar.
“We’ll never move everyone with just one ambulance!”
I already could feel an argument brewing between everyone, but with what’s going on, that was the LAST thing we needed.
“Then keep searching the exterminators until you find one with keys. We’ll use the exterminator vans outside to transport the wounded. Get to it!”
The bar came to life with movement as we all got back to work. Thankfully, we didn’t have to wait long for Dr. Forrik to arrive with the ambulance. He and his nurse staff only paused for a moment when they saw the state of my bar.
“Tenets preserve… What the hell happened here?”
“THEY happened.”
Mike pointed an accusatory finger at the small group of unconscious and wounded exterminators tied up in the corner of the room…along with the half a dozen dead ones outside…
Why… Why couldn’t you have just listened?
Pointless. This was ALL so damned POINTLESS! None of it had to be this way! Not just this paw, not just this town, but this whole damn pointless war!
I did my best to focus on working, helping Dr. Forrik load the wounded onto the ambulance and the exterminator vans, starting with the most in need of help…Telvrin…
Trivah was next, and was followed out by the rest of her family. Many others had been injured from the sudden all-out brawl. I still didn’t understand what came over me, over ALL of us. Something about seeing Telvrin get electrocuted just set something off in my head…
Protect the herd…
Once everyone was loaded up and on their way to the clinic, the only ones left in the bar were me, Mike, Khornel, and the other half of the patrons who were still unharmed. Mike was the first to speak up.
“What were they doing here, Dohk? Why attack NOW?”
I thought for a moment. The fact is, we knew SOMETHING would happen, just not when, where, or why. I tried to think back.
It was right when Mike was finishing his first song when I got a call on my pad from that prick, Agent Tevis. I didn’t get the full picture from him, but he mentioned losing contact with his team inside the Guild Office. Why he wasn’t doing any investigating himself was anyone’s guess. But him losing contact with the rest of the investigation team and THEN The Guild decides to attack? That CAN’T be a coincidence.
I still didn’t have enough information to make a solid theory, but it seemed to me that those investigators might have finally found the smoking gun they were looking for. Even so, that alone wouldn’t be enough to elicit this kind of response on its own.
Then…a thought occurred to me, something I hadn’t really considered. But after Mike rubbed at his side again, most likely nursing the small burn he got from the shock baton, I remembered something from my time with The Guild… Suddenly, it clicked…
I wonder…
“Tell me… On Earth, what happens when you corner an injured animal…?”
Mike seemed to think for a moment before responding.
“It…lashes out…”
I knew it.
That had to be it. Hell, this wouldn’t even be the first time it’s happened. In recent cycles, even before first contact with the humans, more and more Guilds and facilities had been getting exposed for the corrupt disgraced that they are. And almost every single time, those organizations begin to lash out as soon as they start losing control.
And now it was happening here. The whole town, even their once fervent followers have turned on them, protesting at their door. The Magistrate has them under investigation, and now, with no more allies and no more sway, they’ve now been backed into a corner.
“That’s what you think this was? Them ‘lashing out?’”
“Until we know more, yes. I think The Guild and facility’s leaderships are getting ready to make a break for it, and THIS was just them tying up any loose ends on the way out.”
A grim atmosphere fell over the bar. It only broke when Mike’s head shot back up, his eyes wide with realization…and horror…
“Wait…ANY loose ends?!”
As soon as I saw the sheer terror in his eyes, I knew EXACTLY what he meant.
[Warning!: Stress Response Spiking Rapidly!: Attempting To Compensate…]
TEYLIM!
Protect the herd!
They wouldn’t!
They would… They have…
I checked my sidearm. It still had decent charge left in it. I would’ve charged out the door right then and there…if I didn’t still have a whole bar full of panicked people to look after. Instead, I walked up to Mike…and held out the weapon, pointing out the three things he’d need to know.
“Cartridge release, safety, trigger. Keep your finger off of it until you’re ready to fire. GO.”
Leaving Teyrin here, he grabbed the weapon and darted for the door, only to be stopped by Khornel.
“I’m coming with you.”
“You sure?”
She simply nodded, and the two were off.
Please… PLEASE be alright…
With an aching pain in my chest, I turned and headed back towards the kitchen where I’d left my pad.
I had a call to make…
That incompetent bastard Tevis BETTER still be alive!!!
Next

I’m trapped. I can hear that thing lumbering through the hallway. My God, what the hell is it? I’m trying my best to keep quiet but I can’t help but whimper. The soft scratching of my pencil on this notepad sounds deafening in the quiet of this tiny closet. I’m almost certainly gonna die in this place. I just hope someone can find this, maybe it will do some good. Or maybe it already doesn’t matter. I’m not sure how long I have until that wheezing thing finds me. Oh God, or that grey stuff might ooze under the door and dissolve me. Oh my God! What it did to Benny, Bill, Jonesy and Donald! To all of them! Even if I don’t survive, the world needs to be warned!
Long story short, I was a cop but I got shot in the head. The doctors said I was lucky, that it went straight through without hitting anything vital. However, I still needed three steel plates to hold my fragmented skull together. Also ended up with permanent tremors in my right hand from brain damage. So it’s no surprise that my cop career didn’t thrive. Just a year later I was a “retired” 45-year-old cop, living on scraps. After a few months, I started to get desperate for work. One evening at my pub, my friend, Graham, mentioned an acquaintance who was looking for employees for some private research institute in the Mojave Desert. “What, are they still blowing A-bombs out there?” I scoffed, eyebrows arched with bemused incredulity. Graham stared down at his beer, “Not sure what the hell they do. But they pay super well, so who cares,” he took a long sip of beer, foam clinging to his lips, “I think it would be a good fit for you”.
Turns out this facility, and it really is known as the “Facility”, was located in the middle of nowhere. When I looked it up online I couldn’t find any information. Later that week I called the number that Graham had scrawled down for me on a beer stained napkin. My right hand was useless to me if I wanted it to do anything that required fine motor function, so when I dialed the number on my phone I had to use my left hand. The phone rang twice before a metallic feminine voice answered and said to hold for an operator. After a few seconds of muted elevator music, I spoke to a soft voiced man who told me my skill set was perfect for their current vacancy: a security management position. He said if I filled out some forms they would pay for me to fly on out for an interview in person.
One month and several NDAs later, I was employed again! By the time I started my new job I realized I had no idea what research went on down here. During the interviews my duties as a security manager had been discussed but any mention of their actual research interests had been carefully avoided, redacted or omitted. The security staff were also told to avoid fraternizing with anyone not from their own department, including security personnel from other sections of the Facility. On my first day I asked others about the nature of the Facility’s research, but no one had any interest. “Just stick to your contract. No point in rocking the boat,” my new boss, Bill, said to me curtly. So since then I’ve not discussed it with anyone else.
If only I had, maybe I would have seen this coming. The section of the Facility which I managed was section B.15. This area, like most of the core Facility, was located several hundred feet below the sun scorched surface of the Mojave Desert and comprised many green painted corridors peppered with tall, wide doors made from dark, stainless steel. The rooms inside were large and sterile. Artefacts were cleaned and studied in these rooms after they were brought from the excavation sites (sites E.1 through E.27). Of course, whether we wanted to know the nature of the research or not, eventually, after patrolling some of the research labs for weeks, it wasn’t difficult to figure out that the scientists were mostly archeologists or paleontologists. I would often find objects of different sizes and shapes lying around in various states of cleanliness. Some looked like ancient amphoras, or large stone bird baths. Others were less identifiable: a chipped statue, a melted lump of some unidentifiable metal or large chunks of a glass-like material. I found this all extremely curious because, as far as I knew, the Mojave Desert didn’t have much in the way of ancient architecture. At least of any ancient civilization that I know.
As the months went by I started to get friendly with the other guards, most of them ex-cops too, and we started playing cards and drinking Irish coffee in the evenings. My two main colleagues consisted of a jovial, short man with orange hair named Jonesy and a much older much grumpier and much balder man, Donald. They were good men and we had a lot of laughs together. My stomach twists when I think about where they are now. Though I grew fonder of my fellow guards, I found myself developing a severe dislike for the white coated researchers. Most of them were pernicious and arrogant. The only scientist my security buddies and me could stand was a scrawny man named Benny. Our favorite thing about Benny was that he never talked about his work.
It was earlier today, at around 1400h, when all the scientists were running from their rooms. They must have received some message a few minutes before and we watched them from the surveillance monitors as they got all excited and leapt up. Their lab coats flapped and flowed around as they jumped to their feet and made for the main exit. Soon after this the large red landline phone near my video surveillance desk began to ring. Expecting the call, I picked up the receiver before the first ring finished, “Hey boss, what’s all the excitement about?” Bill’s voice was uncharacteristically hesitant “The diggers have found a friggin’ huge object out here! The biggest thing they’ve ever dug up, it’s really irregular. They want to bring it to B.15 and I need you to organize the logistics and security”. My brow furrowed, “I guess it’s too big for the main entrance? Maybe we could bring it in via the big doors of the auxiliary hangar?” Bill grunted with agreement, “Yea, we’ll have to improvise a bit but should be manageable. I have no idea what it is… well you’ll see for yourself. I’ll get some of the boys from B.14 to help you out. And just, well…” He paused for a moment, “just be careful.” I grunted, my eyebrow arched from surprise; why was he so afraid? “Um thanks, appreciate it, see you guys soon”.
Donald, Jonesy and I had coffee in the office and called the guards at the hangar doors to arrange clearance. About an hour later we were at the platform near the doors waiting for the cargo to arrive. The massive metal hangar doors had been opened, which was rare. What was more irregular was that nearly every staff member from sections B.11 to B.18 were all gathered together in a silent knot of people. Despite the silence the air sizzled with anticipation, as well as the searing heat. I stood transfixed from curiosity at the massive doorway, waiting in the shade of the hangar as the relentless sun beat down outside. In the distance I saw a black speck grow larger against the bright blue sky. Slowly it took the form of a helicopter which was carrying a large rectangular shaped mass below it.
Within less than a minute the helicopter made its cacophonous approach toward the hangar and gently lowered the object onto an enormous wooden scaffold. I barked orders and signed forms as the guards rushed about, making sure the other personnel stayed a safe distance away. The air was blaring with the sound of the helicopter blades and sand rocketed into my face, forcing me to splutter. “Alright, let’s get this thing processed!” I yelled over the sound of the helicopter as its engines powered down, my colleagues and I wiped dirt from our faces. Bill emerged swiftly from the chopper and shook my hand. We quickly reviewed the paper work he gave me and then he made his way back downstairs to his office in section B.1. He was keen to get away for some reason.
“Alright, it’s officially in my care now. Show’s over. Get the non-essential personnel out of here immediately and secure the object. I want to get Benny up here to analyze it ASAP.” As my colleagues cleared away most of the staff and the excitement died down I was finally able to take a moment to inspect the object. It had been lowered onto the wooden scaffold fitted with wheels just outside the hangar and had been pushed slowly into the center. The few aircraft in this hangar were all currently under repairs and were non-operational, therefore there was plenty of space. As soon as I saw the sheer size of the object, I knew it would be difficult to transport, but not impossible. The object was a wall. Or a large fragment of a wall.
It was about twenty feet long, eight feet thick and ten feet high. At first the wall appeared made from some sort of boring grey stone. However, when I looked closer the wall was… alive. The wall’s surface bubbled slightly. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end as I stepped closer. When I was only a few inches away from it I felt cold. A bead of sweat ran down my cheek and I thought I heard something. It sounded like someone far away calling my name.
I felt a strange pressure around my head. A sudden invasive thought wormed to life: throw yourself into the wall. I shuddered and held myself back despite the sudden strong desire. I heard the faint voice of Benny and crashed back to reality. My eyes snapped open and I found my nose an inch away from the wall. It radiated cold like an open freezer and it smelled like rotting clay. The surface of the wall simmered ever so slightly. It reminded me of the fizz of some grey effervescent medicine. I paled as I took a large step backward, “I.. uh, what is this?” I turned to face Benny who stood with another scientist. He glanced at her briefly before he approached the wall to apply more straps. He was careful to avoid touching the wall with his bare skin. “Honestly, we have no idea”.
I got Donald and Jonesy to help Benny transport the wall down to room 278B via the service elevator. Donald grumbled about how badly the wall smelled and Jonesy had eyes as large as saucers when he saw it up close, “It looks so unreal!” Once downstairs I returned to my office to get some more coffee and file away the paperwork. I tried to put the strangeness of the wall out of my mind, but it had truly unnerved me. I felt so tired, my forehead drenched with cold sweat. I had been working extra shifts lately, but I had never been hit by such exhaustion so rapidly. As I sat at my desk facing the surveillance monitors I was unable to fight the sleep forcing my eyes shut.
I’ve had many hangovers in my life, most of them unpleasant, but when I woke up at my desk I’d never felt quite so singularly awful. My clothes were soaked with sweat and my whole body felt exhausted. My arms felt like molasses as I attempted to move. My forehead throbbed and I felt bruised. I also felt a pressure squeezing my head from all sides. It was quite peculiar. I sat back in my seat and rubbed my eyes.
Then I froze.
A hand was lying motionless on the floor just behind the table in the center of the office. I leapt to my feet and rushed forward. I gasped from horror as I saw Donald lying on the floor, his chest sliced to ribbons. Gallons of crimson red stained his blue uniform and his eyes stared up empty and terrified. Pallid and shaking I went to my office landline to call for backup immediately. As the receiver met my ear my stomach dropped into my feet.
The line was dead.
The sole means of communication within the core Facility is done through landlines. The landlines are monitored at all times and any interruption results in an immediate response from security. We had many protocols and fail safes to ensure communication remained enabled, but the line was dead and there was no sign of any response. In fact, how long had I been asleep? What was happening? I rushed back to the monitors. I hadn’t noticed it before but I couldn’t see anyone. The cameras were all operating normally but not a single person could be seen. The corridors were just as green and bare as most late evenings. I looked at the clock, it was only 1817h. I had slept for about two and a half hours. Where were the janitors? My heart was hammering in my chest and I couldn’t catch my breath. Meanwhile my head was throbbing and my eyes were burning. Suddenly I heard an indistinct whisper. Gooseflesh bloomed all over my back and arms.
I’d heard this voice before.
I’d heard this voice from the wall.
I turned to the monitors and searched for the wall. It had been brought back to the surface; the hangar! It sat upon the bare ground right by the massive doors. However, the doors were all sealed. The wall itself looked different. It was enormous! Almost three times longer and taller and wider. Just then, I realized that the titanium blast doors had been sealed as well. My heart rate doubled as I noticed large dents, scorch marks and scratches all over the doors. Someone had tried to break them down. The hangar floor was covered in blood and ash as well as abandoned weapons. My God, I even saw a rocket-launcher lying blackened and fractured near the doors. What the hell had happened?
I spun my head to look at the security control panel on the wall to my left. My heart, already blaring, felt like it leapt out of my mouth. My eyes grew wide as I realized someone, probably Donald, had activated a quarantine procedure. This meant that the entire Facility would be sealed airtight. The only way to open any doors now was from the outside. My God! Why had he done this? Where was everyone? Did he try to wake me? Did I really sleep through all this? I looked back at Donald, my heart still hammering from seeing his dead eyes stare into mine. I sighed sadly and glanced at the clock on the wall. It was currently 1831h. I returned to the monitors and began to rewind the security footage.
Surveying the screens, I watched my past-self enter the security office at around 1600h. By 1610h I had passed-out on my chair, drool dangling from my mouth. “Ok, so let’s see where the wall was at that time. Should be room 278B.” I thought to myself aloud as I clicked on the button that would display the footage from that room as well as the surrounding corridors. The screen was black as the footage loaded and I was about to hit the play button but hesitated. Did I really want to see this? I closed my eyes and took a few slow breaths. I can’t figure my way out of here if I don’t know what’s going on. I have to know. I hit play.
The camera was located opposite the door giving a full view of the room. At first everything seemed normal. Benny and some other scientists had transported the wall into room 278B. It was 1623h when they were taking the straps off the wall. A loud popping sound was heard and the researchers spun around. The lights in the room dimmed and flickered. Suddenly something long and slimy exploded from the wall, curled around Benny, and pulled him in. He screamed in terror as he vanished, his cries immediately silenced. My jaw dropped open and a small yell escaped me.
Without realizing it, I was instantly on my feet, shaking my head in pure denial. My heart burst. What the hell was that? What the hell? What the hell? My head was full of static. I felt tears in my eyes as I watched guards and researchers rush into the room. The wall shimmered, it’s simmering surface began to boil and bubble and it grew three feet higher. I saw it reshape itself so that intricately carved figures appeared on the wall’s edge. I leant in closer and gasped. One of those figures looked just like Benny, his mouth stretched open wide into a permanent scream. I didn’t want to continue watching, but I had to. The guards and researchers were horrified by what they saw before them. Suddenly, without warning, their body postures relaxed, their eyes grew glassy, and their arms fell slack at their sides. Those within the room moved as if sleepwalking. Some stayed still while others left the room. Brow furrowed from confusion and fear, my eyes swiveled to the footage of the corridor outside. The guards and researchers that had just exited 278B immediately began attacking and grappling those around them. I yelped as a vacant-eyed guard lazily shot another man in the leg. The thrall then dragged the wounded guard into room 278B. The mad guard held the wounded guard’s leg fast as he casually walked into the grey wall, pulling the struggling man in behind him. During this altercation I noticed Donald for the first time, he was hiding behind the corner of the corridor at the far end and was firing his gun at the madmen. He didn’t manage to hit anyone though. He then ran over to help a stray researcher to their feet and then they both ran down the corridor and out of view.
I can still hear the cries of pain and pleas for mercy as those who fell victim to the thralls were each dragged into that horrifying wall. With every person it swallowed, the wall wriggled and grew and grew. More and more ghastly decorations began to bloom on its surface, all of them made from the bones or likenesses of those who had been absorbed. The bigger it got the stronger its psychic influence became until it seemed to reach nearly everyone in the Facility, turning them into thralls. I looked on in horror as one by one, all janitors, researchers, guards, diggers, admin staff, everyone gradually stopped what they were doing, mid conversation, their eyes emptying. The janitors dropped their mops and buckets. Researchers dropped precious materials and equipment without care, letting them smash to pieces. In unison they all slowly, with vacant expressions, moved toward room 278B. Among the horde of thralls, I saw Bill and Jonesy, and so many others I knew by face. A guy who’d held the door for me once, a researcher who always slurped her coffee at lunch. Hundreds of people! What filled me with an unnamable dread was that I knew what was gonna happen. I knew what was coming. I tried to shout at the monitors, “Stop! Wait!” I grabbed the monitors and shook them with frustration.
A terror began to fill my stomach, deep and cold and aching. Suddenly I noticed Donald reappear on the screen. He was trying to hold back the researcher he’d helped earlier, but it was useless. I saw Donald, chest heaving from effort, stare with incredulity as he sat defeated on the ground. Everyone else around him stumbled dreamily toward their doom. But Donald refused to give up. I saw him run from corridor to corridor, trying desperately to stop them. He threw chairs and tables in their way but they simply pushed them aside or jumped over them. I saw him run toward this office. I saw him enter, saw myself slumped on my chair still completely unconscious. I saw Donald try to shake me awake, he slapped me a few times and was yelling in frustration. He gave up with me eventually and ran over to activate the quarantine lockdown. I saw him tear down the hall back toward room 278B, pistol in hand.
My best guess was that he saw what was happening in room 278B and decided he was gonna stop it. However, as soon as he got close to the door a long pale tendril burst through the door directly into Donald’s chest. The tentacle had a hooked end and it slashed at him. I saw blood spurt out of him, saw him stumble and fall from the ground in fright. However, he still managed to get a hold of his gun and fired multiple shots at the tendril. It writhed and flailed. Donald took the opportunity to climb to his feet. He grimaced and clasped his chest as crimson leaked to the floor. He moved back down the corridor, much more slowly than before. Eventually he got back to the office. He locked the door and then collapsed. I cried out in frustration. That whole time I was completely useless!
My mind felt like static again for a few seconds. I couldn’t work out what my next move should be. A thought hit me hard, one I should really have thought of before. Why had Donald and I not been psychically affected by the wall? Everyone had been enslaved, everyone had been forced to walk into that wall. Why not Donald? And me? I knew it must be connected to my horrendous sleepiness. My eyes grew wide with sudden realization. “Shit, the steel plates in my head!” Donald had a single steel plate in his skull because of a rock-climbing accident he had in his 20s. When I got close to the wall, had it sensed my resistance? Had it tried to incapacitate me? If so, it means this thing possesses sentience.
While I pondered this, I noticed some thralls re-strap the wall in room 278B. They transported it to the elevator and back up to the hangar. Once there, the thralls moved the wall off the scaffold onto the floor and began to beat heavily on the large metal doors with bare fists. Some even shot at the doors with their handguns. The ricochets killed a few of them but not one single person seemed to even notice. Some of the guards even used a rocket launcher! I yelled with shock as they fired at deadly close range, lazily blowing themselves up, leaving the doors scorched. After this proved futile, the thralls all grew suddenly rigid. Next, they all formed a line in front of the wall and one shambling step after another, all the remaining employees were - assimilated. Even the dead and wounded were not spared. Those still alive carried the corpses of their fellow thralls into the wall.
It was 1705h when the last employee disappeared forever into the grey horror, and the wall expanded to its current size. Without warning, a large writhing mass of twisted limbs emerged from the wall. I gasped from horror. I couldn’t tell exactly what it was because the lighting in the hangar wasn’t good enough, but it definitely wasn’t human. Its silhouette was about seven feet tall and thin and stretched. It had too many legs and it didn’t seem to have a head. This thing lumbered over to the doors and began to strike them with a strength and ferocity one would only find in a starving polar bear. I could tell that the doors were taking strain, and they began to bend, but even then, they would not yield. After about half an hour of smashing the door, the creature stopped and slowly shambled toward the stairs. My heart froze. It was coming here! Or was it here already?
My eyes swiveled back to the main monitor and I was surprised to see Donald still alive. He was scratched and bleeding badly as he shakily pushed himself from the floor. He then looked up at the ammunitions cupboard and began to search through his keys. I saw him curse. He couldn’t find the key with his trembling, bloodied fingers. In the next instant his eyes bulged and he heaved as if vomiting. His body doubled over and long grey tendrils oozed from his mouth and wriggled furiously. He grabbed his throat and fell forward onto the floor. Frozen in horror I watched as his body squirmed and he wriggled as if his intestines were filled with snakes. I continued to watch absolutely transfixed as three long grey tendrils emerged again from between Donald’s lips. Slowly they wriggled free of his mouth. They were about half a foot long, dull grey and thin like spaghetti.
I watched as they slithered toward my unconscious form on the monitor. I bit my lip and stood up. Slowly my brain put two and two together. Bile rose in my throat. I yelled at myself to wake up and see the worms. Just then my stomach dropped and I could feel an itchiness in my belly. I could feel the wriggling itch of a thousand grey eels in my gut. Or was I imagining it?
My stomach writhed and I was about to puke when I saw myself awake and stretch in my chair. The worms somehow realized I was awake and they moved out of view towards the –before I could watch the screen any longer, I heard a hiss and something slimy and long wrapped itself around my throat so tight I couldn’t breathe. I gasped with surprise and strained my neck to look at the monitor that showed the room in real time. I saw from the camera behind my head that something thin and grey had wrapped itself around my throat. I saw two more of those things coming at me from behind as well. They were about to come wriggling up my chair when I grimaced with anger and grabbed my gun from its holster. The thing around my neck was hissing and making awful clicking and guttural noises. Its small worm head had a mouth that bit and it latched onto my neck to suck my blood. I pulled at the leach and pressed my gun up against it. I pulled the trigger. With an earsplitting bang and a sound like a water balloon popping the leach was reduced to sticky goo. I pulled the remnants of the leach off my neck and spun around just in time to shoot and kill the others. I grinned with a mad-joy and yelled with relief. Immediately, a wave of nausea and exhaustion hit me and I fell back onto my chair. “What the hell was that? What the hell do I do now?” I sat still for a moment and tried not to lose my mind completely. I swear I could hear Woody the woodpecker laughing somewhere in the distance. I needed to keep it together. I took a long deep breath and tried to think of a way out.
Summarizing the details of my predicament, I realized I was trapped alone inside the Facility with an otherworldly force. Also, even if I found a way out, I’d potentially be letting an evil into the world that could destroy all life. At once an old thought returned to me, one I’d often experienced as a cop. “If I need to sacrifice myself to save others, I will do so without complaint.” A wry smile spread over my face. “Once a cop, always a cop.” My smile vanished as a I continued to think. “But my God, if this thing gets out. If it gets into the minds of other people. If it gets larger and larger. Could it swallow the world? The solar system? What other monstrosities would it unleash?” I was talking aloud now; the sound of my voice gave a new reality to my situation that made me shudder. I turned back to the monitor. It seems I was all caught up with what had happened. I stared blankly into the screen while I watched my past-self continue to wake and wince from pain. I switched the monitor off and saw my reflection in the blackness of the screen. I was pale and my eyes were wide and unblinking. “What do I do now?” I turned in my chair to look at Donald’s body. Were all those worms gone? Could some still be hiding? And what should be done with his body? Probably best to have it burned. “Poor Donald, he didn’t deserve this”, I muttered softly as I examined his corpse, making sure there were no unexplained twitches beneath his skin. My eyes moved from his body up to the ammunition’s cupboard just above. “Wait, why was he trying to get into the cupboard earlier? We don’t have much…”, my eyes grew large with realization. “Holy crap, he was trying to get the bomb! Me and Donald were gonna use a left-over bomb from the excavation site to blow some random shit up!”
I sighed sadly and heavily. We never got around to it. I stood up quickly and walked up to the cupboard. I pulled out my keys and quickly found the key I’d need. I opened the cupboard with little effort and found the ten kilos of plastic explosive inside. It had already been set up with a sixty second timer and a remote detonator by a colleague. I sat at the table with the explosive, a vague plan forming in my broken mind. “Maybe if I somehow get this wall-thing to eat this bomb then...”
Before I could formulate my thoughts fully, the lights flickered, and the entire Facility was plunged into darkness unceremoniously. My nerves were burning with fear. What had happened? Had that thing knocked the power out somehow? The next few seconds that past were some of the longest I’d ever experienced. However, dim green light bloomed to life and the reserve power kicked in. Then I heard slow, shuffling footsteps in the corridor just outside the office. I froze once again, my insides turning to mush. My mind raced. Had I remembered to lock the door? My stomach leapt into my feet as I heard the shuffling get louder and louder. I heard hoarse, wheezing breaths, as if the thing struggled to breathe. I jumped from fright but remained absolutely silent as whatever the thing was banged on the door with a deafening blow.
BANG! The door shook and bent slightly.
BANG! Silence for a moment.
BANG! BANG! Again silence. My heart was hammering in my ears and I sat deathly still. I could hear that thing breathing louder. After a few moments I heard it shuffle away. My entire body was shaking as relief washed over me. Whatever the thing was, it had walked away and I could no longer hear it. I turned to look at the monitors. Dare I turn them on and check what it was? After a few seconds of consideration, holding my breath, I turned to the monitors and switched them on. I waited in nervous anticipation as the screens flickered to life showing me that all the corridors between me and the wall were currently empty. I didn’t bother checking the corridor I suspected the shambling thing was in. I didn’t want to see it unless I needed to. I’d had just about all the stress and terror I could take and by this stage I felt weirdly calm. It must be shock. A thin sigh escaped me as I stood. The fear in my blood began to feed a furnace of anger in my heart. I thought about all those who I had lost. I felt my expression turn to granite, “It’s time to kill this thing.”
I opened the door slowly, my fully loaded gun in my good hand. Spare ammo along with the explosive and a shotgun was stashed in my backpack, and the remote detonator was tied to my belt. I held a heavy-duty flashlight in my shaky right hand. I moved cautiously through the dark green corridors. I’d never thought of how creepy this place could be until this moment. Gooseflesh crept up my arms and neck as I continued. All I could hear were my soft footfalls and shallow anxious breaths. I cleared the corridors one by one until I made it to the stairs that would lead me to the thing that looks like a wall. I walked up the stairs slowly, my ears honing in on any sound. That’s when I heard it. I heard the soft sound of crying.
Someone was crying. I stopped dead in my tracks. My entire body shook from the adrenaline surging through me. I took one step. Then another. Slowly, I climbed. Once my head could peek over the top, I froze. Jonesy was squatting on his knees, naked. He was between the wall and me, with his back facing me. The terrifying thing loomed enormous before us. It was now framed intricately with the skeletons of hundreds of people, all twisted and screaming in agony. Writhing, tortured souls fused together. Then came the sound of crying and moaning from the wall. I could hear them all. They were all screaming. Screaming for me to help them. To join them. I felt that pressure squeeze against my skull tighter and tighter. I shook my head in defiance. “No! You bastard! NO! I will not join you! You’re not Jonesy!” All at once the moans and wails stopped. I suddenly found myself at the top of the stairs without knowing when I’d finished climbing them. “But we are Jonesy” came a voice that was not human. It was a voice made from all those it had swallowed up. It was as though something had made a distorted copy of the voices of all those people and then just used them all at once to speak. It didn’t understand the concept of individuality. All of a sudden, the wall rippled and grey tendrils squirmed from the flesh of the wall, curling around Jonesy as they teased his face and slowly pulled him in. As he disappeared there was a horrendous sucking, squelching noise. “We are Jonesy. We are all. We can be all. We will be all. All and all and more than all.” The voice was chanting this over and over. Louder and louder.
A deafening blast came from the wall and a slithering, writhing mass of tangled human limbs emerged. It had four legs and several arms. It looked like the bodies of eight or more people shuffled and glued into an otherworldly horror. Its multiple mouths screamed a high pitch squeal that was more horrifying than the screams of the damned, and its sharp pointed teeth gnashed and chomped. I only had a second to dodge this monster. I leapt to the side and fired multiple shots at the thing’s center of mass. Its horrifying body of fused torsos wriggled and bled black ichor. It screamed with pain and jumped at me, grabbing my leg. It tossed me into the air and I almost lost my gun as I slammed into the floor a few feet away. Before I could catch my breath, it was upon me again. From the ground I fired several shots at it. This made it jump away and scuttle down the stairs. With it momentarily out of sight, I quickly got to my feet and kept my eyes on the stairs.
After a second, I decided to kneel and take off my backpack as fast as I could. I pulled out the bomb and started the timer. I also decided to get the shotgun out and get it loaded. I needed to do this now or never. As the final shell clicked into place I heard a roar coming from the stairs. The thing was back. Before I could react, it leapt at me and knocked me to the ground. The bomb flew from my grasp. It bared down on me, grabbing at my throat ready to tear me apart. My reflexes saved me though and I managed to use my shotgun to hold the thing at bay, but it was too strong. Desperate, I kicked it hard in the chest and it let go. I used this moment to grab the bomb that lay behind me; only 37 seconds to go! Terrified and crazed, sweat pouring down my face, my mind in pieces, I rammed the bomb into the creature’s mouth and kicked it back again as hard as I could. I heard it yelp like a wounded dog and it lost its footing. It fell sideways and in that second, I took my shotgun and fired at it in the chest. The force of the close-range blast sent me flying. At the same time the creature was hurled back into the wall where it was enveloped quickly.
My head was fuzzy. I was dizzy and the wind had been knocked out of me. Was the bomb going to work? I felt something warm and wet drip into my ear and touched the side of my head. My fingertips came away soaked in blood. My head was spinning. With a foggy mind I grabbed my bag, collecting my weapons and flashlight. As I stood up I heard a low rumbling sound. The ground beneath my feet shook and for a moment I was confused. Then I looked up at the wall. Its surface was roiling and boiling like I’d never seen before. It was shaking and growing. I turned to run when suddenly there was a massive blast from inside it, and the entire wall exploded into hundreds of small grey chunks. These chunks rained down all around the hangar, smashing several aircraft. The blast knocked me off my feet and this time I definitely passed out because when I awoke I could see daylight through the tiny cracks in the blast door. Where the wall had once been now stood a small blackened crater. I turned around to inspect the wall pieces and found that they – my eyes grew wide and my mouth opened. They were melting. As I approached a fragment of wall, a horrible twisted hand shot out at me. I yelled and jumped away. It was still alive! I watched in dumbfounded horror as the pieces continued to melt and began to merge, just like that scene from Terminator 2.
It was rebuilding itself. Then I heard a groan. My blood became ice. I turned slowly in terror to find the shambling, wheezing monstrosity behind me. Like the creature I'd shot, this one seemed made from bits and pieces of human limbs knitted together randomly. This one had legs which came out its mouth, its head positioned within its torso where the bellybutton should be, and it wheezed in pain. I almost puked from fright but my legs were already carrying me away. I sprinted down the corridors, ignoring all the pain and fear and exhaustion and anger and frustration I had inside me. Without thinking, I leapt into the first janitor's closet I found and locked the door with a dull clunking sound. After catching my breath, I found this notepad and pencil, and have been writing this report in the sterile glow of my flashlight. Hopefully, I have left some useful information for anyone who may find this.
Now I lie in wait for that thing. Now I lie in wait for that grey ooze. What is that thing? Is it truly indestructible? If it can survive a bomb like that, what hope do we have? It’s no wall at all. It’s a membrane. An interface. Somewhere very different is pressing up against us. It has torn a small hole, and was now prying it open further. I should blow up this whole damn place! I should burn it! But would it matter? Or would it just be buried, to be rediscovered? I think even if I survive this, nothing can help us. So here I wait, hoping to be saved, but even as I write this I can hear that thing walking past the door. With a soft click I turn off my flashlight. I try not to breathe. I can hear the snuffling, it’s right outside! I can smell its ugly breath.
Oh God! I hear the jingling of keys. The door is unlocking! How? How?
Oh God! The doorknob is turning...

I’m trapped. I can hear that thing lumbering through the hallway. My God, what the hell is it? I’m trying my best to keep quiet but I can’t help but whimper. The soft scratching of my pencil on this notepad sounds deafening in the quiet of this tiny closet. I’m almost certainly gonna die in this place. I just hope someone can find this, maybe it will do some good. Or maybe it already doesn’t matter. I’m not sure how long I have until that wheezing thing finds me. Oh God, or that grey stuff might ooze under the door and dissolve me. Oh my God! What it did to Benny, Bill, Jonesy and Donald! To all of them! Even if I don’t survive, the world needs to be warned!
Long story short, I was a cop but I got shot in the head. The doctors said I was lucky, that it went straight through without hitting anything vital. However, I still needed three steel plates to hold my fragmented skull together. Also ended up with permanent tremors in my right hand from brain damage. So it’s no surprise that my cop career didn’t thrive. Just a year later I was a “retired” 45-year-old cop, living on scraps. After a few months, I started to get desperate for work. One evening at my pub, my friend, Graham, mentioned an acquaintance who was looking for employees for some private research institute in the Mojave Desert. “What, are they still blowing A-bombs out there?” I scoffed, eyebrows arched with bemused incredulity. Graham stared down at his beer, “Not sure what the hell they do. But they pay super well, so who cares,” he took a long sip of beer, foam clinging to his lips, “I think it would be a good fit for you”.
Turns out this facility, and it really is known as the “Facility”, was located in the middle of nowhere. When I looked it up online I couldn’t find any information. Later that week I called the number that Graham had scrawled down for me on a beer stained napkin. My right hand was useless to me if I wanted it to do anything that required fine motor function, so when I dialed the number on my phone I had to use my left hand. The phone rang twice before a metallic feminine voice answered and said to hold for an operator. After a few seconds of muted elevator music, I spoke to a soft voiced man who told me my skill set was perfect for their current vacancy: a security management position. He said if I filled out some forms they would pay for me to fly on out for an interview in person.
One month and several NDAs later, I was employed again! By the time I started my new job I realized I had no idea what research went on down here. During the interviews my duties as a security manager had been discussed but any mention of their actual research interests had been carefully avoided, redacted or omitted. The security staff were also told to avoid fraternizing with anyone not from their own department, including security personnel from other sections of the Facility. On my first day I asked others about the nature of the Facility’s research, but no one had any interest. “Just stick to your contract. No point in rocking the boat,” my new boss, Bill, said to me curtly. So since then I’ve not discussed it with anyone else.
If only I had, maybe I would have seen this coming. The section of the Facility which I managed was section B.15. This area, like most of the core Facility, was located several hundred feet below the sun scorched surface of the Mojave Desert and comprised many green painted corridors peppered with tall, wide doors made from dark, stainless steel. The rooms inside were large and sterile. Artefacts were cleaned and studied in these rooms after they were brought from the excavation sites (sites E.1 through E.27). Of course, whether we wanted to know the nature of the research or not, eventually, after patrolling some of the research labs for weeks, it wasn’t difficult to figure out that the scientists were mostly archeologists or paleontologists. I would often find objects of different sizes and shapes lying around in various states of cleanliness. Some looked like ancient amphoras, or large stone bird baths. Others were less identifiable: a chipped statue, a melted lump of some unidentifiable metal or large chunks of a glass-like material. I found this all extremely curious because, as far as I knew, the Mojave Desert didn’t have much in the way of ancient architecture. At least of any ancient civilization that I know.
As the months went by I started to get friendly with the other guards, most of them ex-cops too, and we started playing cards and drinking Irish coffee in the evenings. My two main colleagues consisted of a jovial, short man with orange hair named Jonesy and a much older much grumpier and much balder man, Donald. They were good men and we had a lot of laughs together. My stomach twists when I think about where they are now. Though I grew fonder of my fellow guards, I found myself developing a severe dislike for the white coated researchers. Most of them were pernicious and arrogant. The only scientist my security buddies and me could stand was a scrawny man named Benny. Our favorite thing about Benny was that he never talked about his work.
It was earlier today, at around 1400h, when all the scientists were running from their rooms. They must have received some message a few minutes before and we watched them from the surveillance monitors as they got all excited and leapt up. Their lab coats flapped and flowed around as they jumped to their feet and made for the main exit. Soon after this the large red landline phone near my video surveillance desk began to ring. Expecting the call, I picked up the receiver before the first ring finished, “Hey boss, what’s all the excitement about?” Bill’s voice was uncharacteristically hesitant “The diggers have found a friggin’ huge object out here! The biggest thing they’ve ever dug up, it’s really irregular. They want to bring it to B.15 and I need you to organize the logistics and security”. My brow furrowed, “I guess it’s too big for the main entrance? Maybe we could bring it in via the big doors of the auxiliary hangar?” Bill grunted with agreement, “Yea, we’ll have to improvise a bit but should be manageable. I have no idea what it is… well you’ll see for yourself. I’ll get some of the boys from B.14 to help you out. And just, well…” He paused for a moment, “just be careful.” I grunted, my eyebrow arched from surprise; why was he so afraid? “Um thanks, appreciate it, see you guys soon”.
Donald, Jonesy and I had coffee in the office and called the guards at the hangar doors to arrange clearance. About an hour later we were at the platform near the doors waiting for the cargo to arrive. The massive metal hangar doors had been opened, which was rare. What was more irregular was that nearly every staff member from sections B.11 to B.18 were all gathered together in a silent knot of people. Despite the silence the air sizzled with anticipation, as well as the searing heat. I stood transfixed from curiosity at the massive doorway, waiting in the shade of the hangar as the relentless sun beat down outside. In the distance I saw a black speck grow larger against the bright blue sky. Slowly it took the form of a helicopter which was carrying a large rectangular shaped mass below it.
Within less than a minute the helicopter made its cacophonous approach toward the hangar and gently lowered the object onto an enormous wooden scaffold. I barked orders and signed forms as the guards rushed about, making sure the other personnel stayed a safe distance away. The air was blaring with the sound of the helicopter blades and sand rocketed into my face, forcing me to splutter. “Alright, let’s get this thing processed!” I yelled over the sound of the helicopter as its engines powered down, my colleagues and I wiped dirt from our faces. Bill emerged swiftly from the chopper and shook my hand. We quickly reviewed the paper work he gave me and then he made his way back downstairs to his office in section B.1. He was keen to get away for some reason.
“Alright, it’s officially in my care now. Show’s over. Get the non-essential personnel out of here immediately and secure the object. I want to get Benny up here to analyze it ASAP.” As my colleagues cleared away most of the staff and the excitement died down I was finally able to take a moment to inspect the object. It had been lowered onto the wooden scaffold fitted with wheels just outside the hangar and had been pushed slowly into the center. The few aircraft in this hangar were all currently under repairs and were non-operational, therefore there was plenty of space. As soon as I saw the sheer size of the object, I knew it would be difficult to transport, but not impossible. The object was a wall. Or a large fragment of a wall.
It was about twenty feet long, eight feet thick and ten feet high. At first the wall appeared made from some sort of boring grey stone. However, when I looked closer the wall was… alive. The wall’s surface bubbled slightly. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end as I stepped closer. When I was only a few inches away from it I felt cold. A bead of sweat ran down my cheek and I thought I heard something. It sounded like someone far away calling my name.
I felt a strange pressure around my head. A sudden invasive thought wormed to life: throw yourself into the wall. I shuddered and held myself back despite the sudden strong desire. I heard the faint voice of Benny and crashed back to reality. My eyes snapped open and I found my nose an inch away from the wall. It radiated cold like an open freezer and it smelled like rotting clay. The surface of the wall simmered ever so slightly. It reminded me of the fizz of some grey effervescent medicine. I paled as I took a large step backward, “I.. uh, what is this?” I turned to face Benny who stood with another scientist. He glanced at her briefly before he approached the wall to apply more straps. He was careful to avoid touching the wall with his bare skin. “Honestly, we have no idea”.
I got Donald and Jonesy to help Benny transport the wall down to room 278B via the service elevator. Donald grumbled about how badly the wall smelled and Jonesy had eyes as large as saucers when he saw it up close, “It looks so unreal!” Once downstairs I returned to my office to get some more coffee and file away the paperwork. I tried to put the strangeness of the wall out of my mind, but it had truly unnerved me. I felt so tired, my forehead drenched with cold sweat. I had been working extra shifts lately, but I had never been hit by such exhaustion so rapidly. As I sat at my desk facing the surveillance monitors I was unable to fight the sleep forcing my eyes shut.
I’ve had many hangovers in my life, most of them unpleasant, but when I woke up at my desk I’d never felt quite so singularly awful. My clothes were soaked with sweat and my whole body felt exhausted. My arms felt like molasses as I attempted to move. My forehead throbbed and I felt bruised. I also felt a pressure squeezing my head from all sides. It was quite peculiar. I sat back in my seat and rubbed my eyes.
Then I froze.
A hand was lying motionless on the floor just behind the table in the center of the office. I leapt to my feet and rushed forward. I gasped from horror as I saw Donald lying on the floor, his chest sliced to ribbons. Gallons of crimson red stained his blue uniform and his eyes stared up empty and terrified. Pallid and shaking I went to my office landline to call for backup immediately. As the receiver met my ear my stomach dropped into my feet.
The line was dead.
The sole means of communication within the core Facility is done through landlines. The landlines are monitored at all times and any interruption results in an immediate response from security. We had many protocols and fail safes to ensure communication remained enabled, but the line was dead and there was no sign of any response. In fact, how long had I been asleep? What was happening? I rushed back to the monitors. I hadn’t noticed it before but I couldn’t see anyone. The cameras were all operating normally but not a single person could be seen. The corridors were just as green and bare as most late evenings. I looked at the clock, it was only 1817h. I had slept for about two and a half hours. Where were the janitors? My heart was hammering in my chest and I couldn’t catch my breath. Meanwhile my head was throbbing and my eyes were burning. Suddenly I heard an indistinct whisper. Gooseflesh bloomed all over my back and arms.
I’d heard this voice before.
I’d heard this voice from the wall.
I turned to the monitors and searched for the wall. It had been brought back to the surface; the hangar! It sat upon the bare ground right by the massive doors. However, the doors were all sealed. The wall itself looked different. It was enormous! Almost three times longer and taller and wider. Just then, I realized that the titanium blast doors had been sealed as well. My heart rate doubled as I noticed large dents, scorch marks and scratches all over the doors. Someone had tried to break them down. The hangar floor was covered in blood and ash as well as abandoned weapons. My God, I even saw a rocket-launcher lying blackened and fractured near the doors. What the hell had happened?
I spun my head to look at the security control panel on the wall to my left. My heart, already blaring, felt like it leapt out of my mouth. My eyes grew wide as I realized someone, probably Donald, had activated a quarantine procedure. This meant that the entire Facility would be sealed airtight. The only way to open any doors now was from the outside. My God! Why had he done this? Where was everyone? Did he try to wake me? Did I really sleep through all this? I looked back at Donald, my heart still hammering from seeing his dead eyes stare into mine. I sighed sadly and glanced at the clock on the wall. It was currently 1831h. I returned to the monitors and began to rewind the security footage.
Surveying the screens, I watched my past-self enter the security office at around 1600h. By 1610h I had passed-out on my chair, drool dangling from my mouth. “Ok, so let’s see where the wall was at that time. Should be room 278B.” I thought to myself aloud as I clicked on the button that would display the footage from that room as well as the surrounding corridors. The screen was black as the footage loaded and I was about to hit the play button but hesitated. Did I really want to see this? I closed my eyes and took a few slow breaths. I can’t figure my way out of here if I don’t know what’s going on. I have to know. I hit play.
The camera was located opposite the door giving a full view of the room. At first everything seemed normal. Benny and some other scientists had transported the wall into room 278B. It was 1623h when they were taking the straps off the wall. A loud popping sound was heard and the researchers spun around. The lights in the room dimmed and flickered. Suddenly something long and slimy exploded from the wall, curled around Benny, and pulled him in. He screamed in terror as he vanished, his cries immediately silenced. My jaw dropped open and a small yell escaped me.
Without realizing it, I was instantly on my feet, shaking my head in pure denial. My heart burst. What the hell was that? What the hell? What the hell? My head was full of static. I felt tears in my eyes as I watched guards and researchers rush into the room. The wall shimmered, it’s simmering surface began to boil and bubble and it grew three feet higher. I saw it reshape itself so that intricately carved figures appeared on the wall’s edge. I leant in closer and gasped. One of those figures looked just like Benny, his mouth stretched open wide into a permanent scream. I didn’t want to continue watching, but I had to. The guards and researchers were horrified by what they saw before them. Suddenly, without warning, their body postures relaxed, their eyes grew glassy, and their arms fell slack at their sides. Those within the room moved as if sleepwalking. Some stayed still while others left the room. Brow furrowed from confusion and fear, my eyes swiveled to the footage of the corridor outside. The guards and researchers that had just exited 278B immediately began attacking and grappling those around them. I yelped as a vacant-eyed guard lazily shot another man in the leg. The thrall then dragged the wounded guard into room 278B. The mad guard held the wounded guard’s leg fast as he casually walked into the grey wall, pulling the struggling man in behind him. During this altercation I noticed Donald for the first time, he was hiding behind the corner of the corridor at the far end and was firing his gun at the madmen. He didn’t manage to hit anyone though. He then ran over to help a stray researcher to their feet and then they both ran down the corridor and out of view.
I can still hear the cries of pain and pleas for mercy as those who fell victim to the thralls were each dragged into that horrifying wall. With every person it swallowed, the wall wriggled and grew and grew. More and more ghastly decorations began to bloom on its surface, all of them made from the bones or likenesses of those who had been absorbed. The bigger it got the stronger its psychic influence became until it seemed to reach nearly everyone in the Facility, turning them into thralls. I looked on in horror as one by one, all janitors, researchers, guards, diggers, admin staff, everyone gradually stopped what they were doing, mid conversation, their eyes emptying. The janitors dropped their mops and buckets. Researchers dropped precious materials and equipment without care, letting them smash to pieces. In unison they all slowly, with vacant expressions, moved toward room 278B. Among the horde of thralls, I saw Bill and Jonesy, and so many others I knew by face. A guy who’d held the door for me once, a researcher who always slurped her coffee at lunch. Hundreds of people! What filled me with an unnamable dread was that I knew what was gonna happen. I knew what was coming. I tried to shout at the monitors, “Stop! Wait!” I grabbed the monitors and shook them with frustration.
A terror began to fill my stomach, deep and cold and aching. Suddenly I noticed Donald reappear on the screen. He was trying to hold back the researcher he’d helped earlier, but it was useless. I saw Donald, chest heaving from effort, stare with incredulity as he sat defeated on the ground. Everyone else around him stumbled dreamily toward their doom. But Donald refused to give up. I saw him run from corridor to corridor, trying desperately to stop them. He threw chairs and tables in their way but they simply pushed them aside or jumped over them. I saw him run toward this office. I saw him enter, saw myself slumped on my chair still completely unconscious. I saw Donald try to shake me awake, he slapped me a few times and was yelling in frustration. He gave up with me eventually and ran over to activate the quarantine lockdown. I saw him tear down the hall back toward room 278B, pistol in hand.
My best guess was that he saw what was happening in room 278B and decided he was gonna stop it. However, as soon as he got close to the door a long pale tendril burst through the door directly into Donald’s chest. The tentacle had a hooked end and it slashed at him. I saw blood spurt out of him, saw him stumble and fall from the ground in fright. However, he still managed to get a hold of his gun and fired multiple shots at the tendril. It writhed and flailed. Donald took the opportunity to climb to his feet. He grimaced and clasped his chest as crimson leaked to the floor. He moved back down the corridor, much more slowly than before. Eventually he got back to the office. He locked the door and then collapsed. I cried out in frustration. That whole time I was completely useless!
My mind felt like static again for a few seconds. I couldn’t work out what my next move should be. A thought hit me hard, one I should really have thought of before. Why had Donald and I not been psychically affected by the wall? Everyone had been enslaved, everyone had been forced to walk into that wall. Why not Donald? And me? I knew it must be connected to my horrendous sleepiness. My eyes grew wide with sudden realization. “Shit, the steel plates in my head!” Donald had a single steel plate in his skull because of a rock-climbing accident he had in his 20s. When I got close to the wall, had it sensed my resistance? Had it tried to incapacitate me? If so, it means this thing possesses sentience.
While I pondered this, I noticed some thralls re-strap the wall in room 278B. They transported it to the elevator and back up to the hangar. Once there, the thralls moved the wall off the scaffold onto the floor and began to beat heavily on the large metal doors with bare fists. Some even shot at the doors with their handguns. The ricochets killed a few of them but not one single person seemed to even notice. Some of the guards even used a rocket launcher! I yelled with shock as they fired at deadly close range, lazily blowing themselves up, leaving the doors scorched. After this proved futile, the thralls all grew suddenly rigid. Next, they all formed a line in front of the wall and one shambling step after another, all the remaining employees were - assimilated. Even the dead and wounded were not spared. Those still alive carried the corpses of their fellow thralls into the wall.
It was 1705h when the last employee disappeared forever into the grey horror, and the wall expanded to its current size. Without warning, a large writhing mass of twisted limbs emerged from the wall. I gasped from horror. I couldn’t tell exactly what it was because the lighting in the hangar wasn’t good enough, but it definitely wasn’t human. Its silhouette was about seven feet tall and thin and stretched. It had too many legs and it didn’t seem to have a head. This thing lumbered over to the doors and began to strike them with a strength and ferocity one would only find in a starving polar bear. I could tell that the doors were taking strain, and they began to bend, but even then, they would not yield. After about half an hour of smashing the door, the creature stopped and slowly shambled toward the stairs. My heart froze. It was coming here! Or was it here already?
My eyes swiveled back to the main monitor and I was surprised to see Donald still alive. He was scratched and bleeding badly as he shakily pushed himself from the floor. He then looked up at the ammunitions cupboard and began to search through his keys. I saw him curse. He couldn’t find the key with his trembling, bloodied fingers. In the next instant his eyes bulged and he heaved as if vomiting. His body doubled over and long grey tendrils oozed from his mouth and wriggled furiously. He grabbed his throat and fell forward onto the floor. Frozen in horror I watched as his body squirmed and he wriggled as if his intestines were filled with snakes. I continued to watch absolutely transfixed as three long grey tendrils emerged again from between Donald’s lips. Slowly they wriggled free of his mouth. They were about half a foot long, dull grey and thin like spaghetti.
I watched as they slithered toward my unconscious form on the monitor. I bit my lip and stood up. Slowly my brain put two and two together. Bile rose in my throat. I yelled at myself to wake up and see the worms. Just then my stomach dropped and I could feel an itchiness in my belly. I could feel the wriggling itch of a thousand grey eels in my gut. Or was I imagining it?
My stomach writhed and I was about to puke when I saw myself awake and stretch in my chair. The worms somehow realized I was awake and they moved out of view towards the –before I could watch the screen any longer, I heard a hiss and something slimy and long wrapped itself around my throat so tight I couldn’t breathe. I gasped with surprise and strained my neck to look at the monitor that showed the room in real time. I saw from the camera behind my head that something thin and grey had wrapped itself around my throat. I saw two more of those things coming at me from behind as well. They were about to come wriggling up my chair when I grimaced with anger and grabbed my gun from its holster. The thing around my neck was hissing and making awful clicking and guttural noises. Its small worm head had a mouth that bit and it latched onto my neck to suck my blood. I pulled at the leach and pressed my gun up against it. I pulled the trigger. With an earsplitting bang and a sound like a water balloon popping the leach was reduced to sticky goo. I pulled the remnants of the leach off my neck and spun around just in time to shoot and kill the others. I grinned with a mad-joy and yelled with relief. Immediately, a wave of nausea and exhaustion hit me and I fell back onto my chair. “What the hell was that? What the hell do I do now?” I sat still for a moment and tried not to lose my mind completely. I swear I could hear Woody the woodpecker laughing somewhere in the distance. I needed to keep it together. I took a long deep breath and tried to think of a way out.
Summarizing the details of my predicament, I realized I was trapped alone inside the Facility with an otherworldly force. Also, even if I found a way out, I’d potentially be letting an evil into the world that could destroy all life. At once an old thought returned to me, one I’d often experienced as a cop. “If I need to sacrifice myself to save others, I will do so without complaint.” A wry smile spread over my face. “Once a cop, always a cop.” My smile vanished as a I continued to think. “But my God, if this thing gets out. If it gets into the minds of other people. If it gets larger and larger. Could it swallow the world? The solar system? What other monstrosities would it unleash?” I was talking aloud now; the sound of my voice gave a new reality to my situation that made me shudder. I turned back to the monitor. It seems I was all caught up with what had happened. I stared blankly into the screen while I watched my past-self continue to wake and wince from pain. I switched the monitor off and saw my reflection in the blackness of the screen. I was pale and my eyes were wide and unblinking. “What do I do now?” I turned in my chair to look at Donald’s body. Were all those worms gone? Could some still be hiding? And what should be done with his body? Probably best to have it burned. “Poor Donald, he didn’t deserve this”, I muttered softly as I examined his corpse, making sure there were no unexplained twitches beneath his skin. My eyes moved from his body up to the ammunition’s cupboard just above. “Wait, why was he trying to get into the cupboard earlier? We don’t have much…”, my eyes grew large with realization. “Holy crap, he was trying to get the bomb! Me and Donald were gonna use a left-over bomb from the excavation site to blow some random shit up!”
I sighed sadly and heavily. We never got around to it. I stood up quickly and walked up to the cupboard. I pulled out my keys and quickly found the key I’d need. I opened the cupboard with little effort and found the ten kilos of plastic explosive inside. It had already been set up with a sixty second timer and a remote detonator by a colleague. I sat at the table with the explosive, a vague plan forming in my broken mind. “Maybe if I somehow get this wall-thing to eat this bomb then...”
Before I could formulate my thoughts fully, the lights flickered, and the entire Facility was plunged into darkness unceremoniously. My nerves were burning with fear. What had happened? Had that thing knocked the power out somehow? The next few seconds that past were some of the longest I’d ever experienced. However, dim green light bloomed to life and the reserve power kicked in. Then I heard slow, shuffling footsteps in the corridor just outside the office. I froze once again, my insides turning to mush. My mind raced. Had I remembered to lock the door? My stomach leapt into my feet as I heard the shuffling get louder and louder. I heard hoarse, wheezing breaths, as if the thing struggled to breathe. I jumped from fright but remained absolutely silent as whatever the thing was banged on the door with a deafening blow.
BANG! The door shook and bent slightly.
BANG! Silence for a moment.
BANG! BANG! Again silence. My heart was hammering in my ears and I sat deathly still. I could hear that thing breathing louder. After a few moments I heard it shuffle away. My entire body was shaking as relief washed over me. Whatever the thing was, it had walked away and I could no longer hear it. I turned to look at the monitors. Dare I turn them on and check what it was? After a few seconds of consideration, holding my breath, I turned to the monitors and switched them on. I waited in nervous anticipation as the screens flickered to life showing me that all the corridors between me and the wall were currently empty. I didn’t bother checking the corridor I suspected the shambling thing was in. I didn’t want to see it unless I needed to. I’d had just about all the stress and terror I could take and by this stage I felt weirdly calm. It must be shock. A thin sigh escaped me as I stood. The fear in my blood began to feed a furnace of anger in my heart. I thought about all those who I had lost. I felt my expression turn to granite, “It’s time to kill this thing.”
I opened the door slowly, my fully loaded gun in my good hand. Spare ammo along with the explosive and a shotgun was stashed in my backpack, and the remote detonator was tied to my belt. I held a heavy-duty flashlight in my shaky right hand. I moved cautiously through the dark green corridors. I’d never thought of how creepy this place could be until this moment. Gooseflesh crept up my arms and neck as I continued. All I could hear were my soft footfalls and shallow anxious breaths. I cleared the corridors one by one until I made it to the stairs that would lead me to the thing that looks like a wall. I walked up the stairs slowly, my ears honing in on any sound. That’s when I heard it. I heard the soft sound of crying.
Someone was crying. I stopped dead in my tracks. My entire body shook from the adrenaline surging through me. I took one step. Then another. Slowly, I climbed. Once my head could peek over the top, I froze. Jonesy was squatting on his knees, naked. He was between the wall and me, with his back facing me. The terrifying thing loomed enormous before us. It was now framed intricately with the skeletons of hundreds of people, all twisted and screaming in agony. Writhing, tortured souls fused together. Then came the sound of crying and moaning from the wall. I could hear them all. They were all screaming. Screaming for me to help them. To join them. I felt that pressure squeeze against my skull tighter and tighter. I shook my head in defiance. “No! You bastard! NO! I will not join you! You’re not Jonesy!” All at once the moans and wails stopped. I suddenly found myself at the top of the stairs without knowing when I’d finished climbing them. “But we are Jonesy” came a voice that was not human. It was a voice made from all those it had swallowed up. It was as though something had made a distorted copy of the voices of all those people and then just used them all at once to speak. It didn’t understand the concept of individuality. All of a sudden, the wall rippled and grey tendrils squirmed from the flesh of the wall, curling around Jonesy as they teased his face and slowly pulled him in. As he disappeared there was a horrendous sucking, squelching noise. “We are Jonesy. We are all. We can be all. We will be all. All and all and more than all.” The voice was chanting this over and over. Louder and louder.
A deafening blast came from the wall and a slithering, writhing mass of tangled human limbs emerged. It had four legs and several arms. It looked like the bodies of eight or more people shuffled and glued into an otherworldly horror. Its multiple mouths screamed a high pitch squeal that was more horrifying than the screams of the damned, and its sharp pointed teeth gnashed and chomped. I only had a second to dodge this monster. I leapt to the side and fired multiple shots at the thing’s center of mass. Its horrifying body of fused torsos wriggled and bled black ichor. It screamed with pain and jumped at me, grabbing my leg. It tossed me into the air and I almost lost my gun as I slammed into the floor a few feet away. Before I could catch my breath, it was upon me again. From the ground I fired several shots at it. This made it jump away and scuttle down the stairs. With it momentarily out of sight, I quickly got to my feet and kept my eyes on the stairs.
After a second, I decided to kneel and take off my backpack as fast as I could. I pulled out the bomb and started the timer. I also decided to get the shotgun out and get it loaded. I needed to do this now or never. As the final shell clicked into place I heard a roar coming from the stairs. The thing was back. Before I could react, it leapt at me and knocked me to the ground. The bomb flew from my grasp. It bared down on me, grabbing at my throat ready to tear me apart. My reflexes saved me though and I managed to use my shotgun to hold the thing at bay, but it was too strong. Desperate, I kicked it hard in the chest and it let go. I used this moment to grab the bomb that lay behind me; only 37 seconds to go! Terrified and crazed, sweat pouring down my face, my mind in pieces, I rammed the bomb into the creature’s mouth and kicked it back again as hard as I could. I heard it yelp like a wounded dog and it lost its footing. It fell sideways and in that second, I took my shotgun and fired at it in the chest. The force of the close-range blast sent me flying. At the same time the creature was hurled back into the wall where it was enveloped quickly.
My head was fuzzy. I was dizzy and the wind had been knocked out of me. Was the bomb going to work? I felt something warm and wet drip into my ear and touched the side of my head. My fingertips came away soaked in blood. My head was spinning. With a foggy mind I grabbed my bag, collecting my weapons and flashlight. As I stood up I heard a low rumbling sound. The ground beneath my feet shook and for a moment I was confused. Then I looked up at the wall. Its surface was roiling and boiling like I’d never seen before. It was shaking and growing. I turned to run when suddenly there was a massive blast from inside it, and the entire wall exploded into hundreds of small grey chunks. These chunks rained down all around the hangar, smashing several aircraft. The blast knocked me off my feet and this time I definitely passed out because when I awoke I could see daylight through the tiny cracks in the blast door. Where the wall had once been now stood a small blackened crater. I turned around to inspect the wall pieces and found that they – my eyes grew wide and my mouth opened. They were melting. As I approached a fragment of wall, a horrible twisted hand shot out at me. I yelled and jumped away. It was still alive! I watched in dumbfounded horror as the pieces continued to melt and began to merge, just like that scene from Terminator 2.
It was rebuilding itself. Then I heard a groan. My blood became ice. I turned slowly in terror to find the shambling, wheezing monstrosity behind me. Like the creature I'd shot, this one seemed made from bits and pieces of human limbs knitted together randomly. This one had legs which came out its mouth, its head positioned within its torso where the bellybutton should be, and it wheezed in pain. I almost puked from fright but my legs were already carrying me away. I sprinted down the corridors, ignoring all the pain and fear and exhaustion and anger and frustration I had inside me. Without thinking, I leapt into the first janitor's closet I found and locked the door with a dull clunking sound. After catching my breath, I found this notepad and pencil, and have been writing this report in the sterile glow of my flashlight. Hopefully, I have left some useful information for anyone who may find this.
Now I lie in wait for that thing. Now I lie in wait for that grey ooze. What is that thing? Is it truly indestructible? If it can survive a bomb like that, what hope do we have? It’s no wall at all. It’s a membrane. An interface. Somewhere very different is pressing up against us. It has torn a small hole, and was now prying it open further. I should blow up this whole damn place! I should burn it! But would it matter? Or would it just be buried, to be rediscovered? I think even if I survive this, nothing can help us. So here I wait, hoping to be saved, but even as I write this I can hear that thing walking past the door. With a soft click I turn off my flashlight. I try not to breathe. I can hear the snuffling, it’s right outside! I can smell its ugly breath.
Oh God! I hear the jingling of keys. The door is unlocking! How? How?
Oh God! The doorknob is turning...

I’m trapped. I can hear that thing lumbering through the hallway. My God, what the hell is it? I’m trying my best to keep quiet but I can’t help but whimper. The soft scratching of my pencil on this notepad sounds deafening in the quiet of this tiny closet. I’m almost certainly gonna die in this place. I just hope someone can find this, maybe it will do some good. Or maybe it already doesn’t matter. I’m not sure how long I have until that wheezing thing finds me. Oh God, or that grey stuff might ooze under the door and dissolve me. Oh my God! What it did to Benny, Bill, Jonesy and Donald! To all of them! Even if I don’t survive, the world needs to be warned!
Long story short, I was a cop but I got shot in the head. The doctors said I was lucky, that it went straight through without hitting anything vital. However, I still needed three steel plates to hold my fragmented skull together. Also ended up with permanent tremors in my right hand from brain damage. So it’s no surprise that my cop career didn’t thrive. Just a year later I was a “retired” 45-year-old cop, living on scraps. After a few months, I started to get desperate for work. One evening at my pub, my friend, Graham, mentioned an acquaintance who was looking for employees for some private research institute in the Mojave Desert. “What, are they still blowing A-bombs out there?” I scoffed, eyebrows arched with bemused incredulity. Graham stared down at his beer, “Not sure what the hell they do. But they pay super well, so who cares,” he took a long sip of beer, foam clinging to his lips, “I think it would be a good fit for you”.
Turns out this facility, and it really is known as the “Facility”, was located in the middle of nowhere. When I looked it up online I couldn’t find any information. Later that week I called the number that Graham had scrawled down for me on a beer stained napkin. My right hand was useless to me if I wanted it to do anything that required fine motor function, so when I dialed the number on my phone I had to use my left hand. The phone rang twice before a metallic feminine voice answered and said to hold for an operator. After a few seconds of muted elevator music, I spoke to a soft voiced man who told me my skill set was perfect for their current vacancy: a security management position. He said if I filled out some forms they would pay for me to fly on out for an interview in person.
One month and several NDAs later, I was employed again! By the time I started my new job I realized I had no idea what research went on down here. During the interviews my duties as a security manager had been discussed but any mention of their actual research interests had been carefully avoided, redacted or omitted. The security staff were also told to avoid fraternizing with anyone not from their own department, including security personnel from other sections of the Facility. On my first day I asked others about the nature of the Facility’s research, but no one had any interest. “Just stick to your contract. No point in rocking the boat,” my new boss, Bill, said to me curtly. So since then I’ve not discussed it with anyone else.
If only I had, maybe I would have seen this coming. The section of the Facility which I managed was section B.15. This area, like most of the core Facility, was located several hundred feet below the sun scorched surface of the Mojave Desert and comprised many green painted corridors peppered with tall, wide doors made from dark, stainless steel. The rooms inside were large and sterile. Artefacts were cleaned and studied in these rooms after they were brought from the excavation sites (sites E.1 through E.27). Of course, whether we wanted to know the nature of the research or not, eventually, after patrolling some of the research labs for weeks, it wasn’t difficult to figure out that the scientists were mostly archeologists or paleontologists. I would often find objects of different sizes and shapes lying around in various states of cleanliness. Some looked like ancient amphoras, or large stone bird baths. Others were less identifiable: a chipped statue, a melted lump of some unidentifiable metal or large chunks of a glass-like material. I found this all extremely curious because, as far as I knew, the Mojave Desert didn’t have much in the way of ancient architecture. At least of any ancient civilization that I know.
As the months went by I started to get friendly with the other guards, most of them ex-cops too, and we started playing cards and drinking Irish coffee in the evenings. My two main colleagues consisted of a jovial, short man with orange hair named Jonesy and a much older much grumpier and much balder man, Donald. They were good men and we had a lot of laughs together. My stomach twists when I think about where they are now. Though I grew fonder of my fellow guards, I found myself developing a severe dislike for the white coated researchers. Most of them were pernicious and arrogant. The only scientist my security buddies and me could stand was a scrawny man named Benny. Our favorite thing about Benny was that he never talked about his work.
It was earlier today, at around 1400h, when all the scientists were running from their rooms. They must have received some message a few minutes before and we watched them from the surveillance monitors as they got all excited and leapt up. Their lab coats flapped and flowed around as they jumped to their feet and made for the main exit. Soon after this the large red landline phone near my video surveillance desk began to ring. Expecting the call, I picked up the receiver before the first ring finished, “Hey boss, what’s all the excitement about?” Bill’s voice was uncharacteristically hesitant “The diggers have found a friggin’ huge object out here! The biggest thing they’ve ever dug up, it’s really irregular. They want to bring it to B.15 and I need you to organize the logistics and security”. My brow furrowed, “I guess it’s too big for the main entrance? Maybe we could bring it in via the big doors of the auxiliary hangar?” Bill grunted with agreement, “Yea, we’ll have to improvise a bit but should be manageable. I have no idea what it is… well you’ll see for yourself. I’ll get some of the boys from B.14 to help you out. And just, well…” He paused for a moment, “just be careful.” I grunted, my eyebrow arched from surprise; why was he so afraid? “Um thanks, appreciate it, see you guys soon”.
Donald, Jonesy and I had coffee in the office and called the guards at the hangar doors to arrange clearance. About an hour later we were at the platform near the doors waiting for the cargo to arrive. The massive metal hangar doors had been opened, which was rare. What was more irregular was that nearly every staff member from sections B.11 to B.18 were all gathered together in a silent knot of people. Despite the silence the air sizzled with anticipation, as well as the searing heat. I stood transfixed from curiosity at the massive doorway, waiting in the shade of the hangar as the relentless sun beat down outside. In the distance I saw a black speck grow larger against the bright blue sky. Slowly it took the form of a helicopter which was carrying a large rectangular shaped mass below it.
Within less than a minute the helicopter made its cacophonous approach toward the hangar and gently lowered the object onto an enormous wooden scaffold. I barked orders and signed forms as the guards rushed about, making sure the other personnel stayed a safe distance away. The air was blaring with the sound of the helicopter blades and sand rocketed into my face, forcing me to splutter. “Alright, let’s get this thing processed!” I yelled over the sound of the helicopter as its engines powered down, my colleagues and I wiped dirt from our faces. Bill emerged swiftly from the chopper and shook my hand. We quickly reviewed the paper work he gave me and then he made his way back downstairs to his office in section B.1. He was keen to get away for some reason.
“Alright, it’s officially in my care now. Show’s over. Get the non-essential personnel out of here immediately and secure the object. I want to get Benny up here to analyze it ASAP.” As my colleagues cleared away most of the staff and the excitement died down I was finally able to take a moment to inspect the object. It had been lowered onto the wooden scaffold fitted with wheels just outside the hangar and had been pushed slowly into the center. The few aircraft in this hangar were all currently under repairs and were non-operational, therefore there was plenty of space. As soon as I saw the sheer size of the object, I knew it would be difficult to transport, but not impossible. The object was a wall. Or a large fragment of a wall.
It was about twenty feet long, eight feet thick and ten feet high. At first the wall appeared made from some sort of boring grey stone. However, when I looked closer the wall was… alive. The wall’s surface bubbled slightly. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end as I stepped closer. When I was only a few inches away from it I felt cold. A bead of sweat ran down my cheek and I thought I heard something. It sounded like someone far away calling my name.
I felt a strange pressure around my head. A sudden invasive thought wormed to life: throw yourself into the wall. I shuddered and held myself back despite the sudden strong desire. I heard the faint voice of Benny and crashed back to reality. My eyes snapped open and I found my nose an inch away from the wall. It radiated cold like an open freezer and it smelled like rotting clay. The surface of the wall simmered ever so slightly. It reminded me of the fizz of some grey effervescent medicine. I paled as I took a large step backward, “I.. uh, what is this?” I turned to face Benny who stood with another scientist. He glanced at her briefly before he approached the wall to apply more straps. He was careful to avoid touching the wall with his bare skin. “Honestly, we have no idea”.
I got Donald and Jonesy to help Benny transport the wall down to room 278B via the service elevator. Donald grumbled about how badly the wall smelled and Jonesy had eyes as large as saucers when he saw it up close, “It looks so unreal!” Once downstairs I returned to my office to get some more coffee and file away the paperwork. I tried to put the strangeness of the wall out of my mind, but it had truly unnerved me. I felt so tired, my forehead drenched with cold sweat. I had been working extra shifts lately, but I had never been hit by such exhaustion so rapidly. As I sat at my desk facing the surveillance monitors I was unable to fight the sleep forcing my eyes shut.
I’ve had many hangovers in my life, most of them unpleasant, but when I woke up at my desk I’d never felt quite so singularly awful. My clothes were soaked with sweat and my whole body felt exhausted. My arms felt like molasses as I attempted to move. My forehead throbbed and I felt bruised. I also felt a pressure squeezing my head from all sides. It was quite peculiar. I sat back in my seat and rubbed my eyes.
Then I froze.
A hand was lying motionless on the floor just behind the table in the center of the office. I leapt to my feet and rushed forward. I gasped from horror as I saw Donald lying on the floor, his chest sliced to ribbons. Gallons of crimson red stained his blue uniform and his eyes stared up empty and terrified. Pallid and shaking I went to my office landline to call for backup immediately. As the receiver met my ear my stomach dropped into my feet.
The line was dead.
The sole means of communication within the core Facility is done through landlines. The landlines are monitored at all times and any interruption results in an immediate response from security. We had many protocols and fail safes to ensure communication remained enabled, but the line was dead and there was no sign of any response. In fact, how long had I been asleep? What was happening? I rushed back to the monitors. I hadn’t noticed it before but I couldn’t see anyone. The cameras were all operating normally but not a single person could be seen. The corridors were just as green and bare as most late evenings. I looked at the clock, it was only 1817h. I had slept for about two and a half hours. Where were the janitors? My heart was hammering in my chest and I couldn’t catch my breath. Meanwhile my head was throbbing and my eyes were burning. Suddenly I heard an indistinct whisper. Gooseflesh bloomed all over my back and arms.
I’d heard this voice before.
I’d heard this voice from the wall.
I turned to the monitors and searched for the wall. It had been brought back to the surface; the hangar! It sat upon the bare ground right by the massive doors. However, the doors were all sealed. The wall itself looked different. It was enormous! Almost three times longer and taller and wider. Just then, I realized that the titanium blast doors had been sealed as well. My heart rate doubled as I noticed large dents, scorch marks and scratches all over the doors. Someone had tried to break them down. The hangar floor was covered in blood and ash as well as abandoned weapons. My God, I even saw a rocket-launcher lying blackened and fractured near the doors. What the hell had happened?
I spun my head to look at the security control panel on the wall to my left. My heart, already blaring, felt like it leapt out of my mouth. My eyes grew wide as I realized someone, probably Donald, had activated a quarantine procedure. This meant that the entire Facility would be sealed airtight. The only way to open any doors now was from the outside. My God! Why had he done this? Where was everyone? Did he try to wake me? Did I really sleep through all this? I looked back at Donald, my heart still hammering from seeing his dead eyes stare into mine. I sighed sadly and glanced at the clock on the wall. It was currently 1831h. I returned to the monitors and began to rewind the security footage.
Surveying the screens, I watched my past-self enter the security office at around 1600h. By 1610h I had passed-out on my chair, drool dangling from my mouth. “Ok, so let’s see where the wall was at that time. Should be room 278B.” I thought to myself aloud as I clicked on the button that would display the footage from that room as well as the surrounding corridors. The screen was black as the footage loaded and I was about to hit the play button but hesitated. Did I really want to see this? I closed my eyes and took a few slow breaths. I can’t figure my way out of here if I don’t know what’s going on. I have to know. I hit play.
The camera was located opposite the door giving a full view of the room. At first everything seemed normal. Benny and some other scientists had transported the wall into room 278B. It was 1623h when they were taking the straps off the wall. A loud popping sound was heard and the researchers spun around. The lights in the room dimmed and flickered. Suddenly something long and slimy exploded from the wall, curled around Benny, and pulled him in. He screamed in terror as he vanished, his cries immediately silenced. My jaw dropped open and a small yell escaped me.
Without realizing it, I was instantly on my feet, shaking my head in pure denial. My heart burst. What the hell was that? What the hell? What the hell? My head was full of static. I felt tears in my eyes as I watched guards and researchers rush into the room. The wall shimmered, it’s simmering surface began to boil and bubble and it grew three feet higher. I saw it reshape itself so that intricately carved figures appeared on the wall’s edge. I leant in closer and gasped. One of those figures looked just like Benny, his mouth stretched open wide into a permanent scream. I didn’t want to continue watching, but I had to. The guards and researchers were horrified by what they saw before them. Suddenly, without warning, their body postures relaxed, their eyes grew glassy, and their arms fell slack at their sides. Those within the room moved as if sleepwalking. Some stayed still while others left the room. Brow furrowed from confusion and fear, my eyes swiveled to the footage of the corridor outside. The guards and researchers that had just exited 278B immediately began attacking and grappling those around them. I yelped as a vacant-eyed guard lazily shot another man in the leg. The thrall then dragged the wounded guard into room 278B. The mad guard held the wounded guard’s leg fast as he casually walked into the grey wall, pulling the struggling man in behind him. During this altercation I noticed Donald for the first time, he was hiding behind the corner of the corridor at the far end and was firing his gun at the madmen. He didn’t manage to hit anyone though. He then ran over to help a stray researcher to their feet and then they both ran down the corridor and out of view.
I can still hear the cries of pain and pleas for mercy as those who fell victim to the thralls were each dragged into that horrifying wall. With every person it swallowed, the wall wriggled and grew and grew. More and more ghastly decorations began to bloom on its surface, all of them made from the bones or likenesses of those who had been absorbed. The bigger it got the stronger its psychic influence became until it seemed to reach nearly everyone in the Facility, turning them into thralls. I looked on in horror as one by one, all janitors, researchers, guards, diggers, admin staff, everyone gradually stopped what they were doing, mid conversation, their eyes emptying. The janitors dropped their mops and buckets. Researchers dropped precious materials and equipment without care, letting them smash to pieces. In unison they all slowly, with vacant expressions, moved toward room 278B. Among the horde of thralls, I saw Bill and Jonesy, and so many others I knew by face. A guy who’d held the door for me once, a researcher who always slurped her coffee at lunch. Hundreds of people! What filled me with an unnamable dread was that I knew what was gonna happen. I knew what was coming. I tried to shout at the monitors, “Stop! Wait!” I grabbed the monitors and shook them with frustration.
A terror began to fill my stomach, deep and cold and aching. Suddenly I noticed Donald reappear on the screen. He was trying to hold back the researcher he’d helped earlier, but it was useless. I saw Donald, chest heaving from effort, stare with incredulity as he sat defeated on the ground. Everyone else around him stumbled dreamily toward their doom. But Donald refused to give up. I saw him run from corridor to corridor, trying desperately to stop them. He threw chairs and tables in their way but they simply pushed them aside or jumped over them. I saw him run toward this office. I saw him enter, saw myself slumped on my chair still completely unconscious. I saw Donald try to shake me awake, he slapped me a few times and was yelling in frustration. He gave up with me eventually and ran over to activate the quarantine lockdown. I saw him tear down the hall back toward room 278B, pistol in hand.
My best guess was that he saw what was happening in room 278B and decided he was gonna stop it. However, as soon as he got close to the door a long pale tendril burst through the door directly into Donald’s chest. The tentacle had a hooked end and it slashed at him. I saw blood spurt out of him, saw him stumble and fall from the ground in fright. However, he still managed to get a hold of his gun and fired multiple shots at the tendril. It writhed and flailed. Donald took the opportunity to climb to his feet. He grimaced and clasped his chest as crimson leaked to the floor. He moved back down the corridor, much more slowly than before. Eventually he got back to the office. He locked the door and then collapsed. I cried out in frustration. That whole time I was completely useless!
My mind felt like static again for a few seconds. I couldn’t work out what my next move should be. A thought hit me hard, one I should really have thought of before. Why had Donald and I not been psychically affected by the wall? Everyone had been enslaved, everyone had been forced to walk into that wall. Why not Donald? And me? I knew it must be connected to my horrendous sleepiness. My eyes grew wide with sudden realization. “Shit, the steel plates in my head!” Donald had a single steel plate in his skull because of a rock-climbing accident he had in his 20s. When I got close to the wall, had it sensed my resistance? Had it tried to incapacitate me? If so, it means this thing possesses sentience.
While I pondered this, I noticed some thralls re-strap the wall in room 278B. They transported it to the elevator and back up to the hangar. Once there, the thralls moved the wall off the scaffold onto the floor and began to beat heavily on the large metal doors with bare fists. Some even shot at the doors with their handguns. The ricochets killed a few of them but not one single person seemed to even notice. Some of the guards even used a rocket launcher! I yelled with shock as they fired at deadly close range, lazily blowing themselves up, leaving the doors scorched. After this proved futile, the thralls all grew suddenly rigid. Next, they all formed a line in front of the wall and one shambling step after another, all the remaining employees were - assimilated. Even the dead and wounded were not spared. Those still alive carried the corpses of their fellow thralls into the wall.
It was 1705h when the last employee disappeared forever into the grey horror, and the wall expanded to its current size. Without warning, a large writhing mass of twisted limbs emerged from the wall. I gasped from horror. I couldn’t tell exactly what it was because the lighting in the hangar wasn’t good enough, but it definitely wasn’t human. Its silhouette was about seven feet tall and thin and stretched. It had too many legs and it didn’t seem to have a head. This thing lumbered over to the doors and began to strike them with a strength and ferocity one would only find in a starving polar bear. I could tell that the doors were taking strain, and they began to bend, but even then, they would not yield. After about half an hour of smashing the door, the creature stopped and slowly shambled toward the stairs. My heart froze. It was coming here! Or was it here already?
My eyes swiveled back to the main monitor and I was surprised to see Donald still alive. He was scratched and bleeding badly as he shakily pushed himself from the floor. He then looked up at the ammunitions cupboard and began to search through his keys. I saw him curse. He couldn’t find the key with his trembling, bloodied fingers. In the next instant his eyes bulged and he heaved as if vomiting. His body doubled over and long grey tendrils oozed from his mouth and wriggled furiously. He grabbed his throat and fell forward onto the floor. Frozen in horror I watched as his body squirmed and he wriggled as if his intestines were filled with snakes. I continued to watch absolutely transfixed as three long grey tendrils emerged again from between Donald’s lips. Slowly they wriggled free of his mouth. They were about half a foot long, dull grey and thin like spaghetti.
I watched as they slithered toward my unconscious form on the monitor. I bit my lip and stood up. Slowly my brain put two and two together. Bile rose in my throat. I yelled at myself to wake up and see the worms. Just then my stomach dropped and I could feel an itchiness in my belly. I could feel the wriggling itch of a thousand grey eels in my gut. Or was I imagining it?
My stomach writhed and I was about to puke when I saw myself awake and stretch in my chair. The worms somehow realized I was awake and they moved out of view towards the –before I could watch the screen any longer, I heard a hiss and something slimy and long wrapped itself around my throat so tight I couldn’t breathe. I gasped with surprise and strained my neck to look at the monitor that showed the room in real time. I saw from the camera behind my head that something thin and grey had wrapped itself around my throat. I saw two more of those things coming at me from behind as well. They were about to come wriggling up my chair when I grimaced with anger and grabbed my gun from its holster. The thing around my neck was hissing and making awful clicking and guttural noises. Its small worm head had a mouth that bit and it latched onto my neck to suck my blood. I pulled at the leach and pressed my gun up against it. I pulled the trigger. With an earsplitting bang and a sound like a water balloon popping the leach was reduced to sticky goo. I pulled the remnants of the leach off my neck and spun around just in time to shoot and kill the others. I grinned with a mad-joy and yelled with relief. Immediately, a wave of nausea and exhaustion hit me and I fell back onto my chair. “What the hell was that? What the hell do I do now?” I sat still for a moment and tried not to lose my mind completely. I swear I could hear Woody the woodpecker laughing somewhere in the distance. I needed to keep it together. I took a long deep breath and tried to think of a way out.
Summarizing the details of my predicament, I realized I was trapped alone inside the Facility with an otherworldly force. Also, even if I found a way out, I’d potentially be letting an evil into the world that could destroy all life. At once an old thought returned to me, one I’d often experienced as a cop. “If I need to sacrifice myself to save others, I will do so without complaint.” A wry smile spread over my face. “Once a cop, always a cop.” My smile vanished as a I continued to think. “But my God, if this thing gets out. If it gets into the minds of other people. If it gets larger and larger. Could it swallow the world? The solar system? What other monstrosities would it unleash?” I was talking aloud now; the sound of my voice gave a new reality to my situation that made me shudder. I turned back to the monitor. It seems I was all caught up with what had happened. I stared blankly into the screen while I watched my past-self continue to wake and wince from pain. I switched the monitor off and saw my reflection in the blackness of the screen. I was pale and my eyes were wide and unblinking. “What do I do now?” I turned in my chair to look at Donald’s body. Were all those worms gone? Could some still be hiding? And what should be done with his body? Probably best to have it burned. “Poor Donald, he didn’t deserve this”, I muttered softly as I examined his corpse, making sure there were no unexplained twitches beneath his skin. My eyes moved from his body up to the ammunition’s cupboard just above. “Wait, why was he trying to get into the cupboard earlier? We don’t have much…”, my eyes grew large with realization. “Holy crap, he was trying to get the bomb! Me and Donald were gonna use a left-over bomb from the excavation site to blow some random shit up!”
I sighed sadly and heavily. We never got around to it. I stood up quickly and walked up to the cupboard. I pulled out my keys and quickly found the key I’d need. I opened the cupboard with little effort and found the ten kilos of plastic explosive inside. It had already been set up with a sixty second timer and a remote detonator by a colleague. I sat at the table with the explosive, a vague plan forming in my broken mind. “Maybe if I somehow get this wall-thing to eat this bomb then...”
Before I could formulate my thoughts fully, the lights flickered, and the entire Facility was plunged into darkness unceremoniously. My nerves were burning with fear. What had happened? Had that thing knocked the power out somehow? The next few seconds that past were some of the longest I’d ever experienced. However, dim green light bloomed to life and the reserve power kicked in. Then I heard slow, shuffling footsteps in the corridor just outside the office. I froze once again, my insides turning to mush. My mind raced. Had I remembered to lock the door? My stomach leapt into my feet as I heard the shuffling get louder and louder. I heard hoarse, wheezing breaths, as if the thing struggled to breathe. I jumped from fright but remained absolutely silent as whatever the thing was banged on the door with a deafening blow.
BANG! The door shook and bent slightly.
BANG! Silence for a moment.
BANG! BANG! Again silence. My heart was hammering in my ears and I sat deathly still. I could hear that thing breathing louder. After a few moments I heard it shuffle away. My entire body was shaking as relief washed over me. Whatever the thing was, it had walked away and I could no longer hear it. I turned to look at the monitors. Dare I turn them on and check what it was? After a few seconds of consideration, holding my breath, I turned to the monitors and switched them on. I waited in nervous anticipation as the screens flickered to life showing me that all the corridors between me and the wall were currently empty. I didn’t bother checking the corridor I suspected the shambling thing was in. I didn’t want to see it unless I needed to. I’d had just about all the stress and terror I could take and by this stage I felt weirdly calm. It must be shock. A thin sigh escaped me as I stood. The fear in my blood began to feed a furnace of anger in my heart. I thought about all those who I had lost. I felt my expression turn to granite, “It’s time to kill this thing.”
I opened the door slowly, my fully loaded gun in my good hand. Spare ammo along with the explosive and a shotgun was stashed in my backpack, and the remote detonator was tied to my belt. I held a heavy-duty flashlight in my shaky right hand. I moved cautiously through the dark green corridors. I’d never thought of how creepy this place could be until this moment. Gooseflesh crept up my arms and neck as I continued. All I could hear were my soft footfalls and shallow anxious breaths. I cleared the corridors one by one until I made it to the stairs that would lead me to the thing that looks like a wall. I walked up the stairs slowly, my ears honing in on any sound. That’s when I heard it. I heard the soft sound of crying.
Someone was crying. I stopped dead in my tracks. My entire body shook from the adrenaline surging through me. I took one step. Then another. Slowly, I climbed. Once my head could peek over the top, I froze. Jonesy was squatting on his knees, naked. He was between the wall and me, with his back facing me. The terrifying thing loomed enormous before us. It was now framed intricately with the skeletons of hundreds of people, all twisted and screaming in agony. Writhing, tortured souls fused together. Then came the sound of crying and moaning from the wall. I could hear them all. They were all screaming. Screaming for me to help them. To join them. I felt that pressure squeeze against my skull tighter and tighter. I shook my head in defiance. “No! You bastard! NO! I will not join you! You’re not Jonesy!” All at once the moans and wails stopped. I suddenly found myself at the top of the stairs without knowing when I’d finished climbing them. “But we are Jonesy” came a voice that was not human. It was a voice made from all those it had swallowed up. It was as though something had made a distorted copy of the voices of all those people and then just used them all at once to speak. It didn’t understand the concept of individuality. All of a sudden, the wall rippled and grey tendrils squirmed from the flesh of the wall, curling around Jonesy as they teased his face and slowly pulled him in. As he disappeared there was a horrendous sucking, squelching noise. “We are Jonesy. We are all. We can be all. We will be all. All and all and more than all.” The voice was chanting this over and over. Louder and louder.
A deafening blast came from the wall and a slithering, writhing mass of tangled human limbs emerged. It had four legs and several arms. It looked like the bodies of eight or more people shuffled and glued into an otherworldly horror. Its multiple mouths screamed a high pitch squeal that was more horrifying than the screams of the damned, and its sharp pointed teeth gnashed and chomped. I only had a second to dodge this monster. I leapt to the side and fired multiple shots at the thing’s center of mass. Its horrifying body of fused torsos wriggled and bled black ichor. It screamed with pain and jumped at me, grabbing my leg. It tossed me into the air and I almost lost my gun as I slammed into the floor a few feet away. Before I could catch my breath, it was upon me again. From the ground I fired several shots at it. This made it jump away and scuttle down the stairs. With it momentarily out of sight, I quickly got to my feet and kept my eyes on the stairs.
After a second, I decided to kneel and take off my backpack as fast as I could. I pulled out the bomb and started the timer. I also decided to get the shotgun out and get it loaded. I needed to do this now or never. As the final shell clicked into place I heard a roar coming from the stairs. The thing was back. Before I could react, it leapt at me and knocked me to the ground. The bomb flew from my grasp. It bared down on me, grabbing at my throat ready to tear me apart. My reflexes saved me though and I managed to use my shotgun to hold the thing at bay, but it was too strong. Desperate, I kicked it hard in the chest and it let go. I used this moment to grab the bomb that lay behind me; only 37 seconds to go! Terrified and crazed, sweat pouring down my face, my mind in pieces, I rammed the bomb into the creature’s mouth and kicked it back again as hard as I could. I heard it yelp like a wounded dog and it lost its footing. It fell sideways and in that second, I took my shotgun and fired at it in the chest. The force of the close-range blast sent me flying. At the same time the creature was hurled back into the wall where it was enveloped quickly.
My head was fuzzy. I was dizzy and the wind had been knocked out of me. Was the bomb going to work? I felt something warm and wet drip into my ear and touched the side of my head. My fingertips came away soaked in blood. My head was spinning. With a foggy mind I grabbed my bag, collecting my weapons and flashlight. As I stood up I heard a low rumbling sound. The ground beneath my feet shook and for a moment I was confused. Then I looked up at the wall. Its surface was roiling and boiling like I’d never seen before. It was shaking and growing. I turned to run when suddenly there was a massive blast from inside it, and the entire wall exploded into hundreds of small grey chunks. These chunks rained down all around the hangar, smashing several aircraft. The blast knocked me off my feet and this time I definitely passed out because when I awoke I could see daylight through the tiny cracks in the blast door. Where the wall had once been now stood a small blackened crater. I turned around to inspect the wall pieces and found that they – my eyes grew wide and my mouth opened. They were melting. As I approached a fragment of wall, a horrible twisted hand shot out at me. I yelled and jumped away. It was still alive! I watched in dumbfounded horror as the pieces continued to melt and began to merge, just like that scene from Terminator 2.
It was rebuilding itself. Then I heard a groan. My blood became ice. I turned slowly in terror to find the shambling, wheezing monstrosity behind me. Like the creature I'd shot, this one seemed made from bits and pieces of human limbs knitted together randomly. This one had legs which came out its mouth, its head positioned within its torso where the bellybutton should be, and it wheezed in pain. I almost puked from fright but my legs were already carrying me away. I sprinted down the corridors, ignoring all the pain and fear and exhaustion and anger and frustration I had inside me. Without thinking, I leapt into the first janitor's closet I found and locked the door with a dull clunking sound. After catching my breath, I found this notepad and pencil, and have been writing this report in the sterile glow of my flashlight. Hopefully, I have left some useful information for anyone who may find this.
Now I lie in wait for that thing. Now I lie in wait for that grey ooze. What is that thing? Is it truly indestructible? If it can survive a bomb like that, what hope do we have? It’s no wall at all. It’s a membrane. An interface. Somewhere very different is pressing up against us. It has torn a small hole, and was now prying it open further. I should blow up this whole damn place! I should burn it! But would it matter? Or would it just be buried, to be rediscovered? I think even if I survive this, nothing can help us. So here I wait, hoping to be saved, but even as I write this I can hear that thing walking past the door. With a soft click I turn off my flashlight. I try not to breathe. I can hear the snuffling, it’s right outside! I can smell its ugly breath.
Oh God! I hear the jingling of keys. The door is unlocking! How? How?
Oh God! The doorknob is turning...

Substack
February, 1991
Kuwait
Private First Class William Sharpe hit the ground running.
As one of twenty-two soldiers deployed in the blistering desert, charging toward a rocky expanse teeming with threats, he should have been grumbling. The men around him poured with sweat as their boots sank into the shifting sand, flies swarming over their gritty skin. They clenched their jaws, refraining from swatting at the pests while keeping their trigger fingers ready. Even their Lieutenant, a seasoned warrior with tours in the toughest theaters of war, sounded irritated as he urged them forward into the harsh landscape.
But not PFC Sharpe. Only three months into serving his country, he had waited his entire life for this moment. He’d been a Young Marine for the three years leading up to high school graduation, at which time he aged out with an honorable discharge, holding at the time the rank of Sergeant Major. It was the highest honor attainable in the Young Marines, and it allowed him to enlist in the military with the rank of Private First Class, skipping over Private entirely.
He made his mother proud the day he left for service, and continued to do so with every step he took into that desert. He could still picture his mother standing in the front door of their home, a brick house at the top of a stony path, watching him as he headed to the bus that would take him to basic training. He must have mentioned that image a hundred times back at camp. Even Lieutenant Brett told him to shut up about it, though he could tell the image appealed to the man’s longing for home.
As they advanced across the sand, the Lieutenant stopped them every few feet to check for signs of enemy. Sharpe was on edge, yet he knew he was exactly where he was supposed to be: an M16A in his hands, a target in mind, and his brothers at his sides. The howling wind helped to cover up the sound of his own heartbeat pounding in his neck.
At the Lieutenant’s order they came to a stop at a the foot of rocky outcropping. They remained on high alert while Sergeant Fern approached Lieutenant Brett to discuss their next move. The rest of the men kept look-out, eyes peeled and heads on a swivel.
“Looks like it’s almost that time,” Private LaPointe whispered, patting his supply bag. LaPointe had a thin mustache that made him look like the villain in some old cartoon. Sharpe checked that his own bag was still at his side. Inside was the same blister pack of pills every Marine in the platoon had been issued for the mission. Armatol, the experimental antidote to chemical agents they might come across in the hot zone. Armatol was proof to Sharpe that the U.S. military cared about the safety of their men, that they wanted them to succeed and get back to their wives. Or in his case, girlfriend.
“It better at least give us a decent high,” Lance Corporal Mack chimed in. How he had made rank Sharpe didn’t understand. He was usually too concerned with digging up a good time to pay much attention to the mission.
LaPointe scoffed. “Shit, I just hope it doesn’t kill us.”
“Why would it kill us?” Sharpe asked. He was becoming annoyed with the borderline treasonous comments.
“I don’t know how this stuff works, I just know I don’t trust doctors. If there’s really anthrax out there, no needle’s gonna save us.”
“You took the tetanus shot, right? Yellow Fever? It’s the same thing.”
Private Jackson, a skinny black Marine, leaned in. “Relax, boys. Have a little trust in your fellow man.”
LaPointe nodded. “So long as they’re not Kuwaiti, right?”
Jackson shook his head with the same calm, confident smile he always wore. “Open your heart, LaPointe. It’s warm out here.”
Sharpe noticed Fern and Brett had finished talking. “Quiet, all of you,” he hissed. Sergeant Fern motioned for everyone to pair up and move onto the outcropping. They all fell into position like clockwork. Sharpe found himself teamed with LaPointe, which was fine by him. LaPointe was a bit of a smart-ass, sure, but he was a damn good Marine, and Sharpe would be honored to watch his back.
Eventually, they reached a clearing. Ahead of them was a long stretch of solid ground. The Lieutenant dropped popped his dose of Armatol, and everyone followed suit. First Sharpe kept watch while LaPointe took his arm then LaPointe watched as Sharpe did the same.
The large pills barely slid down his dry throat. A few of the men complained, but Sharpe didn’t mind. He’d seen the pictures of men dying from anthrax. The effects it had on men and women who came into contact with the chemical was brutal, even for warfare.
The Sergeant signaled them forward. They crossed the open ground with buzzing veins, ready to seek out their target: a stronghold supporting enemy forces. Sharpe was eager to prove himself to his Lieutenant. He pounded the ground hard to keep pace, falling in just behind the man so he could show him how he deserved to be Lance Corporal as much as Mack- if not more-so.
Something seized in Sharpe’s chest. It was a sudden jolt of pain, like someone had reached through his ribcage, grabbed a hold of his heart and squeezed it with every bit of strength they had.
Was this a heart attack? He was too young for that, too healthy. It had to be the Armatol. Something was wrong with it. A tainted batch, maybe. He came to a stop as a feeling like bees swarming inside his skull overtook his thoughts. It was so sudden, so intense that he fell to his knees and clawed at his head.
His brain was on fire. If he could peel the skin from his face to let the pain out, he would do it without a second thought. Beyond the roar inside his head, he could hear muted screams all around him; the anguished cries of the other Marines as they shared his pain.
He crawled inside himself, hiding in the corners of his mind. He pictured himself in Suzie’s bed, the two of them naked in the sunlight that filtered through her white lace curtains. They lay with their arms tangled, sharing a pillow, their faces almost touching in the afternoon’s warmth.
“It has to be a small church,” she whispered. “A white one.”
“Anything you want,” he promised, and her face softened. When she looked at him like that, she was just like an angel.
“But don’t worry about the ring. It doesn’t have to be anything fancy. It doesn’t have to be anything, as long as it’s you and me.”
He smiled. “Suzie Whitman, I will buy you the nicest ring I can find, with the biggest diamond that anyone’s ever seen.” She laughed, and he felt it in his chest. “Just as soon as I get back,” he added, then watched her face change to worry. “Hey. I am coming back.”
“Of course you are. I don’t doubt it for a second.”
“Then what’s the matter?”
She bit her lip. “I was watching it on TV last night. I’m just scared you’ll…”
“Get hurt? Me? With you waiting for me back home, I’ll be the strongest guy out there.” He jumped out of bed and posed like a bodybuilder, naked as the day he was born. He flexed his muscles. “The Kuwaitis won’t know what him ‘em.” She laughed again and pulled him back into bed. He kissed her on her lips. “Don’t worry about me,” he said softer. “With you on my mind, I’ll be invincible.”
Sharpe opened his eyes. He was still on his knees, but the pain was gone. The swarm inside his skull had receded to a whisper. More than that, he felt strong. Power ran in his veins like electricity through a live wire, and he felt like he could take on anything. Anyone. His skin picked up tiny vibrations in the air. He smelled oil and gunpowder, sand, details he’d never been aware of before.
He was a new man. A better man.
There were others around him, men with faces he couldn’t quite recollect. Armed strangers. Ten feet to his right, he spotted a man with a thin mustache with a rifle at his feet.
He looked like a threat to Sharpe. A villain.
Sharpe stumbled to his feet. The other men were focused on other things. Some wandered off, others stared down at their hands. He didn’t recognize any of them, or trust them.
Sharpe looked again at the man with the thin mustache. The man still hadn’t noticed him, and yet somehow Sharpe knew in his heart that the man was his enemy.
“No,” Sharpe mumbled, shaking his head like he’d gotten water in his ear. Meanwhile, the man had picked up his rifle off the ground and was studying it.
It was almost too late. He had to die.
“No!” Sharpe shouted this time, loud enough that the man with the mustache spun in his direction. A look of pure hatred flashed across his reddened face. Sharpe resisted the strong urge to run at him and tear him apart, but he doubted the man would do the same. Adrenaline pumped through him, forcing him to choose, to act, to run, to fight.
To kill.
Before he could act on it, a large man tackled the mustached man to the ground. With hands like bear paws he held the man down and squeezed his throat shut, cutting off his air.
As Sharpe watched, the mustached man thrashed on the ground, suffocating under the crush of the bigger man’s grip. He clawed at the face of his attacker, who made no attempt to protect himself. Nails found flesh and tore it open, but still the large man squeezed, even as his face shredded and blood erupted.
With one last attempt to push the large man off, the mustached man’s arms went limp and collapsed at his sides. The large man stared down at the body, blood pouring down his face from his wounds. It showered the corpse beneath him and mixed with the dirt, turning it a deep red.
Then he turned to look at Sharpe.
“Fucking try it,” Sharpe growled. He didn’t even recognize his own voice.
Gunfire broke out, echoing across the area. A bullet whistled past Sharpe’s ear and struck the large man in the side of his head. His eyes glazed over as he fell backward over the body of the man he’d just killed.
Sharpe was angry. That was twice his kill had been stolen from him.
He looked out across the rocky field. Flashes of gunfire were coming from the distance. He didn’t care who it was or why they were shooting at him, only that they had to die.
His boots pounded the ground as he ran toward the gunfire. Other men were running next to him, some of them attacking each other as they went, others too focused on the enemy in the distance to notice anything else. Not one of them ducked or tried to avoid the gunfire. They feared no death and thought of nothing but the kill. Explosions began thundering around them, sending rocks and sand high into the sky, and all it did was make them run faster, breathe deeper, growl louder.
Something landed on the ground three feet to Sharpe’s left. It only registered in his racing mind for a moment before the detonation hit.
A flash of light and a sound louder than anything in memory enveloped him. Then the world went silent. He was only distantly aware of the ground and the sky trading places again and again before he felt the ground hit him like a runaway truck.
For a while- how long he didn’t know- everything was a blur, a watery smudge wrapped in grave silence, but then the blur began to be replaced by images of fire and teeth. The hazy sky drifted past his vision, the ground pulling along his back. He found himself being dragged through the sand and out of a crater by an unknown man.
As he looked around, slowly regaining his senses, he saw a bloody arm go past him, lying in the mud with a sharp bone sticking out the bloodied end. The pointer finger twitched at random, like it was beckoning him forward. He held up his right hand and wiggled his fingers in front of his face. All there. Then he tried the same with the left. Nothing happened.
Sharpe looked down at his left side. Shredded cloth and meat hung from the shoulder, but otherwise it was empty.
The arm was his. He reached out and grabbed it, finding it was still warm. Whoever was dragging him out of the hole must have noticed him moving. They let go and turned to face him. The face was familiar but without a name, like all the other faces he’d been seeing. The man wore a look that said he wasn’t trying to save Sharpe, but drag him out of the hole and finish killing him himself.
Sharpe wasted no time. He jumped up, nearly falling over from the dizziness that wracked his skull. Still gripping his dead arm, in one, swift motion he screamed, lunged forward and drove the bone-end into the man’s stomach.
Jagged bone pierced the man’s gut. Blood bubbled up at the corners of his mouth as a pained whimper escaped his throat. Sharpe drove the bone deeper until the life faded from the man’s eyes. Then he let go, leaving his arm and the dead man to fall as one.
He had never felt this alive in his life. Adrenaline and endorphins flooded his body. They were like fire ants crawling up and down his legs, urging them to move, run, jump, go forward and never, ever stop. Even missing an arm, he felt somehow complete. Gunshots snapped him back to reality. He spun to face them, ready to kill and kill again.
A sharp pain pierced his chest. It was even worse than the one he’d felt minutes before, like an electric shock through the heart. A man stood in his way, a thin black man with the eyes of a monster, smiling at him. Sharpe looked down.
The handle of a knife stuck out of his chest at a sharp angle. It looked like a flag that had been planted on newly discovered land. The thin black man reached out and grabbed the handle of the knife with one, bloody hand.
“Open your heart,” the man whispered through a bloody grin. He pulled the knife free in one, long motion, and a sucking sound escaped Sharpe’s chest as his legs gave out. He fell to the ground a broken doll.
With the side of his face pressed into the sand, Sharpe looked at the open ground he’d nearly crossed. On the hill above he saw the silhouette of a monster cloaked in blood. It looked like a man he’d known once, a man he would have followed into Hell itself, and just maybe did. As he watched, the thin black man licked Sharpe’s blood off the knife, then dropped it as if he no longer needed it before turning and continuing on.
Sharpe’s vision swam. A pool of words washed over his mind, perhaps something he’d heard once, as the field went dark around him and the screams of dying men fell away into nothing.
Have a little trust in your fellow man.
Note: The main story is free to read for everyone, however paid subscribers will have access to many longer episodes that include extra scenes, characters, and sub-plots. Consider subscribing to enjoy the expanded story, as well as to support the author.

Hey now, I never said that there was only one more upload before the reveal, just one more chapter. Full disclosure, though, there will be two more parts at least, but only because so much is going to happen in such a short span of time that's necessary. Again, thanks to u/SpacePaladin15 for creating this universe and to u/Acceptable_Egg5560 who's been a fantastic person to work and write with!
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Memory Transcription Subject: Vekna, Determined Investigative Journalist. Date [Standardized Human Time]: October 31st, 2136
Thank the Herd there are so many people around right now.
I never thought I’d ever think something like that, but even I can’t deny that the cover of others makes slipping by undetected far easier. Our approach was going well until, upon approaching the temple, we had found a security checkpoint blocking our path. Not wanting to risk detection, Sharnet had dragged me upstream through a small herd of people exiting, much to my internal displeasure. I had needed to keep myself stiff as people of all manners passed by us, their thunderous footsteps flooding my ears and their careless tails scraping along my body. Had Sharnet not been holding my paw, I’d have likely collapsed on the spot.
As if I need another reminder of my true nature.
Once we had gotten through, we had set our sights on the temple ahead of us. Sharnet postulated that Malcos would want to hide his operations from the normal goings on of the temple, and I had been inclined to agree. To start our search, we made our way around the three massive pyramids surrounding the main tower. Unfortunately, we had found nothing there except for loose rock and stone, so we had decided to redouble our efforts on the centerpiece of the temple: the Spire of Solgalick.
“We should check around the base for any hidden or guarded basements,” Sharnet whispers to me as we make our way up the stairs towards the Spire. Seeing it from a bird’s eye view doesn’t do the sheer scale of the building justice. If I didn’t know better, I’d say the Stonebuilder himself constructed this place. “I haven’t seen anything of the like on the steps, which means our in must be inside the spire itself.”
“That could be dangerous,” I caution, grunting as I adjust my travel case on my back. I hadn’t wanted to wear them, but Sharnet had insisted that they’d help us blend in better with the other travelers making their cyclical migration to the holy site. By the number of people I’ve witnessed doing the same, I can safely say she had been right. “If we’re spotted before we can pop the cans, we’ll be taken away for sure!”
“That’s why we won’t be spotted,” Sharnet says as she starts drifting to the right. I follow suit upon seeing a Venlil guard looking over the crowd to the left, a bored expression on their features. “With all these people around, we’re essentially invisible to anyone not truly looking for us. All we need to do is get to a point where we can lob the cans into the crowd and cause an evacuation. After that, everything should go to plan. Don’t tell me you’re having second thoughts about a plan you made now,” Sharnet ribs, giving a low whistle shortly thereafter.
“No no, I still think it will work,” I say to try and assuage both Sharnet’s concerns…and my own. “It’s just…what if something goes wrong? If the guards don’t disperse like we want? If Malcos doesn’t come out like we need him to? What if-” I was going to continue listing things that could go wrong, but a familiar shade of brown catches my eye amidst the sea of gray and tan. “...Hold that thought, actually. We might not need the distraction to lure Malcos out after all.”
Before Sharnet can ask what I mean, I begin to pull her through the sparse herd, walking perpendicular in pursuit of that shade of brown. As I finally get a clear line of sight on them, I can confirm that they’re the same Yotul that had left Vane’s manor earlier in the claw. I watch them make their way up the stairs just a bit behind us, and sign to them with my tail so Sharnet can see too. She scans the area for a short moment before her ears shoot up, telling me that she recognizes the Yotul as well.
“There,” I say as quietly as I can while still being heard over the noise of the herd around us. “He was with Vane before. If we follow him, he’ll lead us right to the drugs, and more importantly, Malcos,” I say as I track the brown Yotul through the crowd, zeroing in on his position.
Sharnet’s ears flick forward in approval. “He doesn’t know what we look like, either! We don’t even have to worry about getting too close! We should still keep an eye out for any potential guards or Exterminators. Don't want to tip them off.”
I signal my understanding, and we start to slowly move our way through the crowd closer to the Yotul. It’s a laborious process, sticking just far enough away to avoid drawing suspicion, but we manage alright enough. We only briefly lose sight of him as he crosses the threshold of the stairs, but we quickly regain line of sight once we catch up. He dodges around a massive stone pillar, and to be safe, Sharnet and I cross the other side. However, our target isn’t the only thing that catches our eyes once we’re in the open air of the spire’s ground floor atrium.
There it is. The Statue of Solgalick.
It’s honestly a wonder, a statue standing over two stories tall still supported by its legs and tail upon the ground. Externally, it doesn’t beget much consideration, but the internal forces acting upon it must be immense. The statue looks to be fashioned of a white marble that gleams as brilliantly as the sun shining behind it, the symbol of which shines silver in its chest. Ten arms are raised at various angles at its sides, grasping all the tools of Solgalick’s domain, at least from what I remember learning as a child.
{-ALERT: Multiple Untranslatable Words Upcoming-}
{-CAU: Religious Connotations-}
{-Attempt With Closest Spellings And Matches? (Y)/N -}
{-For Further Context, Please Consider These Resources(funny link)-}
The shaalna [Closest Translation: Sickle] of harvest bounty and the ahboorh [Closest Translation: Hammer] of industry are held in the lowest pair, closest to the ground where they would be used. A sun-shaped uurkhiil [Closest Translation: Shield] to protect from predators and twin nihaant [Closest Translation: Scales] of judgment reside in the middle pair, to protect the worthy and judge the sinful. Two pairs of its hands are empty, the lower set just above the shaalna and ahboorh cupping around the symbol on its chest while the upper set above the uurkhiil and nihaant had their hands spread to hold the world. Finally, raised above its head, are the two suljiit [Closest Translation: Torches] Solgalick uses to guide people through this life and send them to the next. The beliefs of the Followers are similar enough to the Church of the Herd for my father to have taught me some of them before… I ought to visit him once this is all over.
Yet for some reason, the statue gives me pause. I can’t place a claw on what, but it feels… wrong somehow. I squint, trying to scrutinize what’s causing that tickle in my brain. The statue is magnificent, beautifully maintained despite its age from what I guessed was the tender care of the priests. I could even see the evidence of thorough polishing on his braziers and helmet.
Wait. Not both braziers. A brazier, and the helmet. Where one is carved from marble with a metal basin, allowing the endless flames to burn, the other, completely metal one looks… damaged, despite its gleam. As if parts have been worn down over and over from the removal of… rust, maybe? Upon closer inspection, the left side’s brazier appears thin and brittle, shining like glass and looking just as fragile. Not only that, but the helmet appears to be in even worse condition, scrapes and pits scattered across its reflective, but clearly rusted, surface. Sure, the statue itself isn’t perfect: the paws and tail have some damage where the Followers would rub them, and flecks of dust stick to the body, but the helmet gives the impression it would be eaten away at any second.
Heh. Maybe we’ll see Solgalick’s face if it does.
But I can’t let myself get distracted by the statue, no matter what may or may not have happened just recently. It’s a good thing that I did, too, as I see the Yotul crouched by the base of the statue. I brush Sharnet’s legs with my tail to draw her attention back on course, just in time to watch our target enter something into a numpad. A slight hissing can be heard as the Yotul slips from sight. I don’t want to take any chances with self-closing backdoors this time around, so I grab Sharnet’s paw and begin booking it towards where the Yotul had disappeared to.
As I round the base, I see an indentation in the stone with a cold, blue light coming from within. Just as the hidden door starts to close, I block it with my paw, hoping that it has standard safeguards installed. To my relief, and the relief of my paw, it stops as soon as it feels stiff resistance and opens back fully. I huff anxiously as I slip my travel pack off my shoulders and barricade the door with it. “Okay, we need to be quiet. Leave your pack out here, I’ll use mine as a doorstop. Once we get some cans of Sun Bliss, head topside and scatter them around. I’ll do my best to draw Malcos out in the open. From there? I’ll leave it to you to make sure he doesn’t go anywhere.”
Sharnet lowers her head and straightens her ears, signaling her preparedness. I’m glad she’s feeling that way, because I’m certainly not. Once her bag is safely pressed against the base of Solgalick’s statue, she joins me in the cramped tunnel. I place my own case against the opened door, ensuring that it would remain that way until disturbed by Sharnet. Hopefully by Sharnet, in any case. We moved forward closer towards the edge of the spiral, and the tunnel became a descending staircase. We made our way down for several minutes, the passageway obviously new by the metal in its construction. As we pass one of the blue lights illuminating our descent, a realization hits me. “This is like the maintenance tunnels in Sidestar. These lights are too dim to have ever been in public use.”
“Hmh, maybe I gave Malcos too little credit,” Sharnet answers as the steps continue down. “If I had known that he’d be holed up in some underground bunker, I would’ve included a lot more places in my pool of initial searches.” As she says that, faint noises start to enter our ears. It sounds like when the warehouse in Dawn Creek was preparing to pack up shop, but more. Much more.
By the time the stairs become a level path again, I conclude we must have descended well below the base of the spire. As we approach the bottom of the steps, I hear the hiss of a door ahead of us, followed by a click as it shuts once again. I hold out a paw to stop Sharnet, investigating ahead. Far down the tunnel, I quickly find a single door in our path, and after checking it for any clearance locks, I open it to see what I find. All at once, the noises we heard hit my ears like a cargo hauler. It’s disorienting, spiking a quick pain in my ears as I struggle to adjust to the cacophony I thrust myself into. After a few nauseating moments, I finally manage enough to lift my eyes to the room and start to survey it.
Room is an understatement, this place could double as a spaceport in of itself! Chances are that’s exactly what this is, what existed prior to the sprawling complex that now flanks the temple on the surface. Multiple mobile landing pads hold shuttles being loaded with all manner of illicit substances, hundreds if not thousands of workers scurrying around the cavernous space below. Besides the old cargo shuttles, a couple of truly enormous dedicated freighter vessels rest dormant as they, too, are loaded with contraband. Slightly below us,, suspended monorails bring yet more supplies in to be loaded for transit, placing the cap on an immense and intricate underground network, quite literally in this case.
“This place is way bigger than I thought,” Sharnet says, gawking at the scenery from our elevated position on the catwalk. Before I can respond, she points at one of the personnel lifts, a brown form visible within it. “There he goes! You follow after him, I’ll get those cans of Sun Bliss from down below.” I flick my ears and start after him, only to have Sharnet firmly grasp my shoulder. I turn to look at her, confusion likely evident on my features. “And Vekna? Be careful.”
I lock her gaze for a single, eternal moment before I sign affirmatively. “I will.” With that, she releases me, and for the first time in a long time, we go our separate ways. As I speed towards the lift that would lead me towards Malcos, I glimpse Sharnet descending on a lift of her own, down towards the chaos of the bustling underground port. For a moment, I wonder if she chose her task because of my fear of crowds, but I dismiss that notion for concern over what it might entail. I’m…not ready to tell her yet. I don’t want to lose her friendship.
The lift I enter is as noisy as it is swift, causing me to stagger in place as it rockets me upwards a short distance. I come to a stop at the uppermost catwalk, the only thing between me and a [100 m] drop being a grated walkway. Thankfully, despite all the things I do have, I don’t possess a fear of heights. I’m careful to stay in the shadows as I trail behind the Yotul, making sure I’m as hidden as possible. As we go, I notice a small protrusion in the ceiling, a small room with windows looking down over the hangar. Of course, traffic control. Where else would Malcos be but looking over the progress of his operation?
As the Yotul enters the room, I know that I won’t be able to follow him without being spotted. I look around for a moment before I see a vent in the ceiling above me. It’ll be close, but I should just be able to reach up to it if I stand on the railing. Not wanting to waste a [second], I quickly find a corner to climb up on. Once balanced on the railing, I carefully slide my way towards the grate, careful not to let my paws slip. I almost fall once, only barely catching my balance as my heart hammers in my chest, but I manage to make it to the grate. I pop it out of its socket and pull myself up with some difficulty. I hurriedly replace the grate and start crawling through the shaft towards the room.
Thankfully, it’s basically a straight shot from my position to the control room, the sounds of conversation hitting my ears even as far as halfway there. “...glad to see that Vane actually heeded my instructions for once,” a harsh, gravelly, but distinctly Venlil, voice says, their words distorted by echoing through the ventilation shaft. Once I get closer, I can hear much more clearly. “I assume you come bearing tidings of good news, Clemmit?”
“Yes, Vane dispatched me to give you the all clear,” the Yotul says. I think I remember Vane also calling him by that name, which means it must be his. “I still don’t understand why I had to make it all the way here when a digital message would’ve been far faster. I know you’re worried about those journalists, but there’s no way they-”
“Them? No, I’m not concerned about them. Even if they booked the first flight here, they’d be too late,” the harsh-sounding Venlil wrongly assures Clemmit. Only now does it dawn on me who this has to be, shivers shooting down my spine. Malcos.
His fur is silver with age, though I can tell even from here that he hasn’t let that stop his physical prowess save from his left leg. That particular one was in a mobility brace, not dissimilar from Tarlim and Vane’s, albeit holding together far better than the latter example’s are. In addition, long, jagged marks scar his face, no fur growing back to cover the faintly orange flesh beneath. Someone injured him a long time ago.
“No, what I’m worried about is what happened after. The reason I instigated this comms silence is a far more tangible threat. When the Exterminators arrived on the scene, after some workers came running to them about it, they found the warehouse burned to the ground and everyone else dead.”
I couldn’t repress a soft gasp at that sordid realization, but Clemmit’s own was loud enough to cover mine. “You don’t think…?” Clemmit asked, his hackle fur raised in concern. “I mean, after what he did to you-”
“I need no reminders of what that mute freak did to me. I live with them every day,” Malcos explains, gesturing to his leg and facial scars. “The officers took it as the engines igniting a fire after the crash, but I know better. I fear he’s somehow caught onto our trail, likely by riding the tails of those nosy do-gooders. By the state the Exterminators found Kevros’ head in, there’s no doubt in my mind that if we do not leave now, none of us shall live.” I try to soften my breathing as much as possible so I can hear more about what they’re discussing and perform some reconnaissance of the control room.
Malcos gives an agitated huff and whips his head around towards the converted spaceport below, his tail lashing behind him. “I can barely believe how foolish I was to think I could turn that lardball’s bastard child into something more than the tainted man he received his genes from. I still remember how he tried so desperately to sound normal, begging me for that electrolarynx. The only reason I didn’t throw him in with the other diseased was to keep Vane in my good graces, but both that monster’s and his sperm donor’s priorities have since…shifted. I’m sure you’re acquainted with the latter’s alterations quite intimately.”
Clemmit shuffles uncomfortably on his feet as I process that information. Whoever this “mute freak” is that caused the deaths of all the people we left there, they’re also apparently Vane’s child. Given that Lervua didn’t mention him, that means that they’re likely older than her. I’ll need to fill in Sharnet about this afterwards. “Y-Yes, I have. He’s, uh, taken a liking to human foodstuffs. Those with…uh, with cheese especially.”
“I’m well aware of his taint, Clemmit, you have no need to convince me of it. Hopefully that last order of “been and…blugh, and cheese bureetos” will keep him occupied long enough for everything to be packed away. If those irksome journalists fall for the trap, all the better. That simply yields two starchbulbs from one stem.” Malcos’s tone is as cold as space itself, each of his words dripping with a palpable venom.
“Wait- you intend on leaving him here??” Clemmit asks, a confused tone in his voice. In between his words, I swear I can feel sporadic vibrations, but I chalk that up to the spaceport’s ventilation system. “But, what about the local office?? They’re under his payroll! If he catches wind of this-”
“He won’t,” Malcos interrupts, holding a finger up as he turns his head to look at the Yotul with his piercing gaze. I can now clearly feel vibrations through the vent and hear the rattling of the catwalks, along with what sounds like a dying conditioning…oh speh. “Nothing short of Vane coming here himself will change that fact, and even then only if you prefer a hole through your head, Clemmit. Besides, it’s not like that blithering fatass will be able to drag himself away from h-”
The door to the control room thunks open, and an all too familiar wheezing noise fills the room. Clemmit turns to the sounds surprised, whereas Malcos has a look of shock etched on his gnarled face. From the entrance, the bloated form of Vane waddles in, panting and wheezing profusely as he tries desperately to say something. Two guards come from the corners of the room to try and stop him, but Malcos curtly waves them down. “S-Sir!” Clemmit cries, rushing to Vane’s side to keep up appearances. He guides the obese Venlil to a couple of dusty control seats to sit him down, much to Malcos’ visible annoyance.
“You- What are you Doing Here?!” Malcos hisses at the panting blob, his own mobility brace whirring in a much more healthy manner compared to the puffs and sparks emanating from the ‘ambassador’s.’ “You are supposed to be at your manor keeping watch for the journalists!! What in the brahking Herd are you doing away from your post??”
Vane is unable to respond for a moment more as he continues to huff and wheeze, but understandable words eventually emit from his gullet. “S-Solgalick! Th-They -wheeze- they’ve damned me!! Y-You -haff- you have to get me -huff- off-world now!!”
“Wh-Solgalick?? Have you lost what little remains of your mind?!” Malcos questions incredulously before his ears perk up and he starts to whistle. “Oh my, it would seem that your diet finally caused you to have a stroke. About time, really. You made me lose a bet regarding its timing many rotations ago.”
“It’s -hrff- it’s real!!” Vane protests, Clemmit looking between the two uncertainly. “T-There was a voice and- and this light and everything! At the -puff- a-at the Governor’s Kitchen! I-I head Them! Everyone heard them! The whole restaurant!!” I barely suppress a whistle at how gullible Vane is, to fall for our ruse so easily. If it was one, anyways. However, Malcos doesn’t respond. He refuses to for a concerning amount of time, almost like he’s thinking. “H-Hello?!” Vane asks, waving his paw in front of his face. “Malcos, now is not the time to play statue!”
Upon that quip, a low, menacing whistle escapes Malcos’ throat, which grows into a hearty guffaw. Malcos and Clemmit look as confused as I feel, but I can tell that this laugh isn’t for any good reason. Once he settles, Malcos takes a long inhale before addressing Vane again. “...They’ve arrived, haven’t they?” Vane tries to respond, but Malcos slaps a nearby console with his tail to silence him. “That was rhetorical. If you’re here and ranting about Solgalick, that means you couldn’t enjoy your bounty for some reason, some reason I believe we all know.”
“But- that’s impossible!” Clemmit protests, standing from his inspection of Vane’s battered braces. “I left not even an eighth-claw ago, and the incident wasn’t even a full claw ago! Ther-” He’s about to continue, but Vane stops him, flicking his ears somberly to convey what he and Malcos both somehow know.
“That hasn’t stopped them before. They have a knack with arriving early, if you remember the readings from that old lumber mill. Somehow, some way, they’re in Scorched Sands, and you left them in your manor all alone, didn’t you Vane?” Malcos turns towards Vane, his mere presence sapping the warmth from my body. “You left them, unsupervised, when you’re well aware of the kinds of stunts they’ve pulled before.”
Vane tries to speak, but can’t get anything out from between his chubby cheeks. Malcos scoffs, and approaches him. “You do understand what that might allow them to do, yes?” He leaned in close to Vane, his eye mere [millimeters] away from Vane’s. “Escape, Vane. You have likely allowed them. To. Escape.” He then places his paws on Vane’s braces, and with a swift motion, does something to them. Whatever it was, the braces unlatch and quickly explode off of Vane’s compressed thighs with a stiff hiss. Vane yelps and Clemmit steps back as Malcos steps back, his tail swaying smugly behind him. “That is not a luxury I will afford you, Magister Vane. Clemmit, you are to keep watch over him, call the Exterminators, and ensure he stays here until they arrive. You will take the blame for this operation, Vane, as was intended from the beginning.”
“Wh- y- how dare you?!” Vane sputters, trying to stand but failing entirely without the aid of his braces. “I am an Ambassador! This is an outrage! Conspiracy! You have no right to speak to me in th-”
“Unless you wish for your pathetic life to be extinguished here and now, I would highly suggest you choose your next words very carefully, Magister,” Malcos says, a hint of glee in his voice upon finally telling Vane off to his face. “Heh, I wonder if this office will collapse like so many others once Tarva finally breaks the news,” Malcos whistles to himself whilst pacing around the room. “Perhaps you’ll be lucky enough to be incinerated along with the few containers of drugs we’ll leave. At least then you won’t be caught up in the madness about to swallow this planet. I anticipate the fires that will engulf the most fervent towns will make even Solgalick Themselves blu…sh…”
Malcos trails off and grows unnaturally quiet as Clemmit starts to quietly collect the separated halves of Vane’s mobility devices. I make sure that I’m as silent as possible as the weathered Venlil stares out the window to the cavernous expanse below. I can hear my own heartbeat as the [seconds] drag on, everyone present waiting for Malcos to return to life. Then, suddenly, Maclos turns to Vane, Clemmit, and his guards, the skin visible through his scars pale as he mutters two simple words that make my heart drop.
“They’re Here.”
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Hi I am Daniella, Cayde's owner. Cayde has not had the easiest of lives, he was the runt of the litter that no one wanted and was left behind. As soon as we saw the cheeky chap we knew he was our soul dog. He was diagnosed with Prepuce Cancer as early as 4 years old, where he had to have a skin graft and two surgeries to reconfigure his prepuce. Unfortunately that was not all, just before new years of 2023 he started showing signs of lameness on his back legs, he went to a local vets and they deemed it possible hip pain. On New Year’s Eve he woke up paralysed in his rear legs and in excruciating pain. We rushed him to an emergency vets where he was kept in hospital for 10 days. He was diagnosed with Stage V ANNPE which is essentially a spinal stroke - he has no sensation from his waist down. At this point the vet gave him a 8% chance of walking again… we started doing hydrotherapy, acupuncture, physiotherapy and muscle stimulation but nothing has bought back his sensation. He is now 10 weeks post injury, learning to adapt to his new quirky life. He is able to play fetch, run around the fields with his little brother Dante, and still be my shadow - We don’t love him any less and he is still the goofiest boy we know!
He is currently working with an Acupuncture Vet, a canine Physiotherapist where he does Hydrotherapy, Laser Therapy, and Physiotherapy, as well as seeing a Holistic Vet next week for further treatment options.
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This wasn't my first suicide mission.
I had subbed in for A2, our regular gunman. My squadmate, B1, had dropped us on a mission to sabotage an air base. Their AA defenses limited our drop arsenal, so we picked the bare essentials. B1 fancies the new Quasar cannon, an orbital laser for big bots, and an airstrike from his favorite Eagle. I've always been an AC kind of guy, with a couple strikes of my own, and an AC sentry, freshly jellied from the engineering bay.
I had no idea what I was about to get myself into.
B1 took the southern portion of the map. It looked harder from orbit, but he had the guns and grit to do it. My job was simple, I had the northern segment, with just a single dropship pad.
Getting to that pad was no easy feat, however. Three outposts and a blizzard later, my autocannon backpack was about half empty. I was middling on supplies, Eagle-1 only had a single strike left, and my sentry was on cooldown. B1 was clear on the other side of the map with the supply pod, gearing up to assault a Detector Tower.
As I rounded a sharp icy hill to get my first look at the pad, I could feel my heart sink.
The four-legged behemoth stood next to the vulnerable parked dropships. It was already facing me, like it knew I was coming.
"Hey B? That's uh... that's a Fac Strider. Guarding the dropship pad."
A moment of brief pause. "Oh fuck."
The absence of an offer to help meant that I was on my own. B1 was already in detection range of the tower, he had no choice but to push onward. And so did I.
I chucked my first airstrike at the strider, hoping to break its top cannon with one run. Eagle-1's payload landed clean across its back, but the turret remained in one piece. I must've sunk five more Autocannon rounds into that dastardly weapon before I realized my shots were pinging harmlessly off its armored surface.
"Eagle-1 rearming, be back shortly."
Fuck. I was on my own now. The strider let out a hellish bellow, its underside glowed red as it deployed its first wave of Devastators. The chainguns spun up immediately, harrying yours truly as I rushed to the mountain for cover. The top turret took aim.
BLAM! The first shot lands beside me, throwing me off my feet. I barely keep my Autocannon in my hands. My back is pressed against the icy wall, I can feel the thumping of my heart in my chest, and the steps of the factory in my feet.
BLAM! Another shot, next to me as I'm behind cover. I check my stratagems again. Sentry is cooling down, Eagle-1 is gone. I'm by myself.
The first wave of Devastators rounds the mountain and opens fire. I retaliate with a stun grenade, catching the lot of them in its wake, and blasting those fiends with shots from my trusty Autocannon. By the time I'm done reloading, the Factory has made its way around the mountain, and the chainguns once again whir to life.
I didn't feel the bullet wounds as I dove to safety behind a tiny cluster of icicles, but I did feel the hemorrhaging when I landed. My chest was split wide open, even as I jammed a stim into my neck I could feel death's cold grip clawing at me.
"I'm hit!"
BLAM! Before I can stand, my fragile cover is shattered out from in front of me, and my body slides across the ice, out into the open field. The chainguns spin up again as I scramble to my feet and dive for the mountain.
I land in a nook between the rocks. The gunfire harmlessly skitters off, tossing chunks of ice and rock into my helmet's visor. I'm pinned down.
"You need help?" From B1. But I can't afford to distract him, not as he assaults a tower.
"I'm fine!" I shot back.
BLAM! My hidey-hole is obliterated, and I'm violently thrown to the ground by the impact once again. This time, before those damned chin-mounted death machines can spin up, I dive to the side and find another nook.
I just need to buy time. Time for... something. A distraction perhaps.
My ruminating is cut short. Another Devastator wave is suddenly upon me, out of nowhere. I chuck a stun grenade blindly at them, catching myself in its blast, but I'm safe from the chaingun fire for now. They're so close, in fact, that I can't possibly miss, even as I whip out my Redeemer and spray down the first two before its righteous vengeance turns into impotent clicks. For the last one I swap to my Liberator, just in time to-
BLAM! I'm ejected from my spot, I must have flown twenty or so feet in the air, landing painfully on my back and once again out in the open. I try to sprint to my feet, but all I can do is crawl.
"My leg!" I shout out painfully. Somehow, as I was being thrown across the frozen landscape, the remaining Devastator had landed a pinpoint shot on my right calf, immobilizing me. That wasn't the only cause for panic, however, as I reached into my medical pouch but grasped only air.
"I NEED STIMS!"
This was it. Immobile, out in the open, food for the chainguns. At least I can take one last clanker with me. I drew a bead on the clanker's face, my autocannon sounds off, and it falls, just as the chainguns open fire. I shut my eyes, ready to embrace the sweet release of a hero's demise...
I hear the deadly guns spray at me. My life flashes before my eyes. And then...
Nothing. I open my eyes in disbelief. Every single shot from that deadly volley missed. Sweet liberty must've been protecting me, and she wasn't done with me yet!
I was able to scramble to my feet and leap to one side, landing behind a rock that was just big enough to crouch behind. My breath was haggard, my hands were shaky as I reloaded my Autocannon. And, just as Liberty would have it, at that moment, my Sentry had come back online.
I waited for the Factory Strider to waste its next shot. BLAM! And then I stood up and chucked that sucker as far as my arm could catapult it.
There's scarcely a sound sweeter to a Helldiver's ear than the successful deployment of something that can draw fire away from me. And draw fire it did. While its rounds glanced harmlessly off the armored torso of the beast, it served as distraction enough for me to make my own moves.
"My turn."
I drew a bead on the first chaingun, and... one, two, three shots, and the metal coupling broke, the lethal six-barrel dropping to the ground harmlessly.
BLAM! The top cannon obliterated my sentry, but it had already served its purpose, and I was already taking aim at the second gatling.
One. Two. I missed the third, but the fourth shot rattled the second deadly machine gun off the chin of the leviathan. I was ecstatic. Could I actually survive this encounter?
The Factory Strider had other ideas. Out from its bosom rose another legion of Devastators, their hate-filled eyes met mine as I loaded another clip into my trusty Autocannon.
BLAM! Right past me. The giant clanker must have lost its nerve, it shouldn't have missed such a clean shot. But democracy's tenacity had made me a bastion, I didn't even flinch as I unloaded my remaining rounds into the Devastators below, and felled them.
Finally it was now a fair fight. One on one, man versus machine. I knew what I'd have to do -- I'd have to make my way to the belly of the beast and let loose the righteous fury of the people's will. My headset microphone then chirped, and a voice sweeter than an angel's graced this grizzled veteran's ears.
"Super Earth's finest, back in action."
I could only imagine the grin on that pixie-faced blonde bombshell -- she had to know the effect she had on me. The code punch-in was like an involuntary response to her words. The arc of my right arm, catapulting that gem towards the behemoth would have made General Brasch proud. The spot that it landed was precise, spot-on, just like in training.
But the shriek I gave, the panicked, yet hopeful, "LIBERTY SAVE ME!" That was all me.
What followed was pure bliss. The fwoosh of the Eagle fighter's engines. The KRA-KOOM of her armor-piercing bombs. The secondary explosion of that damned cannon turret. And the pained guttural scream that the Strider bellowed as it fell to its knee equivalents.
"Boom. Target down."
--
Based on a real experience lol. I may have embellished the tale somewhat, but whatcha gonna do? Thanks to my buddy B1 for actually taking on that detector tower single handedly, I'm sure his story is just as (if not more) exciting.
Would love to tell more real tales from Helldivers II gameplay like this if this post gets enough love. Till then, Master Sergeant "F2" Fen, over and out.

“When your back is against the wall, everything in on the table. Narrow your timetable to the next few minutes, they’re all that matter. A bloody victory or a bloody death. Choose.” -The AI unwillingmainer (paraphrased).
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First, Previous, Patreon (W/ Rizz).
/
The world spun. Not just around Sustain, but inside her head. Groaning, she forced her eyelids open, the once-brilliant display of her mech's cockpit now a shattered, sparking mess. Her ears rang, a constant whine battling the dull throb of her skull.
Panic clawed its way up her throat. The battle... she lost. Her mech, a twisted mockery of what it once was, hung limply in the grip of another. A monstrous war machine, its dull green paint job streaked with oil and ash, loomed over her. Her breath hitched, her Dad’s face the only thing she was able to picture.
This was it. Capture. Or worse.
Suddenly, the enemy mech twitched, its heavy attention shifting away from her. A streak of blue light lanced across its bulky torso. Sparks showered. The enemy machine bellowed, a digitized roar of fury as it tried to swivel, target the attacker.
Too slow. Another bolt of energy, precisely aimed this time, punctured a joint. The enemy mech staggered, roaring, the crushing grip on Sustain's machine loosening.
Her ruined mech crashed to the scorched ground, sending a shockwave through her battered body. Pain lanced from ankle to skull, a vicious reminder she wasn't out of this yet. The enemy mech fell onto the feet of hers, shaking her battered body around once more. The headache was simply brutal. But at least she was alive, and presumably safe.
Had Churk and Jac returned for her?
She might have been too harsh in her mental estimates of the Algeen’s.
With a grinding screech, metal tore from metal. Sustain groaned as her ears turned the sound into torturous white noise. The front panelling of her mech's cockpit was wrenched away in a shower of sparks. Churk's mech hovered in the opening. Unless of course some other Tide mech had decided to save her, but she very much doubted that.
Churk spoke through the loudspeaker of his machine, his voice a warbling croak. Less like a frog and surprisingly more like a bird call, at least to Sustain’s untrained ears. Her neural link had performed an emergency shutdown after being overloaded by the electrical smoke and the damage to her machine. Had she not been in a combat zone, it would have been illegal for her to reboot the delicate brain interface so soon. But she did.
The headache lessened slightly, the pressure against her eyes fading away, and Churk’s voice filled her understanding once more.
"You alright? Nothing broken? Your machine is toast." Churk said, his eyes filled with concern.
"Just my pride." Sustain managed a weak grin.
"Humans." Churk scoffed, Sustain’s grin became just a little bit more vivid. Now he was getting it.
Effortlessly, Churk's mech reached into the wreckage. He scooped her up in one fluid motion, the strength and gentleness of the gesture momentarily erasing the brutal battleground around them. Churk cradled her against his mech's armour. It was oddly conforming to be held by something so large, even if the material she was pressed up against was so metallic and firm.
Churk slowly brought her up until she was eye to sensor array with his machine. He peered at her, through the enhanced vision of the mech, as if trying to weigh up her impressive achievements thus far with the things he was beginning to suspect.
“Why are you here Sustain?” He asked. Sustain found his voice to be calm. Too calm. Her heartrate increased as her grin was dashed.
“To recover the civilian population before the Tide can get to them?” She asked, faking a confused look, but she knew that wasn’t what Churk was asking. She glanced to her right to see Jac there too.
“You said there were a thousand of these operations taking place around Algeen Prime, but even if you’re the best humanity has to offer, watching humanities’ armies in action must truly be a sight to behold. So why so sparring with your forces? Why not take the fight to a capital city, and save a billion Algeen’s instead of at best two million? Where is the fight Sustain.”
Churk didn’t sound angry, but in his place Sustain would have been shaking with rage, so she answered slowly. Carefully. She just looked up. Night was falling, how long had she been out? How much time was left until the show started?
“You know what the Tide Mega Fleets are, yeah?”
A shutter ran through Churk’s spine.
“I’ve had the personal displeasure.” He waved his mech’s free hand at Jac. “We’re the only two that made it home from our carrier.”
His voice was smooth, too smooth. Too evenly controlled. But Sustain could hear it slipping. His control fracturing under fear and brutal memories.
“Humanity has six hundred systems to its name, once they’re done absorbing yours, which they will be very soon, the Tide will have over three times that amount. Even a grunt like me can see that’s not a winning proposition. We need an edge; raw skill isn’t going to cut it. We need a technological advantage. Which means time, and you don’t gain time by throwing your soldiers away to save a dying republic. Even if it’s the right thing to do.”
Sustain took a breath. A long, deep, breath.
“So, you’re here for the Mega fleets, the Tide’s best. Humanity intends to dull the spears edge before withdrawing to more defensible territory. To its defensible territory.” Jac was finally speaking, his voice raw with emotion. Thick and heavy.
Sustain glanced over at him, before turning again to face Churk. If anyone was going to kill her right now, it would be him. He wouldn’t let his subordinate perform such a morally grey action. Well, she thought he wouldn’t anyway.
“If we were going after those fleets directly, I’d be in orbit. This operation is huge, but even so, taking them on would be a massive hail merry. An all or nothing gamble and there’s no way high command would be that desperate just yet…” Sustain paused and looked down at the farm below her. “As I understand it, your planets core is hollow. There’s an absolutely massive AI core down there, and all the reactors needed to power it...”
Churk stepped back involuntarily and Sustain was knocked off his mechs hand. She fell hard onto soft soil, sprawling gracelessly out as the two Algeen’s towered over her in their Tide mechs.
“You can’t be serious.” There were both speaking at once, but Sustain could only hear Jac, as he took one massive step towards her. “Humanity wouldn’t… You wouldn’t. No one would. Not even the Tide would…”
Sustain simply rose to her feet, but suddenly found she could no longer look at the two Algeen’s in their mech’s faces. Silence stretched over the Algeen farm, as if even the dead that lay in the fertile fields were unwilling to moan or scream in either rage or pain.
Sustain flinched at Churk raised his mechs railgun and fired again, the Tide AA gun collapsed in on its and promptly exploded. That very same railgun spun through the air, and Sustain found herself staring down the barrel of a gun that was longer then she was tall.
“Swear to me, that you had nothing to do with the planning of this mission. Swear to me that you’re just a pawn. A tool used by desperate demons to accomplish this…” He waved at the AA gun with his mech’s other hand, and the barrel of the machine’s weapon swayed ever so slightly. “This… Pity mission… That’s why you’re here isn’t it? You figured out the truth, but you were never told. You’re here because in your heart you wanted to save those that you could, even if it was your own people that would kill them if you didn’t?”
Churk sounded less like he was questioning or threatening her, even as he held a massive weapon pointed at her. The damn had broken, Sustain thought he might be crying. He sounded like he was crying. Like he was begging her to be… good? Like he needed even those that might be his enemy to be, in some way or form, civilised.
Sustain knew what she should say, but she didn’t have it in her soul to lie to this man. She wasn’t raised like that.
“I didn’t have a hand in planning any of this. But if I was put in charge, it’s exactly what I would do. It’s this, and a thousand other black actions that win a war. This is why we’re here after all. To do what your republic wouldn’t.”
Sustain was looking Churk in his metaphorical eyes again, self-righteous in pose and prose. But she was shaking limb from limb. He had absolutely no reason not to obliterate her on the spot. No reason to believe the transport wouldn’t still deploy without her being there. He’d be right too; he could wipe her away without so much as a speck of blood on his hands. Without consequence.
But perhaps such a thing was simply too human for the Algeen’s. Or perhaps, with his very world about to be wiped away in the transition from one slaughter to another, he simply wanted to go home to his family still able to call himself a righteous man.
Churk lowered his mech’s weapon, and simply turned his back on her. His mech beginning the slow and plodding journey back home. To a new, albeit uncertain future. Sustain looked at Jac, who took longer as he weighed up the mental pros and cons of killing her, until eventually her too took his leave of her.
Sustain fell to her knees at the sight of the two ex-tide machine’s back. Suddenly feeling oh so very exhausted. For as alien as the environment felt, a farm was still a farm, the dirt itself was comforting. Familiar. All in all, this wasn’t a bad place to die. Saving almost two thousand Algeen’s in doing so. Not a bad way to die at all.
But she hadn’t saved them. She hadn’t saved anybody. Not yet, not until the war came to an end. Not until humanity levelled the playing field and beat back the Tide. It wasn’t ego that drove her forward, but duty. Humanity needed her skills right now, and she needed a way off this rock before it was blown sky high.
She checked her watch. Just over an hour left. Sustain looked at the piles of broken machinery, the Tide machines all had escape pods. Only the higher tiered slaves were able to use them of course, they needed special codes to be activated. But once they were, the pods had been known to manage orbit on low-G planets and moons. Humanity, and by extension Sustain herself, had those codes too.
She made her way over to the mech she had first faced down, the one she had balled over during her initial charge. Expecting the pilot to still be alive she pulled the auto pistol from her thigh holster and made sure its safety was off.
The acrid tang of scorched metal and burnt hydraulics stung Sustain's nostrils as she got closer. The enemy mech was a hulking monstrosity of angular plates and exposed wiring. One of its legs was mangled, but she didn’t need it walking.
Fortunately, her neural lace was able to interface with the Tide technology, but the mech wasn’t accepting the open cockpit commands she was sending it. Her heartrate increased. If the mech didn’t accept the codes she had, the escape pod might stay in hibernation and she would be very, very dead.
She calmed herself with a deep breath and the thought that it could be a simply mechanical failure. She had hit the damn thing pretty hard, heavy armour or not, something might be damaged in the cockpit’s mechanism.
With a practiced eye, she scanned for weak points, a way to breach the enemy cockpit. A massive dent near the central torso had pulled two central pieces of armour apart. It offered her the best route. Sustain wormed her way into the machine, trying to keep her pistol pointed forward, trying to avoid cutting herself.
Once under the armour the problem became apparent. The cockpit was opening but was colliding with the central chest piece, which was stubbornly refusing to move. So she had just damaged something, good. Even better was the fact that the gap between the cockpits door and the armour was wide enough that Sustain was pretty sure she could squeeze inside of it. Even without moving the armour. Of course if the enemy pilot was awake, they might take offense to that action…
She paused for a long few minutes, simply listening. She couldn’t hear any movement or alien swear words from inside the cockpit, but she did think she could make out, ever so faintly, the breathing of the pilot. Unconscious perhaps?
She didn’t have the time to be sure, and if the pilot was unconscious, she wanted to make her move before they woke up. She tried to move forward with her gun out, but quickly found herself needing more then one hand in the tight space. She holstered the gun but left its safety off just in case. Sustain moved forward and slowly forced her way through.
Inside, the cockpit was a cramped nightmare of sparking panels and flickering alien symbols. And in the centre, slumped against charred consoles, was the pilot. Not the hulking humanoid she had mentally expected, but a lean, mottled green reptilian creature. Its scaled skin gleamed dully, and its chest rose and fell in shallow, unconscious breaths. A trickle of purple blood oozed from a head wound.
Duty warred with something close to pity inside Sustain. This was the enemy, the invader. Yet, they looked so... fragile. She should shoot him but… She thought of Churk and Jac, who really should have shot her. With a sigh, she pulled a length of field cable from her belt. A few swift movements, and the alien was trussed up, secured but not injured.
Only then did Sustain turn towards the mech's core console, she would have to time this perfectly, but if she did the cockpit would be launched skyward and then propelled by the shockwave of Algeen Prime’s detonation. Once in orbit she would just have to hope and pretty that it was the human forces who recovered her first. She really did not want to see what the Tide did to captured soldiers.
She still had a bit of time though, so she set an alarm with her neural lace and laid back. Attempting to ease her headache by resting her eyes. She had the feeling that in the coming few years she was going to be very, very busy.
/
First, Previous, Patreon (W/ Rizz).
​
Want me to write you a novella? I'm taking comissions!
/

I forgot about this account until I got notifications for DM’s. A few of you asked about how I’m doing so I figured I’d post an update.
I’m now 112.9lbs and struggling to maintain it. I can now eat two meals a day, but I never seem to get around to it- usually I only eat once a day still. I try and make this one meal as dense and protein packed as possible, and I’ve gotten used to feeling sick afterwards. Feels like a rock in my stomach. Kinda sucks. Good news is I’m no longer in the 90’s and I’m nearing 115. 120-130 is my goal range, hoping for 125.
Funnily enough I ended up going to Japan for 2 1/2 weeks earlier this year to see family. I was eating 4 meals a day without issue and as soon as I come back to the US I get sick. Really funny how that works. Somehow I didn’t gain any weight. Just ate a fuck ton of absolutely amazing food and it went… nowhere? Granted any of the weight I gained in the past year seemingly went nowhere because my body hasn’t changed at all physically. Still ribs, still hip bones, thighs still don’t touch, still flat all the way around, still ugly from the neck down.
Ironically Japan didn’t have clothes that fit me either. The smallest bra size they had in FOUR STORES was TWO US cup sizes above mine. Nobody seemed to carry xs or s at all and the mediums I tried on hung off me like trash bags. I made a pit stop specifically in Harajuku to find clothes and I found a jacket and that’s it- and it’s huge on me. I was really hoping to find more clothes that fit but I guess not.
I still don’t see a woman in the mirror, I still see a malnourished child. Unfortunately so do other people- I’m being fetishized to my face by someone I hardly know on my college campus because I’m “barely legal looking” and “so thin and small I could throw you around it would be so hot.” It feels fucking gross and just reinforces the idea that I won’t ever be perceived as a woman, I’ll just be perceived as a malnourished preteen girl.
I still don’t own a dress, a proper bra, a swim suit or a women’s cut shirt because they don’t fit or they look like a 12 year old trying to dress older. No swimming for me again this year I guess. That’s okay, nothing I can really do about that.
Overall the only difference gaining weight has made is that now my periods are even worse. Today I collapsed in my kitchen from the pain and smacked my head on the counter on the way down. They hurt way more and last way longer now. Part of me regrets gaining any weight solely because of how bad it’s gotten- and then I have to remind myself that I want to fill out my clothes lol.
Other than that I’ve found a love for birds. I rescued and rehabbed a mockingbird last year, he lives in my yard now and I hear him singing often. Started feeding the crows and ravens too, and they started leaving shiny little things for me like soda can tabs. If no one else got me I know these birds got me 💪😤 (as long as I feed them lmfao). It’s almost relieving to know that they just see me as me , instead of seeing me the way I see myself, and apparently the way other people do too. My comfort lies in those feathery friends outside that sing in the mornings. That’s all I’ve got.
So yeah I guess not much of an update. I hit almost 113lbs but still don’t feel like a woman. I guess I’ve accepted that I probably never will and I probably won’t be perceived as one. It still hurts but it hurts less than it did before. Part of me feels selfish for feeling this way when people have bigger issues- and then I have to remind myself that I’m being stalked on campus over mine so it’s definitely not small.
I guess all I can do is keep trying to put on weight and pray that either the weight will make me look more womanly or that “second puberty” will hit me where the first one didn’t (which is everywhere but my uterus, please I can’t handle bleeding for more than 18 days, second puberty better be nice to my uterus).
All I can really do right now though is celebrate the tiny little victory of hitting 112.9lbs. It ain’t much but it’s honest work.
If you made it this far why are you wasting your time on Reddit go get some fresh air and feed the birds, doomscrolling isn’t good for either of us.
Kidding, kidding. Thanks for reading and thanks to yall who checked up on me, it means a lot to me.

I’m trapped. I can hear that thing lumbering through the hallway. My God, what the hell is it? I’m trying my best to keep quiet but I can’t help but whimper. The soft scratching of my pencil on this notepad sounds deafening in the quiet of this tiny closet. I’m almost certainly gonna die in this place. I just hope someone can find this, maybe it will do some good. Or maybe it already doesn’t matter. I’m not sure how long I have until that wheezing thing finds me. Oh God, or that grey stuff might ooze under the door and dissolve me. Oh my God! What it did to Benny, Bill, Jonesy and Donald! To all of them! Even if I don’t survive, the world needs to be warned!
Long story short, I was a cop but I got shot in the head. The doctors said I was lucky, that it went straight through without hitting anything vital. However, I still needed three steel plates to hold my fragmented skull together. Also ended up with permanent tremors in my right hand from brain damage. So it’s no surprise that my cop career didn’t thrive. Just a year later I was a “retired” 45-year-old cop, living on scraps. After a few months, I started to get desperate for work. One evening at my pub, my friend, Graham, mentioned an acquaintance who was looking for employees for some private research institute in the Mojave Desert. “What, are they still blowing A-bombs out there?” I scoffed, eyebrows arched with bemused incredulity. Graham stared down at his beer, “Not sure what the hell they do. But they pay super well, so who cares,” he took a long sip of beer, foam clinging to his lips, “I think it would be a good fit for you”.
Turns out this facility, and it really is known as the “Facility”, was located in the middle of nowhere. When I looked it up online I couldn’t find any information. Later that week I called the number that Graham had scrawled down for me on a beer stained napkin. My right hand was useless to me if I wanted it to do anything that required fine motor function, so when I dialed the number on my phone I had to use my left hand. The phone rang twice before a metallic feminine voice answered and said to hold for an operator. After a few seconds of muted elevator music, I spoke to a soft voiced man who told me my skill set was perfect for their current vacancy: a security management position. He said if I filled out some forms they would pay for me to fly on out for an interview in person.
One month and several NDAs later, I was employed again! By the time I started my new job I realized I had no idea what research went on down here. During the interviews my duties as a security manager had been discussed but any mention of their actual research interests had been carefully avoided, redacted or omitted. The security staff were also told to avoid fraternizing with anyone not from their own department, including security personnel from other sections of the Facility. On my first day I asked others about the nature of the Facility’s research, but no one had any interest. “Just stick to your contract. No point in rocking the boat,” my new boss, Bill, said to me curtly. So since then I’ve not discussed it with anyone else.
If only I had, maybe I would have seen this coming. The section of the Facility which I managed was section B.15. This area, like most of the core Facility, was located several hundred feet below the sun scorched surface of the Mojave Desert and comprised many green painted corridors peppered with tall, wide doors made from dark, stainless steel. The rooms inside were large and sterile. Artefacts were cleaned and studied in these rooms after they were brought from the excavation sites (sites E.1 through E.27). Of course, whether we wanted to know the nature of the research or not, eventually, after patrolling some of the research labs for weeks, it wasn’t difficult to figure out that the scientists were mostly archeologists or paleontologists. I would often find objects of different sizes and shapes lying around in various states of cleanliness. Some looked like ancient amphoras, or large stone bird baths. Others were less identifiable: a chipped statue, a melted lump of some unidentifiable metal or large chunks of a glass-like material. I found this all extremely curious because, as far as I knew, the Mojave Desert didn’t have much in the way of ancient architecture. At least of any ancient civilization that I know.
As the months went by I started to get friendly with the other guards, most of them ex-cops too, and we started playing cards and drinking Irish coffee in the evenings. My two main colleagues consisted of a jovial, short man with orange hair named Jonesy and a much older much grumpier and much balder man, Donald. They were good men and we had a lot of laughs together. My stomach twists when I think about where they are now. Though I grew fonder of my fellow guards, I found myself developing a severe dislike for the white coated researchers. Most of them were pernicious and arrogant. The only scientist my security buddies and me could stand was a scrawny man named Benny. Our favorite thing about Benny was that he never talked about his work.
It was earlier today, at around 1400h, when all the scientists were running from their rooms. They must have received some message a few minutes before and we watched them from the surveillance monitors as they got all excited and leapt up. Their lab coats flapped and flowed around as they jumped to their feet and made for the main exit. Soon after this the large red landline phone near my video surveillance desk began to ring. Expecting the call, I picked up the receiver before the first ring finished, “Hey boss, what’s all the excitement about?” Bill’s voice was uncharacteristically hesitant “The diggers have found a friggin’ huge object out here! The biggest thing they’ve ever dug up, it’s really irregular. They want to bring it to B.15 and I need you to organize the logistics and security”. My brow furrowed, “I guess it’s too big for the main entrance? Maybe we could bring it in via the big doors of the auxiliary hangar?” Bill grunted with agreement, “Yea, we’ll have to improvise a bit but should be manageable. I have no idea what it is… well you’ll see for yourself. I’ll get some of the boys from B.14 to help you out. And just, well…” He paused for a moment, “just be careful.” I grunted, my eyebrow arched from surprise; why was he so afraid? “Um thanks, appreciate it, see you guys soon”.
Donald, Jonesy and I had coffee in the office and called the guards at the hangar doors to arrange clearance. About an hour later we were at the platform near the doors waiting for the cargo to arrive. The massive metal hangar doors had been opened, which was rare. What was more irregular was that nearly every staff member from sections B.11 to B.18 were all gathered together in a silent knot of people. Despite the silence the air sizzled with anticipation, as well as the searing heat. I stood transfixed from curiosity at the massive doorway, waiting in the shade of the hangar as the relentless sun beat down outside. In the distance I saw a black speck grow larger against the bright blue sky. Slowly it took the form of a helicopter which was carrying a large rectangular shaped mass below it.
Within less than a minute the helicopter made its cacophonous approach toward the hangar and gently lowered the object onto an enormous wooden scaffold. I barked orders and signed forms as the guards rushed about, making sure the other personnel stayed a safe distance away. The air was blaring with the sound of the helicopter blades and sand rocketed into my face, forcing me to splutter. “Alright, let’s get this thing processed!” I yelled over the sound of the helicopter as its engines powered down, my colleagues and I wiped dirt from our faces. Bill emerged swiftly from the chopper and shook my hand. We quickly reviewed the paper work he gave me and then he made his way back downstairs to his office in section B.1. He was keen to get away for some reason.
“Alright, it’s officially in my care now. Show’s over. Get the non-essential personnel out of here immediately and secure the object. I want to get Benny up here to analyze it ASAP.” As my colleagues cleared away most of the staff and the excitement died down I was finally able to take a moment to inspect the object. It had been lowered onto the wooden scaffold fitted with wheels just outside the hangar and had been pushed slowly into the center. The few aircraft in this hangar were all currently under repairs and were non-operational, therefore there was plenty of space. As soon as I saw the sheer size of the object, I knew it would be difficult to transport, but not impossible. The object was a wall. Or a large fragment of a wall.
It was about twenty feet long, eight feet thick and ten feet high. At first the wall appeared made from some sort of boring grey stone. However, when I looked closer the wall was… alive. The wall’s surface bubbled slightly. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end as I stepped closer. When I was only a few inches away from it I felt cold. A bead of sweat ran down my cheek and I thought I heard something. It sounded like someone far away calling my name.
I felt a strange pressure around my head. A sudden invasive thought wormed to life: throw yourself into the wall. I shuddered and held myself back despite the sudden strong desire. I heard the faint voice of Benny and crashed back to reality. My eyes snapped open and I found my nose an inch away from the wall. It radiated cold like an open freezer and it smelled like rotting clay. The surface of the wall simmered ever so slightly. It reminded me of the fizz of some grey effervescent medicine. I paled as I took a large step backward, “I.. uh, what is this?” I turned to face Benny who stood with another scientist. He glanced at her briefly before he approached the wall to apply more straps. He was careful to avoid touching the wall with his bare skin. “Honestly, we have no idea”.
I got Donald and Jonesy to help Benny transport the wall down to room 278B via the service elevator. Donald grumbled about how badly the wall smelled and Jonesy had eyes as large as saucers when he saw it up close, “It looks so unreal!” Once downstairs I returned to my office to get some more coffee and file away the paperwork. I tried to put the strangeness of the wall out of my mind, but it had truly unnerved me. I felt so tired, my forehead drenched with cold sweat. I had been working extra shifts lately, but I had never been hit by such exhaustion so rapidly. As I sat at my desk facing the surveillance monitors I was unable to fight the sleep forcing my eyes shut.
I’ve had many hangovers in my life, most of them unpleasant, but when I woke up at my desk I’d never felt quite so singularly awful. My clothes were soaked with sweat and my whole body felt exhausted. My arms felt like molasses as I attempted to move. My forehead throbbed and I felt bruised. I also felt a pressure squeezing my head from all sides. It was quite peculiar. I sat back in my seat and rubbed my eyes.
Then I froze.
A hand was lying motionless on the floor just behind the table in the center of the office. I leapt to my feet and rushed forward. I gasped from horror as I saw Donald lying on the floor, his chest sliced to ribbons. Gallons of crimson red stained his blue uniform and his eyes stared up empty and terrified. Pallid and shaking I went to my office landline to call for backup immediately. As the receiver met my ear my stomach dropped into my feet.
The line was dead.
The sole means of communication within the core Facility is done through landlines. The landlines are monitored at all times and any interruption results in an immediate response from security. We had many protocols and fail safes to ensure communication remained enabled, but the line was dead and there was no sign of any response. In fact, how long had I been asleep? What was happening? I rushed back to the monitors. I hadn’t noticed it before but I couldn’t see anyone. The cameras were all operating normally but not a single person could be seen. The corridors were just as green and bare as most late evenings. I looked at the clock, it was only 1817h. I had slept for about two and a half hours. Where were the janitors? My heart was hammering in my chest and I couldn’t catch my breath. Meanwhile my head was throbbing and my eyes were burning. Suddenly I heard an indistinct whisper. Gooseflesh bloomed all over my back and arms.
I’d heard this voice before.
I’d heard this voice from the wall.
I turned to the monitors and searched for the wall. It had been brought back to the surface; the hangar! It sat upon the bare ground right by the massive doors. However, the doors were all sealed. The wall itself looked different. It was enormous! Almost three times longer and taller and wider. Just then, I realized that the titanium blast doors had been sealed as well. My heart rate doubled as I noticed large dents, scorch marks and scratches all over the doors. Someone had tried to break them down. The hangar floor was covered in blood and ash as well as abandoned weapons. My God, I even saw a rocket-launcher lying blackened and fractured near the doors. What the hell had happened?
I spun my head to look at the security control panel on the wall to my left. My heart, already blaring, felt like it leapt out of my mouth. My eyes grew wide as I realized someone, probably Donald, had activated a quarantine procedure. This meant that the entire Facility would be sealed airtight. The only way to open any doors now was from the outside. My God! Why had he done this? Where was everyone? Did he try to wake me? Did I really sleep through all this? I looked back at Donald, my heart still hammering from seeing his dead eyes stare into mine. I sighed sadly and glanced at the clock on the wall. It was currently 1831h. I returned to the monitors and began to rewind the security footage.
Surveying the screens, I watched my past-self enter the security office at around 1600h. By 1610h I had passed-out on my chair, drool dangling from my mouth. “Ok, so let’s see where the wall was at that time. Should be room 278B.” I thought to myself aloud as I clicked on the button that would display the footage from that room as well as the surrounding corridors. The screen was black as the footage loaded and I was about to hit the play button but hesitated. Did I really want to see this? I closed my eyes and took a few slow breaths. I can’t figure my way out of here if I don’t know what’s going on. I have to know. I hit play.
The camera was located opposite the door giving a full view of the room. At first everything seemed normal. Benny and some other scientists had transported the wall into room 278B. It was 1623h when they were taking the straps off the wall. A loud popping sound was heard and the researchers spun around. The lights in the room dimmed and flickered. Suddenly something long and slimy exploded from the wall, curled around Benny, and pulled him in. He screamed in terror as he vanished, his cries immediately silenced. My jaw dropped open and a small yell escaped me.
Without realizing it, I was instantly on my feet, shaking my head in pure denial. My heart burst. What the hell was that? What the hell? What the hell? My head was full of static. I felt tears in my eyes as I watched guards and researchers rush into the room. The wall shimmered, it’s simmering surface began to boil and bubble and it grew three feet higher. I saw it reshape itself so that intricately carved figures appeared on the wall’s edge. I leant in closer and gasped. One of those figures looked just like Benny, his mouth stretched open wide into a permanent scream. I didn’t want to continue watching, but I had to. The guards and researchers were horrified by what they saw before them. Suddenly, without warning, their body postures relaxed, their eyes grew glassy, and their arms fell slack at their sides. Those within the room moved as if sleepwalking. Some stayed still while others left the room. Brow furrowed from confusion and fear, my eyes swiveled to the footage of the corridor outside. The guards and researchers that had just exited 278B immediately began attacking and grappling those around them. I yelped as a vacant-eyed guard lazily shot another man in the leg. The thrall then dragged the wounded guard into room 278B. The mad guard held the wounded guard’s leg fast as he casually walked into the grey wall, pulling the struggling man in behind him. During this altercation I noticed Donald for the first time, he was hiding behind the corner of the corridor at the far end and was firing his gun at the madmen. He didn’t manage to hit anyone though. He then ran over to help a stray researcher to their feet and then they both ran down the corridor and out of view.
I can still hear the cries of pain and pleas for mercy as those who fell victim to the thralls were each dragged into that horrifying wall. With every person it swallowed, the wall wriggled and grew and grew. More and more ghastly decorations began to bloom on its surface, all of them made from the bones or likenesses of those who had been absorbed. The bigger it got the stronger its psychic influence became until it seemed to reach nearly everyone in the Facility, turning them into thralls. I looked on in horror as one by one, all janitors, researchers, guards, diggers, admin staff, everyone gradually stopped what they were doing, mid conversation, their eyes emptying. The janitors dropped their mops and buckets. Researchers dropped precious materials and equipment without care, letting them smash to pieces. In unison they all slowly, with vacant expressions, moved toward room 278B. Among the horde of thralls, I saw Bill and Jonesy, and so many others I knew by face. A guy who’d held the door for me once, a researcher who always slurped her coffee at lunch. Hundreds of people! What filled me with an unnamable dread was that I knew what was gonna happen. I knew what was coming. I tried to shout at the monitors, “Stop! Wait!” I grabbed the monitors and shook them with frustration.
A terror began to fill my stomach, deep and cold and aching. Suddenly I noticed Donald reappear on the screen. He was trying to hold back the researcher he’d helped earlier, but it was useless. I saw Donald, chest heaving from effort, stare with incredulity as he sat defeated on the ground. Everyone else around him stumbled dreamily toward their doom. But Donald refused to give up. I saw him run from corridor to corridor, trying desperately to stop them. He threw chairs and tables in their way but they simply pushed them aside or jumped over them. I saw him run toward this office. I saw him enter, saw myself slumped on my chair still completely unconscious. I saw Donald try to shake me awake, he slapped me a few times and was yelling in frustration. He gave up with me eventually and ran over to activate the quarantine lockdown. I saw him tear down the hall back toward room 278B, pistol in hand.
My best guess was that he saw what was happening in room 278B and decided he was gonna stop it. However, as soon as he got close to the door a long pale tendril burst through the door directly into Donald’s chest. The tentacle had a hooked end and it slashed at him. I saw blood spurt out of him, saw him stumble and fall from the ground in fright. However, he still managed to get a hold of his gun and fired multiple shots at the tendril. It writhed and flailed. Donald took the opportunity to climb to his feet. He grimaced and clasped his chest as crimson leaked to the floor. He moved back down the corridor, much more slowly than before. Eventually he got back to the office. He locked the door and then collapsed. I cried out in frustration. That whole time I was completely useless!
My mind felt like static again for a few seconds. I couldn’t work out what my next move should be. A thought hit me hard, one I should really have thought of before. Why had Donald and I not been psychically affected by the wall? Everyone had been enslaved, everyone had been forced to walk into that wall. Why not Donald? And me? I knew it must be connected to my horrendous sleepiness. My eyes grew wide with sudden realization. “Shit, the steel plates in my head!” Donald had a single steel plate in his skull because of a rock-climbing accident he had in his 20s. When I got close to the wall, had it sensed my resistance? Had it tried to incapacitate me? If so, it means this thing possesses sentience.
While I pondered this, I noticed some thralls re-strap the wall in room 278B. They transported it to the elevator and back up to the hangar. Once there, the thralls moved the wall off the scaffold onto the floor and began to beat heavily on the large metal doors with bare fists. Some even shot at the doors with their handguns. The ricochets killed a few of them but not one single person seemed to even notice. Some of the guards even used a rocket launcher! I yelled with shock as they fired at deadly close range, lazily blowing themselves up, leaving the doors scorched. After this proved futile, the thralls all grew suddenly rigid. Next, they all formed a line in front of the wall and one shambling step after another, all the remaining employees were - assimilated. Even the dead and wounded were not spared. Those still alive carried the corpses of their fellow thralls into the wall.
It was 1705h when the last employee disappeared forever into the grey horror, and the wall expanded to its current size. Without warning, a large writhing mass of twisted limbs emerged from the wall. I gasped from horror. I couldn’t tell exactly what it was because the lighting in the hangar wasn’t good enough, but it definitely wasn’t human. Its silhouette was about seven feet tall and thin and stretched. It had too many legs and it didn’t seem to have a head. This thing lumbered over to the doors and began to strike them with a strength and ferocity one would only find in a starving polar bear. I could tell that the doors were taking strain, and they began to bend, but even then, they would not yield. After about half an hour of smashing the door, the creature stopped and slowly shambled toward the stairs. My heart froze. It was coming here! Or was it here already?
My eyes swiveled back to the main monitor and I was surprised to see Donald still alive. He was scratched and bleeding badly as he shakily pushed himself from the floor. He then looked up at the ammunitions cupboard and began to search through his keys. I saw him curse. He couldn’t find the key with his trembling, bloodied fingers. In the next instant his eyes bulged and he heaved as if vomiting. His body doubled over and long grey tendrils oozed from his mouth and wriggled furiously. He grabbed his throat and fell forward onto the floor. Frozen in horror I watched as his body squirmed and he wriggled as if his intestines were filled with snakes. I continued to watch absolutely transfixed as three long grey tendrils emerged again from between Donald’s lips. Slowly they wriggled free of his mouth. They were about half a foot long, dull grey and thin like spaghetti.
I watched as they slithered toward my unconscious form on the monitor. I bit my lip and stood up. Slowly my brain put two and two together. Bile rose in my throat. I yelled at myself to wake up and see the worms. Just then my stomach dropped and I could feel an itchiness in my belly. I could feel the wriggling itch of a thousand grey eels in my gut. Or was I imagining it?
My stomach writhed and I was about to puke when I saw myself awake and stretch in my chair. The worms somehow realized I was awake and they moved out of view towards the –before I could watch the screen any longer, I heard a hiss and something slimy and long wrapped itself around my throat so tight I couldn’t breathe. I gasped with surprise and strained my neck to look at the monitor that showed the room in real time. I saw from the camera behind my head that something thin and grey had wrapped itself around my throat. I saw two more of those things coming at me from behind as well. They were about to come wriggling up my chair when I grimaced with anger and grabbed my gun from its holster. The thing around my neck was hissing and making awful clicking and guttural noises. Its small worm head had a mouth that bit and it latched onto my neck to suck my blood. I pulled at the leach and pressed my gun up against it. I pulled the trigger. With an earsplitting bang and a sound like a water balloon popping the leach was reduced to sticky goo. I pulled the remnants of the leach off my neck and spun around just in time to shoot and kill the others. I grinned with a mad-joy and yelled with relief. Immediately, a wave of nausea and exhaustion hit me and I fell back onto my chair. “What the hell was that? What the hell do I do now?” I sat still for a moment and tried not to lose my mind completely. I swear I could hear Woody the woodpecker laughing somewhere in the distance. I needed to keep it together. I took a long deep breath and tried to think of a way out.
Summarizing the details of my predicament, I realized I was trapped alone inside the Facility with an otherworldly force. Also, even if I found a way out, I’d potentially be letting an evil into the world that could destroy all life. At once an old thought returned to me, one I’d often experienced as a cop. “If I need to sacrifice myself to save others, I will do so without complaint.” A wry smile spread over my face. “Once a cop, always a cop.” My smile vanished as a I continued to think. “But my God, if this thing gets out. If it gets into the minds of other people. If it gets larger and larger. Could it swallow the world? The solar system? What other monstrosities would it unleash?” I was talking aloud now; the sound of my voice gave a new reality to my situation that made me shudder. I turned back to the monitor. It seems I was all caught up with what had happened. I stared blankly into the screen while I watched my past-self continue to wake and wince from pain. I switched the monitor off and saw my reflection in the blackness of the screen. I was pale and my eyes were wide and unblinking. “What do I do now?” I turned in my chair to look at Donald’s body. Were all those worms gone? Could some still be hiding? And what should be done with his body? Probably best to have it burned. “Poor Donald, he didn’t deserve this”, I muttered softly as I examined his corpse, making sure there were no unexplained twitches beneath his skin. My eyes moved from his body up to the ammunition’s cupboard just above. “Wait, why was he trying to get into the cupboard earlier? We don’t have much…”, my eyes grew large with realization. “Holy crap, he was trying to get the bomb! Me and Donald were gonna use a left-over bomb from the excavation site to blow some random shit up!”
I sighed sadly and heavily. We never got around to it. I stood up quickly and walked up to the cupboard. I pulled out my keys and quickly found the key I’d need. I opened the cupboard with little effort and found the ten kilos of plastic explosive inside. It had already been set up with a sixty second timer and a remote detonator by a colleague. I sat at the table with the explosive, a vague plan forming in my broken mind. “Maybe if I somehow get this wall-thing to eat this bomb then...”
Before I could formulate my thoughts fully, the lights flickered, and the entire Facility was plunged into darkness unceremoniously. My nerves were burning with fear. What had happened? Had that thing knocked the power out somehow? The next few seconds that past were some of the longest I’d ever experienced. However, dim green light bloomed to life and the reserve power kicked in. Then I heard slow, shuffling footsteps in the corridor just outside the office. I froze once again, my insides turning to mush. My mind raced. Had I remembered to lock the door? My stomach leapt into my feet as I heard the shuffling get louder and louder. I heard hoarse, wheezing breaths, as if the thing struggled to breathe. I jumped from fright but remained absolutely silent as whatever the thing was banged on the door with a deafening blow.
BANG! The door shook and bent slightly.
BANG! Silence for a moment.
BANG! BANG! Again silence. My heart was hammering in my ears and I sat deathly still. I could hear that thing breathing louder. After a few moments I heard it shuffle away. My entire body was shaking as relief washed over me. Whatever the thing was, it had walked away and I could no longer hear it. I turned to look at the monitors. Dare I turn them on and check what it was? After a few seconds of consideration, holding my breath, I turned to the monitors and switched them on. I waited in nervous anticipation as the screens flickered to life showing me that all the corridors between me and the wall were currently empty. I didn’t bother checking the corridor I suspected the shambling thing was in. I didn’t want to see it unless I needed to. I’d had just about all the stress and terror I could take and by this stage I felt weirdly calm. It must be shock. A thin sigh escaped me as I stood. The fear in my blood began to feed a furnace of anger in my heart. I thought about all those who I had lost. I felt my expression turn to granite, “It’s time to kill this thing.”
I opened the door slowly, my fully loaded gun in my good hand. Spare ammo along with the explosive and a shotgun was stashed in my backpack, and the remote detonator was tied to my belt. I held a heavy-duty flashlight in my shaky right hand. I moved cautiously through the dark green corridors. I’d never thought of how creepy this place could be until this moment. Gooseflesh crept up my arms and neck as I continued. All I could hear were my soft footfalls and shallow anxious breaths. I cleared the corridors one by one until I made it to the stairs that would lead me to the thing that looks like a wall. I walked up the stairs slowly, my ears honing in on any sound. That’s when I heard it. I heard the soft sound of crying.
Someone was crying. I stopped dead in my tracks. My entire body shook from the adrenaline surging through me. I took one step. Then another. Slowly, I climbed. Once my head could peek over the top, I froze. Jonesy was squatting on his knees, naked. He was between the wall and me, with his back facing me. The terrifying thing loomed enormous before us. It was now framed intricately with the skeletons of hundreds of people, all twisted and screaming in agony. Writhing, tortured souls fused together. Then came the sound of crying and moaning from the wall. I could hear them all. They were all screaming. Screaming for me to help them. To join them. I felt that pressure squeeze against my skull tighter and tighter. I shook my head in defiance. “No! You bastard! NO! I will not join you! You’re not Jonesy!” All at once the moans and wails stopped. I suddenly found myself at the top of the stairs without knowing when I’d finished climbing them. “But we are Jonesy” came a voice that was not human. It was a voice made from all those it had swallowed up. It was as though something had made a distorted copy of the voices of all those people and then just used them all at once to speak. It didn’t understand the concept of individuality. All of a sudden, the wall rippled and grey tendrils squirmed from the flesh of the wall, curling around Jonesy as they teased his face and slowly pulled him in. As he disappeared there was a horrendous sucking, squelching noise. “We are Jonesy. We are all. We can be all. We will be all. All and all and more than all.” The voice was chanting this over and over. Louder and louder.
A deafening blast came from the wall and a slithering, writhing mass of tangled human limbs emerged. It had four legs and several arms. It looked like the bodies of eight or more people shuffled and glued into an otherworldly horror. Its multiple mouths screamed a high pitch squeal that was more horrifying than the screams of the damned, and its sharp pointed teeth gnashed and chomped. I only had a second to dodge this monster. I leapt to the side and fired multiple shots at the thing’s center of mass. Its horrifying body of fused torsos wriggled and bled black ichor. It screamed with pain and jumped at me, grabbing my leg. It tossed me into the air and I almost lost my gun as I slammed into the floor a few feet away. Before I could catch my breath, it was upon me again. From the ground I fired several shots at it. This made it jump away and scuttle down the stairs. With it momentarily out of sight, I quickly got to my feet and kept my eyes on the stairs.
After a second, I decided to kneel and take off my backpack as fast as I could. I pulled out the bomb and started the timer. I also decided to get the shotgun out and get it loaded. I needed to do this now or never. As the final shell clicked into place I heard a roar coming from the stairs. The thing was back. Before I could react, it leapt at me and knocked me to the ground. The bomb flew from my grasp. It bared down on me, grabbing at my throat ready to tear me apart. My reflexes saved me though and I managed to use my shotgun to hold the thing at bay, but it was too strong. Desperate, I kicked it hard in the chest and it let go. I used this moment to grab the bomb that lay behind me; only 37 seconds to go! Terrified and crazed, sweat pouring down my face, my mind in pieces, I rammed the bomb into the creature’s mouth and kicked it back again as hard as I could. I heard it yelp like a wounded dog and it lost its footing. It fell sideways and in that second, I took my shotgun and fired at it in the chest. The force of the close-range blast sent me flying. At the same time the creature was hurled back into the wall where it was enveloped quickly.
My head was fuzzy. I was dizzy and the wind had been knocked out of me. Was the bomb going to work? I felt something warm and wet drip into my ear and touched the side of my head. My fingertips came away soaked in blood. My head was spinning. With a foggy mind I grabbed my bag, collecting my weapons and flashlight. As I stood up I heard a low rumbling sound. The ground beneath my feet shook and for a moment I was confused. Then I looked up at the wall. Its surface was roiling and boiling like I’d never seen before. It was shaking and growing. I turned to run when suddenly there was a massive blast from inside it, and the entire wall exploded into hundreds of small grey chunks. These chunks rained down all around the hangar, smashing several aircraft. The blast knocked me off my feet and this time I definitely passed out because when I awoke I could see daylight through the tiny cracks in the blast door. Where the wall had once been now stood a small blackened crater. I turned around to inspect the wall pieces and found that they – my eyes grew wide and my mouth opened. They were melting. As I approached a fragment of wall, a horrible twisted hand shot out at me. I yelled and jumped away. It was still alive! I watched in dumbfounded horror as the pieces continued to melt and began to merge, just like that scene from Terminator 2.
It was rebuilding itself. Then I heard a groan. My blood became ice. I turned slowly in terror to find the shambling, wheezing monstrosity behind me. Like the creature I'd shot, this one seemed made from bits and pieces of human limbs knitted together randomly. This one had legs which came out its mouth, its head positioned within its torso where the bellybutton should be, and it wheezed in pain. I almost puked from fright but my legs were already carrying me away. I sprinted down the corridors, ignoring all the pain and fear and exhaustion and anger and frustration I had inside me. Without thinking, I leapt into the first janitor's closet I found and locked the door with a dull clunking sound. After catching my breath, I found this notepad and pencil, and have been writing this report in the sterile glow of my flashlight. Hopefully, I have left some useful information for anyone who may find this.
Now I lie in wait for that thing. Now I lie in wait for that grey ooze. What is that thing? Is it truly indestructible? If it can survive a bomb like that, what hope do we have? It’s no wall at all. It’s a membrane. An interface. Somewhere very different is pressing up against us. It has torn a small hole, and was now prying it open further. I should blow up this whole damn place! I should burn it! But would it matter? Or would it just be buried, to be rediscovered? I think even if I survive this, nothing can help us. So here I wait, hoping to be saved, but even as I write this I can hear that thing walking past the door. With a soft click I turn off my flashlight. I try not to breathe. I can hear the snuffling, it’s right outside! I can smell its ugly breath.
Oh God! I hear the jingling of keys. The door is unlocking! How? How?
Oh God! The doorknob is turning...

Looking for some good news and advice. Some reassurance needed. I joined this group because my dad was diagnosed with Necrotizing myositis a couple of months ago. So a little history my dad is 69 years old and I would say his in pretty good shape for his age. My dad was always physically active and independent even down to helping me care for my toddler and all my other nieces and nephews who are very busy. 2 or 3 years ago my dad’s doctor prescribed him Lipito atorvastatin for high cholesterol. Over the past 2 years my dad has been in and out of the hospital for joint and muscle pain and aches, starting with his left arm that crippled him for over 6 months he went to different specialist but no one could ever understand what actually was going on and causing the pain. They kept writing him off with just arthritis and telling him to just take over the counter arthritis pain medicine. Then my dad got Bell’s palsy last year which before the diagnosis the doctors thought he may have had a stroke because of the left arm pain and discomfort. They performed different tests on him to rule out a stroke and heart attack and everything came back negative. He was cleared and the symptoms were definitely not due to a heart attack or stroke. My dad was prescribed antibiotics for the Bell’s palsy and had a complete recovery. He was back to him self, his left arm was feeling better and everything. He also gained back the weight he had lost prior to the left arm pain. This all happened between the spring of 2022/23. A few months went by and my dad was back to feeling good. November came around and he started feeling pain in his calves both calves, it even affected the way he walked. In one month he had trouble lifting his legs and even needed assistance with standing up after being from seated. He said that the pain was so severe that it felt like he was carrying weights on his legs which caused alot of pain and weakness. A few weeks went by and he got an appointment with a doctor who diagnosed him with peripheral artery disease. But they didn’t seem sure because they referred him to a neurologist and after further evaluation diagnosis they diagnosed him with nerve damage. But things just got worse from there.My dad went from having pain in his calves to having pain in the joints closer to the trunk of his body. He was unable to lift his arms and legs at all. My dad started getting so weak that he couldn’t walk without help he couldn’t climb the stairs he startedd having trouble swallowing and his voice became weaker and weaker. My dad started declining he was having shortness of breath all this cause he stress and depression even though he never complained I just knew that my dad was feeling very depressed about what he was going through. But he never complained and remained faithful to his beliefs. He lost so much weight because he started to lose his appetite. He lost over 40 pounds. This just happened within 1 month. We called around for specialist but the earliest available appointment he could get was in August and this started crippling him all the way back in November 2023. We were concerned and confused because we didn’t have any information or answers for him and what was going on. My cousin works for an hospital and heard about what my dad was going through and she used her resources and was able to get him an appointment with a rheumatologist specialist who was able to get him in much sooner. My dad was able to get seen and hospitalized a week after speaking with the doctor. He’s been being treated for the condition since February after a muscle biopsy confirmed his condition they prescribed prednisone and Antibiotics and calcium supplements etc. He’s been getting in inpatient rehabilitation after starting on IVIG infusions. He’s in good spirits and coming along. He lost so much muscle mass since the diagnosis but he’s slowly improving now getting his appetite back and I hear his voice improving and getting stronger as well. It’s been hard but he’s strong and a fighter. I’m just looking for some advice from someone who’s either experienced or knows someone who has experienced this. How was youtheir recovery and what did you have to do to get better and through it all? Thanks