How to hang fabric from ceiling

It's unsettling, how suicides always ravaged my family. There's barely half of them still standing, compared to just ten years ago. They would always develop some form of suicidal ideation and eventually attempt to go through with it, which is insane to think about. But there was one case that stuck with me for the longest time. When the generation of my parents found their way from Vietnam to Europe most of them would sooner or later settle in Germany. But my aunt remained in the Czech Republic. I'd see her and my cousin occasionally at family reunions and I would always enjoy the time we spend together. From all the conservative asian parents, she was the one most level headed and calm.
Over the years we would lose contact with her, until my mom suddenly announced that we would be visiting her at her place in the outskirts of Prague. Appearently she has gone insane in the meantime and my mom worries about her safety and the safety of a pet bird and a litter of baby bunnies including their parents, that she adopted. I didn't think much of it at the time, instead choosing to be excited about the family trip and the baby bunnies, we would be taking over.
Man, she was in a rough state. She would become my first contact with a unmistakenly manic, openly paranoid and uncomfortably unpredictable person. One second she would be the softspoken and kind aunty, caring lovingly for her many pets and the next she would yell profanties at the TV, thinking the goverment is harassing her with covert messages. Going out with her would prove to be troublesome as she would go on unprovoked hysterias and pick (sometimes physical) fights with strangers, all the time.
In the following days I would come in contact with the embodiment of her delusion: A manifesto, spanning over more than 1000 loosely connected pages, of what she presumed to be worldchanging ideas. It would cover a wide range of financial, social and psychological concepts. The theories she would go on to illustrate would start of rather basic and harmless and would go on to become certifiably psychotic. One of the tamer examples: She would tackle the human energy crisis, by letting elephant circle a lake, to power generators. The fish inside the lake would be trained to spit water at the surrounding lands, watering plants, which in turn would feed the elephants. That self regenerating cycle would then logicially churn out infinite energy.
What I read was the chronological documentation of my aunts descent into madness. Her writings and drawings would evolve over time, adding more erratic and chaotic characteristics. What pained me, was a certain obsession with the concept of loneliness and how humanity has to come together to overcome our difficulties. Her lines conveyed her own struggles with abandonment, isolation and solitude in a touching way. It must have been a living hell for her and these ideas would serve as an escape from this cruel reality. Her mind flying off to a world, where humans would watch out for each other with not a single soul left behind.
She would see herself as a target of the goverments, since her revolutionary ideas posed a threat to the status quo. Seeing bugging devices, goverment officials and hitmen in trailing cars and around every corner.
We would take her back home to germany with us, but her mania drove her back to her place to finish her work and we couldn't stop her. Looking back, we shouldn't have let her go. Not at all. She posed a danger to herself and others, but vietnamese people don't deal with family issues by using outside force, like the police.
Last thing we heard of her, was her begging my cousin to forgive and come visit her, but she refused. I wasn't old enough to take action myself nor was I able to. I didn't have the required bond to her, for my words to carry weight and meaning and I was not the one able to heal the wounds inflicted by others. It's a sad reality, often times it's not enough to hear certain words, even if they're true. We need the right person to say them and that person might not be able or willing to say these things with sincerity.
Months later my other aunt would call us, voicing the suspicion that she has left this world voluntarily and she was right. She hung herself, found by her daughter, who went to check after being contacted by my other aunt, with the same message. I didn't attend the funeral, but appearently she was already deeply purple and bloated, so some time must have passed between the act and our discovery. I think about her alot and it even haunts my dreams, way more often than I'm comfortable with. A reoccuring nightmare, in which I would walk into our dark kitchen with her hanging from the ceiling and me having no arms to cut her loose and no mouth to scream.
Back in the day I could never imagine, how someone would go off the deep end in such a devastating fashion, but I would get these thoughts shoved right back into my face by karma. Mania would go on to ruin me and give me a taste of what she went through. We are both cut from the same cloth. The uncontrollable thoughts and ideas, blatant disregard for other people, the inability to see and assess the consequences of your actions and to show discernment. The need to voice and capture your insanity in an increasingly deranged manner. And most of all the brief respite, where you come to your senses, just for a moment and fully see the shattered remains of what used to be your life. The phase where you try to reconnect and make amends with the people you have wronged. My room is littered with unfinished thoughts, some of them catching mold from the tears.
It was too late, when my aunt regained her consciousness. The damage to her relationships was already done and she went too far down a path, where others couldn't follow and rescue her anymore. It's fascinating, how communication can break down to the point, where what we say doesn't even matter anymore. I wholeheartedly believe that her final attempt to reach out was genuine. That she felt true need for it but she couldn't make her change of heart believeable to the people, that mattered. Our frame around our words dictate the message.
I feel like I am at this point. I don't know if I'm coherent anymore and I can't voice my thoughts anywhere but here, where only strangers can read them. There is still many letters to be written, yet never to be sent. I still want my thoughts to have the space to exist, once I'm gone. They will serve as proof, that I felt, that I thought and I lived.
With my time running ever closer to an end, I wonder, if it would have been better for me to have died with my integrity and dignity still intact. To have finished life before I would've gotten more chances to ruin everything. One of the main reasons I deeply regret surviving my first attempt. Now I am left scrambling for answers: How can I leave this life behind, before I fully end up like her? How can I minimize the damage after my passing? How can I make people, that got to know me, forget I ever existed in the first place?
Will I find peace in my final moments or will I go, drowning in emotions like she did?
P.S. There was some good in there, too. I would end up raising two generations of baby bunnies, which I loved more than anything in this world. They would lead very comfortable, long and happy lives. I would come to them, when I was broken and cuddle them mercilessly. If I was to be reborn, I'd like to be a pet bunny to a lost teenager, with the same fondness for bunnies as me.​

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WaveOfWire Edits :D
- - - - -
Harrison’s vision was still foggy from waking up, several blinks failing to clear the tears from his drawn-out yawn. He just escaped the encompassing embrace of his four-armed guardian, leaving their shared bed for the bathroom, where he would have to say goodbye to his beard. If he was going to travel out of the settlement, a proper seal on his gas mask was a must.
It was a shame. The slow buildup of the hair over the last month or so was a representation of his growth in a way, building up alongside his experiences in this hellhole, be they life-threatening or informative. It was almost like wiping the slate clean, even if cutting some chin scruff didn’t really change anything at all—he’d never be able to forget anything he had seen here for as long as he lived.
And there was no telling how long that’d be.
The engineer sighed, splashing the lukewarm barracks water into his face from one of the many wall-attached sinks, allowing him to fully open his eyes and size up the damage done to his favorite black blood-and-sweat-stained t-shirt. It always stayed in good condition with washing and fabricator repairs, but somehow Shar’s talons always found a way to make small holes in it. She wasn’t trying to, but with the way she fully wrapped her arms around him, the tips of her sharp fingers sometimes ended up poking into the fabric and causing some cuts.
It was such a small issue that he never considered bringing it up to her. Plus, she’d probably do her whole guilty talon-tapping thing with puppy eyes and all… He shook his head, letting the stray beads of water on his face drip into the sink.
His palm ran across his beard while his other hand reached for the razor. There wasn’t any shaving cream or the like, but he’d make do. At least he had one of the proper tools for the job. He went into the task, the blade driving through his scruff, slopping off wide areas of his hair from jaw to chin for a few seconds before it was interrupted.
A short ‘woosh’ of the entrance caught his attention.
“Aww, you’re shavin’ it off?” Tracy commented dejectedly through a yawn, the lazy drawl reinforcing the fact that she just woke up. “Th’ beard was sorta growin’ on me.”
He eyed her through the mirror, his voice coming out in a dull tone. “Yeah. I feel the same.”
She squinted under the bright bathroom lights, rubbing an eye with her wrist as she walked up to the sink beside him and started her own morning routine. “Mmm… Womp womp. Why though?”
“Need it to get a gas mask seal,” he stated flatly, focusing on the task at hand.
The technician stopped momentarily, the gears turning in her head before she gave him a downcast frown. “You’re still set on going for the vehicle bay? You know we can just send some long-range drones out there, right?”
His short exhale echoed throughout the tiled room. The engineer closed his eyes, already mentally withdrawn from the conversation. They've had this discussion twice now. “It’s to be better prepared for any chemical, biological, or radiological surprises that might come up—not just for the excursion. Even more importantly, there’s no guarantee the module is in perfect shape. If I’m there in person, I’ll have the means to get through anything for those blueprints. Plus, it should only be four days, so the only issues we have are my beard and finding a way to protect the Malkrin from the radiation while we’re out.”
Tracy looked like she wanted to say something back, but bit her lip and cast her eyes down at the sink in front of her, twisting the knob before mumbling a quiet response. “I don’t think you need to protect them from radiation at all…”
“Hmm?”
She stared at him meekly, his dismissal of her worries having clearly dampened her mood. Guilt tugged at the back of his mind before her words further caught his interest. “I think they’re immune… or resistant or something. Radiation immunity is the whole reason they were sent here. You’ve added up the pieces together too, right?”
He stared down at her, running a hand through his hair with tired exasperation depressing his voice. “Tracy, I’ve been trying my hardest to just make it another day on this God-forsaken planet, not dig into their religion. So, no. I have not spent the time to add up the pieces. Enlighten me, please.”
“…S-Sorry. I just, you know, get a lot of time to think when working on drones, and Cera has been drawing all kinds of representations of these things.” Tracy paused, gesturing toward the engineer. “Okay, so you remember the whole backstory for why the Malkrin are on the mainland in the first place?”
“Pseudo-eugenics?” he commented dryly.
“Yeah.” She nodded, a sense of excitement leaking into her voice. “And what were the parameters of banishing someone?”
“Not getting sick from a rock.”
She eyed him feverishly, brows raised with a sudden zeal. “Aaaaand that rock represented the Sky Goddess’ wrath, which did what?”
“Uhhh…” He looked upward in thought, recalling his conversation with the paladin. “I think Shar mentioned nausea, vomiting, blisters, skin melting… off…” He froze, the pieces forming. “Wait, you don’t think…”
“I do. Those symptoms could mean a lot of things, but the anomaly field was the real kicker. You know that Shar just straight up didn’t have any lingering radiation effects or anything while you were nearly put… six feet under…” Her voice quieted momentarily, the speed of her speech outpacing her train of thought. “Sorry. Um… so, I was gonna say that she, uh, I mean the scanner mentioned she had damage from ‘alpha particles’ on her skin, but nothing else happened to her organs or anything.”
Harrison squinted at her for a moment, mouth slightly opened and prepared to give some alternative reasoning besides ‘immunity.’ Maybe her armor protected her from it? No… she didn’t even have full protection, radiation would have certainly gotten around her eyes or snout. What about her height? What if… No.
He didn’t just want to believe that somehow the Malkrin could just evade a force of nature, but he didn’t have any way of proving or disproving it on hand… Well, no humane way of testing it.
“I… guess?” the engineer grumbled, rubbing his eyes. “Even then, they still need armor and gas masks. The worst part of the radiation isn’t even the ionizing part. It’s the trace elements that get into your lungs and decay there. So it doesn’t hurt to use some CBRN filters.”
“Fair… but it’s interesting, isn’t it?” Tracy beamed. “Like, what kind of evolutionary factors lead to radiation immunity? Why do only some of the Malkrin have it and others don’t?”
The only real cause of radiation he could think of would be a massive nuclear proliferation of some sort. Maybe the anomalies? He ran a hand through his hair, pushing the lingering thoughts away. “I wouldn’t know. You could always ask Sebas to bring up some papers about it or generate some theories when you get the chance.”
“I probably will at some point… Maybe while I’m working.” She poked him in the bicep. “You’re still helping me with the mule, right?”
He bobbed his head, loose beard hairs itching up his chin. “Sure am. Gimme a bit to shave and test the fifty-cal ammo, then I’ll be free to assist.”
“Kay Kay.” The tradeswoman smiled and returned to the sink, washing her face.
- - - - -
“What the hell did you do to your shield?” a stunned Harrison asked the paladin, his face scrunching up in concern… and confusion.
Sharky proudly held up her once grungy orange shield with a smile, looking at its new… paint job? “Artificer Tracy has s—n to imbue my bulwark with the crest of the Sky Goddess herself! Observe the b—utiful wings that cover it!”
The engineer had just got back from setting up and overseeing the automated mule’s first excursion to the mine and back. It was a grueling task, requiring him to reset its pathing several times before it was able to make a round trip without input. Now, the maroon-skinned Malkrin in front of him had apparently gotten her massive aegis laser imprinted with crossing wings in the two hours or so he’d been gone. The areas between the black feather decals were colored with white and blue paints, contrasting with the new dark gray background.
A small weight was placed on his shoulder, Tracy’s forearm suddenly appearing atop it despite her being nearly a foot shorter than him. She beamed, staring up at him with all-too-proud eyes. “The scout regiment symbol looks good on it, right? Cera helped me with the laser engraving.”
“I…” His brows raised in perplexity. “The scout regiment?”
She shrugged, watching the paladin observe her shield from all sorts of different angles underneath the workshop’s light fixtures. “From an anime I used to watch. Men and women who were sent out to battle against massive titans for the greater good of the last settlement of humanity. Somewhat fitting, and fuckin’ awesome on her big-ass shield! Matches the bird’s wings on her armor too.”
He loudly sighed. “You wasted materials on imprinting wings on Shar’s shield? Really?”
“Hey!” Her brows furrowed into faux-annoyance, a smug grin betraying it. “It’s not a waste if you were never gonna use the paint we had on hand. Plus, we’ve got energy to spare with all the wind turbines and power cells you’ve been printing out.”
“Those paints probably could have been used for important designations… or something…” he grumbled.
“Doesn’t matter.” She stuck her tongue out at him. “Anyway, want me to put some scary teeth or something on that big ‘ol fist-sized muzzle break on your shotgun?”
“No?” he took an incredulous step away from her, letting her arm fall off his shoulder and to her side.
“It’s okay to admit you’re jealous of Shar’s awesome decals, bro,” Tracy teased, her smugness growing tenfold. “No need to get defensive.”
He groaned, figuring there wasn’t a point in staying to bicker with the tradeswoman, leaving the two vanity-focused females to their devices. He still had to figure out how to fabricate armor and gas masks for the Malkrin and himself.
“Hey! Where ya goin?” the technician called out, clearly disappointed that he hadn’t indulged in her taunts.
“Work.”
Short taps against the hard floor sounded out as she caught up to him. She leaned forward and curiously looked up at him as she walked, holding her hands behind the small of her back. “What kind? Can I help?”
“Just need to take some measurements and compare options. Right… Speaking of which.” He turned around and cupped his palms around his mouth. “Hey Shar! Get over here, I need your help!”
The addressed Malkrin perked up, snapping out of the small haze of admiring her new shield and happily making her way toward him. She stood at attention, her tail oscillating side to side. “What n—d do you have of me?”
“Just a quick task,” he briefed her, grabbing some measuring tape from his desk… that Tracy had decided was her new chair. He sighed and turned his attention back to the paladin. “Can I bother you to lean down for a few seconds while I take some measurements?”
“Of course. Pl—se, take your time.” She stepped forward and kneeled, her head brought down to his height. Her face wore that simple content look he was growing all too accustomed to by now—slightly vibrating frills, a little curl upward of her lips, and warmly glowing eyes.
He wasted no time getting to work, noting down the various distances around her jaws, snout, eyes, and ears, already piecing together how he could cobble together some gas mask designs to fit the dimensions. She sat there quietly, sometimes leaning into the accidental head scratches adorably. It contrasted heavily with the cold-sweat-inducing layers of razor-sharp teeth within her muzzle as he measured the angle her maw opened at, bringing an idle curiosity prodded his mind.
“Say, Shar, do your teeth grow back if they fall out?” he poked, absently observing the dozens of triangular bone protrusions in her mouth as he held the underside of her jaw.
“They do,” she confirmed, the way she was able to speak despite not moving her mouth still messing with his head. “Do y—rs not?”
“Nope. Only once.”
She attempted to tilt her head, but quickly returned it when it left the embrace of his palm. “Only once?”
He nodded. “Yeah, sometime a few years after birth. They’re replaced with the teeth I have now. Don’t get any new ones, so we gotta take care of ‘em.”
“Birth?” The Malkrin’s eyes widened. “You were not cr—ted as you are now?”
A shock of stress poured down his spine like a bucket of ice water, raising the hairs on his back. Fuck. How did he let that slip? He was supposed to have just appeared from the sky to her, right…? He was doing so well for so long in keeping that in. God, had he really gotten so comfortable with the paladin that he simply forgot what he was to her? His teeth clenched, a huff of air escaping his nostrils as he lightly shook his head. It was a bit too late to backtrack. It could be explained vaguely and brushed off, right?
“Yeah. I was born,” he affirmed flatly. His hand dropped away from Shar’s muzzle, her head falling an inch or two before she registered that she couldn’t keep leaning into his touch. “That’s it for measurements, so you’re free to leave.”
A frown carved through her small smile. “I… See… F—give me if I have brought up someth—g improper.”
His exhalation burned through his frustration at himself, his hand running through his hair to wash away the spike of anxiety. “You’re fine. You haven’t done anything wrong.”
“Th-Then I shall take my leave,” the massive alien stated softly.
He nodded, feeling a little regretful for pushing the kindhearted Malkrin away as he shuffled back to his desk. Tracy was still sitting atop it, giving him a disappointed reaction with low brows, forcing a pointed reaction from him. “What?”
The technician took a long inhale before shrugging. “Nothin’.”
“…Alright.”
The rolling chair squeaked lightly as he rested himself, his hands already going through the motions of opening the computer and the blueprint folders. There were plenty of tabs open of sensors and motor assemblies he hadn’t closed from the previous night. That wasn’t even mentioning the pile of notes he had on proper radio-protective methods, their corners bent from his frequent flipping through them.
“Soooo…” The short black-haired woman leaned forward from her perch atop the only clear part of his desk. “Can I help you with your ‘comparing options’ work, mister busyman?”
“Sure…” He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, raising a brow. “How much do you know about armor?”
- - - - -
“No way. The back support is a must, so you can have extra plating over your shoulders and chest.” Tracy pointed out from her seat beside Harrison’s, all but forcing him to pause his Malkrin gas mask designing to give her argument his full attention.
He calmly took his hands off the mouse and keyboard. “A back support needs leg assistants, which means I’ll need to have at least a fifteen pound battery pack somewhere. Those kinds of exosuits are either all in or not at all. You can go full armor and engine, or lightweight protection and simple limb support.”
“So you’re just gonna go out there with normal armor? Just run-of-the-mill plates and gear? Those fucking things would go through that shit like butter! I know we can’t make synthetic muscle yet, but at least consider wearing something a bit more. Please. Even Sharky has heavy armor!”
Harrison pinched the bridge of his nose, his brows furrowed. “Do I look like a several-hundred kilogram monster of pure muscle to you? I’m more than willing to put on a few extra kilos for protection, but I’m trying to weigh the pros and cons of putting on more armor rather than more equipment. I’d rather fifty pounds of magazines and ammo than fifty pounds of armor. You know what I mean?”
“Yeah yeah… You and your storage space…” she mumbled, swiping through a few more images on her data pad when a familiar Mars-pattern suit showed up, catching his eye.
“Hey, wait, pull that one up…”
She rotated the tablet for him to see a little better—despite already being shoulder-to-shoulder with him. “This one? What’s so special about it?”
He analyzed the few pieces of equipment on screen, noting the rusty-orange and tan color scheme, the old Martian-American flag attached to its breastplate, and the iconic quad-nod integrated helmet. “Holy shit,” he whispered. “That’s… We have that in our blueprints?”
She raised a brow, clearly confused. “Whaddya mean?”
“That’s an Orbital Drop Ranger’s standard kit,” he stated slowly, a simmering sense of awe bubbling up—why the hell was it in their blueprints folder? “It was used during the Sino-Venusian incursion of southern Mars. It still has the Old Earth American flag embedded into it, so you know it’s pre twenty-two-hundred C.E.”
“Oh shit… Pre-St.Loual’s construction? This is ancient, then, huh? Would it be any good?” She leaned in closer to him, eying the tablet further.
“Does it have the assembly view of the armored pieces?”
“Mmhmm.” She tapped a few icons, showing an isometric, exploded view of all the parts and their individual components.
It was a piece of history alright. The armor was produced just about the time when Mars was connecting their orbital stations and ground colonies to work in tandem, allowing for specialized forces to be trained in space and launched anywhere across the planet from drop pods in mere minutes, leading to common nickname of ‘Minutemen’ given to the troopers. The suits were expertly designed to withstand the harsh environments of Mars and give the soldiers the ability to engage with enemy combatants for several days before extraction, though the adept units usually completed their objectives within twenty-four hours of their landing.
The helmet was very angular and blended in with the expected rocky terrain of Mars, each component taking on a sloped frontal design with rectangular prisms flowing behind—radio, breathing apparatus, and vision modules all sharing a sleek, yet bulky look in their own right. It reminded him of some in-atmosphere ships, with the overhanging visor above the quad-nod viewport being the only non-aerodynamic pieces.
The chest and legs were a bit different, following the design of late twenty-second-century operators with tan lightweight rigs, and ammunition pouches alongside armored plates that ran from the shoulders to wrists in segments. There was a rusty-orange undersuit beneath it all for the purpose of keeping air in, which required some sturdy polymer structures to ensure it didn’t rip. Then, of course, there were the classic shock-absorbing leg supports. They weren’t too far off what Tracy was asking about earlier, but these ones didn’t provide any assistance in moving with any motors—just straight-up structural reinforcements.
Hell, the blueprints on screen even had the mag-grip gloves used to scale domes, buildings, and satellites alike. There was no doubt that the Orbital Drop Rangers had some of the coolest equipment on Mars, especially considering that it was the last to keep the ‘operator’ look… It was such a shame the government decided the orb-like helmets and rounded bubble armors were more effective.
“Hey, you know what?” he asked the technician, a shot of excitement in his voice. “This might actually work out as a suitable armor replacement.”
She perked up, her brows raised. “Oh? Actually?”
He shrugged, trying to play off the smirk plastered on his face. “Wouldn’t need a horrible amount of changes to work for our purposes. Just need to remove the oxygen converter on the back and put a gas mask replacement in the front portion of the helmet. Plus, we could probably get rid of the airtight aspect and just keep the undersuit for scratch protection. And, most importantly, it’s radio-protective.”
“Meets all your criteria, then?” She tapped through some UI interfaces, sending the armor assembly to Harrison’s monitor, which he accepted quickly.
“Sure does.” He readily clicked through the different parts and systems to differentiate what needed to be kept. “We have the resources for it, and all it needs is a layer of cadmium plus a few replacements. Definitely doesn’t need the heads-up display since there’s nothing for it to interact with either, so that’ll save on print time and materials too. Shame I cut up the beard… the Orbital Drop Rangers were allowed to have some cool ones.”
The tradeswoman scooted in even closer, practically resting her chin on his shoulder and watching him sift through the working parts. “Yeah, rest in peace, beard. Still, your armor situation is solved. What about the Malkrin?”
“I’ll be working on their gas masks, then I was thinking I’d use another one of your modeled armors for their protection since they’ve helped Shar a hell of a lot. Do you have any recommendations?”
“Mmmmm…” She looked up in thought, a smile forming along her cheeks. “You know, until we can make them any real power armor, I was thinking just some regular phobos-pattern armor. Could color ‘em based on their skin too.”
“Phobos-pattern armor?” he hummed to himself, clicking through the folder to find it. It was just as bulky as Shar’s armor, except it appeared a good bit smoother, with more rounded edges compared to her horns-and-spike-lined gauntlets and pauldrons. The blue suit Tracy was proposing didn’t have the four-armed protection compared to the chaos version, but it certainly had the same thickness of its metal plates. “Looks like it’d work pretty well. Does it have any electric components or anything?”
“No…” she huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. “Not so good with designing that stuff in the modeling program I did the WarHarberd stuff in. Could add in more sophisticated leg support or whatever if you gave me time, but for now it’s just maneuverable slabs of alloy.”
“I think that’s all we need for the time being.” He shrugged. “I just don’t want the others to be vulnerable to getting cut up by the little spider-crab grunts.”
“As long as it works for what we need, then.” Her elbow poked into his arm. “Here, how about I take care of that armor stuff while you finish up the gas masks? They need the extra arm slots too, yeah?”
“I’d actually appreciate that a lot.” He offered her a back-palm fist bump, to which she eagerly took, taking on a grin that he mirrored. “Thanks, Trace.”
“Don’t mention it. I wish work was always just doing my hobbies like this.”
\= = = = =
A grand pylon of metal construction taller than the mightiest female’s frills stood atop the beach. Blue-scaled surfaces extended near the foot of the tower, gathering the power of the sun itself. The lattice layering upon their sides hid the weaving wires and Goddess-blessed machinery. A staff the same as Shar’khee’s peeked from its top, the glass eye on its side given a wide view of the sandy environment it resided on, the defense it now provided becoming absolute. The aura it exuded as a creature of pure metal was awe-inspiring, its mere presence a showing of Harrison’s might and domain.
No abhorrent would dare step foot upon the meadow’s rolling hills, for such a mistake would ensure their immediate execution for encroaching upon his settlement—the ‘fifty-cal-e-bur’ bullet is not one to rend any beast with only simple injuries, especially with three hundred of them available at once.
The maroon-skinned paladin treaded up the hill, having completed her task of setting up the last turret. The craftsman, the juvenile, and the lumberjack had also assisted with its setup, pulling their weight in both mind and muscles to piece the components together. They completed a few others around the modules already, but this one was done without the star-sents’ oversight. The four Malkrin had practiced and learned enough to be entrusted with such.
The idea of Harrison having enough confidence in them sparked much conviction in the group, each of them more than eager to prove him right—none more so than Shar’khee herself, of course.
She finally returned to the workshop, the sun’s last rays pressing into the back of her head and frills as she crouched beneath the doorway, a small gnawing hunger for dinner digging within her stomach. The cacophony of machines soon reached her ears, the sounds of their efforts almost working in tandem with the strange melodic music playing from an unseen source above her.
Tracy was in her corner, working on new beings of metal as always. The bright lights above were turned off in favor of smaller, warmer emplacements atop her surrounding circle of desks. A hard worker, that star-sent was, though both of them were like that, the paladin supposed. Their kind was certainly intent on keeping their hands busy.
Shar’khee passed through the snakes of machines, finding her way to Harrison’s desk with an increasingly strong sway in her tail. He was working with a black object with light gray accents. It appeared to be partially flexible, yet firm in other places—notably, a large glass fixture on one side of it. There was very little she could make out about its purpose, but with the delicate touches he applied, it appeared to be quite important.
Her tongue clicked twice, garnering the attention of the Creator. He paused his work, swiveling his chair to face her and revealing a long blue-leaf jutting from his mouth. Her male appeared quite tired, but his voice did not show it.
“Oh, Shar, what’s up? Did y’all need any help with the last turret?”
She shook her head. “We do not n—d such, for it is completed. Would you care to join me for din—r? The rest of the settlem—t is enjoying their meals as of now. ”
He raised his brows before looking back at the myriad of notes, tools, and materials atop his cluttered desk. “Well, I’m kinda busy, but…” His jaw rolled around in contemplation. “Here. Let’s just test this thing real quick.”
Her head tilted. “What sh—l we be testing?”
“Your gas mask… er, well, a Malkrin gas mask. Kneel down real quick, I’ll run ya through putting it on.” He stepped off his chair and grabbed the equipment, uncomfortably rotating his shoulders. How long was he sitting on that chair? The male approached her and she did as requested. “I had the sewist help me with some of the design. Never considered you guys would ever wear hats.”
She nodded. “It is unh—lthy for one to have their frills touched by the sun for so long. Adequate shade is a must, and trees are not so p—valent along farm land.”
“Mmhmm. Shame this is just a mask… Alright, this might be a bit uncomfortable, but it’ll do the job.”
He stepped forward and slipped the black apparel onto her snout, pushing it over her face until it pressed against the sides of her head. A cool material rubbed against her skin, locking her into its embrace. It was encapsulating, surrounding her wholly.
Her breaths strengthened as she allowed the mask to cover her, a short shock of nervousness riding down her spine. She was only now registering how vulnerable she was, allowing him to possibly suffocate her… but she stayed put, keeping her four palms rested within her lap as he continued to apply the straps around her ears. She would allow it. She trusted him with her life. She would not falter.
The cords around the back of her head were tight, a few of which went along both sides of her frills, pushing up against their sides. He kept going, ensuring a ‘seal,’ but it was getting much too—
Pop.
A lightning bolt of pain rolled throughout the top of her head, sending her reeling. It stung for the briefest of moments, but its effects rebounded through her entire body, short sparks pulsing from its origin. She felt nothing but its agonizing hold for several more moments as the rest of her body caught up.
When her eyes opened once more, she found herself on the floor and staring at the ceiling. The star-sent rushed to her side, appearing to ask many questions while looking over her head, but all she heard was a piercing ring and the gruff vocalization he made whenever he shared his intent. No words reached her mind, only the now faint phantom pains from where her frills met her skull. It put everything in a haze, her eyes barely settling on her dearest’s, despite how nauseous she had become.
His deft hands quickly worked to loosen the straps, practically ripping them off until his voice suddenly reached her, like breaching the surface of the water. His voice was deep, attempting to be calculating, yet despite his calmly created stoic demeanor… she could feel his panic, his sheer worry almost flooding her senses through practiced medical queries. She slowly sat up on the floor, holding herself with two arms while the other pair quelled the kneeling male, assuring him that she was alright with their weight resting atop his shoulders.
“I am well, dearest Harrison. Do not fret for me. The straps were simply too tight.”
His anxious breaths barely slowed, narrowly allowing for his exclamation. “Too tight? Shar, you practically blacked out!”
“Too tight upon my frills, I mean. There was a pain there for a few moments, but it has passed,” she returned calmly, softly kneading his stiff shoulders with the joints of her digits.
He exhaled sharply, matching her gaze with regret in his eyes. “I’m so sorry, Shar. I should’ve known. I was just trying to see how…” He paused, resting his palm atop her forearm. “Nevermind. I just… Are you alright? Should I get you to the med bay for a quick scan?”
“I do not believe that to be necessary, no.”
His guard finally fell. “If… If you say so. Guess I have to redo the straps then. Definitely gotta make sure they’re not pressing on your frills like that.”
She smiled, appreciating his dedication. “Would you like my assistance?”
“As long as you don’t have anything else to do.” He shrugged, his shoulders barely moving upward against her massaging hands.
“There is no greater wish of mine than to be by your side,” she stated warmly.
He was frozen, the soft ministrations of his digits along her arm slowly stopping in contrast to the red flush growing from his cheeks to his ears. The crack of a smirk on his face finally with a short, heart-warming chuckle brought the statue back to life after a few moments. “You know… that’s probably the sweetest thing I’ve heard for years.”
Her brows raised in subtle surprise at his response. “It… was not intended to be such… However… you are more than welcome. You must understand by now that I am speaking only the truth.”
The two of them sat there in relative silence amongst the desks and machines; her half laying on the ground with her hands on his shoulder, and him on his knees by her side, a singular hand running up and down her comparatively large forearm. She felt… weak, in a way. A vibrating sensation rummaged through her stomach, attempting to pull her muscles and nerves astray.
It was warm, just like his palm, each motion of his hand sending lightning through her skin. The upward curl of her lips into her cheeks was suddenly an insurmountable force, incapable of being put down by a thousand females. There was a tear within her to either look away or… close the distance, and she suddenly found looking anywhere but his curious green eyes to be a waste of her time.
Her talons wrapped further around his shoulders and his back, ever so slightly bringing him into her embrace—
“A-HEM.” A voice cut the moment down to its knees. “The fuck happened here?” Tracy’s swift interjection caused the paladin to flinch backwards, allowing her to see that Harrison’s other hand had been hovering right beneath her snout. The female star-sent wore a furrowed brow and crossed arms, looking down at them. “I heard a crash and came over. Are you two alright?”
Harrison cleared his throat, ever-so-subtly scooting away from the paladin. “Uh, yeah. Shar fell because, um, I tied the gas mask a lil’ too tight.”
The artificer wore an expression that told of her disbelief. “She fell because of the gas mask?”
“It was something with her frills.” The male returned with a shrug, picking himself off the floor before offering the paladin a hand up.
She took it, despite not requiring it, and wiped off some loose dust from her pants. The three of them quickly returned to work soon after, with both her and the black-haired star-sent joining Harrison in his quest to produce the gas mask. She was much less… What did the Creator call it? Bubbly? Yes, that was it. She was much less bubbly than usual, sometimes sending a cold yet emotionless glare toward Shar’khee… Nevertheless, the two females offered input on the design and applied help where they could, eventually creating the final piece of equipment.
Tracy commented on its looks, apparently drawing inspiration from the Leviathan itself, as she believed it to be like that of a ‘Sea Dragon’s.’ The maw-covering portion held two cylindrical canisters on the adjacent sides, the bottom portion being capable of distention, so that the user’s mouth may open somewhat. Its motion created what the female star-sent believed to be ‘the coolest teeth design on a mask’ she’d ever seen with how the separation formed alternating triangles.
The monster-like appearance was furthered by her own frills and horns that peeked out from behind the mask. That was not even mentioning the see-through visor that formed a malicious glare of sharp brows. The paladin looked through a hand-held mirror, finding it difficult to disagree with the look. She could imagine the horror on a fisherwoman’s face as such a terrifying creature approached from the depths.
And yet, despite its nightmarish visage, it was apparel designed to save lives, not take them—much unlike the unassuming metal rods that spewed fire with a mere flick of a lever. Curious indeed. The star-sents were seemingly never out of surprises. They even spoke of grand robots and firearms larger than Shar’khee herself as possible future projects.
Only time could tell what machinations of alloy would be birthed from their hands.
- - - - -
[First] [Previous] [Next]
Next time on Total Drama Anomaly Island - Under The Milky Way

First: https://www.reddit.com/HFY/comments/14vo5lb/troublemakers_deaths_pity/
*previous:* https://www.reddit.com/HFY/comments/1d3yvie/troublemakers_parabellum/
......
Go'mon stormed through the castle corridors. He'd sensed something slip beside him during his encounter with the vampire lord. It wasn't just that damned top hat with the thief's prints. No, it was more subtle than that, it was the sound of a gossamer chain rattling against cloth. He scanned every square inch of the hallways as he walked, slowly twirling the Warhammer in his off-hand as he calmly held the pistol muzzle-up towards the ceiling. He'd barely gotten a glimpse of what almost looked like mist as he stomped through the grand halls with paranoia-fueled, seething anger. Abruptly turning a corner he fired the revolver at what he thought was that pesky invisible parasite.
The shimmer shuddered and he switched to the visible spectrum to find out it was just a tapestry in front of a heating vent.
Go'mon let out an enraged scream, tearing the tapestry apart with his bare hands after casting his weapons aside in a fit of rage and impotence. The visage of Monarch D'vinn looking out from the top of a bombed-out hill in battered armor at the shattered remains of the once human-occupied city, being shredded like single-ply latrine paper by go'mon's molecularly edged cybernetic claws. Having spent his rage on the tapestry, he panted dramatically as his heart pounded in its cask. Turning around he let out another furious scream, howling madly as he scanned the hall with thermals. His Hammer and revolver had disappeared without a trace.
The sudden blare of a Klaxon made him pause as he adjusted his armor, forcing himself to calm down as he examined his molecularly edged claws. The main enemy was at the gates, he should go meet them.
...
Cassius' Heart pounded as he took shallow breaths, Go'mon's backplate inches from his own chest as he held onto the Hammer and Pistol for dear life. As the general strutted outside, Cassius moved in perfect synchronization, his left leg rising with the general's before being placed down in sync. He'd been practicing for weeks with the security droids at the mansion, practicing to keep inches from their backs without touching their metal carapace. Now he strutted behind perhaps the second most powerful being he knew like a silent specter. As Go'mon slammed through a door, breaking it into splinters, Cassius lifted his right leg and rotated out of the way just as Go'mon's tail would've brushed against his Calf, giving him away. As the General strutted out into the middle of the courtyard, Cassius used the various straps attached to his gambeson to affix the weapons to his waist before grabbing his Kama and weighted chain from a small pouch at his belt.
Cassius tossed the weighted end of the chain over the wall of the castle after a short run-up, wrapping the gossamer chain around his hands with each rapid step he took up the wall. Reaching the top, he unhooked the weight from the small bar he'd tossed it around quickly disentangling his hands from the chain. He groped the air on the outside of the wall until he touched the enchanted ladder the Top-Hats had left him. Sliding down the ladder, he spotted Drake sitting astride Barney in the middle of the street. The rest were nowhere to be seen but that indeed was part of the plan. Sprinting over, Cassius leaped onto Barney behind Drake and slipped Go'mon's revolver into the empty holster at his belt. Drawing out no reaction save for a few words from Drake, who didn't turn his head lest he give the gambit away.
"Good work Cassius, Fall back and get a gas mask on. We still don't know what's in those canisters because they inked out the labels."
Cassius slipped off of Barney's back and slipped into a nearby building before De-cloaking as he pressed himself against the wall next to a Warmonger who passed him a spare gas mask. He pulled it on and checked the seal before sitting against the wall as his legs jellied beneath him. His mouth was dryer than the scrubland as he accepted a Volunteer's canteen, drinking heavily through a port in the mask as he rode out the adrenaline crash. He glanced over to where their fighters had pried open a sewer access hatch and were dropping in, the smell of sewage souring the air. A few warmongers closest to the opening had comically attached wooden clothesline clips to their noses.
...
Caz lay atop the second-tallest building in Golgatha, trash and debris piled up around her for camouflage ash she drew a bead on the strutting Go'mon. Her god-given eyes were able to see the purple miasma that rose from him like mercury vapors. She didn't even turn her head as she softly asked.
"Distance?"
The man with Heavy cybernetic augmentations pulled casually from a large pouch of grain alcohol, camera-lense eyes extending from his face as he chewed on a bullet thoughtfully. Slowly he stated.
"One thousand five hundred and sixty-seven meters, If you're keeping it under auto-ignition velocity, you should be able to hold it one mil above and..."
The sound of the bullet in his mouth getting chewed filled the air before he stated.
"Two mils right, wind fluctuates between us and the target, expect a half minute of angle deviation."
Caz adjusted her optic, bringing the point of aim directly onto her crosshairs. The man next to her had called himself "an Olympian" an old sect of bionically enhanced warriors from even before the betrayal wars. In the small amount of time she'd gotten to know the man, she'd found him palatable at the very least, soft-spoken with a touch of crazy, it was refreshing. She tried to ignore the artillery-sized rifle he laid behind, the barrel itself bigger around than a drainage pipe, a suppressor of equally massive size almost protruding over the edge of the building. She watched from the corner of his eye as he pulled the breech open to the side and selected a shell thicker and longer than her forearm with a fused tip. He rammed it into the gun with the same ease she loaded her flechettes with.
They both had different jobs despite sitting on the same roof. She'd take care of anything on two legs, and he'd handle anything that had an armored skin. From her vantage point, she watched as the Agri-bots moved into position, planting their artillery pieces against the ground in preparation to fire. They weren't using High explosives much to Remin and Destrier's chagrin, but with their attack plan, they couldn't risk collapsing the sewers. They were instead armed with a chemical weapon known as "CS Smoke" which would obscure visual sightlines for anyone with unaugmented vision. Lucky for her and the Olympian, that wouldn't be an issue with her clear-sight and his advanced optics. She slowly swiveled her focus onto Drake, keeping the center of the crosshair off him as she watched him.
Sitting astride Barney, Drake looked every bit the warrior he was. His dark helmet and armor were almost lost in the dark night. But the red shock of his Helm's mohawk could not be mistaken, glowing brightly against the darkness. As his palm came to rest on the pommel of his sword, she saw something entirely different for a moment.
A warrior in battered, rusty armor, the flesh falling from his bones as a pair of white lights gleamed behind the helmet. A skeletal hand held a rusty sword in its sheath, Its pale, emaciated steed's head hanging low, milky eyes soulless and empty.
But as soon as she saw it, the image faded and she swiveled her crosshairs onto the castle's inner courtyard. A small, dim red light blinked on the side of the Olympian's skull as the Geknosians organized into fighting lines. Hulking Geknosians in overbuilt power armor manned emplaced turrets and the looming Gas generators. A small feed from the Olympian's perspective overlaid itself on her scope before minimizing to one corner. She watched as his crosshair fell onto one of the two Gallicks. The horseshoe-shaped APCs presenting their bulk to the gate as a bulwark. Caz switched her aim to a heavily armored Geknosian, slowly dialing the small wheel on the forend of her rifle to half-power, just under auto-ignition velocity. The geknosian seemed to get uncomfortable as her crosshairs landed on his chest, fidgeting at the controls of their AA plasma Beam-cannon.
The moment the Agri-bots fired their artillery, she'd remove him from the gene pool and take that AA gun out of the fight so Destrier could get into position.
...
Destrier and Remin ran last-minute checks on the small fleet of two-wheeled land vehicles the Top Hats had called "Dirt bikes." The variable electric powerplant produced little to no noise, even now, powered on and ready to roll they didn't even humm. Stepping back, Destrier let the forearms of his power armor clamshell close as he retook the hand controls. Contrary to popular belief, the hands of power armor weren't at all like gloves. A handle with a pressure sensor for each finger was clasped in his hands, allowing him to manipulate the hands of the armor like his own. Destrier turned his head, helmet whirring on its bearing as he watched Remin mount one of the Dirtbikes, the black scimitar strapped to the suspension of the bike within arm's reach. The old man's Mongolian lamellar draped over either side of the bike like fabric, small metal plates clinking and clattering softly as he pulled his fabric-wrapped helmet back on. Destrier clomped over, hardly noticing the backpack with over two hundred rounds of 13x110 mm HEP.
Remin looked up with a grin and met Destrier's arm halfway in a forearm-gripping handshake, their metal hands clanking together as they slid their arms back into a grip around the base of each other's thumbs, then to a normal handshake before waggling their fingers at each other.
Destrier chuckled softly and looked up at the sky, night vision lenses making it appear stuffed to bursting with stars.
"What's on the black samurai's mind?"
Remin asked softly, head tilted back to also look at the stars between the rooftops.
"Well... I'm looking forward to the fighting to finally being over... Maybe I'll finally be able to settle down and invent something with Martha..."
Remin chuckled softly.
"A noble goal... I'd expect nothing less from you Destri... I'm actually hoping to catch a ride back to human-controlled space. I'm too old for this shit, I want to settle down and live out the last years of my life in peace..."
Destrier nodded in agreement, slowly turning his gaze back to the helicopter, blades slowly turning in preparation for takeoff.
"How old are you Remin? I don't think I ever asked."
The old man paused, thinking for a long time.
"Oh... I'd say I've made it past a century at this point. Got a cybernetic heart when I was a kid thanks to a car accident, Ol' things been keeping me going far past when I shoulda dropped."
Destrier nods and laughs softly.
"Damn, and I thought you were only in your fifties."
Remin laughed in agreeance, setting his hands on the handlebars.
"I don't blame ya, I feel like it. Especially now that my legs aren't filled with creaky arthritis."
Destrier sighed softly, gently punching the old man's shoulder as softly as he could in his power armor.
"See you on the other side old man... whether that be the living side or the dead one."
"Here's to hoping it's the former not the latter."
Destrier chuckled his agreement and boarded the helicopter, making the landing gear compress slightly as he put his weight on the flight deck. Unhooking the feed chain from the side of the backpack, he clipped it into the Ma-deuce's feed chute. It whirred as the heavy cartridges were funneled down the chain and into the gun with a click and a clatter.
...
Barney shifted from one leg to the other beneath Drake, Death's chosen reaching down and gently patting his neck fondly as he softly whispered.
"Just a moment longer boy... There's someone I need to talk to."
Drake closed his eyes, letting the Darkness envelop him for a moment before opening them again.
He looked at Death, who was casually swirling a glass of black bourbon thoughtfully.
"You said you wanted to talk to me right before the battle?"
Death nodded and slid the glass of black bourbon his way.
"I did, I want you to drink this before you go into battle."
Drake picked up the glass, inspecting the pitch-black, inky liquid curiously. Before sniffing it and coughing as his eyes water.
"No offense, But I think something died in your liquor bottle."
Death laughed jovially, pouring his own glass from a red crystal decanter.
"That's because this is made from the blood of my predecessor. I thought i might as well get it out of the way."
Drake suspiciously looked at the glass.
"Okay, what happens when I drink it?"
Death paused, slowly swirling his own glass of black bourbon pensively. Then, he slowly knocked his own back, eyes dilating wide before returning to normal.
"Well, It should allow you to control your power, bypassing the decades of training most need."
Drake gave Death a side eye, sniffing the foul drink one more time asking.
"What's the catch?"
Death frowned, then set his glass down.
"Considering that it's going to completely restructure your magical and circulatory pathways. It's going to hurt like nothing you've ever felt before. It also may or may not bind your guardians to your soul."
Drake's head snapped up.
"Guardians... you mean my parents?"
Death nodded softly.
"Guardians, souls that loved someone so much that they remained on after death to watch over them. Your parents loved you... loved you enough to stand by your side even in death... and before you give me some bullshit about this not being what your parents would want... Remember, they'll always be at your side until you die one way or another."
Drake slowly swirled the bourbon before nodding softly, bringing it to his lips, he downed it in a single gulp. It burned on its way down, the tingling feeling intensely spreading throughout his body and to his fingertips in a moment. His nerves burned, and his very being felt as though it was being scalded by burning hot water. But as he set the glass down on Death's desk, he smiled softly. There was a warmth to the pain, like a cold rag against a feverish forehead. The sting of a garlic poultice applied to a fresh whip-wound. It was the crack of his father's wooden sword against his knuckles during their sparring, the sweat that would drip into his eyes on long evenings working the fields. Drake opened his eyes slowly, no longer sitting in Death's office, but his own soulscape, looking at the long-neglected buildings halfway through construction. But he wasn't alone.
Drake smiled at his mother and father. His mother gave him a soft smile as she touched the scar across his face, the wound in his cheek where a gauss slug had torn it open, then, she took his hand to gently touch the scarred wound where Garravan's knife had pierced his hand. His father just sat cross-legged, drinking a stout mug of scrub tree tea with a proud smile on his face. drake looked between them before holding out his hands.
As his parents took them, they dissolved into motes of light that drifted into his chest. His veins burned, and his eyes and nose bled. His entire existence felt like a blistering inferno as the ground of his soulscape rumbled, small, red flowers the color of blood and the shape of gunshot wounds popping up from the ground. But even as the pain grew, and grew, and grew, He found himself simply laughing, grabbing what felt like an invisible pair of chains and pulling up on them as he stood.
The ground erupted in the middle of his soulscape, a massive, gnarled oak tree sprouting from the ground. Its sturdy trunk protecting a small patch of pink carnations interspersed with curly-petaled white Gardenias. Drake felt something form atop his head and reached up, feeling a thorny crown, he gently pulled it off, looking at the black-petaled roses fondly before returning it to his head. The thorny veins grew down from the crown, snaking their way deep into his flesh only to bloom into what felt like new muscles and tendons that weren't attached to his physical strength. Looking at his upturned palms, he curled his fingers, a steady, smokeless pale flame popping into existence in his palm with next to no effort.
As the pain subsided, Drake closed his eyes, relishing its departure before opening them to the shocked and concerned face of Death. Drake gave him a curious look and Death coughed softly as he composed himself before speaking.
"Look, I know I can hide pain well... But that smile you get when you're hurting is capital C Creepy."
Drake touched his grinning face with a soft laugh, wiping a trickle of blood from his nose.
"Well, guess I can add that to my achievements list, Creeping Death out with a smile."
They both chuckled softly at the joke before Death sighed softly.
"You should get back to them, they're almost ready."
Drake nodded and stood, stepping over to the door.
"Wish me luck."
"Good luck, my Champion. Give them hell."
Drake smiled softly and stepped out the door. When he opened his eyes, he was back in the real world, staring up at Go'mon who'd perched himself atop the castle wall, eyeing Drake hungrily.
Giving Go'mon his signature grin, He reached up and depressed a countersunk button on the side of his helmet.
"Hit 'em"
Drake stated, the sound of artillery rocking the city as Go'mon's hungry look quickly turned to rage. There was a loud, screeching whistle as the artillery shells streaked in, blanketing the area in stinging fog. Drake drew his sword, extending thorned vines of power into it as the blade ignited with pale flames. Barney snuffled excitedly and roared as Drake nudged him forward, the Dinosaur leaping over the wall in a single bound. The final battle for Golgatha had begun, after this, they would either be free...
Or they will have died free.
......
Part 112: will be linked here upon completion.

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This ‘allegedly’ True Mysterious Haunted Home story was written & emailed to me. It will also be available on my YouTube and TikTok channels tomorrow for viewing if you wish to watch it in storytelling/video format. You may not use this story. Please do not ask me. Thank you. Enjoy. 💀

 The Basement Boogie Man Story by Bryan M. 

I was home alone one night playing video games in my living room when I heard noises coming from downstairs in the basement.
My parents went out for the night with some of their friends for dinner and I had the entire house to myself. And it felt refreshing to finally have some alone time and play video games on our big screen Plasma TV.
We had a 50 inch Pioneer High definition Plasma and I remember being so excited about playing Halo 2 all night on this thing online with my friends.
After playing for an hour, I thought I heard and felt movement coming from down below me in the basement.
I muted my headphones and listened out but heard nothing. So I continued playing…
Two hours went by when I heard and felt the same movement below me again, so I muted my headset once more and listened a little closer. This time it was louder and it felt like something actually hit the basement ceiling below me.
I told my friends to hang on a second then I walked to the entrance door leading to the basement.
There’s also a side door entrance that leads to the basement from outside of my house, which is about 7 steps down from the hallway entrance door that leads to the basement, and it was open.
Not much. But enough to seem as if someone let themselves in and didn’t shut it all the way.
I slowly walked down the steps and shut the side door and locked it. I was seriously freaked out and scared. I mean, there was no one home except me. And I lived in a good neighborhood. Nothing bad ever happened around here.
Curiosity got the better of me so I figured I'd check out the basement. I flicked the lights on and everything seemed fine just as it should be.
But we have a storage room tucked away at the end of the basement hall, and I couldn't resist making sure everything was in order in there too.
I literally tip-toed towards the storage room and I could feel my heart racing.
I grabbed my trusty old aluminum baseball bat I had stashed beside our mountain bikes and gripped onto that thing ready to swing for the bleachers if anyone came charging out of that storage room.
As I moved closer to the storage room door I could feel my hands beginning to get clammy. And what felt like an hour was only a few minutes when I stopped and just stared at the door.
The fear and sheer anxiety was holding me back from opening that door.
But I had to find out what made those noises.
I reached for the door knob and turned it and pushed the door open with my bat. And as soon the door was half way open, someone kicked the door shut and growled at me like an animal.
I fell on my ass but got right back up and never ran so fast in my life. I ran and tripped up the basement steps but made it back safely into my house, locked the door, and told my friends I had an intruder in the basement and that I had to call the cops.
I dropped my headset and I could hear my friends voices saying “what the fuck and holy shit are you serious?” as I ran to grab my cell phone to dial 911.
While I’m on the phone with the 911 operator, I could hear pounding on the basement ceiling coming from down below me. I shouted to the 911 operator that someone broke into my house and was in my basement storage room.
The operator was asking me question after question, but I was so frightened I couldn’t answer any of them and just kept telling her to please send help because there’s someone in my basement.
“Someone broke into my house, please help!”
She told me to calm down and find a place to hide and told me help was on the way.
So I hid in my bedroom closet…
My breath was bouncing off of the telephone and hitting me back in the face from how fast I was breathing.
The operator asked me for my name again and now I told her. She asked me my age, where my parents were and I told her. She asked if anyone else was in the house besides me and I said “no it’s just me.”
She asked me if there was any way she could get in touch with my parents so I gave her both of their cell numbers. She told me not to hang up and to stay on the phone with her no matter what. She told me I was doing fine and that everything would be fine, that there were 2 police units heading to my house and they would be there any second.
And then the pounding on the basement ceiling started up again!
And this time the pounding was so loud it sounded like a demolition team was rearranging my entire basement!
The operator asked me what was going on and if I was okay? She asked me “what was that noise?
And I told her whoever is downstairs is banging on the basement ceiling and won’t stop. She told me to hold tight and that the police had arrived and were outside in front of my house. She asked me if there was any way the police could enter my house without breaking down any doors.
I told her I didn’t want to leave the closet. I told her I was very scared and that I didn’t want to go anywhere.
She told me not to worry as the banging from the basement was somehow now coming from underneath my bedroom closet.
I shouted “Please help me! The banging is underneath me!
And then I heard my side door getting kicked in from the police. I ran out of my closet and ran to the back door and heard the police yelling out commands as they walked down the basement steps.
The banging kept increasing as they shouted “make yourself known.
The operator told me to stay put so that’s what l did as the police continued giving out commands without getting any answers from anyone.
I heard a door getting kicked in assuming it was the storage room door, but then I heard them say to each other “there’s no one here it’s all clear.”
The cops searched the entire house and found no one.
It couldn’t be possible…
I kept telling them that there had to have been someone here. That someone had to have been in my basement. I told them that the side door was slightly open like someone came in and forgot to shut it but that we always kept that side door locked. That I opened the storage room door and someone kicked the door shut and then growled at me. That there was banging on the basement ceiling.
They tried using the excuse of me being a kid with an over amplified imagination.
So what the fuck was all that banging that I heard? The cops heard it. The operator heard it.
This couldn’t have been playing out in everyone’s imaginations.
The police took down notes of what I heard and saw and then my parents got home. And right before my parents walked through the now broken side door, the cops were laughing with each other and one of them even said “maybe his house is haunted?”
Well, if that was the case, then, why didn’t anything ever happen again?
I was 17 years old when that crazy night happened. And I lived at my parents house until I was 23 before getting my own place. I’m going on 37 and nothing ever happened again at my parents house.
Believe me, I’ve asked them…
And even stayed there some nights throughout the years on the weekends waiting for something to happen again.
They’re going on vacation next month for their 40th wedding anniversary.
And I’ve given this a lot of thought. Many years and nights of endless thought.
So much so that it kind of consumed me.
My friends that were playing Halo with me that night? They heard everything through their headsets and we’ve talked about this for a long time together, too.
Next month when my parents leave, we plan on doing a Oujia board session in the basement storage room.
I need to know if that house is really haunted or not…
💀
Hope you enjoyed this creepy ‘allegedly’ True, Mysterious Haunted House Story. Again, please don’t ask me to use this. It is for reading and viewing (if you wish on my YouTube channel tomorrow night) purposes only. Thanks you for understanding. If you have your own creepy True story you’d like told in video format, let me know. Every story I create I turn into a single Horror Short. So, you’ll have your own video to watch the Horror unfold. Long, Short. It doesn’t matter. As long as it can be up to 8 minutes long in video.
Thanks again. Stay Sinister.
👻

There was pounding on the basement ceiling!
This ‘allegedly’ True Mysterious Haunted Home story was written & emailed to me. You may not use this story. Please do not ask me. Thank you. Enjoy. 💀

 The Basement Boogie Man Story by Bryan M. 

I was home alone one night playing video games in my living room when I heard noises coming from downstairs in the basement.
My parents went out for the night with some of their friends for dinner and I had the entire house to myself. And it felt refreshing to finally have some alone time and play video games on our big screen Plasma TV.
We had a 50 inch Pioneer High definition Plasma and I remember being so excited about playing Halo 2 all night on this thing online with my friends.
After playing for an hour, I thought I heard and felt movement coming from down below me in the basement.
I muted my headphones and listened out but heard nothing. So I continued playing…
Two hours went by when I heard and felt the same movement below me again, so I muted my headset once more and listened a little closer. This time it was louder and it felt like something actually hit the basement ceiling below me.
I told my friends to hang on a second then I walked to the entrance door leading to the basement.
There’s also a side door entrance that leads to the basement from outside of my house, which is about 7 steps down from the hallway entrance door that leads to the basement, and it was open.
Not much. But enough to seem as if someone let themselves in and didn’t shut it all the way.
I slowly walked down the steps and shut the side door and locked it. I was seriously freaked out and scared. I mean, there was no one home except me. And I lived in a good neighborhood. Nothing bad ever happened around here.
Curiosity got the better of me so I figured I'd check out the basement. I flicked the lights on and everything seemed fine just as it should be.
But we have a storage room tucked away at the end of the basement hall, and I couldn't resist making sure everything was in order in there too.
I literally tip-toed towards the storage room and I could feel my heart racing.
I grabbed my trusty old aluminum baseball bat I had stashed beside our mountain bikes and gripped onto that thing ready to swing for the bleachers if anyone came charging out of that storage room.
As I moved closer to the storage room door I could feel my hands beginning to get clammy. And what felt like an hour was only a few minutes when I stopped and just stared at the door.
The fear and sheer anxiety was holding me back from opening that door.
But I had to find out what made those noises.
I reached for the door knob and turned it and pushed the door open with my bat. And as soon the door was half way open, someone kicked the door shut and growled at me like an animal.
I fell on my ass but got right back up and never ran so fast in my life. I ran and tripped up the basement steps but made it back safely into my house, locked the door, and told my friends I had an intruder in the basement and that I had to call the cops.
I dropped my headset and I could hear my friends voices saying “what the fuck and holy shit are you serious?” as I ran to grab my cell phone to dial 911.
While I’m on the phone with the 911 operator, I could hear pounding on the basement ceiling coming from down below me. I shouted to the 911 operator that someone broke into my house and was in my basement storage room.
The operator was asking me question after question, but I was so frightened I couldn’t answer any of them and just kept telling her to please send help because there’s someone in my basement.
“Someone broke into my house, please help!”
She told me to calm down and find a place to hide and told me help was on the way.
So I hid in my bedroom closet…
My breath was bouncing off of the telephone and hitting me back in the face from how fast I was breathing.
The operator asked me for my name again and now I told her. She asked me my age, where my parents were and I told her. She asked if anyone else was in the house besides me and I said “no it’s just me.”
She asked me if there was any way she could get in touch with my parents so I gave her both of their cell numbers. She told me not to hang up and to stay on the phone with her no matter what. She told me I was doing fine and that everything would be fine, that there were 2 police units heading to my house and they would be there any second.
And then the pounding on the basement ceiling started up again!
And this time the pounding was so loud it sounded like a demolition team was rearranging my entire basement!
The operator asked me what was going on and if I was okay? She asked me “what was that noise?
And I told her whoever is downstairs is banging on the basement ceiling and won’t stop. She told me to hold tight and that the police had arrived and were outside in front of my house. She asked me if there was any way the police could enter my house without breaking down any doors.
I told her I didn’t want to leave the closet. I told her I was very scared and that I didn’t want to go anywhere.
She told me not to worry as the banging from the basement was somehow now coming from underneath my bedroom closet.
I shouted “Please help me! The banging is underneath me!
And then I heard my side door getting kicked in from the police. I ran out of my closet and ran to the back door and heard the police yelling out commands as they walked down the basement steps.
The banging kept increasing as they shouted “make yourself known.
The operator told me to stay put so that’s what l did as the police continued giving out commands without getting any answers from anyone.
I heard a door getting kicked in assuming it was the storage room door, but then I heard them say to each other “there’s no one here it’s all clear.”
The cops searched the entire house and found no one.
It couldn’t be possible…
I kept telling them that there had to have been someone here. That someone had to have been in my basement. I told them that the side door was slightly open like someone came in and forgot to shut it but that we always kept that side door locked. That I opened the storage room door and someone kicked the door shut and then growled at me. That there was banging on the basement ceiling.
They tried using the excuse of me being a kid with an over amplified imagination.
So what the fuck was all that banging that I heard? The cops heard it. The operator heard it.
This couldn’t have been playing out in everyone’s imaginations.
The police took down notes of what I heard and saw and then my parents got home. And right before my parents walked through the now broken side door, the cops were laughing with each other and one of them even said “maybe his house is haunted?”
Well, if that was the case, then, why didn’t anything ever happen again?
I was 17 years old when that crazy night happened. And I lived at my parents house until I was 23 before getting my own place. I’m going on 37 and nothing ever happened again at my parents house.
Believe me, I’ve asked them…
And even stayed there some nights throughout the years on the weekends waiting for something to happen again.
They’re going on vacation next month for their 40th wedding anniversary.
And I’ve given this a lot of thought. Many years and nights of endless thought.
So much so that it kind of consumed me.
My friends that were playing Halo with me that night? They heard everything through their headsets and we’ve talked about this for a long time together, too.
Next month when my parents leave, we plan on doing a Oujia board session in the basement storage room.
I need to know if that house is really haunted or not…
💀
Hope you enjoyed this creepy ‘allegedly’ True, Mysterious Haunted House Story. Again, please don’t ask me to use this. It is for reading purposes only. Thanks you for understanding. If you have your own creepy True story you’d like told in video format, let me know. Every story I create I turn into a single Horror Short. So, you’ll have your own video to watch the Horror unfold. Long, Short. It doesn’t matter. As long as it can be up to 8 minutes long in video.
Thanks again. Stay Sinister.
👻

im making this post on a throwaway account to avoid any family input or what have you. i want to start off by saying the dog i mention in this post has been close to me and my partner since my mother brought him home about 2 years ago and the reason for this is simply because we have been taking care of and raising him like he was ours since she got him because all she wanted him for was so that she could look cute with him on social media (where she basically lives digitally). about a year after she got him problems had arised in the household mainly because of me, i had just got back to her house after spending 2021 back in my hometown three hours from where we lived after she kicked me out of her house for questioning her on account of a current gf i had at the time (who did start the issue and waited until my mom kicked me out to come clean). it was fine with me i took that on the chin because at the end of the day i was wrong for coming at my mom for assuming she didnt like my partner bc she was white. fast forward a year later about early 2022. and we talk about our bond and she says i can come back and get myself together because she knew i was in a fucked up situation financially where i was staying. i come back to her house in 2022 and she had told me before i even came back that she just wanted me to focus on myself and not worry about her bills. i wasnt eager to go with this decision but it was smart considering i was basically starting from scratch with life in general. got a job not too long after i got back and met my current partner (we'll call her beck). beck is white while me and my family are black and trust me this information is important. beck comes into the picture and we hang out more and she starts coming over some days hanging out in my room and i went to her house twice because her mother kept the place in shitty conditions and basically tried to downplay her own daughter right in front of me both times. i could tell beck had issues with being home and she too was in the process of getting her life together without even saying any of this. so i knew being with me in my room at my moms house was her only escape. mom for random reasons started having issues with beck cleaning the house for her while she was at work or taking care of the dog in a way my mother didnt approve. then it graduated to beck "stealing" money from her but her never having the proof or the funds to back it up to begin with. my mothers partner at the time of like 8 or 9 years who we'll call randy was cool as hell but somehow never managed to avoid fighting with her verbally. this went on the whole time i was there and randy ended up leaving and they broke up. problem was randy left right around the time i started fumbling with my jobs and needing to look around. now i wanna say im no saint, i spent my time searching for jobs AND gaming bc im a gamer. problem was i was taking too long this time around and theres no excuse. she started turning the heat on me and my partner once randy left and i started getting fed up because she was now asking for rent money while belittling me and my partner for being "laid up in her house". again, fair point. so my next step was realizing whether i had a job or not this woman was a firestarter no matter what you had going on. getting up early morning to say little slick comments in the morning because she wanted to get a reaction. by this point me and my partner are looking for a new place to live while we figure things out. my mother catches wind of this and starts asking when we'll take the dog after we get the place. now me knowing that she wont take proper care of him, i agree to take him with us and her response is "well hes not going anywhere until i see the house that yall move to. i wanna see everything to make sure its good for my baby"(the dog). i immediately got pissed and told her its not going down like that and that she needs to start considering how she speaks to people mainly me because im not gonna keep dealng with it. she got offended and kicked me and my partner AND THE DOG out of the room mid convo bc she didnt like what i said. me and my partner go back to my room and close the door to which she comes out saying "disrespectful little motherfucker talking to your mother like that" super loud. i let that one get to me and i mistakenly opened my door and started arguing. out of nowhere she hits me with "n***a fuck you" "you wont have to worry about me or the dog because NOW you AINT seeing him how about that" i said "thats fine hes not a bargaining chip". she went back to her room and slammed the door. didnt speak to me for like a week. my birthday comes around after this long week and she working the day of. i didnt expect her to say shit bc i know my mother and shes that petty. what i didnt expect was for her to hop on social media and wish early happy birthdays to two family members that werent me. ok fine thats cool. she gets home that same day and asks my partner if sai(the dog) has been out. my partner says "no we couldnt take him because his leash and collar are in the room and you locked the door. she had been locking the door ever since she started blaming beck for stealing from her. so once she realized the dog hadnt been out because she locked the door, she tells beck to "ask him if he'll take him out" by this point ive been told im not shit and im not needed and the first thing u say to me on my birthday is "can you take him out" i said no. rage ensued as she slammed the bathroom door on her way out of it. this time she kept walking passed my door talking more shit. more of the usual "i gave you life and you treat me like this" i told her to get away from the door with the nonsense and she started a full argument and said we had to go tomorrow. tomorrow rolls around and we wait for her to go to work so we can leave in peace. she normally got home around 9pm but on this day here she comes strolling in at 2pm right in the middle of packing. paces in front of our door talking shit and this time beck responds saying "we're leaving you need to let us be". this woman then told my partner she was going to beat her ass. i immediately shut that down too because i never seen my mother get tough with anybody. and here she is getting tough with the one person who hates confrontation. after i told her she wasnt even that type of person she replies with i'll stab both of yall in yall sleep. said weird stuff like "thats right i forgot i cant throw pussy on you and call you sexy like her im just the mother you dont have to respect". beck calls me sexy every day. its our little corny but cute word between us. anyway after 30 more minutes of bullshit arguing we leave for becks moms house which fucking sucked until my brother offered me a job in California working with him and my dad. throughout the 5 or 6 months of me being there i was making good money and even tho my mom was fucked up to me, i sent her funds when i could. my father found out i was sending funds to my mom AND my sisters (his daughters with other women) and the fuckhead accused me of using him then when i told him save it for after work(we worked the same construction site) the motherfucker sat there next to me and argued with himself bc i started ignoring the "i feel like your playing with me" comments because i told him "im a grown ass man and we are at work. you are not to question me about shit because you wont get an answer you like. i help my family out because its my money. simple" he then grabbed my shirt yelling "who are you talking to" snatched his hand off and he gets in my face saying "DONT FUCKIN TOUCH ME" so i replied calm "dont touch me at all. thats the last free one your gonna get" dude looks around the lot at a crowd and says "you wanna fight or something? yall wouldnt be working here without me" i couldnt help but laugh in his face for trying to cause scene for an audience and went home. packed me and my partner up, came back to new york where im from. stayed with my mom for a month before me and my partner rushed and got into the place we have now. problem was now that we had our own space, my mom pushed sai off on us and dude practically lived with us. barely went home.fast forward to like 2 weeks ago. by this point we have our two cat boys cosmo and dexter. they are babies. 4months and some change to be exact. we tried introducing sai to the boys multiple times a day and he kept jumping at them or scaring them. the only option was to let sai sleep in the living room. we kept my mother in the loop with him because by law, hes "her dog". she started her little comments over text to beck immediately "if yall plan on mistreating my baby he dont have to be there" then told beck "im venting if you mention this to my son im gonna cuss you tf out" we let that one slide because now i was building my evidence so when i bugged tf out, i wasnt wrong. next day some old dude on our block got aggressive with beck for walking sai "on his block" she called me to come handle it and i get there and back him off. by this point im pissed. beck calls my mother to tell her sai gotta go home this week hes been with us since we got our place. mother catches a attitude and i again let it go. two days later beck has a goofy moment and brings sai in the room seconds after her, the boys and i just got up. dexter pops sai on the nose for getting too close. beck moves asai then scrunches dex to put him in time out. i got annoyed when she scrunched my furry boy. told her dont do that shit again even tho it supposedly doesn't hurt them, i dont like seeing it especially when it all happened because she was doing too much too early. she had a moment and told my mom he has to go "because your son is getting annoyed". mother responds "he can come today he'll be fine at home by himself. hes favoring those cats over his brother (sai). i immediately got pissed at both of them. called my mother and told her hes going home and hes not coming back because im tired of the comments of neglect when i actively tried to introduce him to the boys with no progress. i mean FUCK i kept the boys stuck in the room in their own home so your dog can fuck our living room and kitchen up. i then got on beck for being a firestarter to which she argued me on. then i told her the relationship was on the verge of being done because your not gonna be sitting around me starting shit. i didnt let up until she realized how petty she was being and how at risk we were because of it. my mother then argued me down telling me im dumb. and then she basically skipped over the fact she didnt reach out to her son to see what happened before coming at me in a side convo with beck. beck brought the convo to my attention which was wat initially set me off but i made sure to get on her ass instigating an issue where there was none. mom then called beck a white trash stealing dirty bitch. we told her to come get her dog. i cut contact soon as she left. a day later i find out she called the women on her side of the family and fabricated the whole story i didnt bother clearing it up or giving her that satisfaction of a response. then 2 days ago she called my phone and i let it ring. haven't spoken since. AITAH here? genuine question

This ‘allegedly’ True Mysterious Haunted Home story was written & emailed to me. It will also be available on my YouTube and TikTok channels tomorrow for viewing if you wish to watch it in storytelling/video format. You may not use this story. Please do not ask me. Thank you. Enjoy. 💀

 The Basement Boogie Man Story by Bryan M. 

I was home alone one night playing video games in my living room when I heard noises coming from downstairs in the basement.
My parents went out for the night with some of their friends for dinner and I had the entire house to myself. And it felt refreshing to finally have some alone time and play video games on our big screen Plasma TV.
We had a 50 inch Pioneer High definition Plasma and I remember being so excited about playing Halo 2 all night on this thing online with my friends.
After playing for an hour, I thought I heard and felt movement coming from down below me in the basement.
I muted my headphones and listened out but heard nothing. So I continued playing…
Two hours went by when I heard and felt the same movement below me again, so I muted my headset once more and listened a little closer. This time it was louder and it felt like something actually hit the basement ceiling below me.
I told my friends to hang on a second then I walked to the entrance door leading to the basement.
There’s also a side door entrance that leads to the basement from outside of my house, which is about 7 steps down from the hallway entrance door that leads to the basement, and it was open.
Not much. But enough to seem as if someone let themselves in and didn’t shut it all the way.
I slowly walked down the steps and shut the side door and locked it. I was seriously freaked out and scared. I mean, there was no one home except me. And I lived in a good neighborhood. Nothing bad ever happened around here.
Curiosity got the better of me so I figured I'd check out the basement. I flicked the lights on and everything seemed fine just as it should be.
But we have a storage room tucked away at the end of the basement hall, and I couldn't resist making sure everything was in order in there too.
I literally tip-toed towards the storage room and I could feel my heart racing.
I grabbed my trusty old aluminum baseball bat I had stashed beside our mountain bikes and gripped onto that thing ready to swing for the bleachers if anyone came charging out of that storage room.
As I moved closer to the storage room door I could feel my hands beginning to get clammy. And what felt like an hour was only a few minutes when I stopped and just stared at the door.
The fear and sheer anxiety was holding me back from opening that door.
But I had to find out what made those noises.
I reached for the door knob and turned it and pushed the door open with my bat. And as soon the door was half way open, someone kicked the door shut and growled at me like an animal.
I fell on my ass but got right back up and never ran so fast in my life. I ran and tripped up the basement steps but made it back safely into my house, locked the door, and told my friends I had an intruder in the basement and that I had to call the cops.
I dropped my headset and I could hear my friends voices saying “what the fuck and holy shit are you serious?” as I ran to grab my cell phone to dial 911.
While I’m on the phone with the 911 operator, I could hear pounding on the basement ceiling coming from down below me. I shouted to the 911 operator that someone broke into my house and was in my basement storage room.
The operator was asking me question after question, but I was so frightened I couldn’t answer any of them and just kept telling her to please send help because there’s someone in my basement.
“Someone broke into my house, please help!”
She told me to calm down and find a place to hide and told me help was on the way.
So I hid in my bedroom closet…
My breath was bouncing off of the telephone and hitting me back in the face from how fast I was breathing.
The operator asked me for my name again and now I told her. She asked me my age, where my parents were and I told her. She asked if anyone else was in the house besides me and I said “no it’s just me.”
She asked me if there was any way she could get in touch with my parents so I gave her both of their cell numbers. She told me not to hang up and to stay on the phone with her no matter what. She told me I was doing fine and that everything would be fine, that there were 2 police units heading to my house and they would be there any second.
And then the pounding on the basement ceiling started up again!
And this time the pounding was so loud it sounded like a demolition team was rearranging my entire basement!
The operator asked me what was going on and if I was okay? She asked me “what was that noise?
And I told her whoever is downstairs is banging on the basement ceiling and won’t stop. She told me to hold tight and that the police had arrived and were outside in front of my house. She asked me if there was any way the police could enter my house without breaking down any doors.
I told her I didn’t want to leave the closet. I told her I was very scared and that I didn’t want to go anywhere.
She told me not to worry as the banging from the basement was somehow now coming from underneath my bedroom closet.
I shouted “Please help me! The banging is underneath me!
And then I heard my side door getting kicked in from the police. I ran out of my closet and ran to the back door and heard the police yelling out commands as they walked down the basement steps.
The banging kept increasing as they shouted “make yourself known.
The operator told me to stay put so that’s what l did as the police continued giving out commands without getting any answers from anyone.
I heard a door getting kicked in assuming it was the storage room door, but then I heard them say to each other “there’s no one here it’s all clear.”
The cops searched the entire house and found no one.
It couldn’t be possible…
I kept telling them that there had to have been someone here. That someone had to have been in my basement. I told them that the side door was slightly open like someone came in and forgot to shut it but that we always kept that side door locked. That I opened the storage room door and someone kicked the door shut and then growled at me. That there was banging on the basement ceiling.
They tried using the excuse of me being a kid with an over amplified imagination.
So what the fuck was all that banging that I heard? The cops heard it. The operator heard it.
This couldn’t have been playing out in everyone’s imaginations.
The police took down notes of what I heard and saw and then my parents got home. And right before my parents walked through the now broken side door, the cops were laughing with each other and one of them even said “maybe his house is haunted?”
Well, if that was the case, then, why didn’t anything ever happen again?
I was 17 years old when that crazy night happened. And I lived at my parents house until I was 23 before getting my own place. I’m going on 37 and nothing ever happened again at my parents house.
Believe me, I’ve asked them…
And even stayed there some nights throughout the years on the weekends waiting for something to happen again.
They’re going on vacation next month for their 40th wedding anniversary.
And I’ve given this a lot of thought. Many years and nights of endless thought.
So much so that it kind of consumed me.
My friends that were playing Halo with me that night? They heard everything through their headsets and we’ve talked about this for a long time together, too.
Next month when my parents leave, we plan on doing a Oujia board session in the basement storage room.
I need to know if that house is really haunted or not…
💀
Hope you enjoyed this creepy ‘allegedly’ True, Mysterious Haunted House Story. Again, please don’t ask me to use this. It is for reading and viewing (if you wish on my YouTube channel tomorrow night) purposes only. Thanks you for understanding. If you have your own creepy True story you’d like told in video format, let me know. Every story I create I turn into a single Horror Short. So, you’ll have your own video to watch the Horror unfold. Long, Short. It doesn’t matter. As long as it can be up to 8 minutes long in video.
Thanks again. Stay Sinister.
👻

This ‘allegedly’ True Mysterious Haunted Home story was written & emailed to me. It will also be available on my YouTube and TikTok channels tomorrow for viewing if you wish to watch it in storytelling/video format. You may not use this story. Please do not ask me. Thank you. Enjoy. 💀

 The Basement Boogie Man Story by Bryan M. 

I was home alone one night playing video games in my living room when I heard noises coming from downstairs in the basement.
My parents went out for the night with some of their friends for dinner and I had the entire house to myself. And it felt refreshing to finally have some alone time and play video games on our big screen Plasma TV.
We had a 50 inch Pioneer High definition Plasma and I remember being so excited about playing Halo 2 all night on this thing online with my friends.
After playing for an hour, I thought I heard and felt movement coming from down below me in the basement.
I muted my headphones and listened out but heard nothing. So I continued playing…
Two hours went by when I heard and felt the same movement below me again, so I muted my headset once more and listened a little closer. This time it was louder and it felt like something actually hit the basement ceiling below me.
I told my friends to hang on a second then I walked to the entrance door leading to the basement.
There’s also a side door entrance that leads to the basement from outside of my house, which is about 7 steps down from the hallway entrance door that leads to the basement, and it was open.
Not much. But enough to seem as if someone let themselves in and didn’t shut it all the way.
I slowly walked down the steps and shut the side door and locked it. I was seriously freaked out and scared. I mean, there was no one home except me. And I lived in a good neighborhood. Nothing bad ever happened around here.
Curiosity got the better of me so I figured I'd check out the basement. I flicked the lights on and everything seemed fine just as it should be.
But we have a storage room tucked away at the end of the basement hall, and I couldn't resist making sure everything was in order in there too.
I literally tip-toed towards the storage room and I could feel my heart racing.
I grabbed my trusty old aluminum baseball bat I had stashed beside our mountain bikes and gripped onto that thing ready to swing for the bleachers if anyone came charging out of that storage room.
As I moved closer to the storage room door I could feel my hands beginning to get clammy. And what felt like an hour was only a few minutes when I stopped and just stared at the door.
The fear and sheer anxiety was holding me back from opening that door.
But I had to find out what made those noises.
I reached for the door knob and turned it and pushed the door open with my bat. And as soon the door was half way open, someone kicked the door shut and growled at me like an animal.
I fell on my ass but got right back up and never ran so fast in my life. I ran and tripped up the basement steps but made it back safely into my house, locked the door, and told my friends I had an intruder in the basement and that I had to call the cops.
I dropped my headset and I could hear my friends voices saying “what the fuck and holy shit are you serious?” as I ran to grab my cell phone to dial 911.
While I’m on the phone with the 911 operator, I could hear pounding on the basement ceiling coming from down below me. I shouted to the 911 operator that someone broke into my house and was in my basement storage room.
The operator was asking me question after question, but I was so frightened I couldn’t answer any of them and just kept telling her to please send help because there’s someone in my basement.
“Someone broke into my house, please help!”
She told me to calm down and find a place to hide and told me help was on the way.
So I hid in my bedroom closet…
My breath was bouncing off of the telephone and hitting me back in the face from how fast I was breathing.
The operator asked me for my name again and now I told her. She asked me my age, where my parents were and I told her. She asked if anyone else was in the house besides me and I said “no it’s just me.”
She asked me if there was any way she could get in touch with my parents so I gave her both of their cell numbers. She told me not to hang up and to stay on the phone with her no matter what. She told me I was doing fine and that everything would be fine, that there were 2 police units heading to my house and they would be there any second.
And then the pounding on the basement ceiling started up again!
And this time the pounding was so loud it sounded like a demolition team was rearranging my entire basement!
The operator asked me what was going on and if I was okay? She asked me “what was that noise?
And I told her whoever is downstairs is banging on the basement ceiling and won’t stop. She told me to hold tight and that the police had arrived and were outside in front of my house. She asked me if there was any way the police could enter my house without breaking down any doors.
I told her I didn’t want to leave the closet. I told her I was very scared and that I didn’t want to go anywhere.
She told me not to worry as the banging from the basement was somehow now coming from underneath my bedroom closet.
I shouted “Please help me! The banging is underneath me!
And then I heard my side door getting kicked in from the police. I ran out of my closet and ran to the back door and heard the police yelling out commands as they walked down the basement steps.
The banging kept increasing as they shouted “make yourself known.
The operator told me to stay put so that’s what l did as the police continued giving out commands without getting any answers from anyone.
I heard a door getting kicked in assuming it was the storage room door, but then I heard them say to each other “there’s no one here it’s all clear.”
The cops searched the entire house and found no one.
It couldn’t be possible…
I kept telling them that there had to have been someone here. That someone had to have been in my basement. I told them that the side door was slightly open like someone came in and forgot to shut it but that we always kept that side door locked. That I opened the storage room door and someone kicked the door shut and then growled at me. That there was banging on the basement ceiling.
They tried using the excuse of me being a kid with an over amplified imagination.
So what the fuck was all that banging that I heard? The cops heard it. The operator heard it.
This couldn’t have been playing out in everyone’s imaginations.
The police took down notes of what I heard and saw and then my parents got home. And right before my parents walked through the now broken side door, the cops were laughing with each other and one of them even said “maybe his house is haunted?”
Well, if that was the case, then, why didn’t anything ever happen again?
I was 17 years old when that crazy night happened. And I lived at my parents house until I was 23 before getting my own place. I’m going on 37 and nothing ever happened again at my parents house.
Believe me, I’ve asked them…
And even stayed there some nights throughout the years on the weekends waiting for something to happen again.
They’re going on vacation next month for their 40th wedding anniversary.
And I’ve given this a lot of thought. Many years and nights of endless thought.
So much so that it kind of consumed me.
My friends that were playing Halo with me that night? They heard everything through their headsets and we’ve talked about this for a long time together, too.
Next month when my parents leave, we plan on doing a Oujia board session in the basement storage room.
I need to know if that house is really haunted or not…
💀
Hope you enjoyed this creepy ‘allegedly’ True, Mysterious Haunted House Story. Again, please don’t ask me to use this. It is for reading and viewing (if you wish on my YouTube channel tomorrow night) purposes only. Thanks you for understanding. If you have your own creepy True story you’d like told in video format, let me know. Every story I create I turn into a single Horror Short. So, you’ll have your own video to watch the Horror unfold. Long, Short. It doesn’t matter. As long as it can be up to 8 minutes long in video.
Thanks again. Stay Sinister.
👻

This ‘allegedly’ True Mysterious Haunted Home story was written & emailed to me. It will also be available on my YouTube and TikTok channels tomorrow for viewing if you wish to watch it in storytelling/video format. You may not use this story. Please do not ask me. Thank you. Enjoy. 💀

 The Basement Boogie Man Story by Bryan M. 

I was home alone one night playing video games in my living room when I heard noises coming from downstairs in the basement.
My parents went out for the night with some of their friends for dinner and I had the entire house to myself. And it felt refreshing to finally have some alone time and play video games on our big screen Plasma TV.
We had a 50 inch Pioneer High definition Plasma and I remember being so excited about playing Halo 2 all night on this thing online with my friends.
After playing for an hour, I thought I heard and felt movement coming from down below me in the basement.
I muted my headphones and listened out but heard nothing. So I continued playing…
Two hours went by when I heard and felt the same movement below me again, so I muted my headset once more and listened a little closer. This time it was louder and it felt like something actually hit the basement ceiling below me.
I told my friends to hang on a second then I walked to the entrance door leading to the basement.
There’s also a side door entrance that leads to the basement from outside of my house, which is about 7 steps down from the hallway entrance door that leads to the basement, and it was open.
Not much. But enough to seem as if someone let themselves in and didn’t shut it all the way.
I slowly walked down the steps and shut the side door and locked it. I was seriously freaked out and scared. I mean, there was no one home except me. And I lived in a good neighborhood. Nothing bad ever happened around here.
Curiosity got the better of me so I figured I'd check out the basement. I flicked the lights on and everything seemed fine just as it should be.
But we have a storage room tucked away at the end of the basement hall, and I couldn't resist making sure everything was in order in there too.
I literally tip-toed towards the storage room and I could feel my heart racing.
I grabbed my trusty old aluminum baseball bat I had stashed beside our mountain bikes and gripped onto that thing ready to swing for the bleachers if anyone came charging out of that storage room.
As I moved closer to the storage room door I could feel my hands beginning to get clammy. And what felt like an hour was only a few minutes when I stopped and just stared at the door.
The fear and sheer anxiety was holding me back from opening that door.
But I had to find out what made those noises.
I reached for the door knob and turned it and pushed the door open with my bat. And as soon the door was half way open, someone kicked the door shut and growled at me like an animal.
I fell on my ass but got right back up and never ran so fast in my life. I ran and tripped up the basement steps but made it back safely into my house, locked the door, and told my friends I had an intruder in the basement and that I had to call the cops.
I dropped my headset and I could hear my friends voices saying “what the fuck and holy shit are you serious?” as I ran to grab my cell phone to dial 911.
While I’m on the phone with the 911 operator, I could hear pounding on the basement ceiling coming from down below me. I shouted to the 911 operator that someone broke into my house and was in my basement storage room.
The operator was asking me question after question, but I was so frightened I couldn’t answer any of them and just kept telling her to please send help because there’s someone in my basement.
“Someone broke into my house, please help!”
She told me to calm down and find a place to hide and told me help was on the way.
So I hid in my bedroom closet…
My breath was bouncing off of the telephone and hitting me back in the face from how fast I was breathing.
The operator asked me for my name again and now I told her. She asked me my age, where my parents were and I told her. She asked if anyone else was in the house besides me and I said “no it’s just me.”
She asked me if there was any way she could get in touch with my parents so I gave her both of their cell numbers. She told me not to hang up and to stay on the phone with her no matter what. She told me I was doing fine and that everything would be fine, that there were 2 police units heading to my house and they would be there any second.
And then the pounding on the basement ceiling started up again!
And this time the pounding was so loud it sounded like a demolition team was rearranging my entire basement!
The operator asked me what was going on and if I was okay? She asked me “what was that noise?
And I told her whoever is downstairs is banging on the basement ceiling and won’t stop. She told me to hold tight and that the police had arrived and were outside in front of my house. She asked me if there was any way the police could enter my house without breaking down any doors.
I told her I didn’t want to leave the closet. I told her I was very scared and that I didn’t want to go anywhere.
She told me not to worry as the banging from the basement was somehow now coming from underneath my bedroom closet.
I shouted “Please help me! The banging is underneath me!
And then I heard my side door getting kicked in from the police. I ran out of my closet and ran to the back door and heard the police yelling out commands as they walked down the basement steps.
The banging kept increasing as they shouted “make yourself known.
The operator told me to stay put so that’s what l did as the police continued giving out commands without getting any answers from anyone.
I heard a door getting kicked in assuming it was the storage room door, but then I heard them say to each other “there’s no one here it’s all clear.”
The cops searched the entire house and found no one.
It couldn’t be possible…
I kept telling them that there had to have been someone here. That someone had to have been in my basement. I told them that the side door was slightly open like someone came in and forgot to shut it but that we always kept that side door locked. That I opened the storage room door and someone kicked the door shut and then growled at me. That there was banging on the basement ceiling.
They tried using the excuse of me being a kid with an over amplified imagination.
So what the fuck was all that banging that I heard? The cops heard it. The operator heard it.
This couldn’t have been playing out in everyone’s imaginations.
The police took down notes of what I heard and saw and then my parents got home. And right before my parents walked through the now broken side door, the cops were laughing with each other and one of them even said “maybe his house is haunted?”
Well, if that was the case, then, why didn’t anything ever happen again?
I was 17 years old when that crazy night happened. And I lived at my parents house until I was 23 before getting my own place. I’m going on 37 and nothing ever happened again at my parents house.
Believe me, I’ve asked them…
And even stayed there some nights throughout the years on the weekends waiting for something to happen again.
They’re going on vacation next month for their 40th wedding anniversary.
And I’ve given this a lot of thought. Many years and nights of endless thought.
So much so that it kind of consumed me.
My friends that were playing Halo with me that night? They heard everything through their headsets and we’ve talked about this for a long time together, too.
Next month when my parents leave, we plan on doing a Oujia board session in the basement storage room.
I need to know if that house is really haunted or not…
💀
Hope you enjoyed this creepy ‘allegedly’ True, Mysterious Haunted House Story. Again, please don’t ask me to use this. It is for reading and viewing (if you wish on my YouTube channel tomorrow night) purposes only. Thanks you for understanding. If you have your own creepy True story you’d like told in video format, let me know. Every story I create I turn into a single Horror Short. So, you’ll have your own video to watch the Horror unfold. Long, Short. It doesn’t matter. As long as it can be up to 8 minutes long in video.
Thanks again. Stay Sinister.
👻

Age of Legends
Prologue(Death and birth of a dragon)

Rand was happy, there wasn’t much else he could say about how he felt right there at that specific moment. Lying there in bed wearing nothing but his small cloths and a silk shirt half buttoned. Beside him sleeping so peacefully was one of his beautiful wives, Elmindreada, though she hated that name and preferred Min. Thinking back on many long years of peace and growth, yes he was fated to break the world, and he had. Though the prophecies never mentioned the creation and growth he would also leave behind. The creation of the black tower and the worldwide acceptance of male Aes Sedai, his crown and epitome of success the cleansing of saiadin. That and the discovery of ancient knowledge to confirm anyone should be able to learn to touch at least a small part of the true source, at least most people could. Those two things alone would have vast and far-reaching consequences for the good. The covers beside him shifted as his wife turned over in her sleep showing him her short curly hair. Thoughts drifting again to convincing the Aeil and Tu’athan(the tinkers he thought fondly still) to make peace, them taking it a step further and settling in the two rivers. The tinkers, the wondering people and followers of the way of the leaf, coming to terms with the Aiel spear wielders and settling in one place, that one place being his boyhood homeland. Perrin was there, as well as all the Emond fielders, what’s more they set him up like some king and started calling the place Manetheren.
Mat even came back and settled down to retire with the remainder of his family after his wife the empress died. Rand frowned because that wasn’t a happy memory, her battle with some kind of internal growth that even the best healers couldn’t fix, it was slow and painful. She was tough and knew enough to put things in order so there wouldn’t be any war for succession, but after her death and with no children not adopted, Mat just had no pull to stay. He came back and Perrin gave him an estate where he spent the rest of his days carousing in taverns even if no one would play dice with him again. The rest of his days were not much however, less than two years after his wife Mattrim died of a heart attack. The same strange fox head medallion he wore around his neck that had saved him so many times from enemy power wielders, due to its powers of absorbing any of the one power used against the wearer, was strangely the main cause of his death as there had been an Aes Sedai capable of healing close by. Rand wondered what ever became of that medallion. Trying to shift his thoughts back to happier things he thought of Elayne another of his wives and queen of the region this new “kingdom” was growing. Or at least she was. Having not one but two kingdoms to run was taxing her, especially when one played that awful game of houses so much, as if it were breathing. She actually willingly gave that area to Perrin, that and more besides. “Having friends at your back, especially friends who know they owe you can only help.”, he remembered her saying when he asked her.
He laughed remembering how her cute golden-haired little face grew so stern while she rounded on him for not caring about his friends and shouldn’t they also get something for all the help they provided at the last battle. Of course, it also had nothing to do with being such close friends with Perrin’s wife Fail. Manetheren though, when asked Perrin just shrugged his huge shoulders saying one name is as good as any, and it was the one that everyone agreed on.
Min groaned softly beside him still wrapped in the silken bedding spread. His laugh seemed to have disturbed her, he quickly stifled it and glared at the lavish bedroom they slept in as if that were the fault for his mirth. Lying on top of the silken covers because he never quite got used to sleeping on feather mattresses. It really was a lavish bedroom, filled with rugs and wall coverings, paintings, not one but two large dressers with mirrors, a matching and equally large wardrobe, currently opened showing two other mirrors on the inside of the doors, smaller than the dresser mirrors, and a neat array of blouses and trousers with floral embroidery(Min’s things). Otherwise, there was also a washstand with another small mirror, a desk and one chair slightly askew and away from the desk. On the desk are several stacks of books, and an open notebook with a nearby quill and ink pot. There was a lone unlit lamp also on the desk gilded in gold, as well as several gold gilded wall lamps also unlit around the room.
Sighing softly as Min settled back to comfortable sleep, he stared back up at the bland whitewashed ceiling above him and thought about the schools he had patroned. So many new ideas and inventions were springing up and with traveling prevalent they all spread to the world almost as fast as the ideas can be thought up. This would hopefully lead to a golden age for the world, and his schools were even branching off on their own into new learning institutes. These alone seemed to keep the peace between all the nations. Rand couldn’t tell if he was trying to be modest or humble. Yes he patroned and started the first few schools, but it was not all him coming up with any of the ideas and inventions, many of which had become marvels in and of themselves. Transportation, communication, education These would be left behind and he would be known for that as well as the other.
Breaking the world to make it whole, and his victory with that world’s armies at the last battle. He fought the dark one while the armies of all the nations fought the shadowspawn and darkfriends and dreadlords. Despite everything against him, including it seemed sometimes even the creator, he not only won the battle, but he survived it, he survived it and had a nice long life. The world was at peace, headed to a golden age which he would get credit for, and so Rand was happy. His eyes closed and his thoughts grew that sort of muffled feeling they get just as they start turning into dreams.
PAIN! Rand knew pain, he was no stranger to hurts, especially from a half healed old wound in his side, but that was not the same thing right now. For some reason panic started rising up in him, this was something new, this was something worse. A sharp pain again, in his chest, his body wildly spasmed up kicking his sleeping wife awake.
“Ow you bloody tall buffoon, if you think you can kick me out of bed you have another thing …” Min trailed off as another spasm of pain racked through Rand. Her face contorting with fear as she watched him clutching his chest nearly double over with the pain spasm. He tried to tell her he would be alright, but all that came out was a groaning grunt. He tried lifting his hand to show her it would be alright, but he couldn’t get it to move. Suddenly a hand hit him in his face, it was his hand. He couldn’t feel his hand or his arm. Fear started creeping in as another spasm of pain caused him to let out another groan and clutch at his chest with this hand he couldn’t feel.
“Creator shine his light on me, of course you would choose to die when you’re with me.” Min started shouting hysterically. “For the love of light you bloody wool head, you hang on until I can get Aviendha to come heal you, she’s not far, just hold on damn you.”
Rand vaguely had an impression of Min running towards and out the door. Another spasm of pain, except somehow this was less. He knew it should hurt just as much, but it didn’t. He must have found the void so it wouldn’t hurt as much, that was it. Rand thought about his third and final wife Aviendha, how she would likely come in to find him as healthy as a bull and upset his stomachache disturbed her wise one’s practice. Stomachache? Wasn’t it his chest that was hurting him? Another very small spasm, yes its his chest, but he was also feeling decidedly nauseous too, and that was the greatest issue right? Sleep was all he needed, he would sleep, and everything would be fine in the morning, tomorrow he had to get up early to sheer the sheep.
The void completely surrounds and envelops Rand. As he fades away he hears a sinister voice in his head, “YOU WON THIS ROUND DRAGON REBORN BUT WE WILL COME FACE TO FACE AGAIN” The dark one, what, again? No, the dark one is dead, am I dead, wake up you light blinded fool. There was nothing but the void, not even the light of saiadin could be seen. Rand listened as hard as he could, he thought he heard something, something almost familiar. There it was again, soft but rhythmic, sounding not exactly far, but muffled as if listening through water. Thump Thump and it hit him, that’s the sound of a heartbeat, but who’s heartbeat his? Sleep, that’s what he needed, a really good nights sleep and he would feel better in the morning. Rand drifted off into a dreamless sleep listening to the heartbeat, Thump Thump.
Thus did the dragon reborn die after seeing the end of one age turned into the beginning of another. The people of the land wept at his passing, they swore they would remember him forever and always. Time however is not a kind mistress, when an age is gone it starts to fade from existence, times deeds even people change in the telling’s of the years and centuries. Eventually when the wheel goes round and gives birth to the age again all details have been forgotten, muffled, or contorted.

Mariann Jo’sheen Sedai was old. She had a proper last name once if she could just remember. It had been so long ago since she had last thought of it, a life in the white tower could do that, and Sedai was as good a last name as could be for formality. Just saying Mariann was old was an understatement though, being a woman with a stronger channeling ability, and having sworn on all 8 Life Oath Rods, a prerequisite to becoming Amyrlin of the tower, that she even has any grey hair showing means she must be well past 800 years old, and to show the amount of age she did it must be closer to past 900 years. She was still sharp in mind mostly, at least anything from the last 100 years or so she could recall as sharp as if it happened yesterday. Had it really been longer than a hundred years since she last though of her family name, having long lasted past the last of her lineage, her family long gone or married into others.
She thought even harder surly she had been at her last relative’s funeral, when was it, it was a great aunt she remembered, and the surname was …, she thought really hard. She was in the Amyrlin’s bedchamber reserved for the current leader of the white tower. That said like most of the past Amyrlins before her she kept the bedroom nice and simple. The single window held a cooling fan with right below it a heater coil. The other wall held a closed door which led into her bathroom, the next wall holding another door leading out of the bedchamber into the office of her role. The last wall held the only other furniture besides the plain brown four poster bed she was laying on. A white nightstand with built in mirror and matching white clothed chair. The bathroom was large and would hold her wardrobe of clothes along with the indoor plumbing necessities.
Mariann thought back to each of the eight oaths she took on the life rods, trying to remember which one she had last taken when she attended her aunt’s funeral. Small cylindrical devices no longer than her arm, when you take an oath on one your life actually increases by a standard lifetime or roughly 100 years depending on the person, those stronger in the one power given slightly more. Really giving any oath at all would do for the increasing your life, the only requirement being you channel Saiadar while making your oath and someone else that can also channel does so to activate it. However each specific Ajah required you to take a specific oath, and the eighth oath rod was solely for those like her who have taken the Amyrlin seat after having have pledged on the other seven, again a specific oath.
“I will say no word that is untrue”. Eight oath rods, and eight times this is spoken to ensure you do not offer a false oath, as if anyone would think of lying so many truth seekers everywhere.
“I will faithfully serve as Amyrlin to all of my children for the rest of my days”. The Amyrlin seat was a lifelong position and would not open again until her death. Serve all her children, it was said that the ancient honorific Amyrlin meant something like mother to all, it means that she was a servant to everyone in the world, matter it not she was the leader of the white tower. That first part about serving faithfully as Amyrlin could leave some wiggle room depending on how one viewed the title of Amyrlin, the last however left no wiggle room for anything.
“I will treat everyone with fairness and justice as is prescribed by the dai’shan aiel of the grey tower and the Aes Sedai code of ethics”. Those were binding stronger than time itself. The grey tower first because only the dai’shan aiel more than anyone can decide what is fair and right, they were and are the original truth seekers among so much more. You would also have as much power to reach the moon as you would to get the Aes Sedai code of ethics changed. First it would take a proposal from either of the leaders from the white or black tower. Either the Amyrlin of the white tower or the Pope of the black tower has to make a suggested change, which then needs to go through each Ajah/Faction and receive 90% approval, then it gets sent to the other tower to make its way up through the chains until it finally ends with the other towers leader. If it passes all of that it gets sent to the grey tower for approval again 90% before finally appearing before the first servant leader of the grey tower for final approval, and at any stage it can be stopped if it doesn’t pass.
That wasn’t it though, no she was not Amyrlin at her aunt’s funeral. Before then was the Blue ajah, which was closer. But still too recent, what level was she? The sleeping shift she wore was one of the new fads called a one piece. It was literally one garment that covered both legs and torso. It had several convenient buttons for keeping it on or taking it off. It was grey cotton all one solid color, and it was bunching up at the knees. Mariann distractedly Jerked it back into position. Her thoughts drifted too far back to when she had her very first foretelling which was that she would one day become Amyrlin seat. She was a young girl of only 16 years, and she knew without a doubt. It came in bursts though and it was not something she could control.
This vision came on stronger than any she had ever encountered before. So strong it jerked her body stiff as a board and slammed her down thankfully into the bed she was already laying on. An Evil shadow of a man, a giant taller than mountains, and blacker than the darkest shadows on a moonless night, peering down at the world smiling, that smile turning your blood to jelly and freezing you in place with its ill intent. A great serpentine beast came flying from the other side of the world, Long and scales glimmering like diamonds with talons made of pure gold but sharper than the sharpest knife, fire trailing from its partially open moth off its gleaming sharp teeth. It was equally large as the malevolent shadow man and flew on giant tornado causing wings straight at the other. They fought a great battle against each other, but in doing so caused so many deaths as swaths of their destruction ravaged the world. A flash of light and Mariann was staring at the grey tower as if just a few hundred yards away. She started walking towards it only to watch in horror and bewilderment as the tower before her cracked and collapsed as if a mirror or glass shattered. Another flash of light and she saw a baby boy, but he aged so fast right before her eyes until he died as an old man. She couldn’t remember much, but she knew deep down that he was in some way related to the other visions and this man, for it was definitely a man, was likely the cause of them.
Opening her eyes to stare at the brown four poster cloth above her and remembering every detail about her vision she distractedly spoke to herself . “Goshin is my sur name and I last heard it at Aunt Maragel Goshin’s funeral while I was at the green level”. She shook her head, that wasn’t important anymore if it ever really was. She quickly sat up in her woolen one piece swinging her feet over the side of the bed and hurried to her nightstand. Sitting in the chair she reached in one drawer to get paper and another to get an ink pointer. Channeling a single small strand of fire into a swinging glass bulb above her bed brought light into the room. She hastily started scribbling down every detail from her vision, she was grateful she always kept ink and paper nearby to do so.

Mr. Telamon was a nervous wreck while sitting in the hospital waiting room. He somehow knew, sensed something was wrong with his wife’s delivery. Dai’shan aiel were everywhere; as were nurses, patients or close kin waiting, Every once in a while a doctor’s assistant would come out and call a name ushering someone to see a doctor. Really bad cases would be taken in through a separate entrance known only to the healers. It didn’t matter, and he got confirmation as those doors opened up and not the assistant, but the doctor who had taken his wife looked around the room first at the dai’shan, then at him. A group of three of the white clad figures started moving towards him even before the doctor did. They felt his grief or rather the grief he was going to feel, even before he himself felt it. That and they knew it would take three of them to calm him down. Tears were streaming from his eyes before the doctor even started speaking.
“There was a complication during the pregnancy, your son is ok, your wife however did not make it, I’m so sorry. She did manage to tell us a name before she passed. Lews, Lews Therin after her father. Is that what you would like on the birth certificate?”
Baby Lews’s father numbly nodded, and the doctor walked away as uncontrollable sobs started emanating from the man. The three dai’shan aiel circled around him arm in arm and started singing a song of comfort and peace and mourning.
***
Rand Al’thor was asleep soundly when something woke him up, but he couldn’t tell what or where, or even anything for that matter. It was like the void, nothingness, but a sound, not a feeling, a heartbeat. The heartbeat was much faster than it was and suddenly something pushed him hard in the head. Go away he thought I’m trying to sleep. However the push came back stronger than before, this time managing to flip him upside down, upside down?, he could tell direction in this floating nothingness. Really awake now Rand tried to remember, remember?, remember what? Again the push and he was being squeezed to death and suddenly he remembered something about the dark one. A voice, a word, a sentence, the dark one wanted him dead. Was this the dark one trying to kill him, again push, again very tight squeeze, this time a light as if from a tunnel. It wasn’t the only light though, Rand went to the real void, and he saw it, Saiadin. He reached out with all his might to grab it and it came like a flood. He couldn’t control it, he had no strength, and his memory was foggy, he just expelled it to get out the other light and away from the pushing and death squeeze.
As Saiadin left him so did more and more memories, he tried to shout that he killed the dark one, sealed the bore so it could never be open. All that came out of his mouth was a scream. No blood and fire no I did this already, I won, I’m done. And with that last thought Rand Al’thor fell deep deep asleep into the furthest recesses of the brain. Lews took a deep breath and let out another scream wanting his mother or anyone to come pick him up and sooth his little soul.

The dragon is born!

Chapter 1
16 years later
The wheel of time turns, and Ages come and pass, leaving memories that become legend. Legend fades to myth, and even myth is long forgotten when the age that gave it birth comes again. In one Age, called the fifth age by some and the first by others. An age yet to come, an age long past, a dark icy wind arose from about as far north as you can get. The wind was not the beginning. There are neither beginnings nor endings to the turning of the wheel of time. But it was a beginning.
A steam vent in an icy mountain let out a puff of sulfur like particles riding the wind. High and fast the dark tainted wind rode across the Nym fields, high enough to escape the notice of the Nym, ever vigilant in their desire to protect the world. Over the borderlands of mankind, given graciously by the Nym when mankind needs more space to grow. Still high in the sky the dark wind blew through wild wilderness where only the Nym, the Ogier, the dai’shan aiel, and the Aes Sedai were allowed to travel if at some risk. The wind started descending as it traveled into the warmer southern air. Up ahead in the distance was a magnificently large tower made of stone black like obsidian, but much stronger. Along the northern wall of this Black tower were several windows, most open hoping to catch some of the cool breeze which it did nicely.
It was into one of these windows the dark wind blew, a classroom, though filled only with boys. The tainted breeze flew around several students, all dressed in black school uniforms and sitting at wooden desks on little rickety stool like chairs with just the barest of backrest. The flow of air flew so close to the face of one student he gave a start, finally going up the next nearby student’s nose just as he took in a deep breath.
Lews gave such a start at the intrusion, and he stood up sneezing loudly, the rancid smell still strong in his nose. Taller than most of his peers he certainly stood over everyone’s head while they were all sitting down.
“What are you doing, you look like a dork, hurry and sit down before anyone notices.” His best friend [Ishamael]() tried to warn him. However, it was already too late for that, most of the class was now looking at him which made him self conscious even if the women all said he looked like a dream. Worse, the teacher at the front of the class in a very similar black colored uniform was looking at him expectedly.
“Yes Lews, do you think you know the answer?” To Lews’s horror he realized he had been spending most of the class in a daydream about being the most powerful weaver ever. It was important that distinction, woman channel men weave. Saiadar and Saiadin, two halves of the same whole, both apart of the one power the true source. Everyone could learn to use it, or at least almost everyone. The dai’shan don’t channel or weave for all the power of their songs, not one of them it’s a law to join among other things. Other people might be so weak in the power it should be they don’t have it at all, there are objects which can amplify or temporarily give someone use of the one power, those with so little power that resort to using these transcognative devices were often socially outcast. Transmogs they were called when someone was being nice.
That didn’t help him now, he was in history class, and definitely not studying Transmogs. Lews desperately wracked his brain trying to remember what they were discussing. The teacher’s slight smile was starting to droop to a slight frown. Nym’s that was what they were discussing, what about Nym’s? Desperately looking around for some hope, he finally remembered. It was a question about the first Nym, what was his name?
“Goak him jim knee?” Lews answered with a rightfully apologetic look on his face. Sighing the teacher said “close, Oakhimgimee. At least he was close!” The teacher got progressively louder while giving the rest of the class an evil eye. The laughter that had started quickly quieted. Just at that particular moment a loud bell decided to ring calling an end to that class period.
As the other students started standing up, talking, and starting to head for the door, the teacher weaved a small weave that produced a louder voice reminding the class they had the test coming up at the end of the week.
Lews slowly grabbed his bag and followed the steady stream of students leaving the class.

Age of Legends
Prologue(Death and birth of a dragon)

Rand was happy, there wasn’t much else he could say about how he felt right there at that specific moment. Lying there in bed wearing nothing but his small cloths and a silk shirt half buttoned. Beside him sleeping so peacefully was one of his beautiful wives, Elmindreada, though she hated that name and preferred Min. Thinking back on many long years of peace and growth, yes he was fated to break the world, and he had. Though the prophecies never mentioned the creation and growth he would also leave behind. The creation of the black tower and the worldwide acceptance of male Aes Sedai, his crown and epitome of success the cleansing of saiadin. That and the discovery of ancient knowledge to confirm anyone should be able to learn to touch at least a small part of the true source, at least most people could. Those two things alone would have vast and far-reaching consequences for the good. The covers beside him shifted as his wife turned over in her sleep showing him her short curly hair. Thoughts drifting again to convincing the Aeil and Tu’athan(the tinkers he thought fondly still) to make peace, them taking it a step further and settling in the two rivers. The tinkers, the wondering people and followers of the way of the leaf, coming to terms with the Aiel spear wielders and settling in one place, that one place being his boyhood homeland. Perrin was there, as well as all the Emond fielders, what’s more they set him up like some king and started calling the place Manetheren.
Mat even came back and settled down to retire with the remainder of his family after his wife the empress died. Rand frowned because that wasn’t a happy memory, her battle with some kind of internal growth that even the best healers couldn’t fix, it was slow and painful. She was tough and knew enough to put things in order so there wouldn’t be any war for succession, but after her death and with no children not adopted, Mat just had no pull to stay. He came back and Perrin gave him an estate where he spent the rest of his days carousing in taverns even if no one would play dice with him again. The rest of his days were not much however, less than two years after his wife Mattrim died of a heart attack. The same strange fox head medallion he wore around his neck that had saved him so many times from enemy power wielders, due to its powers of absorbing any of the one power used against the wearer, was strangely the main cause of his death as there had been an Aes Sedai capable of healing close by. Rand wondered what ever became of that medallion. Trying to shift his thoughts back to happier things he thought of Elayne another of his wives and queen of the region this new “kingdom” was growing. Or at least she was. Having not one but two kingdoms to run was taxing her, especially when one played that awful game of houses so much, as if it were breathing. She actually willingly gave that area to Perrin, that and more besides. “Having friends at your back, especially friends who know they owe you can only help.”, he remembered her saying when he asked her.
He laughed remembering how her cute golden-haired little face grew so stern while she rounded on him for not caring about his friends and shouldn’t they also get something for all the help they provided at the last battle. Of course, it also had nothing to do with being such close friends with Perrin’s wife Fail. Manetheren though, when asked Perrin just shrugged his huge shoulders saying one name is as good as any, and it was the one that everyone agreed on.
Min groaned softly beside him still wrapped in the silken bedding spread. His laugh seemed to have disturbed her, he quickly stifled it and glared at the lavish bedroom they slept in as if that were the fault for his mirth. Lying on top of the silken covers because he never quite got used to sleeping on feather mattresses. It really was a lavish bedroom, filled with rugs and wall coverings, paintings, not one but two large dressers with mirrors, a matching and equally large wardrobe, currently opened showing two other mirrors on the inside of the doors, smaller than the dresser mirrors, and a neat array of blouses and trousers with floral embroidery(Min’s things). Otherwise, there was also a washstand with another small mirror, a desk and one chair slightly askew and away from the desk. On the desk are several stacks of books, and an open notebook with a nearby quill and ink pot. There was a lone unlit lamp also on the desk gilded in gold, as well as several gold gilded wall lamps also unlit around the room.
Sighing softly as Min settled back to comfortable sleep, he stared back up at the bland whitewashed ceiling above him and thought about the schools he had patroned. So many new ideas and inventions were springing up and with traveling prevalent they all spread to the world almost as fast as the ideas can be thought up. This would hopefully lead to a golden age for the world, and his schools were even branching off on their own into new learning institutes. These alone seemed to keep the peace between all the nations. Rand couldn’t tell if he was trying to be modest or humble. Yes he patroned and started the first few schools, but it was not all him coming up with any of the ideas and inventions, many of which had become marvels in and of themselves. Transportation, communication, education These would be left behind and he would be known for that as well as the other.
Breaking the world to make it whole, and his victory with that world’s armies at the last battle. He fought the dark one while the armies of all the nations fought the shadowspawn and darkfriends and dreadlords. Despite everything against him, including it seemed sometimes even the creator, he not only won the battle, but he survived it, he survived it and had a nice long life. The world was at peace, headed to a golden age which he would get credit for, and so Rand was happy. His eyes closed and his thoughts grew that sort of muffled feeling they get just as they start turning into dreams.
PAIN! Rand knew pain, he was no stranger to hurts, especially from a half healed old wound in his side, but that was not the same thing right now. For some reason panic started rising up in him, this was something new, this was something worse. A sharp pain again, in his chest, his body wildly spasmed up kicking his sleeping wife awake.
“Ow you bloody tall buffoon, if you think you can kick me out of bed you have another thing …” Min trailed off as another spasm of pain racked through Rand. Her face contorting with fear as she watched him clutching his chest nearly double over with the pain spasm. He tried to tell her he would be alright, but all that came out was a groaning grunt. He tried lifting his hand to show her it would be alright, but he couldn’t get it to move. Suddenly a hand hit him in his face, it was his hand. He couldn’t feel his hand or his arm. Fear started creeping in as another spasm of pain caused him to let out another groan and clutch at his chest with this hand he couldn’t feel.
“Creator shine his light on me, of course you would choose to die when you’re with me.” Min started shouting hysterically. “For the love of light you bloody wool head, you hang on until I can get Aviendha to come heal you, she’s not far, just hold on damn you.”
Rand vaguely had an impression of Min running towards and out the door. Another spasm of pain, except somehow this was less. He knew it should hurt just as much, but it didn’t. He must have found the void so it wouldn’t hurt as much, that was it. Rand thought about his third and final wife Aviendha, how she would likely come in to find him as healthy as a bull and upset his stomachache disturbed her wise one’s practice. Stomachache? Wasn’t it his chest that was hurting him? Another very small spasm, yes its his chest, but he was also feeling decidedly nauseous too, and that was the greatest issue right? Sleep was all he needed, he would sleep, and everything would be fine in the morning, tomorrow he had to get up early to sheer the sheep.
The void completely surrounds and envelops Rand. As he fades away he hears a sinister voice in his head, “YOU WON THIS ROUND DRAGON REBORN BUT WE WILL COME FACE TO FACE AGAIN” The dark one, what, again? No, the dark one is dead, am I dead, wake up you light blinded fool. There was nothing but the void, not even the light of saiadin could be seen. Rand listened as hard as he could, he thought he heard something, something almost familiar. There it was again, soft but rhythmic, sounding not exactly far, but muffled as if listening through water. Thump Thump and it hit him, that’s the sound of a heartbeat, but who’s heartbeat his? Sleep, that’s what he needed, a really good nights sleep and he would feel better in the morning. Rand drifted off into a dreamless sleep listening to the heartbeat, Thump Thump.
Thus did the dragon reborn die after seeing the end of one age turned into the beginning of another. The people of the land wept at his passing, they swore they would remember him forever and always. Time however is not a kind mistress, when an age is gone it starts to fade from existence, times deeds even people change in the telling’s of the years and centuries. Eventually when the wheel goes round and gives birth to the age again all details have been forgotten, muffled, or contorted.

Mariann Jo’sheen Sedai was old. She had a proper last name once if she could just remember. It had been so long ago since she had last thought of it, a life in the white tower could do that, and Sedai was as good a last name as could be for formality. Just saying Mariann was old was an understatement though, being a woman with a stronger channeling ability, and having sworn on all 8 Life Oath Rods, a prerequisite to becoming Amyrlin of the tower, that she even has any grey hair showing means she must be well past 800 years old, and to show the amount of age she did it must be closer to past 900 years. She was still sharp in mind mostly, at least anything from the last 100 years or so she could recall as sharp as if it happened yesterday. Had it really been longer than a hundred years since she last though of her family name, having long lasted past the last of her lineage, her family long gone or married into others.
She thought even harder surly she had been at her last relative’s funeral, when was it, it was a great aunt she remembered, and the surname was …, she thought really hard. She was in the Amyrlin’s bedchamber reserved for the current leader of the white tower. That said like most of the past Amyrlins before her she kept the bedroom nice and simple. The single window held a cooling fan with right below it a heater coil. The other wall held a closed door which led into her bathroom, the next wall holding another door leading out of the bedchamber into the office of her role. The last wall held the only other furniture besides the plain brown four poster bed she was laying on. A white nightstand with built in mirror and matching white clothed chair. The bathroom was large and would hold her wardrobe of clothes along with the indoor plumbing necessities.
Mariann thought back to each of the eight oaths she took on the life rods, trying to remember which one she had last taken when she attended her aunt’s funeral. Small cylindrical devices no longer than her arm, when you take an oath on one your life actually increases by a standard lifetime or roughly 100 years depending on the person, those stronger in the one power given slightly more. Really giving any oath at all would do for the increasing your life, the only requirement being you channel Saiadar while making your oath and someone else that can also channel does so to activate it. However each specific Ajah required you to take a specific oath, and the eighth oath rod was solely for those like her who have taken the Amyrlin seat after having have pledged on the other seven, again a specific oath.
“I will say no word that is untrue”. Eight oath rods, and eight times this is spoken to ensure you do not offer a false oath, as if anyone would think of lying so many truth seekers everywhere.
“I will faithfully serve as Amyrlin to all of my children for the rest of my days”. The Amyrlin seat was a lifelong position and would not open again until her death. Serve all her children, it was said that the ancient honorific Amyrlin meant something like mother to all, it means that she was a servant to everyone in the world, matter it not she was the leader of the white tower. That first part about serving faithfully as Amyrlin could leave some wiggle room depending on how one viewed the title of Amyrlin, the last however left no wiggle room for anything.
“I will treat everyone with fairness and justice as is prescribed by the dai’shan aiel of the grey tower and the Aes Sedai code of ethics”. Those were binding stronger than time itself. The grey tower first because only the dai’shan aiel more than anyone can decide what is fair and right, they were and are the original truth seekers among so much more. You would also have as much power to reach the moon as you would to get the Aes Sedai code of ethics changed. First it would take a proposal from either of the leaders from the white or black tower. Either the Amyrlin of the white tower or the Pope of the black tower has to make a suggested change, which then needs to go through each Ajah/Faction and receive 90% approval, then it gets sent to the other tower to make its way up through the chains until it finally ends with the other towers leader. If it passes all of that it gets sent to the grey tower for approval again 90% before finally appearing before the first servant leader of the grey tower for final approval, and at any stage it can be stopped if it doesn’t pass.
That wasn’t it though, no she was not Amyrlin at her aunt’s funeral. Before then was the Blue ajah, which was closer. But still too recent, what level was she? The sleeping shift she wore was one of the new fads called a one piece. It was literally one garment that covered both legs and torso. It had several convenient buttons for keeping it on or taking it off. It was grey cotton all one solid color, and it was bunching up at the knees. Mariann distractedly Jerked it back into position. Her thoughts drifted too far back to when she had her very first foretelling which was that she would one day become Amyrlin seat. She was a young girl of only 16 years, and she knew without a doubt. It came in bursts though and it was not something she could control.
This vision came on stronger than any she had ever encountered before. So strong it jerked her body stiff as a board and slammed her down thankfully into the bed she was already laying on. An Evil shadow of a man, a giant taller than mountains, and blacker than the darkest shadows on a moonless night, peering down at the world smiling, that smile turning your blood to jelly and freezing you in place with its ill intent. A great serpentine beast came flying from the other side of the world, Long and scales glimmering like diamonds with talons made of pure gold but sharper than the sharpest knife, fire trailing from its partially open moth off its gleaming sharp teeth. It was equally large as the malevolent shadow man and flew on giant tornado causing wings straight at the other. They fought a great battle against each other, but in doing so caused so many deaths as swaths of their destruction ravaged the world. A flash of light and Mariann was staring at the grey tower as if just a few hundred yards away. She started walking towards it only to watch in horror and bewilderment as the tower before her cracked and collapsed as if a mirror or glass shattered. Another flash of light and she saw a baby boy, but he aged so fast right before her eyes until he died as an old man. She couldn’t remember much, but she knew deep down that he was in some way related to the other visions and this man, for it was definitely a man, was likely the cause of them.
Opening her eyes to stare at the brown four poster cloth above her and remembering every detail about her vision she distractedly spoke to herself . “Goshin is my sur name and I last heard it at Aunt Maragel Goshin’s funeral while I was at the green level”. She shook her head, that wasn’t important anymore if it ever really was. She quickly sat up in her woolen one piece swinging her feet over the side of the bed and hurried to her nightstand. Sitting in the chair she reached in one drawer to get paper and another to get an ink pointer. Channeling a single small strand of fire into a swinging glass bulb above her bed brought light into the room. She hastily started scribbling down every detail from her vision, she was grateful she always kept ink and paper nearby to do so.

Mr. Telamon was a nervous wreck while sitting in the hospital waiting room. He somehow knew, sensed something was wrong with his wife’s delivery. Dai’shan aiel were everywhere; as were nurses, patients or close kin waiting, Every once in a while a doctor’s assistant would come out and call a name ushering someone to see a doctor. Really bad cases would be taken in through a separate entrance known only to the healers. It didn’t matter, and he got confirmation as those doors opened up and not the assistant, but the doctor who had taken his wife looked around the room first at the dai’shan, then at him. A group of three of the white clad figures started moving towards him even before the doctor did. They felt his grief or rather the grief he was going to feel, even before he himself felt it. That and they knew it would take three of them to calm him down. Tears were streaming from his eyes before the doctor even started speaking.
“There was a complication during the pregnancy, your son is ok, your wife however did not make it, I’m so sorry. She did manage to tell us a name before she passed. Lews, Lews Therin after her father. Is that what you would like on the birth certificate?”
Baby Lews’s father numbly nodded, and the doctor walked away as uncontrollable sobs started emanating from the man. The three dai’shan aiel circled around him arm in arm and started singing a song of comfort and peace and mourning.
***
Rand Al’thor was asleep soundly when something woke him up, but he couldn’t tell what or where, or even anything for that matter. It was like the void, nothingness, but a sound, not a feeling, a heartbeat. The heartbeat was much faster than it was and suddenly something pushed him hard in the head. Go away he thought I’m trying to sleep. However the push came back stronger than before, this time managing to flip him upside down, upside down?, he could tell direction in this floating nothingness. Really awake now Rand tried to remember, remember?, remember what? Again the push and he was being squeezed to death and suddenly he remembered something about the dark one. A voice, a word, a sentence, the dark one wanted him dead. Was this the dark one trying to kill him, again push, again very tight squeeze, this time a light as if from a tunnel. It wasn’t the only light though, Rand went to the real void, and he saw it, Saiadin. He reached out with all his might to grab it and it came like a flood. He couldn’t control it, he had no strength, and his memory was foggy, he just expelled it to get out the other light and away from the pushing and death squeeze.
As Saiadin left him so did more and more memories, he tried to shout that he killed the dark one, sealed the bore so it could never be open. All that came out of his mouth was a scream. No blood and fire no I did this already, I won, I’m done. And with that last thought Rand Al’thor fell deep deep asleep into the furthest recesses of the brain. Lews took a deep breath and let out another scream wanting his mother or anyone to come pick him up and sooth his little soul.

The dragon is born!

Chapter 1
16 years later
The wheel of time turns, and Ages come and pass, leaving memories that become legend. Legend fades to myth, and even myth is long forgotten when the age that gave it birth comes again. In one Age, called the fifth age by some and the first by others. An age yet to come, an age long past, a dark icy wind arose from about as far north as you can get. The wind was not the beginning. There are neither beginnings nor endings to the turning of the wheel of time. But it was a beginning.
A steam vent in an icy mountain let out a puff of sulfur like particles riding the wind. High and fast the dark tainted wind rode across the Nym fields, high enough to escape the notice of the Nym, ever vigilant in their desire to protect the world. Over the borderlands of mankind, given graciously by the Nym when mankind needs more space to grow. Still high in the sky the dark wind blew through wild wilderness where only the Nym, the Ogier, the dai’shan aiel, and the Aes Sedai were allowed to travel if at some risk. The wind started descending as it traveled into the warmer southern air. Up ahead in the distance was a magnificently large tower made of stone black like obsidian, but much stronger. Along the northern wall of this Black tower were several windows, most open hoping to catch some of the cool breeze which it did nicely.
It was into one of these windows the dark wind blew, a classroom, though filled only with boys. The tainted breeze flew around several students, all dressed in black school uniforms and sitting at wooden desks on little rickety stool like chairs with just the barest of backrest. The flow of air flew so close to the face of one student he gave a start, finally going up the next nearby student’s nose just as he took in a deep breath.
Lews gave such a start at the intrusion, and he stood up sneezing loudly, the rancid smell still strong in his nose. Taller than most of his peers he certainly stood over everyone’s head while they were all sitting down.
“What are you doing, you look like a dork, hurry and sit down before anyone notices.” His best friend [Ishamael]() tried to warn him. However, it was already too late for that, most of the class was now looking at him which made him self conscious even if the women all said he looked like a dream. Worse, the teacher at the front of the class in a very similar black colored uniform was looking at him expectedly.
“Yes Lews, do you think you know the answer?” To Lews’s horror he realized he had been spending most of the class in a daydream about being the most powerful weaver ever. It was important that distinction, woman channel men weave. Saiadar and Saiadin, two halves of the same whole, both apart of the one power the true source. Everyone could learn to use it, or at least almost everyone. The dai’shan don’t channel or weave for all the power of their songs, not one of them it’s a law to join among other things. Other people might be so weak in the power it should be they don’t have it at all, there are objects which can amplify or temporarily give someone use of the one power, those with so little power that resort to using these transcognative devices were often socially outcast. Transmogs they were called when someone was being nice.
That didn’t help him now, he was in history class, and definitely not studying Transmogs. Lews desperately wracked his brain trying to remember what they were discussing. The teacher’s slight smile was starting to droop to a slight frown. Nym’s that was what they were discussing, what about Nym’s? Desperately looking around for some hope, he finally remembered. It was a question about the first Nym, what was his name?
“Goak him jim knee?” Lews answered with a rightfully apologetic look on his face. Sighing the teacher said “close, Oakhimgimee. At least he was close!” The teacher got progressively louder while giving the rest of the class an evil eye. The laughter that had started quickly quieted. Just at that particular moment a loud bell decided to ring calling an end to that class period.
As the other students started standing up, talking, and starting to head for the door, the teacher weaved a small weave that produced a louder voice reminding the class they had the test coming up at the end of the week.
Lews slowly grabbed his bag and followed the steady stream of students leaving the class.

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Seeds of Chaos are stones of great power, they started fading in & out of existence after the calamity, altering the very fabric of reality. Those who risk seeking the stone's power have all gone mad. See how the world has changed with the existence of these Illusive Chaos Fragments as we play in this alternate timeline...
In this adventure, a group of unsuspecting heroes embarks on a seemingly innocent quest by a humble Lord named Cornelius Rothchester, unbeknownst to them this would change their lives forever as their paths would soon be intertwined with the Seeds of Chaos, these powerful artifacts, too dangerous for any mortal kind, some believed it holds the secret to the universe and sought to understand it ends up losing their sanity. Those who knows of its existence then covered it up with lies calling it nothing more than a madman’s tale coupled with its illusive nature that not everyone can visualize the shards causing it to fall into obscurity. As the heroes uncover the sinister truth behind these shards and witness the devastating effects they impose, they must race against time to prevent the realm from descending into chaos. In a world where allegiances may shift and mystery lurking in every corner, they must navigate treachery, confront their own inner conflicts, and safeguard the Seeds from falling into the wrong hands. Will they resist the seductive allure of power, or succumb to its insidious temptation? Join us as the fate of the realm hangs in the balance as every choice you make challenges the very nature of the world.

“Before I met the Savior, I was a worthless piece of garbage, barely a human being,” Lovebug droned at the front of the enormous room. Lovebug was a monster of a man, two-hundred and fifty pounds of hard tattooed muscle. Like myself, he was a high-ranking member of the Church.
His flat gray eyes scanned the room with a fanatical gleam. I sat in the first row, watching and waiting. Followers of the Savior would tell their stories, how the Savior had reached down and lifted them out of sin and filth to bring them up to the divine. The bright fluorescent lights overhead droned on with a low hum. Thousands of men crammed together in seats or stood at the back of the room.
The Savior taught only two commandments: to murder is holy, and to die for the Savior is the highest bliss. An army of warriors followed the Savior, knights on a holy crusade, priests who wouldn’t hesitate to burn the foul bodies of any witches or demons we encountered. I thought of myself as a knight for the holy king, our Savior, the mouthpiece of the eternal.
“Now, it is like the hand of God has reached into my heart and loosened all the knots there, the knots of anxiety and fear and uncertainty.” He raised his black, military-style rifle into the air for emphasis. “I never realized the true nature of reality before- the fact that we are living in a simulation where the final battle of good versus evil is playing out before our very eyes. And I will be on the side of the good, until my dying breath. I will be on the side of the Savior and of God!”
The crowd roared and clapped. Men got to their feet, sweating heavily in the boiling hot conference room. I felt the surge of energy pass through me like a tidal wave, the pure confidence and iron will of truth. Lovebug lumbered down off the stage as the Savior came out from behind the red curtains, walking with the straight spine of a soldier. He wore a silky black robe that fluttered softly around him, the hood pulled back.
The Savior had horrific burns running the length of his body. His arms had melted folds of keloid scars visible all the way to the tips of his fingers. His scalp had also melted, and the Savior had no hair except for his eyelashes and eyebrows. But the fire that had nearly killed him had spared his face, an aristocratic visage with ferocious green eyes like those of a cat. That face seemed like it had been sculpted out of marble by DaVinci himself, the high cheekbones jutting out over a chin so sharp that it looked like it could have hammered nails into boards. He stared out at the crowd for a long moment, his gaze unblinking.
“The final battle has begun,” he said in a low voice, no more than a whisper. Yet, in the deathly silence of the hall, his words rang out loud and clear. “Those in charge of this illusory world know that we see them. We see them very well, how they hide behind the curtain. They control the world economy, the justice system. Every government, whether they call themselves communist, authoritarian or democratic, is no more than a puppet in their dancing fingers.
“When anyone tries to stand up and lead the masses of suffering people towards freedom from slavery, they are vilified by the mainstream media, brought up on false charges or killed, their bodies staged to look like a suicide. Look what they did to Jesus, and for what? For telling people to love God more than their rulers? And those who speak out today are also crucified, murdered in prisons or killed by their governments. Truth is the most precious commodity, after all. It is one that can only be purchased with blood.
“So what can we do? How can we fight against such evil?” There was a quiet muttering among the pale, frozen faces that stared up at the stage with adoration and love.
“We can fight it by using their own weapons against them!” the Savior said, his voice rising in speed and pitch. He raised his fisted hands to his chest, accentuating each syllable with a back and forth stab of his hands. “Fight fire with fire, and pay back blood with blood! The only thing these global terrorists understand is greater levels of force. We must show them death on a scale they have never before imagined.” I felt nervous as the Savior delivered his message. I saw other men shuffle anxiously in the crowded auditorium, most of them having high-caliber rifles slung around their shoulders.
I felt the rising violence and bloodlust in the air like electricity before a lightning storm. At that moment, I knew we would all have to fight before too long.
***
The Savior called me and Lovebug back to his office after the speech had ended, sending his squirrely assistant over to deliver the hand-written note in the Savior’s blocky, copperplate handwriting. For a long moment, I simply watched the crowd filtering out of the doors, heading back towards the complex where all the holy soldiers of the Savior lived. Feeling dissociated and light-headed, I followed behind the massive muscular form of Lovebug, the heavy weight of the M16 bouncing against my chest. We pushed through the blood-red velvet curtains, winding our way past stage equipment and down a hallway of pure marble.
Mystical paintings similar to those of Alex Grey covered both walls, showing the inside workings of the human body through art. It was as if the painter had X-ray vision and could see the heart chakra and the countless thin vessels that spiderwebbed up to the crown. But, unlike Alex Grey’s hopeful depictions of mysticism, these showed men and women being burned alive, crucified, decapitated or strangled. Dark colors composed the paintings: the dark blue of a suffocating face, the clotted red of an infected stab wound, the black of death. They captured the essence of struggle perfectly.
The Savior’s office had a thick mahogany door with silver engravings of leaves and vines running the length of it. At the top stood a single staring eye with twelve wavy tentacles emerging from the perimeter of it- the symbol of God, who the Savior had seen personally. God would sometimes speak through the mouth of the Savior, always during times of great tribulation or suffering. Lovebug knocked at the door. The Savior’s deep voice echoed out faintly.
“Come in.”
We entered slowly, the sprawling desk of the Savior filling half of the room. He sat in a comfortable chair behind it, reclining. On the walls behind him, he had pictures of Jesus, Saint Stephen, Gandhi, Hitler, Jim Jones, Shoko Asahara and others who he taught had fought against the world elites and been killed for it.
The Church of the Final Rapture was not a church in the conventional sense. The main teachings didn’t revolve around the divinity of Christ or the nature of original sin. What the Savior taught was far more profound- an illusory or simulated world where every single person could become their own Christ, could awaken to the truth and perform miracles, but only if they believed fully and followed the Savior.
“Sit down, please,” he said in his gravelly voice. “I have a mission I would like to discuss, and you two are the only ones competent and loyal enough to carry it out.”
***
“There is another anomaly spreading,” the Savior said, staring between me and Lovebug with his fanatical emerald eyes. “It is located in a rural part of the United States, in a town called-” he glanced down at the sheet of paper in front of him- “Frost Hollow. Supposedly, there are black-ops sites located nearby, secret alphabet agencies experimenting with magnetic distortion systems and creating rips in the fabric of spacetime with micro-wormholes.
“I don’t think it is much of a leap to say that the anomaly was likely started, either intentionally or unintentionally, by the government, as part of their research. The Cleaners would like to control that power, after all. They have been sending their men after it for years like sheep to the slaughter, expending billions of dollars researching it. If they and the US government end up being able to control the creation and spread of anomalies, they will use it to enslave the world. There is no question about it in my mind.” He leaned forwards towards us, his eyes growing cold.
“There is only one path forward I can see. We need to spread the anomaly, make it become unstable so the demons of Hell contained within it can spill out onto the real world. Perhaps it will awaken the downtrodden masses enough to begin the final revolution. We must fight terrorism with greater terrorism, and violence with greater levels of violence. For this mission, I am sending the two of you into Frost Hollow.
“Your job will be to find the Titan or Titans and lead them out to the border of the anomaly. These are horrendous beasts- indeed, the Church has seen them before. They are nearly impossible to kill. I want you two to go inside, bait it and have it follow you back to the edge, beyond the veil.”
“What’s a Titan?” Lovebug asked, his eyes flicking left and right nervously. The Savior stared at him stonily for a long moment. Then his eyes rolled back in his head, showing only the whites. All the blood seemed to drain from his face. His teeth chattered, his mouth opened, and through it, God spoke, the words pouring out like crashing stones. The voice did not sound anything like the Savior’s. It sounded much deeper, more mechanical, more alien somehow.
“I see you very well. I saw you when you were no more than a blood clot in your mother’s body. I see you even as corpses, rotted, putrefying, crawling with scavengers and insects. I see everything, every moment of time. But, in the anomaly, there are things I cannot see. For this, my holy ones must go forth.
“In the center of Hell, you will find a rose, a bird and a stone. These will be your salvation, if salvation can be found at all. Go with the blessing of Yaldabaoth.” The voice cut off abruptly, the silence deafening. I could hear my own heart pounding in my ears.
The Savior’s eyes came back down, looking confused and uncertain. His pupils were dilated and he was sweating heavily, even though it was cool and air-conditioned back here in his private office. We stared at each other across the table, a no-man’s land that protected me like a shield. For there seemed to be something dark in the Savior along with the light, and I didn’t know if any man could contain that power.
But there was no question of disobeying. Within the hour, Lovebug and I were on one of the Church’s private jets flying to the town of Frost Hollow.
***
The gently rolling hills of Frost Hollow loomed below us as the plane circled the small dirt airstrip in the middle of some cow farms. I looked up at Lovebug, trying to judge his stony expression. He had done many years in prison before joining the Church and finding salvation, even being the leader of one of the gangs. I knew he wasn’t afraid of violence. He had never told me what he did, what tortured him so much.
The Savior had told us much secret knowledge- how to find a Titan, a massive, bloated abomination that could come into being only within an anomaly, a combination of many rotted body pieces fused together in some sort of hellish black magic. The Savior had spies around Frost Hollow and the surrounding towns who had been monitoring the anomaly, watching the unstable gateways leading in and out and mapping them as best they could. We would be given a fast car, plenty of weapons and some body armor. I had no idea how nightmarish the journey would become, however.
“I’m driving,” Lovebug said as we descended the steps. A man in a black suit with the symbol of the eye and tentacles pinned on his black button-up shirt pulled up with a Mercedes AMG-One. It was a sleek, silver thing of immense luxury and power. The craftsmanship made it look like a work of art. I sighed, keeping my finger nervously on the trigger of my rifle as I glanced around the strange, empty town.
“If this thing won’t outrun a Titan, then nothing will,” I said, trying to break the tension. I looked at the speedometer, seeing it went up to 220 miles an hour.
“Damn fucking right,” Lovebug growled as we slid into the futuristic-looking leather seats. The engine turned on like a softly purring kitten. The GPS automatically turned on as well, the soft robotic voice leading us toward one of the more stable portals to the anomaly.
Lovebug sped down the empty forest roads of Frost Hollow, going twice the legal speed limit the entire way.
“The speed limit is only for the lowest common denominator,” Lovebug said pedantically, waggling a tattooed finger for emphasis. The GPS said we would reach the gateway to the anomaly in five minutes. Based on Lovebug’s speed, I thought it would be more like two. “Someone who actually knows how to drive and isn’t drunk or high can easily do 80 in a 40. Easily.” I glanced nervously at the speedometer, realizing he was going over 100 miles an hour now. The sports car hugged the tight corners of the winding forest roads with absolute precision.
“Turn right onto Snake Island Road Extension in five hundred feet,” the robotic female voice. Lovebug slammed on the brakes a few seconds later, the tires skidding and locking up. We looked around frantically, seeing no streets anywhere except the one we were on.
“What the hell?” Lovebug asked. The night was crawling in by now, the darkness covering the forests like a curtain. I squinted, looking at the thick grove of trees on our right, scanning it back and forth over and over. After a few seconds, I realized there was an overgrown dirt path there with no sign. It was nearly impossible to see at night, however, and calling it a road was somewhat of a joke.
“Oh, damn,” I said. “They should’ve given us an SUV.”
***
According to the GPS, our destination was only a thousand feet down Snake Island Road Extension. The low clearance of the Mercedes was a problem as Lovebug tried to navigate the flooded forest path. Deep tread marks flooded with black, stagnant water marked the entirety of Snake Island Road Extension. But ahead, the headlights illuminated something unusual.
Cutting straight across the trees and brush like a razorblade was a shimmering wall of translucent energy. It reminded me of a mirage, curving upwards in wavy spiral patterns. I could see through it easily, but it gave everything a dark, sinister covering. The forest seemed to be in constant motion as the grayish light distorted it.
“Look how huge it is!” I said in awe, staring up at the starry sky. The flat wall rose up seemingly forever, disappearing in the cold void of infinite space. Lovebug slowly ambled the car towards the anomaly, trying to keep the Mercedes from getting stuck with its low clearance.
“You ready for this, man?” Lovebug asked in a quavering voice as we inched towards the anomaly. It was only seconds away now. He grabbed my shoulder. “This is it. Remember the commandments.” I closed my eyes, concentrating my heart on the Savior’s words. Dying for the good is the highest bliss, he had told us.
“Let’s do this,” I said, my eyes flying open from my silent prayer as the hood passed through the anomaly. It disappeared in front of our eyes. We could see the forest on the other side, but the Mercedes looked like it was going through some sort of teleportation portal, being ripped apart layer by layer and sent somewhere else. Lovebug nervously grabbed my hand.
“For the Savior and for the Good,” he whispered as we passed through.
***
I heard screaming and wailing, full of agony and unimaginable horror, like the screams of those burning in Hell. My vision went white. A carpet of morphing dark colors covered everything as the shrieking intensified, until I thought my eardrums would explode.
“Stop!” I cried, feeling the pressure in my head like a splitting migraine. “Stop screaming!” I started kicking, punching, trying to get away.
“Calm the fuck down!” someone whispered, slapping me hard across the face. Stunned, I looked up, seeing Lovebug holding me down in the seat. He was covered in sweat, his face a blank mask of terror. “Don’t scream. There’s things outside that are looking this way.” I blinked fast, my senses coming back to me. I felt like a man waking up from surgery, confused and disoriented, my memories only returning in small trickles and drops.
We were sitting in the Mercedes on a road that looked like it had been made of human skin. The headlights showed the ragged patches of pale, leathery flesh sewn together with black thread. The road disappeared ahead of us in a straight line. The land here looked as flat as Kansas. Like a mirror world, it had houses and restaurants and churches lining both sides of the road, but they were all wrong.
The stone church looked like it was constructed of some kind of red volcanic rock. Baphomets and upside-down pentagrams covered the outer walls, engraved deeply into the glossy surface. Mutilated bodies covered the front lawn, impaled, crucified, skinned alive or burned at the stake. Hundreds of men, women and children lay dead in front of the Satanic temple.
Overhead, the sky bubbled and frothed with red clouds and constant explosions of blue lightning. Like missile flashes, the lightning illuminated the world around us, shining brightly before going dark. The incessant strobing gave the entire place a kind of circus freakshow vibe.
Many of the homes looked like they had been constructed from bones and covered in human skin, like some sort of hellish teepee. Arm and leg bones wrapped in razor-wire formed the pillars. Grinning skulls lined the top of the flat, rectangular roofs, thousands of bleached human heads staring down.
Staring out of the dark doorways, I saw gleaming, silvery eyes. They loomed eight or nine feet in the air on spidery bodies. Their limbs looked as thin as bones, jet-black and dull. The only color from these still revenants was from their unblinking eyes and grinning mouths, where teeth like those of a dragonfish jutted out. Every pair of eyes on that street was fixed intently on the Mercedes, the sick rictus grins on their alien faces never faltering.
“Jesus Christ, I’m sorry,” I whispered, feeling weak. “I thought I was in a nightmare for a minute there.” Lovebug shrugged his massive shoulders.
“Yeah, I felt it too, though I came out of it a lot faster than you did,” he said, glancing over at the Satanic church as we passed. It had protective black spikes rising high into the air all around it. The broken body of a child who had been burnt at the stake stood in front of the gates like a death omen, his small, withered hand holding a black rose. Lovebug choked, retching. He nearly rolled down the window, until his eyes met the silvery ones of a nearby abomination.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, looking closer at the church. On top of the roof, I saw an enormous statue of a black raven, its wings spread as if it were flying. It had three gleaming, silvery eyes embedded into the dark rock.
“That boy just reminds me of my son,” Lovebug whispered glumly, inching along the streets.
“I didn’t know you had a son,” I said, surprised. Lovebug had never mentioned a family. He shrugged.
“I don’t. Not anymore. I killed him. I got drunk and high one night back when I was selling drugs. Fell asleep in the living room with a lit cigarette and burned down the whole house. I killed my wife and son, burned them. They sent me to prison, but what did that matter? The prison up here is far worse.” He tapped the side of his temple.
I was about to say something, but at that moment, many things happened at once.
***
Lovebug was staring at the corpse of the child when an inhumanly long arm reached up from the side of the car. It had fingers like spikes, as sharp as a knife and twice as long as normal human fingers. I gasped, a warning shout welling up in my throat, but the hand came smashing down into the driver’s side window and grabbed Lovebug’s neck.
The window exploded in a shower of safety glass, shattering like brittle bones. Lovebug’s scream was cut off as he was dragged, kicking and screaming, out of the car. I swung open my door, leaping out and bringing my rifle around.
The Cheshire Cat grin of the abomination never faltered as it held Lovebug in front of its body like a human shield, holding him by the neck above the ground. Lovebug’s legs kicked and squirmed, his face turning blue as he slowly suffocated. His eyes bulged from their sockets, panicked and rolling, uncomprehending in their total animal panic.
I flicked on the laser sight. It danced over the ground, flashing over the body of Lovebug and the abomination. But I couldn’t aim for its torso or face, as I would probably hit Lovebug in the process. It was far too close.
I aimed for the monster’s thin, skeletal feet, the black toes twisting over each other like the roots of a tree. The gunshots rang out as a deafening counterpoint to the thunder blasts.
The monster gave a hissing gurgle as two bullets caught it in the right ankle. The creature seemed bloodless, and only dust and ashes rolled out of the exploded insectile flesh. It tried to skitter away, but its destroyed ankle caused it to fall forward, throwing Lovebug.
His body rolled across the road, the soft leather that looked like it was made from tens of thousands of human skins. Gasping, his lips still showing a faint blue cast, he struggled to crawl away.
I saw furtive movement from all around us. The creatures in the houses and doorways were moving forwards, drawn by the bloodshed or noise. Hundreds of glowing, silvery eyes surrounded us. I sprinted forward, dragging Lovebug to his feet.
“The church,” I hissed. “It’s the only place.” Still pulling the weak, confused Lovebug behind me, we staggered towards the black gates. They opened with a shriek of rusted metal.
***
The creatures stopped at the gates to the blood-red church, simply staring at us like statues. They didn’t even seem to breathe, their lidless eyes never blinking, the silvery glow never fading.
“I think this is the place we’re meant to go,” I whispered as we made our way towards the massive pointed doors. “When God spoke to us, he said something about a stone, a bird and a rose, that we would find the Titan through that.” I pointed back at the burnt body of the boy. “He’s holding a rose. On top of the building, there’s a bird. And the church is all stone. Maybe this is the place where God wanted us to go all along.”
“Maybe,” Lovebug muttered through heaving gasps, still grabbing at his bruised neck. “God, this hurts. It feels like I got hanged.” Side by side, we pushed open the doors to the Satanic church and walked inside.
***
Row after row of pews stretched out in front of us. Thousands of black candles were set up all around the perimeter of the enormous chamber. They sputtered and flickered constantly, throwing dancing shadows in every direction.
A small pair of bright eyes glanced up at us from under one of the nearby pews. I nearly jumped out of my skin, pointing the rifle at them and yelling.
“Show yourself! Come out now, or I shoot!” Lovebug looked at me, confused. He hadn’t seen it. But a few heartbeats later, a little girl crawled out, her eyes big and blue, her body an emaciated wreck. She wore ripped strands of what looked like leathery human skin to cover herself, tied together with black string. In one small, grime-streaked hand, she held a half-eaten raw mouse.
“Please, don’t kill me,” she said in a small voice. “I’m Emma. My mommy and daddy got dragged away and I’m scared.” I felt sick and weak looking at this small victim. I reached down and helped her up.
“I wouldn’t hurt you,” I said, kneeling down to her level. “I thought you were one of the bad guys. This is Lovebug, and I’m Jack.”
“This isn’t part of the mission, man,” Lovebug said nervously. “What are we supposed to do with her?”
“Well, we can’t just fucking leave her here,” I whispered back. “We need…” But I never got to finish that thought. Because, at that moment, the church woke up.
***
A red glow started at the front of the chamber, the altar where the priest would have stood and given speeches or holy communion. Here, they had a podium that looked like it was carved from a single block of obsidian. Reflected in it, I saw the screaming faces of people burning in Hell, grinning demons ripping off strips of human flesh and spiraling waves of flames, all sculpted by an artist who was able to capture the most miniscule details of agony and torture.
I looked around, realizing Emma had gone. I hadn’t seen her scurry away and hide, but her absence gave me a feeling of crushing dread in my chest.
“Lovebug, something’s wrong,” I whispered, still staring up at the altar. I heard a floorboard creak behind me. I glanced back just in time to see a man wearing full SWAT gear. I caught the flash of a pistol coming down, the butt aimed at my forehead. I heard the cracking, felt the immense pressure and pain. For a few moments, I swam in the currents of consciousness, trying to stay awake, but then the blackness crept in and stole me away.
***
I awoke suddenly, my hands tied so tightly behind my back that I couldn’t feel my fingers. I felt sick and wanted to throw up. I quickly choked those feelings back down. I tried to shake my head, to clear it, but that just brought jolts of pain like electricity shooting through my skull. Nearby, I heard a gunshot, then another.
“Bring it, fuckers!” Lovebug screamed in an insane voice. The explosion of a grenade rocked the building, and I smelled choking black smoke. I opened my eyes, seeing three men in SWAT gear laying dead, their bodies scattered haphazardly around the chaotic scene. One wall of the church had blown outwards, the stone still sending out gray wisps of wavy smoke into the air. I looked at my partner, seeing he had a bullet hole in his left arm and another one in his stomach. He was bleeding heavily, but the adrenaline and insanity seemed to keep him afloat- for now, at least.
I saw something walking towards us from the stage. It looked like a small boy, but black shadows spiraled up around his chest and face, translucent and shimmering darkly. He looked about five or six, his skin pale and smooth. As Lovebug’s face grew slack and distant, the boy abruptly erupted into flames.
“Don’t kill me again, Dad,” the small boy whispered in a hoarse voice choked with pain. The flames rose from his head and skin, melting his flesh, blackening it. Drops of boiling fat dribbled off his nose and chin. “Don’t send me to the dark place again, Dad…” He continued creeping closer to Lovebug, moving like a lion stalking an antelope.
“I didn’t know!” Lovebug cried, his face going paler. Tears streamed from his eyes as the rifle trembled wildly in his shaking hands. For a long moment, he looked torn, the finger tightening on the trigger as sobs escaped his chattering lips.
“Kill it, Lovebug!” I screamed. “Don’t let it get to you!” But as he dropped the rifle and knelt before the small boy, I knew it was too late.
The shadows spun faster and faster around the burning, dying body of the boy. He gave a scream of soul-shattering agony, reaching out to a small hand towards Lovebug.
“Help me!” the boy cried. Lovebug hesitated before bringing an arm up to take the boy’s hand.
“I missed you, Robbie,” Lovebug said before his fingers brushed the boys. The boy lunged forward, grabbing Lovebug’s hand with an iron grip. I saw Lovebug’s eyes widen in shock and surprise. A moment later, I heard the bones in his hand grinding together before breaking with a sound like snapping tree branches. The boy’s eyes darkened into jet-black orbs, the melted lips splitting into a sadistic grin.
“I missed you, too,” the thing hissed as its right arm changed, melting and reforming into something black and blade-like. The insectile limb swung forward in a blur, coming straight at Lovebug’s heart. He gave a panicked squeal a moment before it hit, trying to pull away with all of his considerable strength, his face turning chalk-white as the shattered bones in his hands ground together.
I closed my eyes, rolling away, trying to undo the knots that held my hands in place. Lovebug must have been greatly outnumbered. He would never have let that man tie me up. I heard the sounds of tearing meat and crunching bone nearby. Lovebug’s final breaths gurgled through the air, but I still kept my eyes closed, not wanting to look.
I felt a small tickle on my wrists, then heard a little voice next to my ear.
“I’ll get you out of here,” Emma whispered. I waited a few moments, then I heard the ropes snap. I looked back, seeing her holding a piece of sharp, broken glass in one tiny hand. In her other, she had the car keys. I wondered how she had gotten them, the little pickpocket.
“Thank God,” I said, rubbing my wrists. I looked around for my rifle, seeing it was laying next to the body of one of the SWAT guys. I wondered who these men were. I crawled towards it slowly, not wanting to draw attention.
“Don’t move another step,” a voice growled behind me. I glanced back, seeing the small boy, his features morphing into those of a demon. Curving horns spiraled from his temples. His jet-black eyes stared down at me with hatred and coldness. “You’ll follow your friend who killed my servants. His soul will stay alive forever within my body, a sickly thing wrapped up in an eternal shriek.”
“Fuck you,” I cried, lunging for my rifle. Emma disappeared behind a pew, running on all fours without looking back. I spun as I hit the ground, turning the barrel towards the morphing face of the shape-shifter. Its jaw unhinged, a snake-like tongue flicking out as it flew through the air towards me. Hollow fangs dripping clear venom grew from its mouth in a heartbeat, elongating and sharpening before my very eyes.
I fired twice, the bullets entering through its mouth and coming out the back of its head. Its flesh disintegrated in an instant, the body turning into light, gray ashes that disappeared in the breeze. Breathing hard, I waited, wondering if it was all over.
I heard a rumbling far below me, as if an earthquake were starting. A moment later, the church floor exploded upwards, sharp rubble and splintered boards flying in every direction.
***
“It’s coming!” Emma screamed, running over and grabbing my hand. I lay there, shell-shocked and unmoving for a long moment. In hindsight, the girl was a natural born survivor with much sharper reflexes than me. It was likely the only reason she survived as long as she had.
“The Titan,” I whispered grimly, trying to pull myself up to my feet. But it was like trying to walk on a heaving, sinking ship. Parts of the floor collapsed down into a seemingly never-ending abyss beneath us.
Near the stage, I saw hundreds of long, pale arms pulling something bloated and monstrous out of the ground. It was a Titan, and no explanation can ever convey the true horror of that thing.
It looked like countless human corpses had been melted together, fused into a ball with sagging, boneless chests, deformed faces and millions of writhing maggots. It groaned and gurgled with many lungs, exhaling a rotting, sulfurous breeze that made me want to retch. A soft susurration of many pained, muttering voices continuously emanated from the Titan.
“Emma, run!” I screamed, but she was already sprinting back towards the front door of the church. I backpedaled, afraid to look away from the creeping monstrosity, the juggernaut of rotting flesh moving towards us.
I heard the Titan closing the distance as I sprinted through the front door. The abominations with the silver eyes still slunk around the gate, blocking the car. I raised the rifle, firing blindly at the creatures, careful not to hit the little girl.
“Go to the car!” I screamed at Emma, feeling around for the keys. As the abominations saw the Titan, those still alive scattered, moving in a blur back into the shadows and homes of this rotten place.
The Titan broke the front wall of the church, sending splinters of red stone flying in every direction like bullets. It groaned and gurgled faster, its sickly cries more insistent. I ran to the Mercedes, starting it up and pressing the accelerator to the floor. I pulled a U-turn, heading back to the border of the anomaly.
***
The engine roared, the car bucking like a wild stallion as it pressed me and Emma back into our seats. But the creeping Titan continued gaining speed behind us, and for a few seconds, I feared we would be crushed to death under its massive weight.
The anomaly shimmered ahead of us. I crashed through it at two hundred miles an hour, skidding wildly as the Mercedes hit the dirt road. I nearly flew into a tree. I managed to right it at the last second, pulling onto the paved street as the Titan broke through behind us.
It followed us out. It’s in the real world now.

“Before I met the Savior, I was a worthless piece of garbage, barely a human being,” Lovebug droned at the front of the enormous room. Lovebug was a monster of a man, two-hundred and fifty pounds of hard tattooed muscle. Like myself, he was a high-ranking member of the Church.
His flat gray eyes scanned the room with a fanatical gleam. I sat in the first row, watching and waiting. Followers of the Savior would tell their stories, how the Savior had reached down and lifted them out of sin and filth to bring them up to the divine. The bright fluorescent lights overhead droned on with a low hum. Thousands of men crammed together in seats or stood at the back of the room.
The Savior taught only two commandments: to murder is holy, and to die for the Savior is the highest bliss. An army of warriors followed the Savior, knights on a holy crusade, priests who wouldn’t hesitate to burn the foul bodies of any witches or demons we encountered. I thought of myself as a knight for the holy king, our Savior, the mouthpiece of the eternal.
“Now, it is like the hand of God has reached into my heart and loosened all the knots there, the knots of anxiety and fear and uncertainty.” He raised his black, military-style rifle into the air for emphasis. “I never realized the true nature of reality before- the fact that we are living in a simulation where the final battle of good versus evil is playing out before our very eyes. And I will be on the side of the good, until my dying breath. I will be on the side of the Savior and of God!”
The crowd roared and clapped. Men got to their feet, sweating heavily in the boiling hot conference room. I felt the surge of energy pass through me like a tidal wave, the pure confidence and iron will of truth. Lovebug lumbered down off the stage as the Savior came out from behind the red curtains, walking with the straight spine of a soldier. He wore a silky black robe that fluttered softly around him, the hood pulled back.
The Savior had horrific burns running the length of his body. His arms had melted folds of keloid scars visible all the way to the tips of his fingers. His scalp had also melted, and the Savior had no hair except for his eyelashes and eyebrows. But the fire that had nearly killed him had spared his face, an aristocratic visage with ferocious green eyes like those of a cat. That face seemed like it had been sculpted out of marble by DaVinci himself, the high cheekbones jutting out over a chin so sharp that it looked like it could have hammered nails into boards. He stared out at the crowd for a long moment, his gaze unblinking.
“The final battle has begun,” he said in a low voice, no more than a whisper. Yet, in the deathly silence of the hall, his words rang out loud and clear. “Those in charge of this illusory world know that we see them. We see them very well, how they hide behind the curtain. They control the world economy, the justice system. Every government, whether they call themselves communist, authoritarian or democratic, is no more than a puppet in their dancing fingers.
“When anyone tries to stand up and lead the masses of suffering people towards freedom from slavery, they are vilified by the mainstream media, brought up on false charges or killed, their bodies staged to look like a suicide. Look what they did to Jesus, and for what? For telling people to love God more than their rulers? And those who speak out today are also crucified, murdered in prisons or killed by their governments. Truth is the most precious commodity, after all. It is one that can only be purchased with blood.
“So what can we do? How can we fight against such evil?” There was a quiet muttering among the pale, frozen faces that stared up at the stage with adoration and love.
“We can fight it by using their own weapons against them!” the Savior said, his voice rising in speed and pitch. He raised his fisted hands to his chest, accentuating each syllable with a back and forth stab of his hands. “Fight fire with fire, and pay back blood with blood! The only thing these global terrorists understand is greater levels of force. We must show them death on a scale they have never before imagined.” I felt nervous as the Savior delivered his message. I saw other men shuffle anxiously in the crowded auditorium, most of them having high-caliber rifles slung around their shoulders.
I felt the rising violence and bloodlust in the air like electricity before a lightning storm. At that moment, I knew we would all have to fight before too long.
***
The Savior called me and Lovebug back to his office after the speech had ended, sending his squirrely assistant over to deliver the hand-written note in the Savior’s blocky, copperplate handwriting. For a long moment, I simply watched the crowd filtering out of the doors, heading back towards the complex where all the holy soldiers of the Savior lived. Feeling dissociated and light-headed, I followed behind the massive muscular form of Lovebug, the heavy weight of the M16 bouncing against my chest. We pushed through the blood-red velvet curtains, winding our way past stage equipment and down a hallway of pure marble.
Mystical paintings similar to those of Alex Grey covered both walls, showing the inside workings of the human body through art. It was as if the painter had X-ray vision and could see the heart chakra and the countless thin vessels that spiderwebbed up to the crown. But, unlike Alex Grey’s hopeful depictions of mysticism, these showed men and women being burned alive, crucified, decapitated or strangled. Dark colors composed the paintings: the dark blue of a suffocating face, the clotted red of an infected stab wound, the black of death. They captured the essence of struggle perfectly.
The Savior’s office had a thick mahogany door with silver engravings of leaves and vines running the length of it. At the top stood a single staring eye with twelve wavy tentacles emerging from the perimeter of it- the symbol of God, who the Savior had seen personally. God would sometimes speak through the mouth of the Savior, always during times of great tribulation or suffering. Lovebug knocked at the door. The Savior’s deep voice echoed out faintly.
“Come in.”
We entered slowly, the sprawling desk of the Savior filling half of the room. He sat in a comfortable chair behind it, reclining. On the walls behind him, he had pictures of Jesus, Saint Stephen, Gandhi, Hitler, Jim Jones, Shoko Asahara and others who he taught had fought against the world elites and been killed for it.
The Church of the Final Rapture was not a church in the conventional sense. The main teachings didn’t revolve around the divinity of Christ or the nature of original sin. What the Savior taught was far more profound- an illusory or simulated world where every single person could become their own Christ, could awaken to the truth and perform miracles, but only if they believed fully and followed the Savior.
“Sit down, please,” he said in his gravelly voice. “I have a mission I would like to discuss, and you two are the only ones competent and loyal enough to carry it out.”
***
“There is another anomaly spreading,” the Savior said, staring between me and Lovebug with his fanatical emerald eyes. “It is located in a rural part of the United States, in a town called-” he glanced down at the sheet of paper in front of him- “Frost Hollow. Supposedly, there are black-ops sites located nearby, secret alphabet agencies experimenting with magnetic distortion systems and creating rips in the fabric of spacetime with micro-wormholes.
“I don’t think it is much of a leap to say that the anomaly was likely started, either intentionally or unintentionally, by the government, as part of their research. The Cleaners would like to control that power, after all. They have been sending their men after it for years like sheep to the slaughter, expending billions of dollars researching it. If they and the US government end up being able to control the creation and spread of anomalies, they will use it to enslave the world. There is no question about it in my mind.” He leaned forwards towards us, his eyes growing cold.
“There is only one path forward I can see. We need to spread the anomaly, make it become unstable so the demons of Hell contained within it can spill out onto the real world. Perhaps it will awaken the downtrodden masses enough to begin the final revolution. We must fight terrorism with greater terrorism, and violence with greater levels of violence. For this mission, I am sending the two of you into Frost Hollow.
“Your job will be to find the Titan or Titans and lead them out to the border of the anomaly. These are horrendous beasts- indeed, the Church has seen them before. They are nearly impossible to kill. I want you two to go inside, bait it and have it follow you back to the edge, beyond the veil.”
“What’s a Titan?” Lovebug asked, his eyes flicking left and right nervously. The Savior stared at him stonily for a long moment. Then his eyes rolled back in his head, showing only the whites. All the blood seemed to drain from his face. His teeth chattered, his mouth opened, and through it, God spoke, the words pouring out like crashing stones. The voice did not sound anything like the Savior’s. It sounded much deeper, more mechanical, more alien somehow.
“I see you very well. I saw you when you were no more than a blood clot in your mother’s body. I see you even as corpses, rotted, putrefying, crawling with scavengers and insects. I see everything, every moment of time. But, in the anomaly, there are things I cannot see. For this, my holy ones must go forth.
“In the center of Hell, you will find a rose, a bird and a stone. These will be your salvation, if salvation can be found at all. Go with the blessing of Yaldabaoth.” The voice cut off abruptly, the silence deafening. I could hear my own heart pounding in my ears.
The Savior’s eyes came back down, looking confused and uncertain. His pupils were dilated and he was sweating heavily, even though it was cool and air-conditioned back here in his private office. We stared at each other across the table, a no-man’s land that protected me like a shield. For there seemed to be something dark in the Savior along with the light, and I didn’t know if any man could contain that power.
But there was no question of disobeying. Within the hour, Lovebug and I were on one of the Church’s private jets flying to the town of Frost Hollow.
***
The gently rolling hills of Frost Hollow loomed below us as the plane circled the small dirt airstrip in the middle of some cow farms. I looked up at Lovebug, trying to judge his stony expression. He had done many years in prison before joining the Church and finding salvation, even being the leader of one of the gangs. I knew he wasn’t afraid of violence. He had never told me what he did, what tortured him so much.
The Savior had told us much secret knowledge- how to find a Titan, a massive, bloated abomination that could come into being only within an anomaly, a combination of many rotted body pieces fused together in some sort of hellish black magic. The Savior had spies around Frost Hollow and the surrounding towns who had been monitoring the anomaly, watching the unstable gateways leading in and out and mapping them as best they could. We would be given a fast car, plenty of weapons and some body armor. I had no idea how nightmarish the journey would become, however.
“I’m driving,” Lovebug said as we descended the steps. A man in a black suit with the symbol of the eye and tentacles pinned on his black button-up shirt pulled up with a Mercedes AMG-One. It was a sleek, silver thing of immense luxury and power. The craftsmanship made it look like a work of art. I sighed, keeping my finger nervously on the trigger of my rifle as I glanced around the strange, empty town.
“If this thing won’t outrun a Titan, then nothing will,” I said, trying to break the tension. I looked at the speedometer, seeing it went up to 220 miles an hour.
“Damn fucking right,” Lovebug growled as we slid into the futuristic-looking leather seats. The engine turned on like a softly purring kitten. The GPS automatically turned on as well, the soft robotic voice leading us toward one of the more stable portals to the anomaly.
Lovebug sped down the empty forest roads of Frost Hollow, going twice the legal speed limit the entire way.
“The speed limit is only for the lowest common denominator,” Lovebug said pedantically, waggling a tattooed finger for emphasis. The GPS said we would reach the gateway to the anomaly in five minutes. Based on Lovebug’s speed, I thought it would be more like two. “Someone who actually knows how to drive and isn’t drunk or high can easily do 80 in a 40. Easily.” I glanced nervously at the speedometer, realizing he was going over 100 miles an hour now. The sports car hugged the tight corners of the winding forest roads with absolute precision.
“Turn right onto Snake Island Road Extension in five hundred feet,” the robotic female voice. Lovebug slammed on the brakes a few seconds later, the tires skidding and locking up. We looked around frantically, seeing no streets anywhere except the one we were on.
“What the hell?” Lovebug asked. The night was crawling in by now, the darkness covering the forests like a curtain. I squinted, looking at the thick grove of trees on our right, scanning it back and forth over and over. After a few seconds, I realized there was an overgrown dirt path there with no sign. It was nearly impossible to see at night, however, and calling it a road was somewhat of a joke.
“Oh, damn,” I said. “They should’ve given us an SUV.”
***
According to the GPS, our destination was only a thousand feet down Snake Island Road Extension. The low clearance of the Mercedes was a problem as Lovebug tried to navigate the flooded forest path. Deep tread marks flooded with black, stagnant water marked the entirety of Snake Island Road Extension. But ahead, the headlights illuminated something unusual.
Cutting straight across the trees and brush like a razorblade was a shimmering wall of translucent energy. It reminded me of a mirage, curving upwards in wavy spiral patterns. I could see through it easily, but it gave everything a dark, sinister covering. The forest seemed to be in constant motion as the grayish light distorted it.
“Look how huge it is!” I said in awe, staring up at the starry sky. The flat wall rose up seemingly forever, disappearing in the cold void of infinite space. Lovebug slowly ambled the car towards the anomaly, trying to keep the Mercedes from getting stuck with its low clearance.
“You ready for this, man?” Lovebug asked in a quavering voice as we inched towards the anomaly. It was only seconds away now. He grabbed my shoulder. “This is it. Remember the commandments.” I closed my eyes, concentrating my heart on the Savior’s words. Dying for the good is the highest bliss, he had told us.
“Let’s do this,” I said, my eyes flying open from my silent prayer as the hood passed through the anomaly. It disappeared in front of our eyes. We could see the forest on the other side, but the Mercedes looked like it was going through some sort of teleportation portal, being ripped apart layer by layer and sent somewhere else. Lovebug nervously grabbed my hand.
“For the Savior and for the Good,” he whispered as we passed through.
***
I heard screaming and wailing, full of agony and unimaginable horror, like the screams of those burning in Hell. My vision went white. A carpet of morphing dark colors covered everything as the shrieking intensified, until I thought my eardrums would explode.
“Stop!” I cried, feeling the pressure in my head like a splitting migraine. “Stop screaming!” I started kicking, punching, trying to get away.
“Calm the fuck down!” someone whispered, slapping me hard across the face. Stunned, I looked up, seeing Lovebug holding me down in the seat. He was covered in sweat, his face a blank mask of terror. “Don’t scream. There’s things outside that are looking this way.” I blinked fast, my senses coming back to me. I felt like a man waking up from surgery, confused and disoriented, my memories only returning in small trickles and drops.
We were sitting in the Mercedes on a road that looked like it had been made of human skin. The headlights showed the ragged patches of pale, leathery flesh sewn together with black thread. The road disappeared ahead of us in a straight line. The land here looked as flat as Kansas. Like a mirror world, it had houses and restaurants and churches lining both sides of the road, but they were all wrong.
The stone church looked like it was constructed of some kind of red volcanic rock. Baphomets and upside-down pentagrams covered the outer walls, engraved deeply into the glossy surface. Mutilated bodies covered the front lawn, impaled, crucified, skinned alive or burned at the stake. Hundreds of men, women and children lay dead in front of the Satanic temple.
Overhead, the sky bubbled and frothed with red clouds and constant explosions of blue lightning. Like missile flashes, the lightning illuminated the world around us, shining brightly before going dark. The incessant strobing gave the entire place a kind of circus freakshow vibe.
Many of the homes looked like they had been constructed from bones and covered in human skin, like some sort of hellish teepee. Arm and leg bones wrapped in razor-wire formed the pillars. Grinning skulls lined the top of the flat, rectangular roofs, thousands of bleached human heads staring down.
Staring out of the dark doorways, I saw gleaming, silvery eyes. They loomed eight or nine feet in the air on spidery bodies. Their limbs looked as thin as bones, jet-black and dull. The only color from these still revenants was from their unblinking eyes and grinning mouths, where teeth like those of a dragonfish jutted out. Every pair of eyes on that street was fixed intently on the Mercedes, the sick rictus grins on their alien faces never faltering.
“Jesus Christ, I’m sorry,” I whispered, feeling weak. “I thought I was in a nightmare for a minute there.” Lovebug shrugged his massive shoulders.
“Yeah, I felt it too, though I came out of it a lot faster than you did,” he said, glancing over at the Satanic church as we passed. It had protective black spikes rising high into the air all around it. The broken body of a child who had been burnt at the stake stood in front of the gates like a death omen, his small, withered hand holding a black rose. Lovebug choked, retching. He nearly rolled down the window, until his eyes met the silvery ones of a nearby abomination.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, looking closer at the church. On top of the roof, I saw an enormous statue of a black raven, its wings spread as if it were flying. It had three gleaming, silvery eyes embedded into the dark rock.
“That boy just reminds me of my son,” Lovebug whispered glumly, inching along the streets.
“I didn’t know you had a son,” I said, surprised. Lovebug had never mentioned a family. He shrugged.
“I don’t. Not anymore. I killed him. I got drunk and high one night back when I was selling drugs. Fell asleep in the living room with a lit cigarette and burned down the whole house. I killed my wife and son, burned them. They sent me to prison, but what did that matter? The prison up here is far worse.” He tapped the side of his temple.
I was about to say something, but at that moment, many things happened at once.
***
Lovebug was staring at the corpse of the child when an inhumanly long arm reached up from the side of the car. It had fingers like spikes, as sharp as a knife and twice as long as normal human fingers. I gasped, a warning shout welling up in my throat, but the hand came smashing down into the driver’s side window and grabbed Lovebug’s neck.
The window exploded in a shower of safety glass, shattering like brittle bones. Lovebug’s scream was cut off as he was dragged, kicking and screaming, out of the car. I swung open my door, leaping out and bringing my rifle around.
The Cheshire Cat grin of the abomination never faltered as it held Lovebug in front of its body like a human shield, holding him by the neck above the ground. Lovebug’s legs kicked and squirmed, his face turning blue as he slowly suffocated. His eyes bulged from their sockets, panicked and rolling, uncomprehending in their total animal panic.
I flicked on the laser sight. It danced over the ground, flashing over the body of Lovebug and the abomination. But I couldn’t aim for its torso or face, as I would probably hit Lovebug in the process. It was far too close.
I aimed for the monster’s thin, skeletal feet, the black toes twisting over each other like the roots of a tree. The gunshots rang out as a deafening counterpoint to the thunder blasts.
The monster gave a hissing gurgle as two bullets caught it in the right ankle. The creature seemed bloodless, and only dust and ashes rolled out of the exploded insectile flesh. It tried to skitter away, but its destroyed ankle caused it to fall forward, throwing Lovebug.
His body rolled across the road, the soft leather that looked like it was made from tens of thousands of human skins. Gasping, his lips still showing a faint blue cast, he struggled to crawl away.
I saw furtive movement from all around us. The creatures in the houses and doorways were moving forwards, drawn by the bloodshed or noise. Hundreds of glowing, silvery eyes surrounded us. I sprinted forward, dragging Lovebug to his feet.
“The church,” I hissed. “It’s the only place.” Still pulling the weak, confused Lovebug behind me, we staggered towards the black gates. They opened with a shriek of rusted metal.
***
The creatures stopped at the gates to the blood-red church, simply staring at us like statues. They didn’t even seem to breathe, their lidless eyes never blinking, the silvery glow never fading.
“I think this is the place we’re meant to go,” I whispered as we made our way towards the massive pointed doors. “When God spoke to us, he said something about a stone, a bird and a rose, that we would find the Titan through that.” I pointed back at the burnt body of the boy. “He’s holding a rose. On top of the building, there’s a bird. And the church is all stone. Maybe this is the place where God wanted us to go all along.”
“Maybe,” Lovebug muttered through heaving gasps, still grabbing at his bruised neck. “God, this hurts. It feels like I got hanged.” Side by side, we pushed open the doors to the Satanic church and walked inside.
***
Row after row of pews stretched out in front of us. Thousands of black candles were set up all around the perimeter of the enormous chamber. They sputtered and flickered constantly, throwing dancing shadows in every direction.
A small pair of bright eyes glanced up at us from under one of the nearby pews. I nearly jumped out of my skin, pointing the rifle at them and yelling.
“Show yourself! Come out now, or I shoot!” Lovebug looked at me, confused. He hadn’t seen it. But a few heartbeats later, a little girl crawled out, her eyes big and blue, her body an emaciated wreck. She wore ripped strands of what looked like leathery human skin to cover herself, tied together with black string. In one small, grime-streaked hand, she held a half-eaten raw mouse.
“Please, don’t kill me,” she said in a small voice. “I’m Emma. My mommy and daddy got dragged away and I’m scared.” I felt sick and weak looking at this small victim. I reached down and helped her up.
“I wouldn’t hurt you,” I said, kneeling down to her level. “I thought you were one of the bad guys. This is Lovebug, and I’m Jack.”
“This isn’t part of the mission, man,” Lovebug said nervously. “What are we supposed to do with her?”
“Well, we can’t just fucking leave her here,” I whispered back. “We need…” But I never got to finish that thought. Because, at that moment, the church woke up.
***
A red glow started at the front of the chamber, the altar where the priest would have stood and given speeches or holy communion. Here, they had a podium that looked like it was carved from a single block of obsidian. Reflected in it, I saw the screaming faces of people burning in Hell, grinning demons ripping off strips of human flesh and spiraling waves of flames, all sculpted by an artist who was able to capture the most miniscule details of agony and torture.
I looked around, realizing Emma had gone. I hadn’t seen her scurry away and hide, but her absence gave me a feeling of crushing dread in my chest.
“Lovebug, something’s wrong,” I whispered, still staring up at the altar. I heard a floorboard creak behind me. I glanced back just in time to see a man wearing full SWAT gear. I caught the flash of a pistol coming down, the butt aimed at my forehead. I heard the cracking, felt the immense pressure and pain. For a few moments, I swam in the currents of consciousness, trying to stay awake, but then the blackness crept in and stole me away.
***
I awoke suddenly, my hands tied so tightly behind my back that I couldn’t feel my fingers. I felt sick and wanted to throw up. I quickly choked those feelings back down. I tried to shake my head, to clear it, but that just brought jolts of pain like electricity shooting through my skull. Nearby, I heard a gunshot, then another.
“Bring it, fuckers!” Lovebug screamed in an insane voice. The explosion of a grenade rocked the building, and I smelled choking black smoke. I opened my eyes, seeing three men in SWAT gear laying dead, their bodies scattered haphazardly around the chaotic scene. One wall of the church had blown outwards, the stone still sending out gray wisps of wavy smoke into the air. I looked at my partner, seeing he had a bullet hole in his left arm and another one in his stomach. He was bleeding heavily, but the adrenaline and insanity seemed to keep him afloat- for now, at least.
I saw something walking towards us from the stage. It looked like a small boy, but black shadows spiraled up around his chest and face, translucent and shimmering darkly. He looked about five or six, his skin pale and smooth. As Lovebug’s face grew slack and distant, the boy abruptly erupted into flames.
“Don’t kill me again, Dad,” the small boy whispered in a hoarse voice choked with pain. The flames rose from his head and skin, melting his flesh, blackening it. Drops of boiling fat dribbled off his nose and chin. “Don’t send me to the dark place again, Dad…” He continued creeping closer to Lovebug, moving like a lion stalking an antelope.
“I didn’t know!” Lovebug cried, his face going paler. Tears streamed from his eyes as the rifle trembled wildly in his shaking hands. For a long moment, he looked torn, the finger tightening on the trigger as sobs escaped his chattering lips.
“Kill it, Lovebug!” I screamed. “Don’t let it get to you!” But as he dropped the rifle and knelt before the small boy, I knew it was too late.
The shadows spun faster and faster around the burning, dying body of the boy. He gave a scream of soul-shattering agony, reaching out to a small hand towards Lovebug.
“Help me!” the boy cried. Lovebug hesitated before bringing an arm up to take the boy’s hand.
“I missed you, Robbie,” Lovebug said before his fingers brushed the boys. The boy lunged forward, grabbing Lovebug’s hand with an iron grip. I saw Lovebug’s eyes widen in shock and surprise. A moment later, I heard the bones in his hand grinding together before breaking with a sound like snapping tree branches. The boy’s eyes darkened into jet-black orbs, the melted lips splitting into a sadistic grin.
“I missed you, too,” the thing hissed as its right arm changed, melting and reforming into something black and blade-like. The insectile limb swung forward in a blur, coming straight at Lovebug’s heart. He gave a panicked squeal a moment before it hit, trying to pull away with all of his considerable strength, his face turning chalk-white as the shattered bones in his hands ground together.
I closed my eyes, rolling away, trying to undo the knots that held my hands in place. Lovebug must have been greatly outnumbered. He would never have let that man tie me up. I heard the sounds of tearing meat and crunching bone nearby. Lovebug’s final breaths gurgled through the air, but I still kept my eyes closed, not wanting to look.
I felt a small tickle on my wrists, then heard a little voice next to my ear.
“I’ll get you out of here,” Emma whispered. I waited a few moments, then I heard the ropes snap. I looked back, seeing her holding a piece of sharp, broken glass in one tiny hand. In her other, she had the car keys. I wondered how she had gotten them, the little pickpocket.
“Thank God,” I said, rubbing my wrists. I looked around for my rifle, seeing it was laying next to the body of one of the SWAT guys. I wondered who these men were. I crawled towards it slowly, not wanting to draw attention.
“Don’t move another step,” a voice growled behind me. I glanced back, seeing the small boy, his features morphing into those of a demon. Curving horns spiraled from his temples. His jet-black eyes stared down at me with hatred and coldness. “You’ll follow your friend who killed my servants. His soul will stay alive forever within my body, a sickly thing wrapped up in an eternal shriek.”
“Fuck you,” I cried, lunging for my rifle. Emma disappeared behind a pew, running on all fours without looking back. I spun as I hit the ground, turning the barrel towards the morphing face of the shape-shifter. Its jaw unhinged, a snake-like tongue flicking out as it flew through the air towards me. Hollow fangs dripping clear venom grew from its mouth in a heartbeat, elongating and sharpening before my very eyes.
I fired twice, the bullets entering through its mouth and coming out the back of its head. Its flesh disintegrated in an instant, the body turning into light, gray ashes that disappeared in the breeze. Breathing hard, I waited, wondering if it was all over.
I heard a rumbling far below me, as if an earthquake were starting. A moment later, the church floor exploded upwards, sharp rubble and splintered boards flying in every direction.
***
“It’s coming!” Emma screamed, running over and grabbing my hand. I lay there, shell-shocked and unmoving for a long moment. In hindsight, the girl was a natural born survivor with much sharper reflexes than me. It was likely the only reason she survived as long as she had.
“The Titan,” I whispered grimly, trying to pull myself up to my feet. But it was like trying to walk on a heaving, sinking ship. Parts of the floor collapsed down into a seemingly never-ending abyss beneath us.
Near the stage, I saw hundreds of long, pale arms pulling something bloated and monstrous out of the ground. It was a Titan, and no explanation can ever convey the true horror of that thing.
It looked like countless human corpses had been melted together, fused into a ball with sagging, boneless chests, deformed faces and millions of writhing maggots. It groaned and gurgled with many lungs, exhaling a rotting, sulfurous breeze that made me want to retch. A soft susurration of many pained, muttering voices continuously emanated from the Titan.
“Emma, run!” I screamed, but she was already sprinting back towards the front door of the church. I backpedaled, afraid to look away from the creeping monstrosity, the juggernaut of rotting flesh moving towards us.
I heard the Titan closing the distance as I sprinted through the front door. The abominations with the silver eyes still slunk around the gate, blocking the car. I raised the rifle, firing blindly at the creatures, careful not to hit the little girl.
“Go to the car!” I screamed at Emma, feeling around for the keys. As the abominations saw the Titan, those still alive scattered, moving in a blur back into the shadows and homes of this rotten place.
The Titan broke the front wall of the church, sending splinters of red stone flying in every direction like bullets. It groaned and gurgled faster, its sickly cries more insistent. I ran to the Mercedes, starting it up and pressing the accelerator to the floor. I pulled a U-turn, heading back to the border of the anomaly.
***
The engine roared, the car bucking like a wild stallion as it pressed me and Emma back into our seats. But the creeping Titan continued gaining speed behind us, and for a few seconds, I feared we would be crushed to death under its massive weight.
The anomaly shimmered ahead of us. I crashed through it at two hundred miles an hour, skidding wildly as the Mercedes hit the dirt road. I nearly flew into a tree. I managed to right it at the last second, pulling onto the paved street as the Titan broke through behind us.
It followed us out. It’s in the real world now.

“Before I met the Savior, I was a worthless piece of garbage, barely a human being,” Lovebug droned at the front of the enormous room. Lovebug was a monster of a man, two-hundred and fifty pounds of hard tattooed muscle. Like myself, he was a high-ranking member of the Church.
His flat gray eyes scanned the room with a fanatical gleam. I sat in the first row, watching and waiting. Followers of the Savior would tell their stories, how the Savior had reached down and lifted them out of sin and filth to bring them up to the divine. The bright fluorescent lights overhead droned on with a low hum. Thousands of men crammed together in seats or stood at the back of the room.
The Savior taught only two commandments: to murder is holy, and to die for the Savior is the highest bliss. An army of warriors followed the Savior, knights on a holy crusade, priests who wouldn’t hesitate to burn the foul bodies of any witches or demons we encountered. I thought of myself as a knight for the holy king, our Savior, the mouthpiece of the eternal.
“Now, it is like the hand of God has reached into my heart and loosened all the knots there, the knots of anxiety and fear and uncertainty.” He raised his black, military-style rifle into the air for emphasis. “I never realized the true nature of reality before- the fact that we are living in a simulation where the final battle of good versus evil is playing out before our very eyes. And I will be on the side of the good, until my dying breath. I will be on the side of the Savior and of God!”
The crowd roared and clapped. Men got to their feet, sweating heavily in the boiling hot conference room. I felt the surge of energy pass through me like a tidal wave, the pure confidence and iron will of truth. Lovebug lumbered down off the stage as the Savior came out from behind the red curtains, walking with the straight spine of a soldier. He wore a silky black robe that fluttered softly around him, the hood pulled back.
The Savior had horrific burns running the length of his body. His arms had melted folds of keloid scars visible all the way to the tips of his fingers. His scalp had also melted, and the Savior had no hair except for his eyelashes and eyebrows. But the fire that had nearly killed him had spared his face, an aristocratic visage with ferocious green eyes like those of a cat. That face seemed like it had been sculpted out of marble by DaVinci himself, the high cheekbones jutting out over a chin so sharp that it looked like it could have hammered nails into boards. He stared out at the crowd for a long moment, his gaze unblinking.
“The final battle has begun,” he said in a low voice, no more than a whisper. Yet, in the deathly silence of the hall, his words rang out loud and clear. “Those in charge of this illusory world know that we see them. We see them very well, how they hide behind the curtain. They control the world economy, the justice system. Every government, whether they call themselves communist, authoritarian or democratic, is no more than a puppet in their dancing fingers.
“When anyone tries to stand up and lead the masses of suffering people towards freedom from slavery, they are vilified by the mainstream media, brought up on false charges or killed, their bodies staged to look like a suicide. Look what they did to Jesus, and for what? For telling people to love God more than their rulers? And those who speak out today are also crucified, murdered in prisons or killed by their governments. Truth is the most precious commodity, after all. It is one that can only be purchased with blood.
“So what can we do? How can we fight against such evil?” There was a quiet muttering among the pale, frozen faces that stared up at the stage with adoration and love.
“We can fight it by using their own weapons against them!” the Savior said, his voice rising in speed and pitch. He raised his fisted hands to his chest, accentuating each syllable with a back and forth stab of his hands. “Fight fire with fire, and pay back blood with blood! The only thing these global terrorists understand is greater levels of force. We must show them death on a scale they have never before imagined.” I felt nervous as the Savior delivered his message. I saw other men shuffle anxiously in the crowded auditorium, most of them having high-caliber rifles slung around their shoulders.
I felt the rising violence and bloodlust in the air like electricity before a lightning storm. At that moment, I knew we would all have to fight before too long.
***
The Savior called me and Lovebug back to his office after the speech had ended, sending his squirrely assistant over to deliver the hand-written note in the Savior’s blocky, copperplate handwriting. For a long moment, I simply watched the crowd filtering out of the doors, heading back towards the complex where all the holy soldiers of the Savior lived. Feeling dissociated and light-headed, I followed behind the massive muscular form of Lovebug, the heavy weight of the M16 bouncing against my chest. We pushed through the blood-red velvet curtains, winding our way past stage equipment and down a hallway of pure marble.
Mystical paintings similar to those of Alex Grey covered both walls, showing the inside workings of the human body through art. It was as if the painter had X-ray vision and could see the heart chakra and the countless thin vessels that spiderwebbed up to the crown. But, unlike Alex Grey’s hopeful depictions of mysticism, these showed men and women being burned alive, crucified, decapitated or strangled. Dark colors composed the paintings: the dark blue of a suffocating face, the clotted red of an infected stab wound, the black of death. They captured the essence of struggle perfectly.
The Savior’s office had a thick mahogany door with silver engravings of leaves and vines running the length of it. At the top stood a single staring eye with twelve wavy tentacles emerging from the perimeter of it- the symbol of God, who the Savior had seen personally. God would sometimes speak through the mouth of the Savior, always during times of great tribulation or suffering. Lovebug knocked at the door. The Savior’s deep voice echoed out faintly.
“Come in.”
We entered slowly, the sprawling desk of the Savior filling half of the room. He sat in a comfortable chair behind it, reclining. On the walls behind him, he had pictures of Jesus, Saint Stephen, Gandhi, Hitler, Jim Jones, Shoko Asahara and others who he taught had fought against the world elites and been killed for it.
The Church of the Final Rapture was not a church in the conventional sense. The main teachings didn’t revolve around the divinity of Christ or the nature of original sin. What the Savior taught was far more profound- an illusory or simulated world where every single person could become their own Christ, could awaken to the truth and perform miracles, but only if they believed fully and followed the Savior.
“Sit down, please,” he said in his gravelly voice. “I have a mission I would like to discuss, and you two are the only ones competent and loyal enough to carry it out.”
***
“There is another anomaly spreading,” the Savior said, staring between me and Lovebug with his fanatical emerald eyes. “It is located in a rural part of the United States, in a town called-” he glanced down at the sheet of paper in front of him- “Frost Hollow. Supposedly, there are black-ops sites located nearby, secret alphabet agencies experimenting with magnetic distortion systems and creating rips in the fabric of spacetime with micro-wormholes.
“I don’t think it is much of a leap to say that the anomaly was likely started, either intentionally or unintentionally, by the government, as part of their research. The Cleaners would like to control that power, after all. They have been sending their men after it for years like sheep to the slaughter, expending billions of dollars researching it. If they and the US government end up being able to control the creation and spread of anomalies, they will use it to enslave the world. There is no question about it in my mind.” He leaned forwards towards us, his eyes growing cold.
“There is only one path forward I can see. We need to spread the anomaly, make it become unstable so the demons of Hell contained within it can spill out onto the real world. Perhaps it will awaken the downtrodden masses enough to begin the final revolution. We must fight terrorism with greater terrorism, and violence with greater levels of violence. For this mission, I am sending the two of you into Frost Hollow.
“Your job will be to find the Titan or Titans and lead them out to the border of the anomaly. These are horrendous beasts- indeed, the Church has seen them before. They are nearly impossible to kill. I want you two to go inside, bait it and have it follow you back to the edge, beyond the veil.”
“What’s a Titan?” Lovebug asked, his eyes flicking left and right nervously. The Savior stared at him stonily for a long moment. Then his eyes rolled back in his head, showing only the whites. All the blood seemed to drain from his face. His teeth chattered, his mouth opened, and through it, God spoke, the words pouring out like crashing stones. The voice did not sound anything like the Savior’s. It sounded much deeper, more mechanical, more alien somehow.
“I see you very well. I saw you when you were no more than a blood clot in your mother’s body. I see you even as corpses, rotted, putrefying, crawling with scavengers and insects. I see everything, every moment of time. But, in the anomaly, there are things I cannot see. For this, my holy ones must go forth.
“In the center of Hell, you will find a rose, a bird and a stone. These will be your salvation, if salvation can be found at all. Go with the blessing of Yaldabaoth.” The voice cut off abruptly, the silence deafening. I could hear my own heart pounding in my ears.
The Savior’s eyes came back down, looking confused and uncertain. His pupils were dilated and he was sweating heavily, even though it was cool and air-conditioned back here in his private office. We stared at each other across the table, a no-man’s land that protected me like a shield. For there seemed to be something dark in the Savior along with the light, and I didn’t know if any man could contain that power.
But there was no question of disobeying. Within the hour, Lovebug and I were on one of the Church’s private jets flying to the town of Frost Hollow.
***
The gently rolling hills of Frost Hollow loomed below us as the plane circled the small dirt airstrip in the middle of some cow farms. I looked up at Lovebug, trying to judge his stony expression. He had done many years in prison before joining the Church and finding salvation, even being the leader of one of the gangs. I knew he wasn’t afraid of violence. He had never told me what he did, what tortured him so much.
The Savior had told us much secret knowledge- how to find a Titan, a massive, bloated abomination that could come into being only within an anomaly, a combination of many rotted body pieces fused together in some sort of hellish black magic. The Savior had spies around Frost Hollow and the surrounding towns who had been monitoring the anomaly, watching the unstable gateways leading in and out and mapping them as best they could. We would be given a fast car, plenty of weapons and some body armor. I had no idea how nightmarish the journey would become, however.
“I’m driving,” Lovebug said as we descended the steps. A man in a black suit with the symbol of the eye and tentacles pinned on his black button-up shirt pulled up with a Mercedes AMG-One. It was a sleek, silver thing of immense luxury and power. The craftsmanship made it look like a work of art. I sighed, keeping my finger nervously on the trigger of my rifle as I glanced around the strange, empty town.
“If this thing won’t outrun a Titan, then nothing will,” I said, trying to break the tension. I looked at the speedometer, seeing it went up to 220 miles an hour.
“Damn fucking right,” Lovebug growled as we slid into the futuristic-looking leather seats. The engine turned on like a softly purring kitten. The GPS automatically turned on as well, the soft robotic voice leading us toward one of the more stable portals to the anomaly.
Lovebug sped down the empty forest roads of Frost Hollow, going twice the legal speed limit the entire way.
“The speed limit is only for the lowest common denominator,” Lovebug said pedantically, waggling a tattooed finger for emphasis. The GPS said we would reach the gateway to the anomaly in five minutes. Based on Lovebug’s speed, I thought it would be more like two. “Someone who actually knows how to drive and isn’t drunk or high can easily do 80 in a 40. Easily.” I glanced nervously at the speedometer, realizing he was going over 100 miles an hour now. The sports car hugged the tight corners of the winding forest roads with absolute precision.
“Turn right onto Snake Island Road Extension in five hundred feet,” the robotic female voice. Lovebug slammed on the brakes a few seconds later, the tires skidding and locking up. We looked around frantically, seeing no streets anywhere except the one we were on.
“What the hell?” Lovebug asked. The night was crawling in by now, the darkness covering the forests like a curtain. I squinted, looking at the thick grove of trees on our right, scanning it back and forth over and over. After a few seconds, I realized there was an overgrown dirt path there with no sign. It was nearly impossible to see at night, however, and calling it a road was somewhat of a joke.
“Oh, damn,” I said. “They should’ve given us an SUV.”
***
According to the GPS, our destination was only a thousand feet down Snake Island Road Extension. The low clearance of the Mercedes was a problem as Lovebug tried to navigate the flooded forest path. Deep tread marks flooded with black, stagnant water marked the entirety of Snake Island Road Extension. But ahead, the headlights illuminated something unusual.
Cutting straight across the trees and brush like a razorblade was a shimmering wall of translucent energy. It reminded me of a mirage, curving upwards in wavy spiral patterns. I could see through it easily, but it gave everything a dark, sinister covering. The forest seemed to be in constant motion as the grayish light distorted it.
“Look how huge it is!” I said in awe, staring up at the starry sky. The flat wall rose up seemingly forever, disappearing in the cold void of infinite space. Lovebug slowly ambled the car towards the anomaly, trying to keep the Mercedes from getting stuck with its low clearance.
“You ready for this, man?” Lovebug asked in a quavering voice as we inched towards the anomaly. It was only seconds away now. He grabbed my shoulder. “This is it. Remember the commandments.” I closed my eyes, concentrating my heart on the Savior’s words. Dying for the good is the highest bliss, he had told us.
“Let’s do this,” I said, my eyes flying open from my silent prayer as the hood passed through the anomaly. It disappeared in front of our eyes. We could see the forest on the other side, but the Mercedes looked like it was going through some sort of teleportation portal, being ripped apart layer by layer and sent somewhere else. Lovebug nervously grabbed my hand.
“For the Savior and for the Good,” he whispered as we passed through.
***
I heard screaming and wailing, full of agony and unimaginable horror, like the screams of those burning in Hell. My vision went white. A carpet of morphing dark colors covered everything as the shrieking intensified, until I thought my eardrums would explode.
“Stop!” I cried, feeling the pressure in my head like a splitting migraine. “Stop screaming!” I started kicking, punching, trying to get away.
“Calm the fuck down!” someone whispered, slapping me hard across the face. Stunned, I looked up, seeing Lovebug holding me down in the seat. He was covered in sweat, his face a blank mask of terror. “Don’t scream. There’s things outside that are looking this way.” I blinked fast, my senses coming back to me. I felt like a man waking up from surgery, confused and disoriented, my memories only returning in small trickles and drops.
We were sitting in the Mercedes on a road that looked like it had been made of human skin. The headlights showed the ragged patches of pale, leathery flesh sewn together with black thread. The road disappeared ahead of us in a straight line. The land here looked as flat as Kansas. Like a mirror world, it had houses and restaurants and churches lining both sides of the road, but they were all wrong.
The stone church looked like it was constructed of some kind of red volcanic rock. Baphomets and upside-down pentagrams covered the outer walls, engraved deeply into the glossy surface. Mutilated bodies covered the front lawn, impaled, crucified, skinned alive or burned at the stake. Hundreds of men, women and children lay dead in front of the Satanic temple.
Overhead, the sky bubbled and frothed with red clouds and constant explosions of blue lightning. Like missile flashes, the lightning illuminated the world around us, shining brightly before going dark. The incessant strobing gave the entire place a kind of circus freakshow vibe.
Many of the homes looked like they had been constructed from bones and covered in human skin, like some sort of hellish teepee. Arm and leg bones wrapped in razor-wire formed the pillars. Grinning skulls lined the top of the flat, rectangular roofs, thousands of bleached human heads staring down.
Staring out of the dark doorways, I saw gleaming, silvery eyes. They loomed eight or nine feet in the air on spidery bodies. Their limbs looked as thin as bones, jet-black and dull. The only color from these still revenants was from their unblinking eyes and grinning mouths, where teeth like those of a dragonfish jutted out. Every pair of eyes on that street was fixed intently on the Mercedes, the sick rictus grins on their alien faces never faltering.
“Jesus Christ, I’m sorry,” I whispered, feeling weak. “I thought I was in a nightmare for a minute there.” Lovebug shrugged his massive shoulders.
“Yeah, I felt it too, though I came out of it a lot faster than you did,” he said, glancing over at the Satanic church as we passed. It had protective black spikes rising high into the air all around it. The broken body of a child who had been burnt at the stake stood in front of the gates like a death omen, his small, withered hand holding a black rose. Lovebug choked, retching. He nearly rolled down the window, until his eyes met the silvery ones of a nearby abomination.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, looking closer at the church. On top of the roof, I saw an enormous statue of a black raven, its wings spread as if it were flying. It had three gleaming, silvery eyes embedded into the dark rock.
“That boy just reminds me of my son,” Lovebug whispered glumly, inching along the streets.
“I didn’t know you had a son,” I said, surprised. Lovebug had never mentioned a family. He shrugged.
“I don’t. Not anymore. I killed him. I got drunk and high one night back when I was selling drugs. Fell asleep in the living room with a lit cigarette and burned down the whole house. I killed my wife and son, burned them. They sent me to prison, but what did that matter? The prison up here is far worse.” He tapped the side of his temple.
I was about to say something, but at that moment, many things happened at once.
***
Lovebug was staring at the corpse of the child when an inhumanly long arm reached up from the side of the car. It had fingers like spikes, as sharp as a knife and twice as long as normal human fingers. I gasped, a warning shout welling up in my throat, but the hand came smashing down into the driver’s side window and grabbed Lovebug’s neck.
The window exploded in a shower of safety glass, shattering like brittle bones. Lovebug’s scream was cut off as he was dragged, kicking and screaming, out of the car. I swung open my door, leaping out and bringing my rifle around.
The Cheshire Cat grin of the abomination never faltered as it held Lovebug in front of its body like a human shield, holding him by the neck above the ground. Lovebug’s legs kicked and squirmed, his face turning blue as he slowly suffocated. His eyes bulged from their sockets, panicked and rolling, uncomprehending in their total animal panic.
I flicked on the laser sight. It danced over the ground, flashing over the body of Lovebug and the abomination. But I couldn’t aim for its torso or face, as I would probably hit Lovebug in the process. It was far too close.
I aimed for the monster’s thin, skeletal feet, the black toes twisting over each other like the roots of a tree. The gunshots rang out as a deafening counterpoint to the thunder blasts.
The monster gave a hissing gurgle as two bullets caught it in the right ankle. The creature seemed bloodless, and only dust and ashes rolled out of the exploded insectile flesh. It tried to skitter away, but its destroyed ankle caused it to fall forward, throwing Lovebug.
His body rolled across the road, the soft leather that looked like it was made from tens of thousands of human skins. Gasping, his lips still showing a faint blue cast, he struggled to crawl away.
I saw furtive movement from all around us. The creatures in the houses and doorways were moving forwards, drawn by the bloodshed or noise. Hundreds of glowing, silvery eyes surrounded us. I sprinted forward, dragging Lovebug to his feet.
“The church,” I hissed. “It’s the only place.” Still pulling the weak, confused Lovebug behind me, we staggered towards the black gates. They opened with a shriek of rusted metal.
***
The creatures stopped at the gates to the blood-red church, simply staring at us like statues. They didn’t even seem to breathe, their lidless eyes never blinking, the silvery glow never fading.
“I think this is the place we’re meant to go,” I whispered as we made our way towards the massive pointed doors. “When God spoke to us, he said something about a stone, a bird and a rose, that we would find the Titan through that.” I pointed back at the burnt body of the boy. “He’s holding a rose. On top of the building, there’s a bird. And the church is all stone. Maybe this is the place where God wanted us to go all along.”
“Maybe,” Lovebug muttered through heaving gasps, still grabbing at his bruised neck. “God, this hurts. It feels like I got hanged.” Side by side, we pushed open the doors to the Satanic church and walked inside.
***
Row after row of pews stretched out in front of us. Thousands of black candles were set up all around the perimeter of the enormous chamber. They sputtered and flickered constantly, throwing dancing shadows in every direction.
A small pair of bright eyes glanced up at us from under one of the nearby pews. I nearly jumped out of my skin, pointing the rifle at them and yelling.
“Show yourself! Come out now, or I shoot!” Lovebug looked at me, confused. He hadn’t seen it. But a few heartbeats later, a little girl crawled out, her eyes big and blue, her body an emaciated wreck. She wore ripped strands of what looked like leathery human skin to cover herself, tied together with black string. In one small, grime-streaked hand, she held a half-eaten raw mouse.
“Please, don’t kill me,” she said in a small voice. “I’m Emma. My mommy and daddy got dragged away and I’m scared.” I felt sick and weak looking at this small victim. I reached down and helped her up.
“I wouldn’t hurt you,” I said, kneeling down to her level. “I thought you were one of the bad guys. This is Lovebug, and I’m Jack.”
“This isn’t part of the mission, man,” Lovebug said nervously. “What are we supposed to do with her?”
“Well, we can’t just fucking leave her here,” I whispered back. “We need…” But I never got to finish that thought. Because, at that moment, the church woke up.
***
A red glow started at the front of the chamber, the altar where the priest would have stood and given speeches or holy communion. Here, they had a podium that looked like it was carved from a single block of obsidian. Reflected in it, I saw the screaming faces of people burning in Hell, grinning demons ripping off strips of human flesh and spiraling waves of flames, all sculpted by an artist who was able to capture the most miniscule details of agony and torture.
I looked around, realizing Emma had gone. I hadn’t seen her scurry away and hide, but her absence gave me a feeling of crushing dread in my chest.
“Lovebug, something’s wrong,” I whispered, still staring up at the altar. I heard a floorboard creak behind me. I glanced back just in time to see a man wearing full SWAT gear. I caught the flash of a pistol coming down, the butt aimed at my forehead. I heard the cracking, felt the immense pressure and pain. For a few moments, I swam in the currents of consciousness, trying to stay awake, but then the blackness crept in and stole me away.
***
I awoke suddenly, my hands tied so tightly behind my back that I couldn’t feel my fingers. I felt sick and wanted to throw up. I quickly choked those feelings back down. I tried to shake my head, to clear it, but that just brought jolts of pain like electricity shooting through my skull. Nearby, I heard a gunshot, then another.
“Bring it, fuckers!” Lovebug screamed in an insane voice. The explosion of a grenade rocked the building, and I smelled choking black smoke. I opened my eyes, seeing three men in SWAT gear laying dead, their bodies scattered haphazardly around the chaotic scene. One wall of the church had blown outwards, the stone still sending out gray wisps of wavy smoke into the air. I looked at my partner, seeing he had a bullet hole in his left arm and another one in his stomach. He was bleeding heavily, but the adrenaline and insanity seemed to keep him afloat- for now, at least.
I saw something walking towards us from the stage. It looked like a small boy, but black shadows spiraled up around his chest and face, translucent and shimmering darkly. He looked about five or six, his skin pale and smooth. As Lovebug’s face grew slack and distant, the boy abruptly erupted into flames.
“Don’t kill me again, Dad,” the small boy whispered in a hoarse voice choked with pain. The flames rose from his head and skin, melting his flesh, blackening it. Drops of boiling fat dribbled off his nose and chin. “Don’t send me to the dark place again, Dad…” He continued creeping closer to Lovebug, moving like a lion stalking an antelope.
“I didn’t know!” Lovebug cried, his face going paler. Tears streamed from his eyes as the rifle trembled wildly in his shaking hands. For a long moment, he looked torn, the finger tightening on the trigger as sobs escaped his chattering lips.
“Kill it, Lovebug!” I screamed. “Don’t let it get to you!” But as he dropped the rifle and knelt before the small boy, I knew it was too late.
The shadows spun faster and faster around the burning, dying body of the boy. He gave a scream of soul-shattering agony, reaching out to a small hand towards Lovebug.
“Help me!” the boy cried. Lovebug hesitated before bringing an arm up to take the boy’s hand.
“I missed you, Robbie,” Lovebug said before his fingers brushed the boys. The boy lunged forward, grabbing Lovebug’s hand with an iron grip. I saw Lovebug’s eyes widen in shock and surprise. A moment later, I heard the bones in his hand grinding together before breaking with a sound like snapping tree branches. The boy’s eyes darkened into jet-black orbs, the melted lips splitting into a sadistic grin.
“I missed you, too,” the thing hissed as its right arm changed, melting and reforming into something black and blade-like. The insectile limb swung forward in a blur, coming straight at Lovebug’s heart. He gave a panicked squeal a moment before it hit, trying to pull away with all of his considerable strength, his face turning chalk-white as the shattered bones in his hands ground together.
I closed my eyes, rolling away, trying to undo the knots that held my hands in place. Lovebug must have been greatly outnumbered. He would never have let that man tie me up. I heard the sounds of tearing meat and crunching bone nearby. Lovebug’s final breaths gurgled through the air, but I still kept my eyes closed, not wanting to look.
I felt a small tickle on my wrists, then heard a little voice next to my ear.
“I’ll get you out of here,” Emma whispered. I waited a few moments, then I heard the ropes snap. I looked back, seeing her holding a piece of sharp, broken glass in one tiny hand. In her other, she had the car keys. I wondered how she had gotten them, the little pickpocket.
“Thank God,” I said, rubbing my wrists. I looked around for my rifle, seeing it was laying next to the body of one of the SWAT guys. I wondered who these men were. I crawled towards it slowly, not wanting to draw attention.
“Don’t move another step,” a voice growled behind me. I glanced back, seeing the small boy, his features morphing into those of a demon. Curving horns spiraled from his temples. His jet-black eyes stared down at me with hatred and coldness. “You’ll follow your friend who killed my servants. His soul will stay alive forever within my body, a sickly thing wrapped up in an eternal shriek.”
“Fuck you,” I cried, lunging for my rifle. Emma disappeared behind a pew, running on all fours without looking back. I spun as I hit the ground, turning the barrel towards the morphing face of the shape-shifter. Its jaw unhinged, a snake-like tongue flicking out as it flew through the air towards me. Hollow fangs dripping clear venom grew from its mouth in a heartbeat, elongating and sharpening before my very eyes.
I fired twice, the bullets entering through its mouth and coming out the back of its head. Its flesh disintegrated in an instant, the body turning into light, gray ashes that disappeared in the breeze. Breathing hard, I waited, wondering if it was all over.
I heard a rumbling far below me, as if an earthquake were starting. A moment later, the church floor exploded upwards, sharp rubble and splintered boards flying in every direction.
***
“It’s coming!” Emma screamed, running over and grabbing my hand. I lay there, shell-shocked and unmoving for a long moment. In hindsight, the girl was a natural born survivor with much sharper reflexes than me. It was likely the only reason she survived as long as she had.
“The Titan,” I whispered grimly, trying to pull myself up to my feet. But it was like trying to walk on a heaving, sinking ship. Parts of the floor collapsed down into a seemingly never-ending abyss beneath us.
Near the stage, I saw hundreds of long, pale arms pulling something bloated and monstrous out of the ground. It was a Titan, and no explanation can ever convey the true horror of that thing.
It looked like countless human corpses had been melted together, fused into a ball with sagging, boneless chests, deformed faces and millions of writhing maggots. It groaned and gurgled with many lungs, exhaling a rotting, sulfurous breeze that made me want to retch. A soft susurration of many pained, muttering voices continuously emanated from the Titan.
“Emma, run!” I screamed, but she was already sprinting back towards the front door of the church. I backpedaled, afraid to look away from the creeping monstrosity, the juggernaut of rotting flesh moving towards us.
I heard the Titan closing the distance as I sprinted through the front door. The abominations with the silver eyes still slunk around the gate, blocking the car. I raised the rifle, firing blindly at the creatures, careful not to hit the little girl.
“Go to the car!” I screamed at Emma, feeling around for the keys. As the abominations saw the Titan, those still alive scattered, moving in a blur back into the shadows and homes of this rotten place.
The Titan broke the front wall of the church, sending splinters of red stone flying in every direction like bullets. It groaned and gurgled faster, its sickly cries more insistent. I ran to the Mercedes, starting it up and pressing the accelerator to the floor. I pulled a U-turn, heading back to the border of the anomaly.
***
The engine roared, the car bucking like a wild stallion as it pressed me and Emma back into our seats. But the creeping Titan continued gaining speed behind us, and for a few seconds, I feared we would be crushed to death under its massive weight.
The anomaly shimmered ahead of us. I crashed through it at two hundred miles an hour, skidding wildly as the Mercedes hit the dirt road. I nearly flew into a tree. I managed to right it at the last second, pulling onto the paved street as the Titan broke through behind us.
It followed us out. It’s in the real world now.