Updated with autopsy results.
Morphew Case Map - Google My Maps - Barry's iPhone Data - Google My Maps - Barry's Truck Events - Google My Maps
August 5, 1994 – Suzanne Moorman marries Barry Morphew The Alexandria Times-Tribune Alexandria, Indiana 05 Jan 1994, Wed • Page 4
December 1999 – Barry and Suzanne Purchase 26040 Cal Carson Rd, Arcadia, IN This is the house where he dug a hole in the yard and buried everything he didn't want to move to Colorado. (AA ft 55 page 53)
November 2013 – Suzanne Inherits $208,000 upon the Passing of her Mother. MB provided documents that Suzanne inherited approximately $208,000 in 2013 at the passing of her mother.
August 2016 – Suzanne inherits $217,000 upon the death of a grandmother. Suzanne’s grievance list included multiple references to Barry controlling the finances.
April 12, 2018 – The Morphew’s Purchase 19057 Puma Path Barry and Suzanne Morphew purchase 19057 Puma Path for $1,575,000.
June 1, 2018 – The Morphews move to Colorado. (PH – Harris) SA Harris: Yeah, they moved in 2018. I believe they left around June 1st, 2018. to move to Colorado. So roughly a year and a half of the time is what Sheila originally said in that.
September 2018 – Suzanne sends “Howdy stranger” message to JL First contact since high school.
Fall 2018 – Libler’s daughter sees messages from Suzanne on his phone. Libler breaks it off.
Thanksgiving 2018 – Barry obsessive/possessive. While Suzanne was at the Oliver’s house, she had stepped away from her cell phone to use the restroom, and Barry tried calling her several times within a few minutes, then tried calling Sheila, then tried calling Darin.
Holidays 2018 – Suzanne finds Libler’s LinkedIn Page. Relationship Rekindled
January 2019 – The Mexico trip where Barry took Suzanne’s phone Mexico trip mentioned in the grievances list where Barry took Suzanne's phone.
February 11 – 14, 2019 – Suzanne in New Orleans with Libler Barry admitted to questioning Suzanne about the New Orleans trip, further evidence he suspected the affair.
April 2019 – Suzanne meets up with Libler in Indiana She does not see SO on this trip.
July 2019 – Suzanne and Libler meet up in Michigan Barry called SO while Suzanne was in MI visiting her fatheJL, wanting to know why Suzanne wasn't returning his calls.
September 2019 – Barry stalks Suzanne and Shelia Oliver, creeping through woods. Barry stalked Suzanne and Sheila at the Puma Path house in September 2019. This is upon his early return from a trip to Arizona.
October 2019 – Libler and Suzanne in Dallas Suzanne and Libler spend two nights at the Galleria.
September – November 2019 – Barry aggressively pursues KW around Salida. From the first time KW met Barry, she said it felt like "he was putting his tentacles out."
Holidays 2019 – Suzanne and Libler stop talking on the phone because she is afraid Barry will find out. They shift to more covert ways to communicate. Barry's second device makes its first appearance.
January/February 2020 – Suzanne in Florida, gets spy pen, sees Libler Suzanne in Florida, SO gives her the spy pen during this trip. Suzanne records a conversation with Libler on this trip.
Late February 2020 – Suzanne in Florida, sees father and Libler. Suzanne skips out on time with her father to see Libler. Barry goes to Florida.
March 2020 – Spy pen records argument between Suzanne and Barry. “It’s money. It’s about money.” “… I have lived for years being told how I should feel, how I should act, how I should look, what I should drink, what I shouldn’t drink, what I should put in my body, what I shouldn’t put in my body … ”
March 20, 2020 – Jekyll and Hyde text exchange between Suzanne and SO, MM2 suggests restraining order. "It’s Jekyl and Hyde again … Pretty much told him I can’t be healthy and stay in this."
March 22, 2020 – Spy pen records Barry listening to Forensic Files episodes, call with Suzanne on drive to Pueblo Coincidentally one of the episodes involved a woman "disappearing" after a bike ride.
April 21, 2020 – Messages between Suzanne and Libler “I want to be with you,” “I can only be me with you,” I love you,” “I need you.” “You know I was born to love you.”
May 4, 2020 16:05 – Barry makes 3 second outgoing call to Suzanne This was the first logged call in Barry’s phone to or from Suzanne since February 7, 2020.
May 5, 2020 – Suzanne drives MM2 to Gunnison Suzanne drives Macy to Gunnison, CO to meet MM1 for a road/camping trip through Utah and Idaho with MM1's best friend.
May 6, 08:44 – Suzanne sends MM2 a text “Good morning! I miss you already!”
May 6, 10:13 – Suzanne: “I’m done. I could care less what you’re up to and have been for years.” From 14:43 to 17:00 Barry replied, “When I’m dead,” “Going to see my savior,” and “This life on earth is a mear (sic) grain of sand compared to eternity.”
May 6, 2020 – 14:43 – From Barry to Suzanne: “I’m sorry if things went the way they did. I have a problem dealing with the way you accused me of hiding checks. If you think I’m as terrible of a person to hide our accounts and have ones you don’t know about you don’t know me. All I do is for you and the girls. All. When I'm dead, which won't be long, you guys will be taken care of. Please stop being angry. If I can control my hurt heart I think I can overcome your distant unlovingness toward me. Honey, I swear it's the hardest thing I've had to do. I love you I always will.”
May 6, 2020 – 15:51 – Barry to Suzanne: “I promise you were wrong about all the crazy thoughts about me. I have always been faithful. Always. Why would I ever want another when I'm married to the most beautiful, sweet, kind, loving, woman as you? Only a fool would stray from an angel like you.”
May 07, 2020 – Suzanne messages Libler about how magical past days had been. Barry wants a new truck. 16:43 - “Been studying all afternoon. I’m gonna bike now. I’ve got veggie soup on for supper.”
May 7, 2020 – SB puts new tires on Suzanne’s bike Bike mechanic was interviewed by law enforcement.
May 7, 17:13:52 – Barry Works Out at GD’s House Truck log files place Barry at GD's home at 5:13 pm.
May 7, 2020 23:00 – “I finally got the job” text from MM1 goes unanswered. Q (Lindsey): Anything on May 6th that didn’t seem normal? Was there a text from Mallory to Mr. Morphew? A (Grusing): I believe that’s the night of May 7th. Mallory, Macy, and their friend Holly are out on a trip towards Utah and Mallory is sending pictures to both Suzanne and Barry but I was ... Read more
May 08, 07:03 – The Grievance List: Suzanne’s phone backs up a list of 50 reasons why she wanted to leave marriage on “Notes” Not safe alone with you. Can’t be trusted - Oppressive - Slam on brakes when angry - Threaten to jump out of car - Gun ...
May 08, 08:43 – “I will continue to do your invoicing when you need to.” "When FBI Agents showed Barry these texts during interviews in 2021, he said he did not think Suzanne was serious."
May 08, 09:28 – Suzanne texts sister about Barry’s abuse. “It’s hard dealing with the harsh abrasiveness and having to show respect. He’s also been abusive, emotionally and physically. There’s so much … I went thru a period of acceptance and I feel more angry now. Anger at what I’ve allowed.”
May 08, 10:55 Barry: “I Love You, Suzanne.” “But, in the afternoon, it (the text fight) was like it never happened. She texted me back and it was just like, ‘Hey, what time are you coming home? Hey, this or that. Just pick this up or pick that up.'”
May 08, 13:18 – Barry texts Salida Stove and Spa about getting the hot tub fixed. "Asking when he could come out to the home."
May 08, 15:43 – Barry’s iPhone receives an SMS message associated with the unknown device This second device was first used on November 30,2019 and was associated with Barry’s iPhone 91 times since then, compared to 1,701 associations with the primary User ID since November 2019.
May 8, 19:06 – Moonlight Pizza and Phone Calls Barry convinces Suzanne to meet him at the Tailwinds site before going to pick up Moonlight Pizza together.
May 08, 21:04 – 20 Facebook friend requests, 3 men named “Jeff.” Barry’s lurking at the River. Barry was asked about his phone pinging down by the river during the Facebook posts on Friday night and asked if he was outside. Barry said, “I could have been. I don’t remember. I chase critters around the house all the time.”
May 09, 00:02 – Incoming call on Suzanne’s phone (PH CAST) Incoming call on Suzanne’s phone (PH CAST)
May 09, 02:07 – Outgoing call on Suzanne’s phone (PH CAST) 02:07 am outgoing call on SM’s phone (PH CAST)
May 09, 06:00 – Barry’s phone received call (PH CAST) 06:00 am BM’s phone received call (PH CAST)
May 09, 06:46 – Barry’s phone registered “Power On” Comes out of Airplane mode.
May 09, 07:19 – Barry’s cell received signal (PH) Barry’s cell received signal (PH)
May 09, 07:22 – 07:39 – Barry at “Tailwinds” worksite Barry’s phone registered locations at his “Tailwinds” work site near Poncha Springs.
May 09, 07:35 – Suzanne texting SO Discussing Sheila's daughters wedding on Sunday.
May 09, 08:00 – MG was with Barry working on the rock beach site until 10am(?). Gentile: “He said that he had to go make the wife happy – do some hiking or biking.”
May 9 – Morning – Suzanne messaging Jeff “He’s still wanting Arizona.”
May 09, 09:50 – Barry to Suzanne: Want to go on hike? *Text Exchange\* Barry to Suzanne: Want to go on hike?
May 9, 2020 – 11:14 – Suzanne received a second password reset message from Facebook Previous reset was while Barry was down by the river on the evening of the 8th.
May 09, 11:15 est. – Barry tells Morgan Gentile he could “bury a body” and it “would never be found.” Gentile: “He seemed stressed. He definitely seemed weird on Saturday.”
May 09, 11:55 – Dead Turkey Hunt or Barry Takes Down His Trail Cameras Barry said he was looking for a turkey that Mallory had shot previously with a bow, but they had never found.
May 09, 13:35 – Barry leaves home again. Checked on job at Kim Gyms
May 9, 13:40(?) – Suzanne texts Libler Guess who is alone again?
May 09, 13:46 – Barry and the backhoe After texting, Barry drove by TK's house to see the backhoe, but did not get back in touch to buy it. In 2018, Barry used a backhoe to dig a large hole in his front yard, fill it with items to include furniture, and cover it over, planting alfalfa on top.
May 09, 13:51 – 14:13 – Barry at DSI, replacing Bobcat blade He was wearing a blue t-shirt and khaki shorts.
May 09, 14:03 – Suzanne sends sunbathing pic to Libler, last proof of life. “Well, look at her. She’s obviously drunk. Look at her eyes. Do you know what drunk eyes look like?
May 09, 14:11 – Suzanne sends last LinkedIn message to Libler: “I’m on wa.” Libler sent response messages at 2:39PM, 2:46PM and 2:47PM that Suzanne did not answer.
May 09, 14:26 – Barry texts Suzanne, “Done headed back.” He texted Suzanne that he was done and was headed home.
May 09, 14:31 – Barry texted Suzanne, “Did you leave.” At 2:31 PM, Barry texted Suzanne, “Did you leave.”
May 09, 14:39 – Libler messages Suzanne, she does not respond. First unread. Messages from LinkedIn show they were talking about how Suzanne is in love with Jeff before she went missing.
May 09, 14:43 – Barry’s phone and F-350, per telematics, arrive at the Morphew residence. "The photo is shown in the courtroom, Suzanne smiling. Truck GPS coordinates show Barry’s truck goes into park at 2:43:59. Phone coordinates show he walks around the house. You can hear a pin drop in the courtroom as tension is high." - Carol McKinley, PH Tweet
May 09, 14:44 – Shooting Chipmunks? Barry had a .22 in the moments when Suzanne ceased the communicate with everyone she loved in the world. Shooting Chipmunks? Barry had a .22 in the moments when Suzanne ceased the communicate with everyone she loved in the world. (See: https://www.reddit.com/SuzanneMorphew/comments/17lfboz/barry_and_the_chipmunks_aa_excerpts/ )
May 09, 14:46 – Libler messages: “Hey … your weather looks great” Second unread. No response from Suzanne.
May 09, 14:47 – Jeff sends another messages to Suzanne with no response. Third unread. Jeff sends last message if the day to Suzanne with no response.
May 09, 16:00 – 17:30 – Defense says Barry was at Salida Stove and Spa Salida Stove and Spa's posted hours have the store closing at 2pm on Saturday. Telematics show Barry's truck in his garage during the time he was supposedly at Salida Stove and Spa.
May 09, 16:44 – Barry parks his truck in the garage. Barry claims to have been loading his truck and cleaning off his workbench. (See: https://www.google.com/maps/d/edit?hl=en&mid=1FSqlFRrywR8FkytAYkNM-bdSxvKVK5MP&ll=39.173623131314%2C-105.63244&z=8)
May 09, 17:33 – Barry’s truck system manually rebooted Barry attempted to disable the trucks GPS and SYNC features.
May 09, 18:40, 18:46 – SO sends two Snapchats to Suzanne that were never opened SO sends two Snapchats to Suzanne that were never opened
May 09, 21:25 – Barry’s truck goes into reverse, backs 96.8 feet down driveway Barry backs 96 feet out of the garage.
May 09, 22:17 – Barry’s Phone Exits out of Airplane Mode Barry's phone comes out of airplane mode at the Morphew residence.
May 10, 02:53 – Outgoing call on Suzanne’s phone Possible glitch.
May 10, 03:25 – 03:48 – Barry’s truck door opened and closed "SA Hoyland noted over eighty events involving the F350 during this timeframe."
May 10, 03:58 – Barry’s phone moves from home to near where Suzanne’s bike found 3:58 am BM cell moves from home to near 225/50 where bike found Carol McKinley PH Tweets (read from bottom tweet up): 431 am 5/10 Barry’s phone goes back into airplane mode at the his home. 5:37 am – morphew turns into buena vista & heads towards broomfield. 538 he texts his mom “happy ... Read more
May 10, 04:10 – 04:23 – Last Activity from Suzanne’s iPhone Sergeant Mullenax asked dispatch to ping the number given for Suzanne’s cell phone. Dispatch informed Mullenax that the cell phone appeared to be off and last known activity was at 4:23AM on the present date, with a general location about 11.5 miles west of a cell tower in Poncha Springs, CO.
May 10, 04:32 – Barry’s Phone Goes Back into Airplane Mode Barry's Phone Goes Back into Airplane Mode
May 10, 04:32 – 05:14 – Chasing Elk, or Staging Evidence? Barry's trip to Garfield adds an approximate five miles each way to his morning trip, and places Barry and his vehicle in the direction the helmet was discarded - west from the bicycle.
May 10, 05:00 – Morgan Gentile Hears Barry’s Truck on Hwy 50 Gentile stated she did not see the truck but that his truck has a very distinctive exhaust.
May 10, 05:14 – 06:56 – Barry on the road to Broomfield. Barry phone exits airplane mode while heading towards Buena Vista, CO.
May 10, 08:10 – Trash Dump #1 – RTD Bus Stop Hwy 36 Agent Grusing: "Yes. He would have time -- with the passenger door opening and closing -- like it would say passenger door opened at 8:10:36 am and then passenger door closed at 8:12:13 am. So it took about a minute and a half and that trash can is only 10 to 15 steps away from where the truck was parked."
May 10, 08:14 – 08:20 Holiday Inn Express, Broomfield. Trash Dump #2 Grusing: "He said he parked there because he hoped someone would come out and he could go in the hotel before checking in and get a free breakfast." (Note: It was mid-COVID lockdown, building capacities were down to single digits.)
May 10, 08:41 – 08:46 – “I made it to Broomfield call me when you get a chance” Barry texts Suzanne.
May 10, 08:46 – Barry carries items into the Holiday Inn Express “If there’s clothes in my truck, there was probably old clothes I threw away.”
May 10, 10:06 – Barry exits hotel room. He's carrying a charcoal long-sleeved shirt, two white bags, and a pair of boots.
May 10, 10:20 – 10:41 – McDonald’s – Trash Dump #3 SA Grusing said Barry had a small item in his hand and used one arm to push it down, then both to push it further down as Barry was shown the photos.
May 10, 10:47 – 11:18 – Men’s Wearhouse Trash Dump #4 Barry was told he was there for about 40 minutes and asked if he remembered what he was doing there. Barry said, “I think I was still cleaning my truck, umm, yeah, yeah I mean, like I said, I just uh, I would, I was probably getting crap out of my truck like I said, which I’ve done my whole entire life.”
May 10, 11:18 – Barry calls MG "Barry called he was out of breathe (sic) panting but fatigue, kind a like hungover but he doesn’t drink, honestly when I hung up I thought to myself he sounded like he had the worst night of his life.” - MG
May 10, 11:23 – 11:36 – Barry back at the HIE Barry carries in disorganized papers in a binder. Carries out an organized binder.
May 10, 11:57 – 12:25 – Barry at the worksite Barry spent 28 minutes removing a few blocks from the wall.
May 10, 12:28 – 12:41 – HIE Trash Dump #5 A camera recorded Barry throwing away: a small item, one white trash bag, larger in size than the previous bags in one hand, a black container, along with a piece of clothing, possibly a camouflage coat.
May 10, 12:42 – 18:03 – Barry remains in his HIE room. ”At 3:30PM, Barry sent an outgoing message to Suzanne 'Call me'"
May 10, 2020 (Time Unknown) – Libler wishes Suzanne a Happy Mother’s Day Commented that it would be a hard day because she missed her own mother.
May 10, 2020 – 15:30 – Barry texts Suzanne from his hotel room. At 3:30PM, Barry sent an outgoing message to Suzanne “Call me”
May 10, 15:50 – 17:45 – Suzanne is discovered “missing” “I’m just so sad and REDCATED and I texted mom for Mother’s Day and she still hasn’t answered and I’m scared her and dad probably got in a big fight and I don’t even know it just made me want to be gone even more because I don’t want to be around them it hurts me and I know if REDACTED is working I might have to be home a lot more and it’ll probably be the worst summer of my life.”- MM2 text.
May 10, 17:55 – 19:10 – Barry leaving Broomfield 6:10 pm - Barry entered the lobby carrying two shovels and placed them beside the front desk. He made subsequent trips, placing more tools in the same spot.
May 10, 19:31 – Chaffee County finds the bike “Something is up with the front tire,” Deputy Brown
May 10, 20:42 – Barry arrives at CR 255 & US 50 "Barry is heard asking if deputies saw any “cats” on the road and a deputy says not recently."
May 10, 21:37 – CCSO Commander Avila brings Barry into the house for scent items. Barry does not call out or look for his wife in the home.
May 10, After 21:47 – Barefoot prints in the Bobcat Bucket Deputy Brown was walking in the driveway when Deputy Defurio told him that there were barefoot marks inside of the bucket on the Bobcat. Deputy Brown went with him to examine and found that the cutting blade on the bucket of the Bobcat appeared to be newly replaced, along with the nuts and bolts.
May 10, 22:00 – MG and JP smell chlorine and have the wrong tools in Broomfield. “It looked like Barry had removed top caps that was it. We also did not have the tools we need like a packer or gravel.”
May 11, 2020 – First Interviews, Puma Path Searched "On May 11, 2020, at about 7:00AM, Barry called Morgan and said that Suzanne was missing and he thought a mountain lion may have attacked her. Morgan explained that Barry was initially crying but then abruptly shifted to the specifics about the Broomfield job."
May 11, 2020 – 14:47 – Libler sends last message to Suzanne. Wishing her well for her scheduled final cancer treatment that day.
May 12, 2020 – 20:00 – Barry found digging in the trash at Poncha Market “He went to write down a description of maybe what she was wearing,” Butala said. “I just thought it was weird because he didn’t explain what the color of her eyes were or her hair or anything about her, like how tall she was or anything.”
May 13, 2020 – Deputy Carricato took photos of scratches on Barry’s left arm and hands. These injuries appeared to be healing, several days old scratches.
May 13, 2020 – Fundraiser created $33,552 raised
May 17, 2020 – 11:13 – Barry’s “plea” video is released on Facebook. “Oh Suzanne, if anyone is out there and can hear this, that has you, please, we’ll do whatever it takes to bring you back. We love you, we miss you, your girls need you. No questions asked, however much they want – I will do whatever it takes to get you back. Honey, I love you, I want you back so bad.”
May 19, 2020 – Interviews, Pneu-Darts, Range Rovers "CCSO Deputy Scott Himschoot was present during the search at 19057 Puma Path, in the laundry room, and was asked to collect a “pneu-dart box, empty,” one plastic hypodermic cover, one Pneu-dart book from safe in garage, one dart from box under bench in garage, among other items. The plastic cover was located by evidence search teams in the dryer, inside of the sheets belonging to REDACTED bed." (At some point we had confirmation of a to-do list Suzanne left including MM1s bedding in hopes that the older girls would spend the night. Cannot remember the source.)
May 20, 2020 – Spy Pen found. "The pen was located in a cloth bin amongst women’s bras. The cloth bin and pen were inside the walk-in closet in the master bedroom, located on the ground level of the residence. Detective Hysjulien located, with the pen, the controller and headphones for playback and a USB cable."
June 1, 2020 – Barry files for guardianship. Within a month of Suzanne’s disappearance, Barry began to liquidate assets.
June 1, 2020 – TD interviews Barry on camera. "So, uh -- we uh --. We had two daughters that were coming home from a trip. And I got a job in Denver that I wanted to get started on on Sunday. Set it up for my work because my rookies are coming in Sunday night. (Unintelligible) Monday but I, being the owner, I wanted to get everything lined up so that (Unintelligible).
June 6, 2020 – Barry closes on IN home. Pockets $750,000
June 25, 2020 – Barry purchases the Longhorn Ranch property for $165,000 Property Address 8366 LONGHORN DR
July 13, 2020 – Barry sells Suzanne’s Range Rover. Leaves Suzanne's sunglasses in the car.
Aug 20, 2020 – Lauren Scharf Interviews Barry “People don’t know the truth, so they’re gonna think what they’re gonna think.”
October 05, 2020 – Barry lists Puma Path home for sale. Originally listed for $1,759,000.
November 2020 – Barry Commits Voter Fraud Barry filled out Suzanne's ballot and mailed it in.
February 17, 2021 – Barry Sells Longhorn Ranch property for $150,000 A $15,000 loss. Same property sold on 04/21/2021 for $175,000, indicating Barry needed the money fast.
March 3, 2021 – 19057 Puma Path sells for $1,625,000. Barry and Suzanne Morphew purchased the home on April 12, 2018 for $1,575,000.
May 4, 2021 – Warrant Issued for the Arrest of Barry Lee Morphew CRS/CHARGE: 18-3-102 (1), (a) Murder in the First Degree, a class 1 Felony, 18-8-610. Tampering with Physical Evidence, a class 6 felony, 18-8-306, Attempt to Influence a Public Servant, a class 4 Felony.
May 5, 2021 – 09:15 – Barry Lee Morphew Arrested for the murder of Suzanne Renee Moorman Morphew "Morphew was arrested around 9:15 a.m. on Wednesday, May 5 near his home in Poncha Springs. FOX31 News has obtained video of the arrest, which shows his truck stopped on the side of the road near several police vehicles. He can be seen standing just off the road with an officer." AA: https://www.documentcloud.org/documents/21065843-21cr78-morphew-redacted-affidavit
August 9-12, 2021 – Preliminary Hearing. Day One: https://docs.google.com/document/d/15wZ86C3zQ6kh9VGOUCJcr0ipCoFeaXkdowmwyaruiIQ/edit?usp=drive_link
Day Two: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1QKa1jcH2dAqe9Wezew-KbLCDuicrm1HgfwC4oGwM8Dg/edit?usp=drive_link
Day Three got corrupted so it's gone.
People's exhibit images: https://imgur.com/a/hgvlBUt Defense exhibit images: https://imgur.com/a/VC3ZfUZ
April 19, 2022 - Case against Barry Morphew Dismissed Without Prejudice. Prosecution asked for the case to be dismissed.
May 2, 2023 – Barry files $15,000,000 lawsuit against Chaffee County, et.al. https://www.9news.com/article/news/local/barry-morphew-lawsuit/73-3cea50c2-cdae-4338-8de9-9e113d33db6c
May 8, 2023 – Fraud Lawsuit filed against Barry in Indiana. Property dispute. https://denvergazette.com/news/courts/barry-morphew-sued-fraud-allegations-land-dispute/article_1c7cd90e-f4f5-11ed-9778-47c9c303d16d.html
September 22, 2023 – Suzanne's Remains Found Near Moffat in Saguache County While SCSO was searching for another (unrelated) missing woman. https://www.cbsnews.com/colorado/news/suzanne-morphew-remains-found-colorado-missing-mother-barry-chaffee-county-disappearance/
Sept. 27, 2023 – Autopsy Completed. Awaiting Toxicology. https://cbi.colorado.gov/news-article/suzanne-morphew-autopsy-results-cbi-update-0https://www.cbsnews.com/colorado/news/autopsy-complete-remains-missing-colorado-mom-suzanne-morphew/
April 29, 2024 – Toxicology finds BAM in Suzanne's bone marrow. “Homicide by undetermined means in the setting of butorphanol, azaperone, and medetomidine intoxication.” https://www.scribd.com/document/727780041/Suzanne-Morphew-autopsy-results https://www.cpr.org/2024/04/29/suzanne-morphew-died-by-homicide-with-tranquilizer-chemicals-present-in-body-according-to-autopsy-report/
Complete Case Overview (Official News Reports and Documents)
What Suzanne Left Behind (PH Exhibits)
Suzanne's Texts with SO Sept 2019
Barry's Unstableness: Suzanne's Text Conversion with SO September 1 (PH Exhibits)
Where was Barry on the 9th - Preliminary Hearing Exhibits
Barry and the Chipmunks (AA Excerpts)
Barry's dirty truck and poorly maintained rifle. PH Exhibits
Suzanne's Last Days - Timeline - May 4th - May 9th, 2020
Barry Buries a Body - May 10th, 2020 - Timeline
Barry Busy in Broomfield Part One (Preliminary Hearing Exhibits)
Barry Busy in Broomfield Part Two (PH Exhibits)

My two partners and I are going to go to the Texas Reniasaiance Fair in October and I'm trying to plan out the budget. I've already planned for like, 1k in terms of getting there and renting a tent, a locker, a scooter, and such- not to mention the costume I'm building.
But legitimately, how much do you typically spend? Food, knick knacks, trinkets, etc.
I know we all say "literally every cent we have goes towards the faire" but like, how much is that?
I'm POOR I gotta BUILD A BUDGET
(Also we have service dogs. One in training, one trained. If that affects anything.)

Here‘s a guide for Coop Mode:

Coop Captain:

How does Coop Captain work?

Coop Captain is any character that is either lvl 150 or you use a Coop Tome on. These Characters have predefined specials, Captain Abilities and Actions, which will apply to both teams. Rare Recruits (rr) or sugo rares (sr) have the identical coop abilities, so it doesn‘t matter which one you pick. Since these Captains have predefined abilities, Don‘t use OP Captains as Coop Captains (e.g any new SR or characters like G5 Luffy). It is better to use Rr or old legends, as those don‘t have Captain Abilities you might want to use.

What do the Coop Captains do?

The Abilities of Coop Captains are predefined, working as follows:
Captain Ability: Every Captain is a 4.5x boost of their Color (base effect) up to 6x (max lvl) and a rainbow Captain from 4.25x to 5.75x including a HP boost
Captain Action: Applies a 30% Resistance down of Characters 1st class for 2 turns and a 20% Resistance down of Characters 2nd class. Use this when you need that extra push in damage, for example on the boss. The effect is triggered by swiping down (like EX, Switch or Captain Action)
Captain Special: This is by far the most important aspect of your Captain, as this can hab the Tide of battle, when deciding who you wish to use, you should focus on this criteria. The Ability of the Captain is only based off of Rumble Style the Character has. Here‘s the Breakdown: - RCV-Style: Reduces unfavorable status icons on you and partner by 1-2 turns and heals all players (this does not include Hunger or status effects like bind, despair etc.) - DBF-Style: Delays all enemies (not bypassing immunity) by 1-3 turns and removes all enemy effects by 1 turn - DEF-Style: Reduces damage taken by 50%-90% for all players 1-2 times and heals all players - SPT-Style: Changes all player‘s (including block) slots to Favourable and reduces special charge by 1-2 turns and extends beneficial effects by 1-2 turns - BAL-Style: Reduces 1 enemy‘s HP by 15%-25%, heals all players (up to 2x Hp pool) and reduces everyone‘s Bind/Despair by 1-2 turns - ATK-Style: 250‘000-2‘000‘000 Damage (bypassing everything) to all enemies, changes both players‘ type slots to own type and reduces all players‘ Special charge by 2 turns

Which Coop Captain is the best / should you focus on?

Assuming you are playing with randoms, it is exactly in this Order: 1. RCV-Style 2. DBF-Style 3. DEF-Style 4. SPT-Style 5. BAL-Style 6. ATK-Style
This is because the 2 turns effect removal is OP. bleed? pain? Not with this special. Healing is also essential for playing with randoms, because you can make sure they survive so that you can clear the rest of the stage. Second is DBF, because they remove all enemy buffs by 1 turn, which allows you to save a special On the mob-stages or reduce damage limiter. The delay is also good, because if you don‘t manage to kill, you wouldn‘t get their atk damage. Next is DEF for its survivability SPT for extension and possibly special charge reducer (however, this character isn‘t immune to it BAL is situational, could be useful, but they don‘t reduce effects more than a simple support does. Don‘t use ATK-Style, the damage is a fucking joke, so only the special cooldown is useful, but SPT already does this
If you play with a teammate, I recommend using 1 DBF Style for the fodder stages (reducing def up) and one RCV Style for survivability and reducing of annoying effects like Pain, Bleed etc.

Coop Teams

What are the requirements for Coop Teams?

This Text is focusing on Infinitum Sea Difficulty:
Generally, you want to have a Team that is capable of: - Regular medium Damage Output (switch Characters with some type of ATK boosting effects) - Bind/DespaiParalysis Remover (this should be done via Captain and Supports) - Poison remover (as support Character, very important) - Enemy Buff Remover (I recommend 2 characters to be able to remove up to 10 turns of all 3 main buffs) - If you are unable (because of missions or other reasons) to be capable of all these things,focus on survivability and debuff removers, so that you can kill the fodder stages and can skip your turn at the boss to have your teammate clear it. - You want to use a Captain that removes some type of debuff on your crew passively, if they remove 2 that‘s even better (e.g Yamato Ace, G5 6* Luffy, Vegapunk)

General best use Crew

The Best General Team you can build is:
Psy Luffy G5 6* RCV-Style Coop Captain (preferably a Straw Hat) STND Sanji / Zoro Straw Hat that removes Def Up (Nami Carina for example)
Yamato Unit (e.g Yace for resilience) Debuff Remover (e.g Psy Cerebral Chopper)
Add some supports that remove Despair (Whitebeard on Yace, Luffy has V1 INT Reileigh) Add a Support that removes Poison
With this team you can Solo Infinitum, as long as your Parnter doesn‘t die and skips their turn if they can‘t defeat the boss this turn.
This team is OP, because with Luffy’s EX you bypass all barriers, only needing to deal with Def Up. Zoro/Sanji give you amazing attack boosting effects, and a STND for even more damage. They also remove Def zip, but you should use this only on the boss stage. All other characters are more or less free to use what you want, but you want to make sure to have some debuff removers, Def Up removers and make sure to be able to trigger STND every turn (so someone like Yamato/Ace is amazing, as their burn bypasses resilience and they change their slot (including block), which can then be switched by Zoro/Sanji

What do you play for?

Every month there will be a Coop Event, where you can grind for Stones for that specific 3 month period. After 3 months there will be the Grand Feast Sugo Fest, where you can pull with the Stones you have grinded over the past 3 months. Here, a multi pull costs 100 gems, and at the end of the event you will only get 5 multipulls out of all the pulls you‘ve done. Based on the rarity (and how recent the character is) your get points for the ranking, which will give you even more rewards (Rainbow Gems, SR Tickets) The Grand Feast Sugo Fest will have all normal banner legends from before the 1st month event period started (right now this means all legends up until and including QCK Slasher Momo)

How does Luck / Boosted Units work?

Luck affects which drops you get while clearing a Coop Quest. Drops you can get are (not exclusive as I will probably forget something uninteresting): - Feast Stones - Luck Drops - Cotton Candy - Special Level Tomes (including Sugo Rare) - Proof of Friendship
Luck is only affected by your Coop Captain and your Partners’ Coop Captain. You will get 1 luck every 5 levels and 1 luck for each rr of the same evolution tree and 2 luck for a sr for the same evolution tree. Your luck maxes at 100, meaning with your Partner the maximum luck you can have is 200. Boosted Units give you extra drops (similar to PKA or Blitz). However, different to those modes, you don’t need them in your crew, simply having the character unlocked is sufficient.

Communication

Lastly, but very important is communication. While the current ways to communicate are very limited, thee are a few messages you can use, which will allow you to more easily power through the content. Here’s how I’ve used and interpreted the ones I’m using: - Help Me: You are unable to clear this stage. This can mean either a debuff on you, or you can’t remove all enemy buffs. If the issue is that you have debuffs, try to stall while taking as little damage as possible and dealing as much as possible. If you simply can’t remove all enemy buffs, either a) it’s the boss: remove as many as you can, then skip your turn (top left next to the partner’s HP) b) fodder stage: Simply skip your turn - Let me Handle this: Mainly use this on the boss or if your teammate uses Help Me. This tells your Teammate to skip their turn, and let you kill all enemies - Please Remove that: Mainly used at the boss, letting your partner know they should remove enemy buffs as much as possible and then skip to you, because except for this enemy buff your can clear the stage - I’m sorry: Apologize if you didn’t manage to clear your stage, this is solely to be a good person and upkeep moral - Thank you / My thanks: Thsnking your teammate for something they’ve done, this is to upkeep moral and being a good person - Usopp Burn Emoji: Something fucked up. Very vague, I don’t recommend using this to properly communicate with your teammate - Wait! Stay strong: This tells your Partner they should stall, so for example only killing one enemy, or keeping the enemy left on low HP - We need a few more Communication Emojis, for example that you need debuffs removed

Use Skip

You can only skip your turn once in a row, and if you have skipped your partner cannot skip in that exact turn. When skipping, you do not lose a turn on the effects you have, so when you have a debuff on you and you skip your turn, you’ll not reduce any turns of debuff that’s currently on you. Skip is overpowered as fuck, especially on the boss stage, because it is the other player’s turn without the boss doing anything. Take a boss like Luffy. He does a lot of debuffs on you, so you remove as much def as you can, and then simply skip to your partner. Assuming you have cleared all stages prior, your Partner will now have nearly all specials and no debuffs on a boss with about 50mil HP. That is very easy. If you can’t defeat the current stages enemies, don’t forget you have a skip button
Please. Use. Your. Skip. At. The. Boss, especially when your teammate tells you “let me handle this”.
If there are any infos missing or wrong, please let me know so I can update this guide. I’m also open for questions

I swear that every year when spring hits and I head out for my first session of the year, I forget something important. They say it’s like riding a bicycle, but you usually don’t have to build the bike yourself. Here’s a story of my most recent brain fart
In early days, I forgot the tree pro, or I forgot how many carabiners and rings I needed for the primitive. I’ve spent a full half hour figuring out how ratchets work. One time I forgot the anchor slings. This year, I remembered the soft release. When I was doing my pocket Macarena for keys and wallet, I included the soft release hanging from my backpack
And then I got to the spot, rigged 20m of SkyPilot, checked the anchors for alignment and tree pro like it was a primitive, tensioned my Buckingham like it was a longline, and forgot to attach the soft release like an idiot
I only noticed after we had pulled it tight and tied it off and I went to stash my pack and the rest of my webbing out of the way, only to see the soft release in my hand and realize that it shouldn’t be in my hand. I’ll admit I panicked for a bit. My mind immediately went to “cut the anchor sling” but thankfully no one had a knife
Approximately one joint later and calmer I remembered how friction locks work so I Macgyvered the soft release into an Ellington, released the pin on the weblock, and the day was saved (from my own idiocy)
Do y’all have any stories like this that would make me feel less foolish?

https://www.reddit.com/Paranormal/comments/1csea6s/the_day_i_strangled_my_cousin/
The day "i" strangled my cousin.May 15th 2024, 06:33, by BraveShoppingCart
So just found this sub Reddit and have been reading all the spooky stories, just thought I'd share mine.
So my grandma used to live in a 4 stories high flat, she was on the top floor. She lived there for 50+ years (the whole building is 100+ years old).
When my mum was a little girl she experienced a lot of creepy shit. She told me this particular story as I grew a bit older that really stuck with me all these years, One night while she was sleeping in bed with her little sister (they shared a room), she looked over to the door and seen a man standing in the shadows, full of fear she froze and didn't know what to do she just stared at this "man" and decided to wake her sister up while having her eyes fixed on this man. Her sister woke up and began to cry after seeing this and her parents came in the room and the "man" was gone.
Another thing my mum told me was beside the garden door on the bottom floor there was a little indoor storage area where all residents of the flat could store their bikes, scooters etc. My mum told me to not go in it, she legit told me it's haunted stay away from it, I never went close to it, infact I remember everytime I had to go up to my grans by myself I would feel a eerie feeling coming from that little compartment and I would sprint up the stairs, I would also feel as if something was following me from behind as I was going upstairs.
Anyway that's just some backstory of this house, now when I was 14 years old. Myself, my brothers and my cousins we all used to go over to my grans quite regularly and back then we never had phones or anything so we used to play games like hide and seek, what's the time Mr. Wolf etc, one day it was just me and one of my cousins (he was around 11) all the adults used to sit in the living room and they used to tell us to go play, because we used to scream they used to tell us to close the door, which we always did.
So my cousin and I decided to play hide and seek, I tell him that lll seek he hides, he agrees and goes to hide. I face the wall and begin to count down, when I finish I go to look for him, I start by the kitchen, he's Not there, I go to the bathroom Not there, then I go to my grandparents bedroom, inside the bedroom they had this closet, it was more like a small room plenty of space in there for like 4 people, this is where they stored a bunch of blankets and old traditional furniture. As I entered the bedroom to my surprise he jumps out from this closet with both his hands on his throat crisscrossing eachother, looking pale and blue, what he says next I will never forget he says "why did you strangle me".
My first instinct was to call him a dumbass and say "I didn't" then he says "you were behind me strangling me I saw your face" this sent shivers down my spine. Now in my head I'm thinking if I am currently infront of you, how could I have just "teleported" Infront of you if I was right behind you a second ago?. For this to make any sense I would have strangled him then I would have to somehow run directly infront of him, out the closet door without him seeing me and get to the position I was currently in which is impossible. So being the older cousin I could clearly sense the fear and distraught he was in, so to lighten the mood I started to laugh and giggle and said "yeah it was me hahahahaha, I was behind you" I hugged him, but honestly I was fucking shitting my pants.
We stopped playing hide and seek after that.
His mum was mad at me for "strangling" him, I just took all the blame, I told my mum what happened when we left my grans, she believed me and hugged me and we kept it to ourselves.
Many years down the line i was like 21 and this cousin was like 18ish, i bought this story up with him and he remembered clear as day exactly what happened, we talked and now that he was way older he understood what had happened and that it was completely impossible for me to be infront of him and also behind him strangling him a moment ago. He thanked me for giving him that comfort at that young age, and telling him it was me strangling him, he said for many years he believed it was me (because I told him it was) he also said that if I didn't say it was me, he would've been paranoid for the rest of his life.
He said as he grew older he starting to think about that day and started to realise there was no possible way it could've been me strangling him if I had just come into the bedroom, he stared to put it together by himself.
Thankfully, that house has now been sold. But even as I grow older, there are moments when I feel the urge to drive by it again. Yet, as I approach, a sense of unease creeps over me, and I find myself accelerating, desperate to escape its haunting grip just a little quicker.
submitted by BraveShoppingCart [link] [comments]

Admitting we have a problem is the first step in solving it! Author is a Eugenean talking about her experience with rising crime in the city, never saw this story but hey, still relevant today. Found this little gem by random chance. Title is a hopefully relatable quote from the article. You can agree or disagree with the author, but it's actually pretty well written with sources included. (just including the whole article, for people who don't want to click links!)

I Caught Two Men Stealing From My Home. The Aftermath Was Absurd—and All Too Typical.

This experience crystallized Oregon’s deeper problems.

BY REBECCA SCHUMANJUNE 21, 20225:40 AM
Typically, guys wearing power-company vests don’t leave the houses they’re working on laden down with backpacks—let alone power tools, a scooter, and a Nintendo Switch. But that was the scene I happened upon at 6:30 p.m. on a Tuesday in mid-April when I puttered into my driveway in Eugene, Oregon, my 7-year-old ensconced in the back seat.
For a second, my brain tried to normalize the incident: This is just my daughter’s dad stopping by—except there are two of him, and they’re dressed as electricians for some reason? Then, a second later, everything whooshed into place: Oh, wait, I’m being robbed. Or, rather, I was being burgled. I would get reminded of this distinction later, when I made the dubious choice to join the chorus of aggrieved buttinskies on Nextdoor, where my well-meaning post to warn the neighborhood would turn me into an accidental vigilante hero for a day.
Unfortunately, it’s true: My reaction to this burgle was the lived-out fantasy of many who have been on the business end of a property crime. As the two goons took off on foot down my street, I went into fight-or-flight mode—and I chose fight.
“Well,” I said to my confused child, “let’s go see if we can get our stuff back.”
I peeled my 2005 Subaru back onto the street and easily overtook my two targets, who then hurtled themselves into an alley, whereupon I cornered one by the driver’s side window as the other made haste across the adjacent parking lot.
“Just give it back, bro!” I yelled out my window. “Just give it back! I’m a single mom! Just give it back.”
I repeated this until either I reminded him too much of his meanest teacher or he realized he’d been caught in broad daylight. “Fine,” he said. “Just fucking take it.”
He shoved a backpack through my driver’s side window. Inside it was both my laptops and my daughter’s iPad from school. Back at home, I would discover these guys had used channel lock pliers to force open the back door, but that the general chaos of my home had prevented them from locating my passport, jewelry, or sole item of irreplaceable value: the Montblanc fountain pen that my father, who died in a bicycle accident two years ago, had gotten for his law school graduation. My cat was unfazed.
I can honestly tell you that this little caper of mine was thrilling and deeply satisfying. It was also the exact wrong thing to do. Even this fanatical open-carry gun website implores: “Don’t chase criminals.” What if these two dipsticks had been armed? As unlikely as that was—property crime in my town is often driven by addiction, and weapons are worth money, which can buy drugs—I put myself and my child in potential danger. And for what? Three grand worth of electronics. As any reputable expert will tell you, you’re never to give chase to a thief, because human life is not worth possessions. As much as I admit to enjoying being called a “badass” by everyone I told this story, plus the listeners of KLCC Oregon, I should not have done this.
I did call the police, on the nonemergency line, because the dudes were long gone and nobody was hurt. I declined the dispatcher’s offer to send two officers to fingerprint a bunch of stuff I’d already touched. At best, that would have just added two more sets of prints to my town’s burgeoning roster of perennially at-large property criminals.
There are larger issues here, issues much more important than my would-be cool story. First, it’s an example of how in Eugene, small-scale property crime is now de facto legal. It is largely nonviolent, so it’s rarely seen as worth police resources to track down the goods. At the same time, it is so prevalent that any time one vest-wearing bozo gets nabbed, three more spring up in his place. This was my house’s second break-in in six months, and my fourth property crime total in the three years I’ve lived here as an adult. Eugene is my hometown, so I can also add the four times my childhood house, where my mother still lives, has been burgled since the early 2000s. When I was little, we left our front door unlocked so regularly that I wasn’t aware front doors had locks on them until I was much older. By the time I turned 30, however, every door in my parents’ house had been pried open at least once. (“Time to finally get that alarm system!” said my dad for three straight decades.)
Still, it’s a mistake to treat this trend solely as a vexing crime problem. Eugene’s descent into its property crime epidemic has been concurrent, unsurprisingly, with two addiction epidemics: First, the methamphetamine nightmare of the 1990s—when pseudoephedrine pills were still unregulated—hit Oregon and other Western states particularly hard. That wave segued all too naturally into the opioid and fentanyl crisis of the present. Meanwhile, not only did meth never really leave, but its use in Oregon also surged with the pandemic, with three Oregonians per day currently dying a drug-related death.
Since our conversation was necessarily brief, I don’t know the housing or drug situation of the guys who broke into my place. But local statistics point to them as two more casualties of these plagues. (Granted, those statistics are from nearby Portland, and they are police-sourced, so take them how you wish.)
For all the ambivalent empathy that the opioid epidemic has engendered, the local property crime scourge has set off a fierce public backlash. My incident brought out an unsurprising chorus of bloodlust on Nextdoor and elsewhere, when I shared it because I wanted to give my immediate neighbors a heads-up: “You should have kicked their asses,” they wrote. “We need to rise up and defend our property.”
This town’s petty crime is often attributed, at least in the national conservative press, to our West Coast government’s decision to temporarily allow urban camping during the pandemic. (That policy has now officially ended, for what it’s worth.) Towns like mine have often been characterized in the popular imagination as unlivable crime-addled hellholes. I will be the first to admit that our tent cities are sometimes blatant open-air drug markets, but this is the case even as our property values inflate to absurd proportions—and our crime is actually on the decline. Still, Oregonians like me currently have about a 2.7 percent chance of being burgled, which, at almost 30 percent higher than the national average, is very high. I learned very efficiently how anecdotes like mine get around (I can’t help it if I’m a dynamic storyteller!) and attract the righteous indignation of other former victims, so many often feel, incorrectly, like we few honest vanguards are awash in a sea of riffraff.
This atmosphere, in turn, inspires my locality’s equally unreasonable political extremists to put forth and exacerbate their own untenable solutions. Even in a hyperpolarized American environment, Oregon is more polarized than most. For decades, our liberal enclaves have made Portlandia look understated, while our conservative areas make Texas’ look progressive.
For example, during the heyday of Eugene’s recently dismantled and infamous Washington Jefferson Park tent city, a larger break-in at a bicycle store was traced at least partially back to the encampment. The police swept the tents and made a flurry of arrests. Some of the bikes were found. This resulted in part in outrage over using resources to hassle the city’s most impoverished residents: “A stolen bike, yes, that sucks,” an advocate for the unhoused told a local news outlet. “But what are your priorities? And I’m sorry, but a stolen bike isn’t the priority.”
Well, trust me, in this town, it definitely isn’t. Recovering those bikes was an anomaly; in Eugene, most of these burglaries go unsolved. In fact, 87 percent of burglaries in the whole country do, too. The get-tough-on-property-crime proponents assert that statistically, this sends a message that stealing is fair game, and sure, that is a message I do not condone. But I also agree with a somewhat less rabid version of the opposing view: Property is replaceable, these crimes are nonviolent, and everyone currently rifling through houses and dealing drugs out of tents in my town is human. They deserve a chance to get their lives on track.
So, what should be the town’s priority? Fixing the addiction epidemics is a perilously long way away from happening, for reasons that are as polarizing as addiction’s consequences. In the sobering and excellent Dopesick, author Beth Macy goes into painfully exacting detail about opioids’ near-inescapable hold on the human brain. Macy argues that the true way out of this epidemic is “low-barrier treatment,” which includes supportive housing and medical interventions such as safe injection supplies, fentanyl testing strips, buprenorphine access, and supervised consumption sites. All of these options, however, are a tough sell even in a “progressive” town like Eugene, where supervised consumption sites are what NIMBY nightmares are made of, and low-barrier treatment can run up against deeply held moral stigma: Gas is $5 a gallon, and my taxes are going to some junkie?
In the meantime, while some admirably advocate and vote and wait for those breakthroughs, what should we do about the burglaries themselves? Should we pursue more law enforcement, or more compassion toward the burglars? More arrests that allegedly might deter this, or policies that might alleviate income inequality? Does—as approximately 83 percent of the suggestions from my Nextdoor thread contended—every house in town need a tripwire that handcuffs trespassers on sight? Or should all businesses be taxed at 500 percent, and the proceeds used to furnish every fentanyl dealer in town with a nice apartment and mad cash? The debate has degenerated such that these are the sorts of cartoonish positions each side believes they’re fighting—and, in fact, are the only available choices. Just check out Eugene’s Reddit section any day, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.
The actual blight on small American towns like mine isn’t property crime. It’s that any tenable solution to it has been swallowed up into a churning abyss of extremism and perceived counterextremism. No one seems to have a convincing answer to the most basic question: So what should we do? What should I do?
Burglaries don’t have to be largely unsolvable, and more property criminals could be apprehended. But while I don’t want those dudes or any of their buddies to come back to my house, I also don’t want them in an American prison, where their “rehabilitation” will consist largely of learning better ways to commit even bigger crimes when they get out, and their options for alternative forms of acquiring money will be even more limited than they are now. Lacking any meaningful restorative justice program for petty thieves in my town (which would, in turn, necessitate locating and apprehending them), I decided my own problems could be solved, for now, with a padlock on my back gate.
And then, not long after the break-in, a Nintendo Switch appeared on my town’s Craigslist. Its included components and color combination were identical to the set stolen from my house. I debated, briefly, bringing my vigilante justice alter ego Super Annoying out of retirement, answering the ad and showing up to shrill my wrongdoers into returning what was mine. But this time, I thought better of it. My life is not worth much, but it’s probably worth more than Mario Kart. I can only hope the console’s new owners enjoy it as much as my daughter did—at least until someone steals it again.

This has mostly to do with warships, as main base gameplay is easy enough that you can use whatever troop you want.
They were supposed to compete with seekers and bombardiers but the reality is that they are more niche than rocket choppers.

• They die to everything. It's impossible to shock every defense and clear every minefield. Most troops have a few defenses they can safetly ignore. Their constant need to spread out ensures they will get hit by mine patches that heavys ignore. Laser Rangers even make sniper towers look useful.

Honorable mention to the hot pot requiring me to hit a frame perfect shock or else it instantly ends my attack.

• Their speed is not an asset, it's a detriment. If there's too much space between defenses, they'll catch up or even surpass the heavys tanking for them. Opportunities to flare are few and far between, as it's usually a death sentence.
  
• They are too easily countered by base design. There's no good reason why their damage should plummet if a building is on an edge. I'm pretty sure they do less dps than heavys in these situations. This is probably the most layup change they can make.
  
• They're still bugged. I've seen as many as 40% of my laser rangers freeze in place at times, needing several seconds to reboot or something. Hilariously, this will sometimes work to their advantage since they all won't get oneshot.
  
• 2nd only to zookas in how useless they are without a hero to carry them.
  

This has nothing to do with winning or losing. I comfortably finish in the top 500 every season. They're just such a miserable troop to be forced to use. I'd rather watch 4 boats of zookas get stunlocked by a single critter launcher.

Okay, I’m gonna level with you. Focusing on current events is just getting a little too fucking heavy. I’m no closer to answers than I was a month ago, none of us can sleep through a full night without waking up shaking and drenched in sweat, and there are some new downright bizarre phenomena cropping up that I just don’t have it in me to allot my energy to at the moment.
So, for today’s installment (and then also for the next one) I’m gonna tell you another good ol’ fun-for-the-whole-family pool story. Yep, you heard that right—welcome to our first bonafide two-parter.
This was quite a while ago. My measure of time is all off by a year now, but I feel fairly confident in chalking it up to post-first pool story, pre-ouija board fiasco—so however long ago that’s been now.
It was a weird, rare night, in that Matt was out. Not an unheard of occurrence, but it’s fairly anomalous, and it certainly puts the rest of us on slightly higher alert.
Obviously, he always tells us to call him at the first sign of some shit going down and to use our best judgment to determine whether it’s serious enough to lock up and head out. Better safe than sorry and all that. The night in question was no exception to the rule.
Overall, though, things were mostly quiet. Alice was in, as was I, as was Wiley. We do a lot of congregating, but we do a lot of work, too, and this night, we were all in our respective areas, doing our respective jobs.
I was in my not-office mending a finicky Shakespeare anthology, Alice was watching the desk while working on cataloging a truckload of new donations, and Wiley was replacing several lightbulbs that had all decided to call it quits after our most recent power outage (this one due to a flash-flood).
It was calm to an almost uncharacteristic degree. There was a relatively steady flow of patrons in and out of the building—I could hear Alice greeting them and wishing them a good evening—but as far as anomalous activity, there was none.
It does happen, on rare occasion, that we make it through a full night without any goings on, but there’s almost always at least the odd disembodied voice or two.
We should’ve known better than to trust a meteor shower.
See, there’s just something about natural anomalies. Not just the ones that knock our power out, either, although those are clearly included. Blizzards, thunderstorms, hail and tornados and earthquakes and all your run-of-the-mill destructive shit, sure. But the things of beauty, too. Rainbows. Eclipses, lunar or solar. And you think full moons hit emergency rooms hard? Try this fucking place.
It was just that a meteor shower wasn’t one we’d dealt with before. Does that mean we shouldn’t have known better? Fuck no. Obviously not. But perhaps our collective greatest fault is that we still have some semblance of hope.
Wiley wanted to look at it from the roof. Kid never fucking wants to do anything, and they were set to climb up and camp out alone. I couldn’t not entertain such an innocent, youthful whim.
Our roof access doesn’t have stairs—just a ladder—so Alice couldn’t accompany us, which I felt shitty about, but she assured me it was perfectly fine with her.
“The world decided I didn’t need functional legs so I could never be peer pressured into leaving the ground,” she quipped. “I’m not into heights. But y’all have fun up there. Somebody needs to be here for the patrons anyway.”
Fair and fair. So Wiley and I gathered up an armful of blankets and one of Matt’s trusty camping lanterns and headed out to scale the building.
Wiley went up ahead of me. That was my first mistake.
Really, they aren’t that much younger than I am. Maybe four or five years, and I’m too close to thirty for comfort now. But there’s something about them, even as far as they’ve come, that makes it impossible for me not to do everything in my power to protect them. I think Matt feels the same way. Maybe most of us do.
Anyway, that’s why I immediately started cursing myself when they reached the top of the ladder, pulled their way up and over the ledge of the roof, and said, “...Whoa.”
My second mistake was not immediately telling them to turn around and start climbing right the fuck back down.
I knew exactly what that tone of voice meant. But something in me just kicked into hyperdrive and I…had to see it. Whatever it was, I had to see it for myself.
“Don’t move,” I said, and then, “What is it?”
But by that point, I was at the top, too. I hoisted myself over the ledge and was met with…
…Water.
It was everywhere. Extending in every direction. There was no edge in sight—not even a horizon line. Just vast, dark water as far as the eye could see.
“Okay. This is not—let’s go.”
“Yeah,” Wiley agreed, a little breathless.
I’m sure you’ll be downright shocked to learn that, when we turned around, the ladder was gone.
The edge of the rooftop was, too.
The thing that surprised me, really, was that it wasn’t as though we were standing on some sort of island. We were somehow in the water all of a sudden, up to our waists, neither of us having taken a single step.
“Fucking…shit. Jesus. Adam?”
“We’re fine,” was my default response, because my anxiety override kicks in like a motherfucker as soon as someone else is more openly afraid than I am. “It’s okay, let’s just—let’s think for a second. Maybe it’s just, like, an illusion or something.”
“Okay,” Wiley said. “Maybe we should…try moving?”
“Yeah. Yeah, we’ll bump the ledge and then we can just feel for the ladder. Good idea.”
Wiley and I shared a look, wordlessly nodding to one another, and stepped forward in unison.
Maybe I misspoke before, when I said we weren’t on a platform. It was just that our platform wasn’t above the water. Now, though, there was nothing.
It felt, almost, like the stomach-turning sensation of missing a step walking up a staircase. The only difference was that there was no moment-too-late connection.
We plummeted.
There wasn’t any difference in temperature beneath the surface, which was, in a way, more disorienting than the water itself. The mental recalibration that typically comes with plunging into a cool lake or, adversely, a heated pool wasn’t allotted an opportunity to take place. It felt, for most intents and purposes, the same as being in the air, just that I couldn’t breathe.
It was heavy, too. The weightlessness water tends to embody was null; I immediately abandoned everything I’d been carrying, clawing my way upward frantically enough that it would’ve been mortifying, I’m sure, had anyone witnessed it.
Wiley resurfaced at the same moment I did—empty handed as well, I noted—coughing a little but not to the extent that I was worried they were choking. “Next idea?” they asked, pushing their wet hair back from their face, dark, damp lashes obscuring their eyes.
“Let’s get back on the…” I started, but trailed off when I raised my head.
A couple hundred yards out from us, there was a ship. It was a dark, hulking thing, with tattered sails and something indistinguishable affixed to the bow, glittering and glinting in the moonlight.
Wiley spun around to face it, drifting back slightly when their gaze landed parallel to mine. “What the fuck is that?” they demanded, legs kicking haphazardly beneath the water to keep them in place.
“Maybe it’s…good,” I said. I knew better than that and I knew Wiley did, too, but I said it anyway. “Maybe someone will help.”
They didn’t even humor me with a response to that bullshit.
Now, at this point in the story, maybe you’re thinking being suddenly surrounded by water and watching as an ominous ship approached us with absolutely nowhere to go and no way to escape doesn’t feel quite enough like imminent condemnation. To which I say to you: not to worry. Because the next realization we came to was that the platform we’d been standing on previously had suddenly ceased to exist.
“Shit,” Wiley said. “Shit, shit, shit. Adam.”
“I know,” I said. “It’s fine. We’re fine. We just—we’re gonna—follow me.”
I don’t know. I don’t know what the fuck possessed me to swim toward the Obvious Death Ship. I guess just that there wasn’t anything else save for open water anywhere so it essentially felt like our options were paddle around until we were exhausted and drown or face a quicker, simpler demise.
“You better have a fucking plan, bro,” Wiley intoned from behind me, which I chivalrously pretended not to hear, because I did not, in fact, have a fucking plan.
The closer we drew to the vessel, the more unbelievably monstrous it appeared to become. It loomed above us, casting a shadow over everything in its direct path, and the sinking in my stomach almost convinced me to turn around. Almost.
But then something curled around my ankle. It was slick and strong, and there wasn’t a doubt in my mind that whatever it was could’ve pulled me under and eaten me alive in a fraction of a second.
Luckily for me, it wasn’t interested. It let go as quickly as it had latched on, almost as though it was simply using me as a handrail to move itself along. Still, though, the knowledge that it was there was all the motivation I needed to push forward ever faster. I didn’t say anything—didn’t want to add more fuel to Wiley’s panicked fire—just picked up my pace and swam up to their side.
“There’s a ladder,” they informed me, raising a hand and pointing toward the back half of the ship.
Indeed, there was a ladder. It was a tattered, worn thing, comprised of old, fraying rope and rotting, untreated wooden boards, but it looked composed enough that I figured we could likely make it up if we were swift.
“Bet,” I said. “Let’s go.”
We went.
Up close, the ladder appeared even shoddier than it had when we’d first seen it. I reached out of the water and wrapped my fingers around the rope at the bottom, giving it a hearty tug. To my slight surprise, it held fast.
“I think we’re good,” I told Wiley. “I’ll go up first and tell you what I see.”
“Be careful,” they said, but didn’t protest, just backed up enough for me to get the leverage I needed to hoist myself onto the bottom board.
I climbed warily, overly conscious of every creak of the wood bowing beneath my weight, every groan of the fibers of rope under my hands, but made it without incident to the top.
Once there, I grabbed onto the ship’s edge, lifting my gaze to take in whatever lie before me.
It was…nothing. I mean, it was a ship, obviously. But there wasn’t anything on board. No apparent crew nor cargo nor even a captain manning the helm. Granted, I couldn’t see perfectly, but the moon shone brightly enough that I was fairly confident in my observation that the deck was devoid of anything but its own shiplap floor.
“Hello?” I called, because I wasn’t about to beckon Wiley up if some fucked shit was going to pop out of nowhere the second we made a sound.
Nothing responded. Nothing moved. The ship rocked gently on the impossible water, as silent and vacant as it had been a moment before.
“Good?” Wiley questioned nervously from below me.
“Yeah,” I told them, easing myself off the ladder and down into the confines of the vessel. “Come on.”
They did so tenuously but still more swiftly than I had, climbing aboard and landing next to me with a dampened thunk.
We allowed ourselves the briefest of moments to catch our breath, silently rejoicing in the small win that was having found solace from the pool itself. Not that we had any idea what to do or where to go from here, but at the very least, we weren’t drowning.
“Okay,” I said, clearing the unease from my throat. “I don’t know what good trying to steer this thing would do us—there’s nothing but water no matter where we go. But maybe there’s something here somewhere that’ll help us figure out how to get back. So I think we just…start looking around?”
Wiley nodded. “Cool. Split halves, front and back?”
Nooo, Adam, don’t split up! Never split up! I know. I can literally hear you screaming it at me. And actually, for once in my life, I considered that something might be a horrible fucking idea before acting on it.
But then I saw something.
As I turned back to respond, Wiley’s eyes shimmered, dancing in the moonlight.
They were silver and mercurial, with no pupils or whites in sight.
Whatever had come back up from underwater, it was not my coworker.
I swallowed, forcing my expression to remain as neutral as I was able and praying whatever was standing in front of me didn’t notice I’d caught on. My entire body was instantaneously covered in chills, in a way that I understood to have the same purpose as a dog’s hackles rising. “Sounds good,” I said. “I’ll take the front.”
I headed in the opposite direction of the thing wearing Wiley’s face (at a pace that I hoped didn’t appear hurried but one that would remove me in a timely manner from the vicinity) and didn’t stop until I’d reached the front of the ship, breathing heavily and attempting to slow my reeling mind.
I didn’t know what to tackle first. I didn’t know where Wiley was, or if they were anywhere—if they were even still alive. I didn’t know what my next move should be. I didn’t know what I was looking for or where I might find it.
It’s rare that I feel utterly hopeless, to the degree that I genuinely contemplate just sitting down and giving up, but in this instance, I thought long and hard about how easy it would be to succumb. I’d let the unthinkable happen. Wiley was gone. No one else had been here with them—there was no one else to blame. Just me. Only me.
…You’ll be glad to know that the self-pity didn’t last long. Embarrassing, honestly.
If I was the only one here, it meant I was the only shot they had at making it out alive. Our version of ‘innocent until proven guilty’ had always been ‘alive until proven dead’ and I wasn’t about to turn my back on the insane streak of luck we’d had up until this point. Not a single one of our lives had been lost, and we’d been in the midst of some absolute shitstorms. There was no reason to believe that right now, tonight, was an outlier. I couldn’t lie down like a sick dog and wonder if Wiley was still out there somewhere, suffering until the bitter, bloody end. I had to find them. By whatever means necessary, as long as it took, I had to find them.
I pushed off the railing before me and spun on my heel, eyes flitting back and forth to assess my options as efficiently as possible, and after a moment, I registered that fitted flush against the large front mast, there was a door.
It was only a sliver, thin and not particularly extraordinary in height, but there was a handle carved roughly into its right side and a set of rust-riddled hinges on its left.
I took about half a second to weigh my options and then reached for it, curling my fingers around the handle and giving it a generous tug.
The hinges, unsurprisingly, complained, but not loudly and not for long. The door gave way with little resistance, and opened up to my worst fucking nightmare.
A set of stairs, descending into blackness.
I mean, I guess if I’m being fair, my first pool encounter had featured a staircase leading to the pool rather than away from it, but I didn’t feel like there could possibly be good news awaiting me below deck of a ship where I’d just encountered a fucking mimic.
Still, though, there was a niggling insistence in my brain (not that kind, come on) that it was my only lead on finding Wiley if they were, in fact, somewhere on board. So I cast one last glance over my shoulder and stepped into the dark, letting the door fall closed behind me.
It smelled different, instantly, from the open air above. Mustier, which was to be expected, but also almost sweet somehow. I tried, unsuccessfully, to shove my true-crime-podcast-addled brain’s helpful reminder that the scent of human death is said to be sweet into a mental lockbox and put my hand to the wall, easing tentatively down to the second step.
The visibility wasn’t just low—it was practically zero. If you’ve ever been on a cave tour and had a guide cut the lights and instruct you to lift your hand to your face to demonstrate the complete absence of light, it was nearly that intense. The placing of both feet on each concurrent stair was an arduous, calculated process, but finally, after approximately one (1) century, I reached flat ground. I still couldn’t see, and there was no definitive way to tell whether I was standing on the floor or just a landing without thoroughly feeling out the space around me, so I reluctantly departed from the wall, scooting my feet in small, tentative motions and keeping both arms partially outstretched before me.
After a (l o n g) moment, I determined that either this was the world’s largest landing or I’d made it all the way down. I had no idea whether I was in a singular, enormous room, or if there were individual cabins, or if I was about to run face-first into the grim fucking reaper.
And then I turned to my left.
There was a light.
It was so, so faint. Flickering. Barely discernible, its warm, gentle glow ever so shyly illuminating the cracks around what appeared to be another closed door.
Being the only visible thing in my line of sight, in any direction, it emitted the aura of both a beacon and an omen.
I headed towards it.
I was about half afraid I was stuck in a horror movie situation where no matter how long I walked it would never grow any closer, but fortunately, that didn’t seem to be the case. I actually gained on it more quickly than I felt I should have for the speed I was moving, but I wasn’t going to complain about reaching the end of the nothingness in commendable time.
I ran my fingertips along the edge of the door and, sure enough, there was a carved-in handle, just like the last.
It opened just as effortlessly, and yellow candlelight rolled dimly out to greet me, lapping at my waterlogged clothes.
“Please,” came a quiet, terrified voice from inside the room. “Please don’t. I don’t know what you want, or–or what you are, but please don’t—”
“...Wiley?”
Rather than calming, the voice’s state of alarm rose to a level bordering on full-blown panic as I took a step into the space. “Please,” the voice begged. There wasn’t anyone visible from my current vantage point, but I could hear it clearly enough to feel fairly confident that the person attached to it—the person who either had to be Wiley or yet another duplicate of them—was close. “Why are you doing this?”
This was a cabin, I thought, or perhaps a study of some sort, with a rotting wooden desk and a decaying leather chair both covered in a flurry of loose, browned book pages and a thick layer of dust. There were candles littering several surfaces, placed in what appeared not to be any intentional manner. Directly to my right, there was a shelf; its back faced me and the odd placement led me to imagine that it may have been employed to block the door at some time.
It was also, I would have just about bet, the source of the voice.
I nudged a couple of planks and a broken amber bottle out of the way with the toe of my shoe, rounding the shelf to find a crumpled, bloodied Wiley, restrained to the floor by a thick, coarse rope fixed expertly to a bolted tie and holding their bound hands up to shield their face.
“Jesus fuck,” I said. “What happened to you?”
Slowly, they lifted their head. “...Adam?”
Realization dawned on me, and I felt my stomach sink. “Look at me,” I told them. “Look at my eyes.”
They did, their own bloodshot and watery and inherently human, and I watched their shoulders deflate, the defense and terror draining from their form. “There’s someone…something…down here. Or, I guess it still is, anyway. I don’t know where it went, but I don’t wanna be here when it comes back.”
I nodded. “It look like me?”
Wiley nodded back.
“Yeah, there’s one of you upstairs. Not real sure what we’re supposed to do about them, but one thing at a time. Let’s get you up from there.”
It was a struggle, disentangling Wiley from the heavy, abrasive leads coccooning their body, but we got there eventually, and throughout the entirety of the arduous process they gave me the rundown on how, when we’d parted from the solace of the platform, something had instantaneously latched onto them, dragging them down deeper and deeper until their ears popped and their head felt like it was going to explode. They said they’d been knocked out by the pressure, and that when they’d come to, already tied in place and coughing up lungfuls of water, “I” had been standing over them, wielding a large net hook and no mercy.
“I knew it wasn’t you, obviously,” they said, “but I didn’t know where you actually were or if something had, like. Hijacked your body? I don’t know. Anyway, let’s get the fuck out of here.”
We grabbed a couple of candles (the majority had simply been melted into place atop whatever surface they’d adorned, but there was a small collection fitted into slightly-too-small brass holders) and got the fuck out.
Being able to see so little in the space around us was almost more disorienting than the pitch darkness I’d been feeling my way through before. It felt as though we were in a fragile, wavering bubble of reality and nothing existed outside of it.
“Wish I’d been awake coming down here,” Wiley remarked. “Guess I still wouldn’t have seen shit, though.”
“I could…maybe get us back upstairs?” I considered, with little to no confidence. “But I don’t really know what good it would do us. Nowhere to go. Maybe we just…look around down here for a bit? See if we can find anything useful?”
“Yeah, okay,” Wiley assented. “But we’ve gotta be quiet. I don’t want that thing to hear us.”
I certainly couldn’t argue with that.
We wandered hesitantly through the dark, shielding the flames of our candles with cupped palms and praying we wouldn’t misstep. We made it some unsubstantiated quantity of time without incident, but softly, after seconds or minutes or hours, we heard a light rustling from the shadow veiled corridor to our right, and Wiley pulled me into the nearest open room in the opposite direction.
Flattening our backs to the wall, we listened intently as footsteps echoed faintly behind us, cyclically growing closer and then further away again for several moments before disappearing altogether.
I let out a breath I hadn’t known I was holding and uncovered my candle, easing the door of the room to a gentle, silent close. The contents of this one were different from that of the last in that there practically weren’t any. It wasn’t just that it was tidier; there was a chest shoved against the wall nearest us and a leatherbound book of some sort lying in the center of the floor, but otherwise the space was vacant.
Wiley moved first, crouching next to the journal and lifting it from the ground, a cloud of dust rising in the wake of their breath. I knelt down beside them, offering my candlelight so they could discard theirs and open the cover.
Beneath which there was a box.
It was a plain, unadorned wooden rectangle, nestled into the carved-out central pages of the book, and we learned upon extracting it that there was no lock or latch, just a seam indicating the lid’s separation from the body.
I don’t need to spell the whole situation out for you. There was a key in the box. The key opened, you guessed it: the chest. Inside the chest, there were piles of gold and jewels beyond your wildest imagination. We’re rich now. The end.
Nah, JK. But the key in the box did open the chest, in which there was, A) a pair of peeling, pleather driving gloves, and B)...
I felt my heart skip.
A bicycle chain.
I’m not going to get into the nuances of that right now, or maybe ever. But for the purposes of dramatic flair, just know that it was incredibly, pointedly relevant to me, on a level so personal it sucker punched the air straight out of my lungs.
“No,” Wiley said, staggering back a step. “Uh-uh. Nope.”
I put together, then, that the gloves must have been their ticket item. “It’s okay,” I said, on autopilot, because it was not. “There’s something—something’s carved into the bottom of this thing.” Pushing past the reaction every fiber of my being had to the sensation of the frigid metal against my skin, I shoved both the chain and the gloves to the side and could scarcely make out a host of crudely scrawled letters in the wavering light of my half-gone candle.
“What is it?” Wiley asked, making no move to come nearer again.
“Though your…hand…? Heart. Though your heart does pound and knees grow…weak,” I deciphered slowly, “Rid yourself by your… That doesn’t make any sense. Shouldn’t it be of? It says ‘rid yourself by your fear’ and…something. Drain the…clin… No. Drink. Drain the drink.”
“Rid yourself by your fear and drain the drink,” Wiley repeated analytically. “The hell does that mean? Is this shit telling us to kill ourselves with the—oh. Oh. Fuck.”
I was not following. “...I’m not following,” I said.
“It is.” Wiley returned to my side, squatting down and nudging me out of the way with their shoulder to peer warily into the trunk. “It’s telling us to kill ourselves, but not these selves. We’re supposed to use…those…to kill our fuckin’ doppelgangers, or whatever they are. That’s how we get rid of the water.”
“Oh,” I echoed. “Fuck.”
We marinated for a moment in silence before Wiley sighed, resigned, and lifted the gloves from the chest, closing their eyes and pulling the fabric snugly over their hands. “Let’s get to work.”

Okay, I’m gonna level with you. Focusing on current events is just getting a little too fucking heavy. I’m no closer to answers than I was a month ago, none of us can sleep through a full night without waking up shaking and drenched in sweat, and there are some new downright bizarre phenomena cropping up that I just don’t have it in me to allot my energy to at the moment.
So, for today’s installment (and then also for the next one) I’m gonna tell you another good ol’ fun-for-the-whole-family pool story. Yep, you heard that right—welcome to our first bonafide two-parter.
This was quite a while ago. My measure of time is all off by a year now, but I feel fairly confident in chalking it up to post-first pool story, pre-ouija board fiasco—so however long ago that’s been now.
It was a weird, rare night, in that Matt was out. Not an unheard of occurrence, but it’s fairly anomalous, and it certainly puts the rest of us on slightly higher alert.
Obviously, he always tells us to call him at the first sign of some shit going down and to use our best judgment to determine whether it’s serious enough to lock up and head out. Better safe than sorry and all that. The night in question was no exception to the rule.
Overall, though, things were mostly quiet. Alice was in, as was I, as was Wiley. We do a lot of congregating, but we do a lot of work, too, and this night, we were all in our respective areas, doing our respective jobs.
I was in my not-office mending a finicky Shakespeare anthology, Alice was watching the desk while working on cataloging a truckload of new donations, and Wiley was replacing several lightbulbs that had all decided to call it quits after our most recent power outage (this one due to a flash-flood).
It was calm to an almost uncharacteristic degree. There was a relatively steady flow of patrons in and out of the building—I could hear Alice greeting them and wishing them a good evening—but as far as anomalous activity, there was none.
It does happen, on rare occasion, that we make it through a full night without any goings on, but there’s almost always at least the odd disembodied voice or two.
We should’ve known better than to trust a meteor shower.
See, there’s just something about natural anomalies. Not just the ones that knock our power out, either, although those are clearly included. Blizzards, thunderstorms, hail and tornados and earthquakes and all your run-of-the-mill destructive shit, sure. But the things of beauty, too. Rainbows. Eclipses, lunar or solar. And you think full moons hit emergency rooms hard? Try this fucking place.
It was just that a meteor shower wasn’t one we’d dealt with before. Does that mean we shouldn’t have known better? Fuck no. Obviously not. But perhaps our collective greatest fault is that we still have some semblance of hope.
Wiley wanted to look at it from the roof. Kid never fucking wants to do anything, and they were set to climb up and camp out alone. I couldn’t not entertain such an innocent, youthful whim.
Our roof access doesn’t have stairs—just a ladder—so Alice couldn’t accompany us, which I felt shitty about, but she assured me it was perfectly fine with her.
“The world decided I didn’t need functional legs so I could never be peer pressured into leaving the ground,” she quipped. “I’m not into heights. But y’all have fun up there. Somebody needs to be here for the patrons anyway.”
Fair and fair. So Wiley and I gathered up an armful of blankets and one of Matt’s trusty camping lanterns and headed out to scale the building.
Wiley went up ahead of me. That was my first mistake.
Really, they aren’t that much younger than I am. Maybe four or five years, and I’m too close to thirty for comfort now. But there’s something about them, even as far as they’ve come, that makes it impossible for me not to do everything in my power to protect them. I think Matt feels the same way. Maybe most of us do.
Anyway, that’s why I immediately started cursing myself when they reached the top of the ladder, pulled their way up and over the ledge of the roof, and said, “...Whoa.”
My second mistake was not immediately telling them to turn around and start climbing right the fuck back down.
I knew exactly what that tone of voice meant. But something in me just kicked into hyperdrive and I…had to see it. Whatever it was, I had to see it for myself.
“Don’t move,” I said, and then, “What is it?”
But by that point, I was at the top, too. I hoisted myself over the ledge and was met with…
…Water.
It was everywhere. Extending in every direction. There was no edge in sight—not even a horizon line. Just vast, dark water as far as the eye could see.
“Okay. This is not—let’s go.”
“Yeah,” Wiley agreed, a little breathless.
I’m sure you’ll be downright shocked to learn that, when we turned around, the ladder was gone.
The edge of the rooftop was, too.
The thing that surprised me, really, was that it wasn’t as though we were standing on some sort of island. We were somehow in the water all of a sudden, up to our waists, neither of us having taken a single step.
“Fucking…shit. Jesus. Adam?”
“We’re fine,” was my default response, because my anxiety override kicks in like a motherfucker as soon as someone else is more openly afraid than I am. “It’s okay, let’s just—let’s think for a second. Maybe it’s just, like, an illusion or something.”
“Okay,” Wiley said. “Maybe we should…try moving?”
“Yeah. Yeah, we’ll bump the ledge and then we can just feel for the ladder. Good idea.”
Wiley and I shared a look, wordlessly nodding to one another, and stepped forward in unison.
Maybe I misspoke before, when I said we weren’t on a platform. It was just that our platform wasn’t above the water. Now, though, there was nothing.
It felt, almost, like the stomach-turning sensation of missing a step walking up a staircase. The only difference was that there was no moment-too-late connection.
We plummeted.
There wasn’t any difference in temperature beneath the surface, which was, in a way, more disorienting than the water itself. The mental recalibration that typically comes with plunging into a cool lake or, adversely, a heated pool wasn’t allotted an opportunity to take place. It felt, for most intents and purposes, the same as being in the air, just that I couldn’t breathe.
It was heavy, too. The weightlessness water tends to embody was null; I immediately abandoned everything I’d been carrying, clawing my way upward frantically enough that it would’ve been mortifying, I’m sure, had anyone witnessed it.
Wiley resurfaced at the same moment I did—empty handed as well, I noted—coughing a little but not to the extent that I was worried they were choking. “Next idea?” they asked, pushing their wet hair back from their face, dark, damp lashes obscuring their eyes.
“Let’s get back on the…” I started, but trailed off when I raised my head.
A couple hundred yards out from us, there was a ship. It was a dark, hulking thing, with tattered sails and something indistinguishable affixed to the bow, glittering and glinting in the moonlight.
Wiley spun around to face it, drifting back slightly when their gaze landed parallel to mine. “What the fuck is that?” they demanded, legs kicking haphazardly beneath the water to keep them in place.
“Maybe it’s…good,” I said. I knew better than that and I knew Wiley did, too, but I said it anyway. “Maybe someone will help.”
They didn’t even humor me with a response to that bullshit.
Now, at this point in the story, maybe you’re thinking being suddenly surrounded by water and watching as an ominous ship approached us with absolutely nowhere to go and no way to escape doesn’t feel quite enough like imminent condemnation. To which I say to you: not to worry. Because the next realization we came to was that the platform we’d been standing on previously had suddenly ceased to exist.
“Shit,” Wiley said. “Shit, shit, shit. Adam.”
“I know,” I said. “It’s fine. We’re fine. We just—we’re gonna—follow me.”
I don’t know. I don’t know what the fuck possessed me to swim toward the Obvious Death Ship. I guess just that there wasn’t anything else save for open water anywhere so it essentially felt like our options were paddle around until we were exhausted and drown or face a quicker, simpler demise.
“You better have a fucking plan, bro,” Wiley intoned from behind me, which I chivalrously pretended not to hear, because I did not, in fact, have a fucking plan.
The closer we drew to the vessel, the more unbelievably monstrous it appeared to become. It loomed above us, casting a shadow over everything in its direct path, and the sinking in my stomach almost convinced me to turn around. Almost.
But then something curled around my ankle. It was slick and strong, and there wasn’t a doubt in my mind that whatever it was could’ve pulled me under and eaten me alive in a fraction of a second.
Luckily for me, it wasn’t interested. It let go as quickly as it had latched on, almost as though it was simply using me as a handrail to move itself along. Still, though, the knowledge that it was there was all the motivation I needed to push forward ever faster. I didn’t say anything—didn’t want to add more fuel to Wiley’s panicked fire—just picked up my pace and swam up to their side.
“There’s a ladder,” they informed me, raising a hand and pointing toward the back half of the ship.
Indeed, there was a ladder. It was a tattered, worn thing, comprised of old, fraying rope and rotting, untreated wooden boards, but it looked composed enough that I figured we could likely make it up if we were swift.
“Bet,” I said. “Let’s go.”
We went.
Up close, the ladder appeared even shoddier than it had when we’d first seen it. I reached out of the water and wrapped my fingers around the rope at the bottom, giving it a hearty tug. To my slight surprise, it held fast.
“I think we’re good,” I told Wiley. “I’ll go up first and tell you what I see.”
“Be careful,” they said, but didn’t protest, just backed up enough for me to get the leverage I needed to hoist myself onto the bottom board.
I climbed warily, overly conscious of every creak of the wood bowing beneath my weight, every groan of the fibers of rope under my hands, but made it without incident to the top.
Once there, I grabbed onto the ship’s edge, lifting my gaze to take in whatever lie before me.
It was…nothing. I mean, it was a ship, obviously. But there wasn’t anything on board. No apparent crew nor cargo nor even a captain manning the helm. Granted, I couldn’t see perfectly, but the moon shone brightly enough that I was fairly confident in my observation that the deck was devoid of anything but its own shiplap floor.
“Hello?” I called, because I wasn’t about to beckon Wiley up if some fucked shit was going to pop out of nowhere the second we made a sound.
Nothing responded. Nothing moved. The ship rocked gently on the impossible water, as silent and vacant as it had been a moment before.
“Good?” Wiley questioned nervously from below me.
“Yeah,” I told them, easing myself off the ladder and down into the confines of the vessel. “Come on.”
They did so tenuously but still more swiftly than I had, climbing aboard and landing next to me with a dampened thunk.
We allowed ourselves the briefest of moments to catch our breath, silently rejoicing in the small win that was having found solace from the pool itself. Not that we had any idea what to do or where to go from here, but at the very least, we weren’t drowning.
“Okay,” I said, clearing the unease from my throat. “I don’t know what good trying to steer this thing would do us—there’s nothing but water no matter where we go. But maybe there’s something here somewhere that’ll help us figure out how to get back. So I think we just…start looking around?”
Wiley nodded. “Cool. Split halves, front and back?”
Nooo, Adam, don’t split up! Never split up! I know. I can literally hear you screaming it at me. And actually, for once in my life, I considered that something might be a horrible fucking idea before acting on it.
But then I saw something.
As I turned back to respond, Wiley’s eyes shimmered, dancing in the moonlight.
They were silver and mercurial, with no pupils or whites in sight.
Whatever had come back up from underwater, it was not my coworker.
I swallowed, forcing my expression to remain as neutral as I was able and praying whatever was standing in front of me didn’t notice I’d caught on. My entire body was instantaneously covered in chills, in a way that I understood to have the same purpose as a dog’s hackles rising. “Sounds good,” I said. “I’ll take the front.”
I headed in the opposite direction of the thing wearing Wiley’s face (at a pace that I hoped didn’t appear hurried but one that would remove me in a timely manner from the vicinity) and didn’t stop until I’d reached the front of the ship, breathing heavily and attempting to slow my reeling mind.
I didn’t know what to tackle first. I didn’t know where Wiley was, or if they were anywhere—if they were even still alive. I didn’t know what my next move should be. I didn’t know what I was looking for or where I might find it.
It’s rare that I feel utterly hopeless, to the degree that I genuinely contemplate just sitting down and giving up, but in this instance, I thought long and hard about how easy it would be to succumb. I’d let the unthinkable happen. Wiley was gone. No one else had been here with them—there was no one else to blame. Just me. Only me.
…You’ll be glad to know that the self-pity didn’t last long. Embarrassing, honestly.
If I was the only one here, it meant I was the only shot they had at making it out alive. Our version of ‘innocent until proven guilty’ had always been ‘alive until proven dead’ and I wasn’t about to turn my back on the insane streak of luck we’d had up until this point. Not a single one of our lives had been lost, and we’d been in the midst of some absolute shitstorms. There was no reason to believe that right now, tonight, was an outlier. I couldn’t lie down like a sick dog and wonder if Wiley was still out there somewhere, suffering until the bitter, bloody end. I had to find them. By whatever means necessary, as long as it took, I had to find them.
I pushed off the railing before me and spun on my heel, eyes flitting back and forth to assess my options as efficiently as possible, and after a moment, I registered that fitted flush against the large front mast, there was a door.
It was only a sliver, thin and not particularly extraordinary in height, but there was a handle carved roughly into its right side and a set of rust-riddled hinges on its left.
I took about half a second to weigh my options and then reached for it, curling my fingers around the handle and giving it a generous tug.
The hinges, unsurprisingly, complained, but not loudly and not for long. The door gave way with little resistance, and opened up to my worst fucking nightmare.
A set of stairs, descending into blackness.
I mean, I guess if I’m being fair, my first pool encounter had featured a staircase leading to the pool rather than away from it, but I didn’t feel like there could possibly be good news awaiting me below deck of a ship where I’d just encountered a fucking mimic.
Still, though, there was a niggling insistence in my brain (not that kind, come on) that it was my only lead on finding Wiley if they were, in fact, somewhere on board. So I cast one last glance over my shoulder and stepped into the dark, letting the door fall closed behind me.
It smelled different, instantly, from the open air above. Mustier, which was to be expected, but also almost sweet somehow. I tried, unsuccessfully, to shove my true-crime-podcast-addled brain’s helpful reminder that the scent of human death is said to be sweet into a mental lockbox and put my hand to the wall, easing tentatively down to the second step.
The visibility wasn’t just low—it was practically zero. If you’ve ever been on a cave tour and had a guide cut the lights and instruct you to lift your hand to your face to demonstrate the complete absence of light, it was nearly that intense. The placing of both feet on each concurrent stair was an arduous, calculated process, but finally, after approximately one (1) century, I reached flat ground. I still couldn’t see, and there was no definitive way to tell whether I was standing on the floor or just a landing without thoroughly feeling out the space around me, so I reluctantly departed from the wall, scooting my feet in small, tentative motions and keeping both arms partially outstretched before me.
After a (l o n g) moment, I determined that either this was the world’s largest landing or I’d made it all the way down. I had no idea whether I was in a singular, enormous room, or if there were individual cabins, or if I was about to run face-first into the grim fucking reaper.
And then I turned to my left.
There was a light.
It was so, so faint. Flickering. Barely discernible, its warm, gentle glow ever so shyly illuminating the cracks around what appeared to be another closed door.
Being the only visible thing in my line of sight, in any direction, it emitted the aura of both a beacon and an omen.
I headed towards it.
I was about half afraid I was stuck in a horror movie situation where no matter how long I walked it would never grow any closer, but fortunately, that didn’t seem to be the case. I actually gained on it more quickly than I felt I should have for the speed I was moving, but I wasn’t going to complain about reaching the end of the nothingness in commendable time.
I ran my fingertips along the edge of the door and, sure enough, there was a carved-in handle, just like the last.
It opened just as effortlessly, and yellow candlelight rolled dimly out to greet me, lapping at my waterlogged clothes.
“Please,” came a quiet, terrified voice from inside the room. “Please don’t. I don’t know what you want, or–or what you are, but please don’t—”
“...Wiley?”
Rather than calming, the voice’s state of alarm rose to a level bordering on full-blown panic as I took a step into the space. “Please,” the voice begged. There wasn’t anyone visible from my current vantage point, but I could hear it clearly enough to feel fairly confident that the person attached to it—the person who either had to be Wiley or yet another duplicate of them—was close. “Why are you doing this?”
This was a cabin, I thought, or perhaps a study of some sort, with a rotting wooden desk and a decaying leather chair both covered in a flurry of loose, browned book pages and a thick layer of dust. There were candles littering several surfaces, placed in what appeared not to be any intentional manner. Directly to my right, there was a shelf; its back faced me and the odd placement led me to imagine that it may have been employed to block the door at some time.
It was also, I would have just about bet, the source of the voice.
I nudged a couple of planks and a broken amber bottle out of the way with the toe of my shoe, rounding the shelf to find a crumpled, bloodied Wiley, restrained to the floor by a thick, coarse rope fixed expertly to a bolted tie and holding their bound hands up to shield their face.
“Jesus fuck,” I said. “What happened to you?”
Slowly, they lifted their head. “...Adam?”
Realization dawned on me, and I felt my stomach sink. “Look at me,” I told them. “Look at my eyes.”
They did, their own bloodshot and watery and inherently human, and I watched their shoulders deflate, the defense and terror draining from their form. “There’s someone…something…down here. Or, I guess it still is, anyway. I don’t know where it went, but I don’t wanna be here when it comes back.”
I nodded. “It look like me?”
Wiley nodded back.
“Yeah, there’s one of you upstairs. Not real sure what we’re supposed to do about them, but one thing at a time. Let’s get you up from there.”
It was a struggle, disentangling Wiley from the heavy, abrasive leads coccooning their body, but we got there eventually, and throughout the entirety of the arduous process they gave me the rundown on how, when we’d parted from the solace of the platform, something had instantaneously latched onto them, dragging them down deeper and deeper until their ears popped and their head felt like it was going to explode. They said they’d been knocked out by the pressure, and that when they’d come to, already tied in place and coughing up lungfuls of water, “I” had been standing over them, wielding a large net hook and no mercy.
“I knew it wasn’t you, obviously,” they said, “but I didn’t know where you actually were or if something had, like. Hijacked your body? I don’t know. Anyway, let’s get the fuck out of here.”
We grabbed a couple of candles (the majority had simply been melted into place atop whatever surface they’d adorned, but there was a small collection fitted into slightly-too-small brass holders) and got the fuck out.
Being able to see so little in the space around us was almost more disorienting than the pitch darkness I’d been feeling my way through before. It felt as though we were in a fragile, wavering bubble of reality and nothing existed outside of it.
“Wish I’d been awake coming down here,” Wiley remarked. “Guess I still wouldn’t have seen shit, though.”
“I could…maybe get us back upstairs?” I considered, with little to no confidence. “But I don’t really know what good it would do us. Nowhere to go. Maybe we just…look around down here for a bit? See if we can find anything useful?”
“Yeah, okay,” Wiley assented. “But we’ve gotta be quiet. I don’t want that thing to hear us.”
I certainly couldn’t argue with that.
We wandered hesitantly through the dark, shielding the flames of our candles with cupped palms and praying we wouldn’t misstep. We made it some unsubstantiated quantity of time without incident, but softly, after seconds or minutes or hours, we heard a light rustling from the shadow veiled corridor to our right, and Wiley pulled me into the nearest open room in the opposite direction.
Flattening our backs to the wall, we listened intently as footsteps echoed faintly behind us, cyclically growing closer and then further away again for several moments before disappearing altogether.
I let out a breath I hadn’t known I was holding and uncovered my candle, easing the door of the room to a gentle, silent close. The contents of this one were different from that of the last in that there practically weren’t any. It wasn’t just that it was tidier; there was a chest shoved against the wall nearest us and a leatherbound book of some sort lying in the center of the floor, but otherwise the space was vacant.
Wiley moved first, crouching next to the journal and lifting it from the ground, a cloud of dust rising in the wake of their breath. I knelt down beside them, offering my candlelight so they could discard theirs and open the cover.
Beneath which there was a box.
It was a plain, unadorned wooden rectangle, nestled into the carved-out central pages of the book, and we learned upon extracting it that there was no lock or latch, just a seam indicating the lid’s separation from the body.
I don’t need to spell the whole situation out for you. There was a key in the box. The key opened, you guessed it: the chest. Inside the chest, there were piles of gold and jewels beyond your wildest imagination. We’re rich now. The end.
Nah, JK. But the key in the box did open the chest, in which there was, A) a pair of peeling, pleather driving gloves, and B)...
I felt my heart skip.
A bicycle chain.
I’m not going to get into the nuances of that right now, or maybe ever. But for the purposes of dramatic flair, just know that it was incredibly, pointedly relevant to me, on a level so personal it sucker punched the air straight out of my lungs.
“No,” Wiley said, staggering back a step. “Uh-uh. Nope.”
I put together, then, that the gloves must have been their ticket item. “It’s okay,” I said, on autopilot, because it was not. “There’s something—something’s carved into the bottom of this thing.” Pushing past the reaction every fiber of my being had to the sensation of the frigid metal against my skin, I shoved both the chain and the gloves to the side and could scarcely make out a host of crudely scrawled letters in the wavering light of my half-gone candle.
“What is it?” Wiley asked, making no move to come nearer again.
“Though your…hand…? Heart. Though your heart does pound and knees grow…weak,” I deciphered slowly, “Rid yourself by your… That doesn’t make any sense. Shouldn’t it be of? It says ‘rid yourself by your fear’ and…something. Drain the…clin… No. Drink. Drain the drink.”
“Rid yourself by your fear and drain the drink,” Wiley repeated analytically. “The hell does that mean? Is this shit telling us to kill ourselves with the—oh. Oh. Fuck.”
I was not following. “...I’m not following,” I said.
“It is.” Wiley returned to my side, squatting down and nudging me out of the way with their shoulder to peer warily into the trunk. “It’s telling us to kill ourselves, but not these selves. We’re supposed to use…those…to kill our fuckin’ doppelgangers, or whatever they are. That’s how we get rid of the water.”
“Oh,” I echoed. “Fuck.”
We marinated for a moment in silence before Wiley sighed, resigned, and lifted the gloves from the chest, closing their eyes and pulling the fabric snugly over their hands. “Let’s get to work.”

Okay, I’m gonna level with you. Focusing on current events is just getting a little too fucking heavy. I’m no closer to answers than I was a month ago, none of us can sleep through a full night without waking up shaking and drenched in sweat, and there are some new downright bizarre phenomena cropping up that I just don’t have it in me to allot my energy to at the moment.
So, for today’s installment (and then also for the next one) I’m gonna tell you another good ol’ fun-for-the-whole-family pool story. Yep, you heard that right—welcome to our first bonafide two-parter.
This was quite a while ago. My measure of time is all off by a year now, but I feel fairly confident in chalking it up to post-first pool story, pre-ouija board fiasco—so however long ago that’s been now.
It was a weird, rare night, in that Matt was out. Not an unheard of occurrence, but it’s fairly anomalous, and it certainly puts the rest of us on slightly higher alert.
Obviously, he always tells us to call him at the first sign of some shit going down and to use our best judgment to determine whether it’s serious enough to lock up and head out. Better safe than sorry and all that. The night in question was no exception to the rule.
Overall, though, things were mostly quiet. Alice was in, as was I, as was Wiley. We do a lot of congregating, but we do a lot of work, too, and this night, we were all in our respective areas, doing our respective jobs.
I was in my not-office mending a finicky Shakespeare anthology, Alice was watching the desk while working on cataloging a truckload of new donations, and Wiley was replacing several lightbulbs that had all decided to call it quits after our most recent power outage (this one due to a flash-flood).
It was calm to an almost uncharacteristic degree. There was a relatively steady flow of patrons in and out of the building—I could hear Alice greeting them and wishing them a good evening—but as far as anomalous activity, there was none.
It does happen, on rare occasion, that we make it through a full night without any goings on, but there’s almost always at least the odd disembodied voice or two.
We should’ve known better than to trust a meteor shower.
See, there’s just something about natural anomalies. Not just the ones that knock our power out, either, although those are clearly included. Blizzards, thunderstorms, hail and tornados and earthquakes and all your run-of-the-mill destructive shit, sure. But the things of beauty, too. Rainbows. Eclipses, lunar or solar. And you think full moons hit emergency rooms hard? Try this fucking place.
It was just that a meteor shower wasn’t one we’d dealt with before. Does that mean we shouldn’t have known better? Fuck no. Obviously not. But perhaps our collective greatest fault is that we still have some semblance of hope.
Wiley wanted to look at it from the roof. Kid never fucking wants to do anything, and they were set to climb up and camp out alone. I couldn’t not entertain such an innocent, youthful whim.
Our roof access doesn’t have stairs—just a ladder—so Alice couldn’t accompany us, which I felt shitty about, but she assured me it was perfectly fine with her.
“The world decided I didn’t need functional legs so I could never be peer pressured into leaving the ground,” she quipped. “I’m not into heights. But y’all have fun up there. Somebody needs to be here for the patrons anyway.”
Fair and fair. So Wiley and I gathered up an armful of blankets and one of Matt’s trusty camping lanterns and headed out to scale the building.
Wiley went up ahead of me. That was my first mistake.
Really, they aren’t that much younger than I am. Maybe four or five years, and I’m too close to thirty for comfort now. But there’s something about them, even as far as they’ve come, that makes it impossible for me not to do everything in my power to protect them. I think Matt feels the same way. Maybe most of us do.
Anyway, that’s why I immediately started cursing myself when they reached the top of the ladder, pulled their way up and over the ledge of the roof, and said, “...Whoa.”
My second mistake was not immediately telling them to turn around and start climbing right the fuck back down.
I knew exactly what that tone of voice meant. But something in me just kicked into hyperdrive and I…had to see it. Whatever it was, I had to see it for myself.
“Don’t move,” I said, and then, “What is it?”
But by that point, I was at the top, too. I hoisted myself over the ledge and was met with…
…Water.
It was everywhere. Extending in every direction. There was no edge in sight—not even a horizon line. Just vast, dark water as far as the eye could see.
“Okay. This is not—let’s go.”
“Yeah,” Wiley agreed, a little breathless.
I’m sure you’ll be downright shocked to learn that, when we turned around, the ladder was gone.
The edge of the rooftop was, too.
The thing that surprised me, really, was that it wasn’t as though we were standing on some sort of island. We were somehow in the water all of a sudden, up to our waists, neither of us having taken a single step.
“Fucking…shit. Jesus. Adam?”
“We’re fine,” was my default response, because my anxiety override kicks in like a motherfucker as soon as someone else is more openly afraid than I am. “It’s okay, let’s just—let’s think for a second. Maybe it’s just, like, an illusion or something.”
“Okay,” Wiley said. “Maybe we should…try moving?”
“Yeah. Yeah, we’ll bump the ledge and then we can just feel for the ladder. Good idea.”
Wiley and I shared a look, wordlessly nodding to one another, and stepped forward in unison.
Maybe I misspoke before, when I said we weren’t on a platform. It was just that our platform wasn’t above the water. Now, though, there was nothing.
It felt, almost, like the stomach-turning sensation of missing a step walking up a staircase. The only difference was that there was no moment-too-late connection.
We plummeted.
There wasn’t any difference in temperature beneath the surface, which was, in a way, more disorienting than the water itself. The mental recalibration that typically comes with plunging into a cool lake or, adversely, a heated pool wasn’t allotted an opportunity to take place. It felt, for most intents and purposes, the same as being in the air, just that I couldn’t breathe.
It was heavy, too. The weightlessness water tends to embody was null; I immediately abandoned everything I’d been carrying, clawing my way upward frantically enough that it would’ve been mortifying, I’m sure, had anyone witnessed it.
Wiley resurfaced at the same moment I did—empty handed as well, I noted—coughing a little but not to the extent that I was worried they were choking. “Next idea?” they asked, pushing their wet hair back from their face, dark, damp lashes obscuring their eyes.
“Let’s get back on the…” I started, but trailed off when I raised my head.
A couple hundred yards out from us, there was a ship. It was a dark, hulking thing, with tattered sails and something indistinguishable affixed to the bow, glittering and glinting in the moonlight.
Wiley spun around to face it, drifting back slightly when their gaze landed parallel to mine. “What the fuck is that?” they demanded, legs kicking haphazardly beneath the water to keep them in place.
“Maybe it’s…good,” I said. I knew better than that and I knew Wiley did, too, but I said it anyway. “Maybe someone will help.”
They didn’t even humor me with a response to that bullshit.
Now, at this point in the story, maybe you’re thinking being suddenly surrounded by water and watching as an ominous ship approached us with absolutely nowhere to go and no way to escape doesn’t feel quite enough like imminent condemnation. To which I say to you: not to worry. Because the next realization we came to was that the platform we’d been standing on previously had suddenly ceased to exist.
“Shit,” Wiley said. “Shit, shit, shit. Adam.”
“I know,” I said. “It’s fine. We’re fine. We just—we’re gonna—follow me.”
I don’t know. I don’t know what the fuck possessed me to swim toward the Obvious Death Ship. I guess just that there wasn’t anything else save for open water anywhere so it essentially felt like our options were paddle around until we were exhausted and drown or face a quicker, simpler demise.
“You better have a fucking plan, bro,” Wiley intoned from behind me, which I chivalrously pretended not to hear, because I did not, in fact, have a fucking plan.
The closer we drew to the vessel, the more unbelievably monstrous it appeared to become. It loomed above us, casting a shadow over everything in its direct path, and the sinking in my stomach almost convinced me to turn around. Almost.
But then something curled around my ankle. It was slick and strong, and there wasn’t a doubt in my mind that whatever it was could’ve pulled me under and eaten me alive in a fraction of a second.
Luckily for me, it wasn’t interested. It let go as quickly as it had latched on, almost as though it was simply using me as a handrail to move itself along. Still, though, the knowledge that it was there was all the motivation I needed to push forward ever faster. I didn’t say anything—didn’t want to add more fuel to Wiley’s panicked fire—just picked up my pace and swam up to their side.
“There’s a ladder,” they informed me, raising a hand and pointing toward the back half of the ship.
Indeed, there was a ladder. It was a tattered, worn thing, comprised of old, fraying rope and rotting, untreated wooden boards, but it looked composed enough that I figured we could likely make it up if we were swift.
“Bet,” I said. “Let’s go.”
We went.
Up close, the ladder appeared even shoddier than it had when we’d first seen it. I reached out of the water and wrapped my fingers around the rope at the bottom, giving it a hearty tug. To my slight surprise, it held fast.
“I think we’re good,” I told Wiley. “I’ll go up first and tell you what I see.”
“Be careful,” they said, but didn’t protest, just backed up enough for me to get the leverage I needed to hoist myself onto the bottom board.
I climbed warily, overly conscious of every creak of the wood bowing beneath my weight, every groan of the fibers of rope under my hands, but made it without incident to the top.
Once there, I grabbed onto the ship’s edge, lifting my gaze to take in whatever lie before me.
It was…nothing. I mean, it was a ship, obviously. But there wasn’t anything on board. No apparent crew nor cargo nor even a captain manning the helm. Granted, I couldn’t see perfectly, but the moon shone brightly enough that I was fairly confident in my observation that the deck was devoid of anything but its own shiplap floor.
“Hello?” I called, because I wasn’t about to beckon Wiley up if some fucked shit was going to pop out of nowhere the second we made a sound.
Nothing responded. Nothing moved. The ship rocked gently on the impossible water, as silent and vacant as it had been a moment before.
“Good?” Wiley questioned nervously from below me.
“Yeah,” I told them, easing myself off the ladder and down into the confines of the vessel. “Come on.”
They did so tenuously but still more swiftly than I had, climbing aboard and landing next to me with a dampened thunk.
We allowed ourselves the briefest of moments to catch our breath, silently rejoicing in the small win that was having found solace from the pool itself. Not that we had any idea what to do or where to go from here, but at the very least, we weren’t drowning.
“Okay,” I said, clearing the unease from my throat. “I don’t know what good trying to steer this thing would do us—there’s nothing but water no matter where we go. But maybe there’s something here somewhere that’ll help us figure out how to get back. So I think we just…start looking around?”
Wiley nodded. “Cool. Split halves, front and back?”
Nooo, Adam, don’t split up! Never split up! I know. I can literally hear you screaming it at me. And actually, for once in my life, I considered that something might be a horrible fucking idea before acting on it.
But then I saw something.
As I turned back to respond, Wiley’s eyes shimmered, dancing in the moonlight.
They were silver and mercurial, with no pupils or whites in sight.
Whatever had come back up from underwater, it was not my coworker.
I swallowed, forcing my expression to remain as neutral as I was able and praying whatever was standing in front of me didn’t notice I’d caught on. My entire body was instantaneously covered in chills, in a way that I understood to have the same purpose as a dog’s hackles rising. “Sounds good,” I said. “I’ll take the front.”
I headed in the opposite direction of the thing wearing Wiley’s face (at a pace that I hoped didn’t appear hurried but one that would remove me in a timely manner from the vicinity) and didn’t stop until I’d reached the front of the ship, breathing heavily and attempting to slow my reeling mind.
I didn’t know what to tackle first. I didn’t know where Wiley was, or if they were anywhere—if they were even still alive. I didn’t know what my next move should be. I didn’t know what I was looking for or where I might find it.
It’s rare that I feel utterly hopeless, to the degree that I genuinely contemplate just sitting down and giving up, but in this instance, I thought long and hard about how easy it would be to succumb. I’d let the unthinkable happen. Wiley was gone. No one else had been here with them—there was no one else to blame. Just me. Only me.
…You’ll be glad to know that the self-pity didn’t last long. Embarrassing, honestly.
If I was the only one here, it meant I was the only shot they had at making it out alive. Our version of ‘innocent until proven guilty’ had always been ‘alive until proven dead’ and I wasn’t about to turn my back on the insane streak of luck we’d had up until this point. Not a single one of our lives had been lost, and we’d been in the midst of some absolute shitstorms. There was no reason to believe that right now, tonight, was an outlier. I couldn’t lie down like a sick dog and wonder if Wiley was still out there somewhere, suffering until the bitter, bloody end. I had to find them. By whatever means necessary, as long as it took, I had to find them.
I pushed off the railing before me and spun on my heel, eyes flitting back and forth to assess my options as efficiently as possible, and after a moment, I registered that fitted flush against the large front mast, there was a door.
It was only a sliver, thin and not particularly extraordinary in height, but there was a handle carved roughly into its right side and a set of rust-riddled hinges on its left.
I took about half a second to weigh my options and then reached for it, curling my fingers around the handle and giving it a generous tug.
The hinges, unsurprisingly, complained, but not loudly and not for long. The door gave way with little resistance, and opened up to my worst fucking nightmare.
A set of stairs, descending into blackness.
I mean, I guess if I’m being fair, my first pool encounter had featured a staircase leading to the pool rather than away from it, but I didn’t feel like there could possibly be good news awaiting me below deck of a ship where I’d just encountered a fucking mimic.
Still, though, there was a niggling insistence in my brain (not that kind, come on) that it was my only lead on finding Wiley if they were, in fact, somewhere on board. So I cast one last glance over my shoulder and stepped into the dark, letting the door fall closed behind me.
It smelled different, instantly, from the open air above. Mustier, which was to be expected, but also almost sweet somehow. I tried, unsuccessfully, to shove my true-crime-podcast-addled brain’s helpful reminder that the scent of human death is said to be sweet into a mental lockbox and put my hand to the wall, easing tentatively down to the second step.
The visibility wasn’t just low—it was practically zero. If you’ve ever been on a cave tour and had a guide cut the lights and instruct you to lift your hand to your face to demonstrate the complete absence of light, it was nearly that intense. The placing of both feet on each concurrent stair was an arduous, calculated process, but finally, after approximately one (1) century, I reached flat ground. I still couldn’t see, and there was no definitive way to tell whether I was standing on the floor or just a landing without thoroughly feeling out the space around me, so I reluctantly departed from the wall, scooting my feet in small, tentative motions and keeping both arms partially outstretched before me.
After a (l o n g) moment, I determined that either this was the world’s largest landing or I’d made it all the way down. I had no idea whether I was in a singular, enormous room, or if there were individual cabins, or if I was about to run face-first into the grim fucking reaper.
And then I turned to my left.
There was a light.
It was so, so faint. Flickering. Barely discernible, its warm, gentle glow ever so shyly illuminating the cracks around what appeared to be another closed door.
Being the only visible thing in my line of sight, in any direction, it emitted the aura of both a beacon and an omen.
I headed towards it.
I was about half afraid I was stuck in a horror movie situation where no matter how long I walked it would never grow any closer, but fortunately, that didn’t seem to be the case. I actually gained on it more quickly than I felt I should have for the speed I was moving, but I wasn’t going to complain about reaching the end of the nothingness in commendable time.
I ran my fingertips along the edge of the door and, sure enough, there was a carved-in handle, just like the last.
It opened just as effortlessly, and yellow candlelight rolled dimly out to greet me, lapping at my waterlogged clothes.
“Please,” came a quiet, terrified voice from inside the room. “Please don’t. I don’t know what you want, or–or what you are, but please don’t—”
“...Wiley?”
Rather than calming, the voice’s state of alarm rose to a level bordering on full-blown panic as I took a step into the space. “Please,” the voice begged. There wasn’t anyone visible from my current vantage point, but I could hear it clearly enough to feel fairly confident that the person attached to it—the person who either had to be Wiley or yet another duplicate of them—was close. “Why are you doing this?”
This was a cabin, I thought, or perhaps a study of some sort, with a rotting wooden desk and a decaying leather chair both covered in a flurry of loose, browned book pages and a thick layer of dust. There were candles littering several surfaces, placed in what appeared not to be any intentional manner. Directly to my right, there was a shelf; its back faced me and the odd placement led me to imagine that it may have been employed to block the door at some time.
It was also, I would have just about bet, the source of the voice.
I nudged a couple of planks and a broken amber bottle out of the way with the toe of my shoe, rounding the shelf to find a crumpled, bloodied Wiley, restrained to the floor by a thick, coarse rope fixed expertly to a bolted tie and holding their bound hands up to shield their face.
“Jesus fuck,” I said. “What happened to you?”
Slowly, they lifted their head. “...Adam?”
Realization dawned on me, and I felt my stomach sink. “Look at me,” I told them. “Look at my eyes.”
They did, their own bloodshot and watery and inherently human, and I watched their shoulders deflate, the defense and terror draining from their form. “There’s someone…something…down here. Or, I guess it still is, anyway. I don’t know where it went, but I don’t wanna be here when it comes back.”
I nodded. “It look like me?”
Wiley nodded back.
“Yeah, there’s one of you upstairs. Not real sure what we’re supposed to do about them, but one thing at a time. Let’s get you up from there.”
It was a struggle, disentangling Wiley from the heavy, abrasive leads coccooning their body, but we got there eventually, and throughout the entirety of the arduous process they gave me the rundown on how, when we’d parted from the solace of the platform, something had instantaneously latched onto them, dragging them down deeper and deeper until their ears popped and their head felt like it was going to explode. They said they’d been knocked out by the pressure, and that when they’d come to, already tied in place and coughing up lungfuls of water, “I” had been standing over them, wielding a large net hook and no mercy.
“I knew it wasn’t you, obviously,” they said, “but I didn’t know where you actually were or if something had, like. Hijacked your body? I don’t know. Anyway, let’s get the fuck out of here.”
We grabbed a couple of candles (the majority had simply been melted into place atop whatever surface they’d adorned, but there was a small collection fitted into slightly-too-small brass holders) and got the fuck out.
Being able to see so little in the space around us was almost more disorienting than the pitch darkness I’d been feeling my way through before. It felt as though we were in a fragile, wavering bubble of reality and nothing existed outside of it.
“Wish I’d been awake coming down here,” Wiley remarked. “Guess I still wouldn’t have seen shit, though.”
“I could…maybe get us back upstairs?” I considered, with little to no confidence. “But I don’t really know what good it would do us. Nowhere to go. Maybe we just…look around down here for a bit? See if we can find anything useful?”
“Yeah, okay,” Wiley assented. “But we’ve gotta be quiet. I don’t want that thing to hear us.”
I certainly couldn’t argue with that.
We wandered hesitantly through the dark, shielding the flames of our candles with cupped palms and praying we wouldn’t misstep. We made it some unsubstantiated quantity of time without incident, but softly, after seconds or minutes or hours, we heard a light rustling from the shadow veiled corridor to our right, and Wiley pulled me into the nearest open room in the opposite direction.
Flattening our backs to the wall, we listened intently as footsteps echoed faintly behind us, cyclically growing closer and then further away again for several moments before disappearing altogether.
I let out a breath I hadn’t known I was holding and uncovered my candle, easing the door of the room to a gentle, silent close. The contents of this one were different from that of the last in that there practically weren’t any. It wasn’t just that it was tidier; there was a chest shoved against the wall nearest us and a leatherbound book of some sort lying in the center of the floor, but otherwise the space was vacant.
Wiley moved first, crouching next to the journal and lifting it from the ground, a cloud of dust rising in the wake of their breath. I knelt down beside them, offering my candlelight so they could discard theirs and open the cover.
Beneath which there was a box.
It was a plain, unadorned wooden rectangle, nestled into the carved-out central pages of the book, and we learned upon extracting it that there was no lock or latch, just a seam indicating the lid’s separation from the body.
I don’t need to spell the whole situation out for you. There was a key in the box. The key opened, you guessed it: the chest. Inside the chest, there were piles of gold and jewels beyond your wildest imagination. We’re rich now. The end.
Nah, JK. But the key in the box did open the chest, in which there was, A) a pair of peeling, pleather driving gloves, and B)...
I felt my heart skip.
A bicycle chain.
I’m not going to get into the nuances of that right now, or maybe ever. But for the purposes of dramatic flair, just know that it was incredibly, pointedly relevant to me, on a level so personal it sucker punched the air straight out of my lungs.
“No,” Wiley said, staggering back a step. “Uh-uh. Nope.”
I put together, then, that the gloves must have been their ticket item. “It’s okay,” I said, on autopilot, because it was not. “There’s something—something’s carved into the bottom of this thing.” Pushing past the reaction every fiber of my being had to the sensation of the frigid metal against my skin, I shoved both the chain and the gloves to the side and could scarcely make out a host of crudely scrawled letters in the wavering light of my half-gone candle.
“What is it?” Wiley asked, making no move to come nearer again.
“Though your…hand…? Heart. Though your heart does pound and knees grow…weak,” I deciphered slowly, “Rid yourself by your… That doesn’t make any sense. Shouldn’t it be of? It says ‘rid yourself by *your fear’ and…*something. Drain the…clin… No. Drink. Drain the drink.”
“Rid yourself by your fear and drain the drink,” Wiley repeated analytically. “The hell does that mean? Is this shit telling us to kill ourselves with the—oh. Oh. Fuck.”
I was not following. “...I’m not following,” I said.
“It is.” Wiley returned to my side, squatting down and nudging me out of the way with their shoulder to peer warily into the trunk. “It’s telling us to kill ourselves, but not these selves. We’re supposed to use…*those…*to kill our fuckin’ doppelgangers, or whatever they are. That’s how we get rid of the water.”
“Oh,” I echoed. “Fuck.”
We marinated for a moment in silence before Wiley sighed, resigned, and lifted the gloves from the chest, closing their eyes and pulling the fabric snugly over their hands. “Let’s get to work.”

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My friend Yan is putting on a comedy show at Cloud & Spirits this Thursday. Tickets are limited; go check it out I promise you'll have fun.

THURSDAY - MAY 16

Tapered Expectations XXI: "Above the Clouds" - A Standup Comedy Event @ Cloud & Spirits @ 7PM Acquired Taste Comedy is back at Cloud & Spirits with another signature Standup Comedy Event. Catch a carefully curated selection of the area's funniest comics along with a special musical guest at a breathtaking cocktail bar in Central Square!
Red Sox vs Rays @ Fenway Park @ 7:10PM
Asi Wind’s Magic Show @ The Wilbur @ 7:30PM Being one of the most-watched magicians in the world, Asi Wind presents a new show where he pushes the limits of belief even further with unbelievable mind-reading and astonishing magic.
Candlelight: A Tribute to Adele in Concert @ Temple Ohabei Shalom @ 7PM / 9PM
Marc Martel & One Vision of Queen Concert @ Symphony Hall @ 7:30PM The Pops will rock you when Marc Martel brings the iconic anthems of Queen to Symphony Hall.
Diana Ross @ Wang Theatre @ 7:30PM See the iconic and legendary Diana Ross perform the hits that have defined her career.
Cooper Alan @ Paradise Rock Club @ 8PM With Thomas Mac
Lords of Acid @ Brighton Music Hall @ 6:30PM
Ben Beal @ City Winery @ 7:30PM

FRIDAY - MAY 17

Bruins vs Panthers @ TD Garden
Madeleine Peyroux @ The Wilbur @ 8PM
Neil Young & Crazy Horse @ Xfinity Center @ 7:30PM
Wild Child @ Paradise Rock Club @ 8PM
Soen @ Brighton Music Hall @ 8PM
Tye Tribbett and Friends @ Orpheum Theatre @ 7:30PM
Galantis @ Big Night Live @ 9:30PM
Hermanos Gutiérrez @ Royale @ 6PM
Tinlicker @ Royale @ 10PM
Buck Meek of Big Thief @ Crystal Ballroom @ 8PM
Anders Osborne Trio @ City Winery @ 7:30PM

SATURDAY - MAY 18

Watertown Porchfest @ Watertown @ All day
Revolution vs Philadelphia Union @ Gillette Stadium @ 7:30PM
Dancing on the Charles @ Marsh Post #442 @ 3PM Montreal deep house DJ Fred Everything headlines this marathon outdoor dance party, running from late afternoon into the night.
Ales & Tales @ Stone Zoo @ 5:30PM Walk on the wild side while enjoying local craft beverages. This popular beer tasting event is a favorite among animal and beer lovers alike!
Kite & Bike Festival @ Franklin Park @ 12PM This Boston tradition brings families together to enjoy picnicking, kite flying, bicycles & music.
Ongoing - Artisan Market @ Rose Kennedy Greenway @ 11AM
Kevin James Comedy Show @ Chevalier Theatre @ 4:30PM / 7:30PM
Jimmy Failla Comedy Show @ Shubert Theatre @ 8PM
‘Encanto’ in Concert @ Symphony Hall @ 2PM Disney’s Academy Award-winning film comes to life in a concert event, featuring the entire feature-length film with a full orchestra performing the score.
The String Cheese Incident @ MGM Music Hall @ 7:15PM
Robyn Schall Stand Up @ The Wilbur @ 7PM
Sorry Papi @ House of Blues @ 9PM
James Arthur @ Roadrunner @ 8PM With Forest Blakk
The Music of Talking Heads & More for Kids @ Paradise Rock Club @ 11AM *Presented by The Rock and Roll Playhouse
Orgy + COLD @ Brighton Music Hall @ 8PM
Gimme Gimme Disco @ Big Night Live @ 5:30PM
Arty @ Big Night Live @ 10:30PM
The Messthetics and James Brandon Lewis @ Crystal Ballroom @ 8PM
Chris Smither + Peter Mulvey @ City Winery @ 7:30PM

SUNDAY - MAY 19

Celtics vs Cavaliers @ TD Garden
Kite Festival @ Revere Beach Kick off beach season with a fun day for the whole family complete with build-your-own kite stations, professional kite flyers, live music, and other activities!
Ongoing - Open Market @ SoWa @ 11AM One of the largest open-air farmer and artist markets returns this summer season!
‘Dropouts’ Podcast Live @ Paradise Rock Club @ 7PM Come see internet stars Zach Justice, Tara Yummy & Jared Bailey discuss latest hot topics, celebrity gossip, and personal dramas live!
Electric Callboy @ MGM Music Hall @ 7PM
Deko @ Brighton Music Hall @ 7PM With Yameii
Mk.gee @ The Sinclair @ 7:30PM
Guppy @ The Rockwell @ 7:30PM
Big Bad Voodoo Daddy @ The Wilbur @ 7PM
Compaq Big Band @ City Winery @ 7:30PM

ALL WEEKEND

FRIDAY & SATURDAY - Amanda Seales Stand Up @ Laugh Boston
FRIDAY & SATURDAY - Zach Brazao Stand Up @ Nick’s Comedy Stop @ 8PM
SATURDAY & SUNDAY - ‘Bluey’s Big Play’ Show @ Wang Theatre ‘Bluey’s Big Play’ is a brand-new theatrical adaptation of the Emmy award-winning children’s television series featuring new music and new character adventures.
All weekend - Jukebox The Ghost @ The Sinclair @ 8PM
All weekend - Nantucket Wine & Food Festival Enjoy food and drinks tastings, seminars, brunches, and parties as the annual festival uncorks the island for the summer!
All weekend -’Hallyu Hits: Korean Films that Moved the World @ MFA See the best of Korean cinema including ‘Oldboy,’ ‘Parasites,’ and ‘Burning.’
All weekend - ‘Spring Experience’ Ballet @ Citizens Bank Opera House LAST CHANCE - Explore Boston Ballet’s dynamic and captivating Spring program composed of three masterful ballets featuring classical and modern dance elements.
All weekend - ‘BABYBABYBABY’ Dance Performance @ Calderwood Pavilion This contemporary dance production taps into the feeling of falling in love and reflects on the human impulse for connection and intimacy.
All weekend - ‘A Strange Loop’ Musical @ Wimberly Theatre Winner of Pulitzer Prize and a Tony Award, Michael R. Jackson’s blisteringly funny masterwork exposes the heart and soul of a young Black artist grappling with desires, identity, and instincts he both loves and loathes.
All weekend - ‘Jersey Boys’ Musical @ North Shore Music Theatre LAST CHANCE - Featuring legendary hits, this award-winning musical tells the behind-the-scenes drama of the international sensation boy band The Four Seasons.
All weekend - ‘Toni Stone’ Play @ The Huntington Theatre The Huntington’s season finale is a beautiful, rich portrait of a trailblazing woman. Follow the inspiring and life-affirming story of baseball legend Toni Stone.
All weekend - ‘Romeo and Juliet’ Play @ Calderwood Pavilion Brought to life by Actors’ Shakespeare Project, Shakespeare’s most famous duo return in a flurry of forbidden love, exhilarating fight scenes, and tragic fate.
All weekend - ‘Mermaid Hour’ Play @ Arrow Street Arts LAST CHANCE - Fast-paced, funny, and heartfelt, ‘Mermaid Hour’ follows two parents and their trans teen kid as they all seek to understand who they are and who they wish to be.

ONGOING

Ongoing - Immersive Disney Animation @ Boch Center Step into the art and legacy of Walt Disney Animation Studios and celebrate the music, artistry and animation from the creators of Frozen, The Little Mermaid, Big Hero 6 and many more.
Ongoing - Musical Shows @ MoS Planetarium Museum of Science puts on special experiences adapting the music of Pink Floyd, Rihanna, Beyoncé, and The Divas to immersive visuals in the Charles Hayden Planetarium.
Ongoing - ‘Firelei Báez’ Exhibition @ ICA One of the most exciting painters of her generation, Báez explores the multilayered legacy of colonial histories and the African diaspora in the Caribbean and beyond.
Ongoing - ‘Wordplay’ Exhibition @ ICA Highlighting the rich interplay between imagery and text, the exhibition showcases how contemporary artists have played with words to animate and expand their art practices.
Ongoing - ‘Hallyu! The Korean Wave’ Exhibition @ MFA Enjoy an immersive and multisensory journey through Korea’s fascinating history, and celebrate its contemporary vibrant creative force.
Ongoing - ‘Dress Up’ Exhibition @ MFA Through more than 100 works from the MFA’s collection including 20th- and 21st-century clothing, jewelry, accessories, illustrations, and photographs, this exhibition explores adornment and its role in the creation of a look.
Ongoing - ‘Comrade Sisters: Women of the Black Panther Party’ Exhibition @ MFA This exhibition brings together 27 powerful photographs by Stephen Shames that feature the women of the Black Panther party and showcase their crucial work for the movement.
Ongoing - ‘Thinking Small: Dutch Art to Scale’ Exhibition @ MFA Featuring 15 intriguing objects from 17th-century Netherlands such as paintings, prints, silver medals, and books, this exhibition compels viewers to reconsider their relationship to the world around them.
Ongoing - ‘Raqib Shaw: Ballads of East and West’ Exhibition @ ISG Museum Shaw’s images of magic and mystery combine Western artistic tradition with ornamental elements derived from the Japanese, Persian, and Indian cultures that he vividly remembers from his youth.
Ongoing - ‘Picasso: War, Combat, and Revolution’ Exhibition @ Harvard Art Museums The exhibition explores the dictator Francisco Franco’s Spain, imagery of death, struggles of good and evil, political and artistic revolution, and issues of desire and capture.
Ongoing - ‘Our Time on Earth’ Exhibition @ Peabody Essex Museum This traveling exhibition from the Barbican Centre in London celebrates the power of global creativity to transform the conversation around the climate emergency.
Ongoing - ‘AI: Mind the Gap’ Exhibition @ MIT Museum MIT Museum presents its latest riveting, interactive exhibit exploring the tremendous promise, unforeseen impacts, and everyday misconceptions of AI.

I don't want this to come across as hate for the internet, because access to the internet opened my world and brought me my first friends. I was really isolated growing up and the internet has been my lifeline, so this isn't about that.
But, I am so tired and exhausted by consumerism and constant ad-messaging and paywalls. I feel constantly bombarded by ads for things I don't need, and I feel like most platform content these days does nothing but get in the way of friendship and community building. I can't keep my thoughts focused for anything because I am constantly being interrupted by absolute crap I don't want to know about. I feel like my mind is being stolen incrementally on a daily basis and I can't take it anymore. I feel like I'm covered in leeches and the only way to get them out of my face is to put them on payroll in a more convenient area of my life. Reddit is literally the only online place that I don't feel overwhelmed these days.
I used to really enjoy youtube, listening to other people's ideas, participating in some sort of community forum on topics of interest, but I feel like the entire human experience has been monetized at this point. Every video has 2+ ads, not to mention the ads embedded into the content by the creators themselves. What pushed me over the edge today was an ad for getting rid of ads without even an X to click off/close it. Sometimes I want to destroy my eyes and ears just to escape. I have ad-blockers but they don't appear to be affective and even those pop up and ask me for more money almost monthly. None of my friends post on instagram anymore. Everything is content-creators and advertisements for courses, trainings, coaching, items, clothing, etc. I can't even go for a walk without seeing 5+ ads for food and clothing. I can barely talk to another human being without them regurgitating some semblance of an ad I've heard, at some point in the conversation. "Have you heard about X. It sounds/looks so convenient/cool/amazing/fun! I'm thinking about getting it. They have free shipping and a free return policy." "Check out this Y! I absolutely love it. They're having a sale right now if you want some."
I'm done. I can't do it anymore. I deleted my entire youtube history and account. Instagram will be going next when I have the energy to sort through photos and contacts. I'm going to try and talk my partner into throwing dinner parties. I can't live like this anymore. I just can't. I feel like I'm drowning in a sea of ad-sense.
Even subscriptions I've paid for have added ads and secondary ad-free subscriptions. I'm finished with Amazon Prime when I'm done with my current show.
I'm all for creators getting paid for their work, but I cannot afford and don't care enough to pay to listen to the rambling thoughts of another person on inane topics, and I've reached my limited for advertisement intake. I need a drive with no billboards, and a walk with no advertisements. Even in suburban neighborhoods, roofers and renovators are advertising from the lawns. I want to cry, but it feels like such a stupid thing to cry about. How am I supposed to explain to people that I'm sobbing because the volume of advertisements right now is so overwhelming it makes me want to crawl in a hole and die or run away somewhere where I can't understand the language, just to be free. I feel boxed in on every side, driven in one direction, buy, buy more, buy everything.
Don't ask a friend for a ride. Buy one. Don't ask your partner to rub your shoulders. Buy a massage. Don't use the pavement outside your door. Buy a treadmill. Don't use the bicycle in your garage. Buy a two thousand dollar stationary machine and pay $40+ a month to access the screen. Don't visit with friends and talk about life, money, and relationships. Buy a subscription and listen to a forty-year-old influencer talk as if they have the wisdom of a lifetime, pretending they haven't made millions from selling common sense. Don't chop your own vegetables. Don't make your own food. Buy it and pay someone bring it to you $10 off today only!!
I'm going to build my actual physical library of books and music again. Convenience be damned. I don't need access to every damn song on the planet, at all times, in every place. I will do without.
Is this just me or is this hurting other people too? I know that I have combination inattentive & hyperactive ADHD which could factor into the impact, but I'm on medication and a supplement regime, and seem to have a solid handle on it in the rest of my life.
Is there a way to get away from all the ads without going the full Monty, moving into the woods and growing your own food? I really don't want to do that. I just want to live a simple life, with a regular job, in an average city...without constant pressure to buy. I don't want advertisements in my mailbox, my email, and my grocery store. I unsubscribe a hundred times and they just keep coming. I don't want to hear about the BIG SALE!!! that is occurring ONLY THIS WEEK...3 out of 4 weeks...all year round. How do I escape this?

So just found this sub Reddit and have been reading all the spooky stories, just thought I’d share mine.
So my grandma used to live in a 4 stories high flat, she was on the top floor. She lived there for 50+ years (the whole building is 100+ years old).
When my mum was a little girl she experienced a lot of creepy shit. She told me this particular story as I grew a bit older that really stuck with me all these years, One night while she was sleeping in bed with her little sister (they shared a room), she looked over to the door and seen a man standing in the shadows, full of fear she froze and didn’t know what to do she just stared at this “man” and decided to wake her sister up while having her eyes fixed on this man. Her sister woke up and began to cry after seeing this and her parents came in the room and the “man” was gone.
Another thing my mum told me was beside the garden door on the bottom floor there was a little indoor storage area where all residents of the flat could store their bikes, scooters etc. My mum told me to not go in it, she legit told me it’s haunted stay away from it, I never went close to it, infact I remember everytime I had to go up to my grans by myself I would feel a eerie feeling coming from that little compartment and I would sprint up the stairs, I would also feel as if something was following me from behind as I was going upstairs.
Anyway that’s just some backstory of this house, now when I was 14 years old. Myself, my brothers and my cousins we all used to go over to my grans quite regularly and back then we never had phones or anything so we used to play games like hide and seek, what’s the time Mr. Wolf etc, one day it was just me and one of my cousins (he was around 11) all the adults used to sit in the living room and they used to tell us to go play, because we used to scream they used to tell us to close the door, which we always did.
So my cousin and I decided to play hide and seek, I tell him that lll seek he hides, he agrees and goes to hide. I face the wall and begin to count down, when I finish I go to look for him, I start by the kitchen, he’s Not there, I go to the bathroom Not there, then I go to my grandparents bedroom, inside the bedroom they had this closet, it was more like a small room plenty of space in there for like 4 people, this is where they stored a bunch of blankets and old traditional furniture. As I entered the bedroom to my surprise he jumps out from this closet with both his hands on his throat crisscrossing eachother, looking pale and blue, what he says next I will never forget he says “why did you strangle me”.
My first instinct was to call him a dumbass and say “I didn’t” then he says “you were behind me strangling me I saw your face” this sent shivers down my spine. Now in my head I’m thinking if I am currently infront of you, how could I have just “teleported“ Infront of you if I was right behind you a second ago?. For this to make any sense I would have strangled him then I would have to somehow run directly infront of him, out the closet door without him seeing me and get to the position I was currently in which is impossible. So being the older cousin I could clearly sense the fear and distraught he was in, so to lighten the mood I started to laugh and giggle and said “yeah it was me hahahahaha, I was behind you” I hugged him, but honestly I was fucking shitting my pants.
We stopped playing hide and seek after that.
His mum was mad at me for “strangling” him, I just took all the blame, I told my mum what happened when we left my grans, she believed me and hugged me and we kept it to ourselves.
Many years down the line i was like 21 and this cousin was like 18ish, i bought this story up with him and he remembered clear as day exactly what happened, we talked and now that he was way older he understood what had happened and that it was completely impossible for me to be infront of him and also behind him strangling him a moment ago. He thanked me for giving him that comfort at that young age, and telling him it was me strangling him, he said for many years he believed it was me (because I told him it was) he also said that if I didn’t say it was me, he would’ve been paranoid for the rest of his life.
He said as he grew older he starting to think about that day and started to realise there was no possible way it could’ve been me strangling him if I had just come into the bedroom, he stared to put it together by himself.
Thankfully, that house has now been sold. But even as I grow older, there are moments when I feel the urge to drive by it again. Yet, as I approach, a sense of unease creeps over me, and I find myself accelerating, desperate to escape its haunting grip just a little quicker.

Post is the title

1. Resets & Preplan

Keep resetting until you have a rich wild animal spawn and a rich iron spawn close by. This is vital
The first buildings I put down are
-Granary
-Logging Camp
-Hunting camp
-Wood Cutter
-Market
-Extra Oxen placement (BUY AN OXEN)
Personally, I make a square of road big enough to put houses inside and put a market right in the middle. You only will need to build one house large enough for addition.

1. First Five Minutes

You need to IMMEDIATLEY rush the granary then IMMEDIATLEY task all your workers on it. Doing this you might save some bread, about 10. Give up on saving the other perishables, the stones are what matter and won't be damaged by weather
Once you've saved what you can, rush the woodcutter. The name of the game is approval. Once you have the above buildings completed, I have workers on cutting, oxen, chopping, hunting. With your remaining worker you need to rush houses. The homelessness debuff will stack super fast. Sometime around when you complete the 3rd house, the other debuffs will set in.

1. Second Five Minutes

Your focus now is to fill all of the basic requirements for the villagers. The hardest part of this being the church. Once you have the 5 houses, one being large enough for an addition, you need to build and occupy a tannery.
You now have no free villagers. You will now have to juggle your assignments. I won't write how to do that, it takes a few tries to figure what is expendable and what isn't. My tip is the Logging and the Oxen are the most expendable until you have a church.
Next building is a sawmill. Before you swap to use it, make sure you have enough logs saved up. You will want to craft EXACTLY enough planks for the church. By this point your approval is almost 25%.
This is a good place to save!
The game will sometimes have a villager leave below 25% approval. You might not get your houses to accept the market stalls in time and there's a probability one of your villagers will leave. If that happens, you reset until they don't and you can get back above 25%.
While this is happening, you need to rush the church ASAP. Once you have the materials, untask the oxen and the chopper to work it.
Once you get the church done, you are safe from an immediate game over.

1. 50%

You are now in a race against time. Getting to 50% approval is the goal. If you have the spare resources, you'll want to build
-Foraging Hut for berries
-Mine on the iron
-A few extra houses
-Bloomery
This stage might take a while. I prioritize the berries and the iron first. Look at your house requirements and understand it might take a while to reach 50%. If you can get more villagers as early as possible, that is huge.
You will have villagers tasked on: berries, animals, tannery, wood cutting, and one fill.
As the timer ticks down, you'll want to find time to mine some iron. I would also take some time to craft a few more planks for the level 2 house upgrade and the weapons craft. I build pikes. Once you have enough planks for your crafts, destroy the sawpit if you want. Free resources.
DO NOT, I repeat, DO NOT, upgrade your long house until you've gotten past 50% and have gotten a new villager.
Once you do, your main goal is mine exactly enough iron and smelt it as fast as you can. Make sure you have the resources to upgrade to a level 2 house. You can swap off the smelting to cut some more logs if you need. Upgrading will immediately trigger a bunch of debuffs that block your approval from going above 50%, but if you have villagers tasked on 4 approval crafts, you will never dip back down.
You can get risky and untask some of your workers, like your woodcutter, to get logs here and there. Risky strat.

1. Battle

Finally, craft enough weapons for your full town if you can in the time remaining. The bandits that come are only 18 with clubs and you can kill them with only 10 militia if you have to. From here, the game is the same as normal just harder.

1. After

Enemies will come in waves of two, then three, eventually four 18 unit attackers. Prioritize expansion, the hardest being the food.

I know for a fact I’m gonna get downvoted to shit, but watching this anime is exhausting when every second of it is just a drag for me. A lot of people say Arlong Park was where it got good, and I thought that arc was boring asf. A lot of people said Alabasta was when it got good, and I thought that was pretty bad too. I just don’t understand the love for this series no matter how hard I try. I don’t want to hate it, I literally watched over 200 episodes to force myself to like it and failed. To me, Luffy seems like one of the most boring and one-dimensional characters I’ve ever seen as a protagonist. He’s an idiot who’s wildly unhelpful to his crew until the big bad of the arc appears, and then he finally gets serious and goes all “I need to beat you to protect my friends!!” and then he wins, everyone celebrates, and the cycle repeats. Most of the crew is just doing stupid shit like 99% of the time. The only tolerable straw hat crew members for me are Zoro, Nami and Robin. Nami and Robin actually try to be productive unlike the rest of the crew, and Zoro isn’t screaming all the time so he isn’t as annoying. Usopp hasn’t helped the crew AT ALL at this point, all he’s done is just lie about being the captain, and scream and run away when there’s danger. Chopper is also usually screaming and running, I think I’ve seen him do his job ONCE. Sanji would be alright if he wasn’t constantly fawning over every girl he sees. The single redeeming quality of this show is the world building. The action, story, emotional impact, and even music are all FAR worse than the other 2 members of the big 3 imo. I know it gets more interesting later, the concept of haki seems pretty cool and the animation of the later episodes seems insane. I just really don’t know if I have it in me to keep going when I hate the anime so much at this point. Goodbye karma, must sacrifice you to ask this question 🫡

DAY: MAY 13, 2024

• 5-13-2024BIKING REVEALED TO BE ASSOCIATED WITH LESS KNEE PAIN LATER IN LIFE A study reveals that people who participated in regular bicycling over their lifetime had a lower prevalence of frequent knee pain, radiographic osteoarthritis (ROA) and symptomatic radiographic osteoarthritis (SOA). Rheumatologists often encourage regular physical activity for the prevention of osteoarthritis, the most common form of arthritis. However, some exercises are more effective than others.
• 5-13-2024STRESSFUL LIFE EVENTS CAN INCREASE YOUR RISK OF ALZHEIMER’S Stressful life events, such as the death of a loved one or divorce, put a person at greater risk of developing dementia in later life, a recent study has found. But only if the stressful event happened in childhood or midlife. The study included 1,290 people at increased risk of developing Alzheimer’s disease. The researchers looked at 18 stressful life events and when in people’s lives they happened.
• 5-13-2024TIPS FOR LOWERING STROKE RISK May is National Stroke Awareness Month, and as part of everyday awareness, Mayo Clinic health care professionals suggest reducing stroke risk and knowing the signs. A stroke happens every 40 seconds in the U.S., and the likelihood of stroke increases with age, according to the National Institutes of Health. Preventing a stroke is a crucial aspect of health care, as about 80% of all strokes are preventable. The focus is on managing risk factors to reduce the long-term risk of stroke.
• 5-13-2024IT’S TIME TO USE TIKTOK TO TALK TO YOUNG PEOPLE ABOUT OBESITY, SAYS RESEARCHER There is an urgent need to harness the potential of TikTok and other social media channels to provide scientific information about obesity to young people in engaging and accessible way . The popularity and broad reach of such platforms provides the opportunity to reach diverse audiences, including teenagers and young adults, explains lead researcher Dr. Antonella Franceschelli, of Unicamillus International Medical University, Rome, Italy.
• 5-13-2024WHY YOU SHOULD NEVER TAKE NUTRITION ADVICE FROM A CENTENARIAN It’s a cliche of reporting on people who reach 100 years of age, or even 110, to ask them some variation of the question: “What did you do to live this long?” Inevitably, some interesting and unexpected answer is highlighted. Fish and chips every Friday. Drinking a glass of strong liquor every day. Bacon for breakfast every morning. Wine and chocolate. While a popular news story, this is a relatively meaningless question that doesn’t help us understand why certain people have lived so long.
• 5-13-2024JUNK FOOD MARKETING ON VIDEOGAME LIVESTREAMING PLATFORMS INCREASES PURCHASES AND CONSUMPTION AMONG TEENS, STUDY FINDS Food and drink advertisements on videogame livestreaming platforms (VGLSPs) like Twitch are associated with more positive attitudes towards, and purchases and intake of, unhealthy foods that are high in fat, salt and/or sugar (HFSS) like energy drinks among adolescents aged 18 or younger. The concerning findings prompt researchers to call for stronger regulations on digital marketing of unhealthy foods to young people on these platforms, where there is currently no effective regulation
• 5-13-2024HIGHER BLOOD SUGAR LEVEL AT GESTATIONAL DIABETES DIAGNOSIS LINKED TO HARMFUL OUTCOMES FOR MOTHERS AND BABIES The higher the blood sugar level in pregnant women when first diagnosed with diabetes, the higher the risk of complications around and after birth
• 5-13-2024ASKING ADULTS WITH OBESITY ABOUT THEIR WEIGHT DURING CHILDHOOD COULD HELP DETERMINE THEIR MORTALITY RISK Being asked whether you considered yourself a normal weight, plumper or thinner as a child when attending a doctor’s appointment as an adult might appear like a very strange question to ask, but new research suggests that such questions can help identify increased mortality risk in adults living with obesity.
• 5-13-2024ENERGY DRINKS CAN LEAD TO SERIOUS HEART ISSUES IN KIDS AND TEENS, HEALTH EXPERTS SAY Hennessy Sepulveda thought she was going to die. “I began dissociating as I was driving. I was 10 minutes away from my house. My vision started warping and the lights were hitting me really bright,” she said. “I felt my chest pounding, I felt a wave of panic hit me—I knew something was wrong.” Sepulveda, a Florida International University student who was 19 at the time, was admitted to the hospital, and was surprised by the cause of her symptoms
• 5-13-2024A BLOOD TEST TO HELP DETECT LUNG CANCER? NEW TEST OFFERED AT 18 LOCATIONS Julie Harris had never been tested for lung cancer. A low-dose CT scan, the only recommended screening for adults at risk of developing lung cancer, was not something she’d ever found time to do. But when her primary care doctor recently suggested a new blood test to help look for signs of the disease, Harris was intrigued. She had her blood drawn the same day, in the same building as her doctor’s appointment.
• 5-13-2024STUDY SHOWS EXERCISING SLOWS OUR PERCEPTION OF TIME results of a new study show for the first time that individuals tend to experience time as moving slower when they are exercising compared to when they are resting or after completing their exercise.
• 5-13-2024BREAKTHROUGH THERAPIES ARE SAVING LIVES, BUT CAN WE AFFORD THEM? Harnessing the body’s own cells to fight disease, long a medical dream, is finally a reality. Now comes the bill. Last month, Stanford became the first hospital in the nation to use a new $515,000 cell therapy to treat a patient with advanced melanoma. A related approach, costing $420,000 to $475,000, is offering hope to patients with lethal blood cancers. Meanwhile, cells fixed by gene therapy can slow, even stop, the progression of intractable diseases like sickle cell or beta thalassemia—
• 5-13-2024RESEARCH FINDS DAYLIGHT SAVING TIME SPELLS BAD NEWS FOR HEALTHY HABITS
• 5-13-2024HOW READING HELPS YOUNG CHILDREN LEARN ABOUT THE CONCEPT OF PAIN
• 5-13-2024HEART FAILURE PATIENTS WHO DO YOGA HAVE STRONGER HEARTS AND CAN BE MORE ACTIVE, RESEARCH SUGGESTS
• 5-13-2024ITALIAN STUDY FINDS EVIDENCE OF BODY DYSMORPHIA IN PROFILE PICTURES OF PEOPLE LIVING WITH OBESITY
• 5-13-2024UNDERSTANDING AND PREVENTING BLADDER CANCER
• 5-13-2024OUR BRAINS TRICK US INTO THINKING CONSCIOUSNESS CAN RESIDE OUTSIDE THE BODY, RESEARCH ARGUES
• 5-13-2024YOGA SHOWS ‘MOST IMPROVEMENT’ IN RESTORING BRAIN HEALTH IN LONG-TERM CANCER SURVIVORS, RESEARCHER SAYS
• 5-13-2024DISTURBING NEW TRENDS ARE DRIVING UP THE NUMBERS
• 5-13-2024SUPPORTING WEIGHT-LOSS MEDICATIONS WITH ADEQUATE, TAILORED NUTRITION
• 5-13-2024WHAT HAPPENS INSIDE A SLEEPWALKER’S BRAIN?
• 5-13-2024COMING OFF OZEMPIC SLOWLY COULD PREVENT WEIGHT GAIN, STUDY SHOWS
• 5-13-2024STUDY SHOWS ALARMING RISE OF ELECTRONIC VAPING USE IN US ADOLESCENTS
• 5-13-2024UK SURVEY FINDS ‘DISGUST FACTOR’ NEEDS TO BE OVERCOME IF EATING INSECTS IS TO BECOME TRULY MAINSTREAM
• 5-13-2024SEMAGLUTIDE CAN YIELD WEIGHT LOSS, LOWER HEART ISSUES FOR AT LEAST FOUR YEARS IN NON-DIABETIC ADULTS WITH OVERWEIGHT
• 5-13-2024BETTER NUTRITION CAN HELP FIREFIGHTERS FIGHT CANCER
• 5-13-2024EXPLORING THE BIOLOGICAL BASIS FOR RESILIENCE
• 5-13-2024REMOTE HEART FAILURE MONITORING DEVICE COULD PREVENT HOSPITALIZATIONS
• 5-13-2024IDENTICAL ODORS SEEM DIFFERENT WHEN GIVEN DIFFERENT NAMES
• 5-13-2024HOW CANNABIS AND PSILOCYBIN MIGHT HELP SOME OF THE 50 MILLION AMERICANS WHO ARE EXPERIENCING CHRONIC PAIN
• 5-13-2024AUTISTIC CHILDREN COULD BE THE REAL WINNERS FROM ONLINE GAMES
• 5-13-2024TEENAGE USERS OF HIGH-THC CANNABIS VARIETIES TWICE AS LIKELY TO EXPERIENCE PSYCHOTIC EPISODES
• 5-13-2024PEPTIDE-BASED HYDROGEL SHOWS PROMISE FOR A WIDE RANGE OF TISSUE AND ORGAN REPAIR
• 5-13-2024TO AVENGE OR NOT TO AVENGE? PSYCHOLOGISTS DIG DEEPER INTO HOW PEOPLE SEE REVENGE AND THOSE WHO DO IT
• 5-13-2024TRANSGENDER PRETEENS REPORT 13 HOURS OF DAILY SCREEN TIME
• 5-13-2024STUDY FINDINGS DEMONSTRATE BENEFIT TO PEDIATRIC CELIAC DISEASE MASS SCREENING
• 5-13-2024COMMONLY USED ANTIBIOTIC BRINGS MORE COMPLICATIONS, DEATH IN THE SICKEST PATIENTS
• 5-13-2024NEW PAPER EXAMINES POTENTIAL POWER AND PITFALLS OF HARNESSING ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE FOR SLEEP MEDICINE
• 5-13-2024VARIATIONS IN TELOMERE LENGTHENING GENES MAY PREDISPOSE SOME PEOPLE TO PAPILLARY THYROID CANCER
• 5-13-2024WHAT IS THE PROCESS OF AN ATHLETE BEING ‘MEDICALLY RETIRED’ DUE TO CONCUSSION?
• 5-13-2024NOT SURE ABOUT VACCINES? HOW MESSAGING IS FRAMED MAKES A DIFFERENCE, NEW RESEARCH SHOWS
• 5-13-2024NEW STUDY REVEALS THE KEY ROLE OF MITOCHONDRIAL PROTEINS IN CARDIAC REGENERATION
• 5-13-2024NEW SYNTHETIC BIOMARKER TECHNOLOGY DIFFERENTIATES BETWEEN PRIOR ZIKA AND DENGUE INFECTIONS
• 5-13-2024IN SEARCH OF THE BEST TEST FOR HEPATIC ENCEPHALOPATHY
• 5-13-2024ORGANIZATIONS PUBLISH JOINT GUIDELINE ON GLUCOCORTICOID-INDUCED ADRENAL INSUFFICIENCY
• 5-13-2024CLINICAL TRIAL INVESTIGATING AFICAMTEN MEETS PRIMARY ENDPOINT IN OBSTRUCTIVE HYPERTROPHIC CARDIOMYOPATHY
• 5-13-2024RESEARCH INVESTIGATES LIMITED EFFICACY OF COMMON LOCAL ANESTHETIC
• 5-13-2024HOW SCIENCE CLEARED THE AIR OVER INHALED HEALTH RISKS
• 5-13-2024WHAT’S KEEPING THE US FROM ALLOWING BETTER SUNSCREENS?
• 5-13-2024PATIENTS CAN NOW STAY CONNECTED BY WEARING ONE
• 5-13-2024THERAPEUTIC OPPORTUNITIES FOR HYPERMUTATED UROTHELIAL CARCINOMAS BEYOND IMMUNOTHERAPY
• 5-13-2024RESEARCHERS REVEAL THE DOUBLE-EDGED-SWORD EFFECT OF OVERCONFIDENCE ON GAMBLING
• 5-13-2024TEAM STUDIES FACTORS RELATED TO A SENSE OF ECONOMIC INSECURITY IN OLDER ADULTS
• 5-13-2024PEDIATRICIAN OFFERS TIPS ON HOW TO SUPPORT HEALTHY MENTAL AND EMOTIONAL DEVELOPMENT IN YOUR CHILD
• 5-13-2024NEW DEVICE COULD IDENTIFY WHICH BABIES WILL STRUGGLE WITH BREASTFEEDING
• 5-13-2024COULD FLIRT LEAD TO A SUMMER UPTICK?
• 5-13-2024RESEARCH HIGHLIGHTS DRAMATIC INCREASE IN FENTANYL SEIZED BY AUTHORITIES IN LAST SIX YEARS
• 5-13-2024CHILD MEASLES CASE AT SACRAMENTO HOSPITAL MAY HAVE EXPOSED 200 PEOPLE, HEALTH OFFICIALS SAY
• 5-13-2024AN AUXILIARY CHD DIAGNOSTIC SYSTEM BASED ON MULTI-VIEW AND MULTI-MODAL TRANSTHORACIC ECHOCARDIOGRAMS
• 5-13-2024PROJECTED ESTIMATES OF CANCER IN CANADA IN 2024: STUDY
• 5-13-2024REPORT FINDS PRIVATE HEALTH PLANS PAID HOSPITALS 254% OF WHAT MEDICARE WOULD PAY DURING 2022
• 5-13-2024HOW OBESITY AND METABOLIC SYNDROME AFFECTS WOMEN’S RISKS OF BREAST CANCER AND CANCER-RELATED DEATH
• 5-13-2024CANCER AND COVID DROVE PATIENT TO DOUBLE-LUNG TRANSPLANT
• 5-13-2024CHOLERA OUTBREAK INTENSIFYING IN YEMEN, UN WARNS
• 5-13-2024RESEARCH TAKES ELECTRORETINOGRAPHY TO THE NEXT LEVEL WITH A SOFT MULTI-ELECTRODE SYSTEM
• 5-13-2024NEW STUDY SHOWS CERTAIN COMBINATIONS OF ANTIVIRAL PROTEINS ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR LUPUS SYMPTOMS
• 5-13-2024DID A WORM REALLY EAT PART OF ROBERT F. KENNEDY JR.’S BRAIN?
• 5-13-2024REINING IN ROGUE OBAMACARE AGENTS WITHOUT SLOWING ENROLLMENT
• 5-13-2024IS ‘HERD IMMUNITY’ IN INTENSIVE CARE DOING MORE HARM THAN GOOD?
• 5-13-2024TOO MANY AUSTRALIANS AREN’T GETTING A FLU VACCINE—WHY, AND WHAT CAN WE DO ABOUT IT?
• 5-13-2024RESEARCHERS FIND 13% REDUCTION IN ASTHMA IN CHILDREN BORN IN AN URBAN LOW EMISSION ZONE
• 5-13-2024RESEARCHERS USE DUAL DRUG STRATEGY TO ADVANCE MELANOMA TREATMENT AGAINST RESISTANCE
• 5-13-2024ENGINEERING MINI HUMAN HEARTS TO STUDY PREGNANCY COMPLICATIONS AND BIRTH DEFECTS
• 5-13-2024FOR TREATING RETINOPATHY OF PREMATURITY, RESEARCH PROVES THAT RANIBIZUMAB IS SAFE
• 5-13-2024STUDY FINDS SENSE OF SHARED SIMULTANEITY INCREASES WITH GROUP SIZE
• 5-13-2024WHAT YOU NEED TO KNOW
• 5-13-2024ATTACKING BIRTH CONTROL PILLS, US INFLUENCERS PUSH MISINFORMATION
• 5-13-2024UN NEARS LANDMARK DEAL ON COMBATING BIOPIRACY
• 5-13-2024VARIATIONS IN ‘ANCIENT’ IMMUNE CELLS LINKED TO PATIENTS’ SURVIVAL IN CANCER
• 5-13-2024SOURCE OF SUGAR MAY BE MORE IMPORTANT THAN AMOUNT WHEN IT COMES TO THE DEVELOPMENT OF OBESITY IN CHILDREN
• 5-13-2024UK STUDY INVOLVING OVER 80,000 ADULTS FINDS SMOKERS TEND TO EAT LESS AND HAVE A LESS HEALTHY DIET THAN NON-SMOKERS
• 5-13-2024TRIAL REVEALS ANTI-INFLAMMATORY POWER OF AEROBIC EXERCISE IN ADULTS WITH OBESITY
• 5-13-2024LARGE-SCALE FINNISH STUDY DISCOVERS LINK BETWEEN PREMATURE MENOPAUSE AND MORTALITY RISK
• 5-13-2024SOCIODEMOGRAPHICS TIED TO REHAB USE DURING CRITICAL ILLNESS HOSPITALIZATION
• 5-13-2024AVOID OVERHEATING DANGERS WHEN RECHARGING MEDICAL DEVICES
• 5-13-2024LOWER PREVALENCE OF EMPLOYMENT SEEN FOR SURVIVORS OF CHILDHOOD CANCER
• 5-13-2024BLOOD PRESSURE DOWN WITH SELF-MONITORING, SELF-TITRATION OF MEDICATIONS
• 5-13-2024PSILOCYBIN MAY REVERSE ANOREXIA’S COGNITIVE RIGIDITY
• 5-13-2024STUDY HIGHLIGHTS NEED FOR CELL-TYPE-SPECIFIC THERAPIES IN TREATMENT OF HIV
• 5-13-2024INTENSE ULTRASOUND EXTRACTS GENETIC INFO FOR LESS INVASIVE CANCER BIOPSIES
• 5-13-2024WEIGHT LOSS DRUG LINKED WITH REDUCED NEED FOR DIURETICS IN HEART FAILURE PATIENTS
• 5-13-2024EVIDENCE OF A TRAVEL DIRECTION SIGNAL THAT IS INDEPENDENT FROM HEAD DIRECTION IN HUMANS
• 5-13-2024STUDY SHOWS CHATGPT CAN ACCURATELY ANALYZE MEDICAL CHARTS FOR CLINICAL RESEARCH, OTHER APPLICATIONS
• 5-13-2024WHAT MAKES A MEMORY? IT MAY BE RELATED TO HOW HARD YOUR BRAIN HAD TO WORK
• 5-13-2024BIRTH BY C-SECTION MORE THAN DOUBLES ODDS OF MEASLES VACCINE FAILURE, STUDY FINDS
• 5-13-2024SCIENTISTS FIND SLEEP MAY NOT CLEAR BRAIN TOXINS

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