Im afraid to finger

Paradox, Viciate, and Lorenzo continued on their descent into the castle to the Well of Wisdom. A sacred place bestowed on the Alphaverse since its creation. A well that possess the most valuable wisdom from across the Megaverse. Paradox had his group stop in one of the chambers for he assumed his prisoners will be awaking from the poison soon. He then had his chains wrap around King Alexander, Venessa, Cross, Tray, Selena, Malissa, Lucrest, Leoped, and Phonix. Viciate deployed several drones that aimed their weapons at the chained prisoners with Paradox standing resolute holding the Matrix of Eternity in his hands. The prisoners eventually woke up one by one and were greeted by crude words and jeers directed towards them. The chains that bound them prevented them from utilizing their powers to break their bonds and even if they did, the bullets from the drones will prove extremely lethal to their weakened state. Paradox ordered the prisoners to be placed in a line on their knees as he snapped his fingers which summoned imps and more infernal warriors to act as guards. King Alexander, "You can't restore the Matrix in the Well of Wisdom, it will shred you to pieces." Paradox smugly, "Maybe, but that's why I'll have each of you go in for me and see who can withstand the Well." Malissa, "He's going to sacrifice us! Where is Joan? Did she escape?" Paradox, "Oh I believe Tray knows the answer to that." Everyone turned wondering where Tray could be until he finally spoke, the others were shock at his new appearance for he appeared otherworldly to them. Tray did not lift his eyes towards the group, but rather hung his head low. Paradox's eyes beamed with sadistic delight as he spoke, "I guess one can say your sister is now very OPEN MINDED!" It took a few seconds for this joke to register in the minds of the prisoners, but when it did, all of them violently shook the chains in order to be free. "Go ahead use all your powers to break those chains, it only transfers your power levels into my soul. Lockjaw was right, all of you are complete fools in underestimating these accursed chains!"
He grabbed Phonix as his victim but stopped when what seemed to be an earthquake began to shake the foundations of the castle. The earthquake only intensified the longer it went, Venessa, "Does anyone else hear bass boosted music?" In a spectacular explosion of dazzling lights and rifts across space and time, Diamond's glowing body appeared in a giant hole in one of the castle's walls while blaring Hit Me Baby One More Time. Everyone was left speechless when they saw Diamond, believing it to be a ghost. "PARADOX!!!!!" In terror Paradox began to back away, "Impossible, I scarred you for life! HOW ARE YOU EVEN STRONGER THAN BEFORE?!" "It is not for you to know the circumstances that brought me here before you today. Regardless I am back. AND THIS TIME THERE IS NO POWER IN THE MEGAVERSE OR THE NETHERWORLD THAT IS GOING TO STOP ME!" Paradox ordered Lorenzo, Viciate, and the rest of his minions to dispose of Diamond as he journeys deeper to the Well of Wisdom. Viciate used his powers to generate clones of his allies as he slowly approached Diamond. Observing this, Diamond began to smile, "How about I even those odds." After finishing his sentence, 20 identical clones of Diamond manifested themselves behind him. Unlike other clones or copies, these 20 were able to act independently as a collective hive mind. The original Diamond attacked Viciate head on while the duplicates attacked the other clones and others attempted to free the prisoners. Viciate attempted in drawing his sword to strike Diamond in an exposed position, but Diamond's intense senses was able to prevent Viciate from using his sword. In a matter of seconds, Diamond punched Viciate to a bloody mess before leaving him stuck on one of the walls.
His abilities alerted him of several imps closing on his position, and in a swift motion, Diamond created a new Sword of Light, which was far longer and sharper to simultaneously decapitate all of the imps that circled around him. While watching all of this unfold before her very eyes, Selena could not help but smile at seeing Diamond restored to his former self, "He's back." A clone of Diamond randomly appeared next to her, "Nice to know I'm no longer on house arrest." The clone was able to free Selena from her chains and started to free the rest of the prisoners. After freeing them, he gave the group a new set of orders, "I may not know all of you, but focus your abilities in taking down those devilish warriors over there. I'll handle Paradox." The clone soon vanished alongside the other copies leaving only the original Diamond left. Just when Diamond started to follow Paradox's trail, Lorenzo used his acidic whip to suspend Diamond in place. Lorenzo was successful in his attack and used this advantage to expel fatal toxins into Diamond's lungs. "Ugh. Dude, you got some serious oral hygiene problems. Here take a mint!" Lorenzo's mouth was open due to him being stunned seeing his foe unphased with his lethal toxin. The supposed mint landed on his tongue, which resulted in a strong electrical shock being sent all over his body causing him to black out. "Nice whip though, I'm for real going to take this for my collection." Diamond bent over and collected the whip before resuming on his mission to destroy Paradox. Paradox was nearly at the entrance of the Well, but felt his body frozen in place, no matter how hard he tried to move. He finally realized he was frozen by Diamond's soul manipulation, yet when he made this realization, Diamond was already floating horizontally whispering into Paradox's audio receptor, "I think I am going to show off my newfound abilities."
Paradox tried to slice Diamond with a chain along his back, but Diamond vanished before he could land a hit. He reappeared behind him and with a simple flick, Diamond sent Paradox crashing through the castle's walls and ceilings. Paradox regained his stance as he morphed into Astros as he stopped a punch from Diamond which sent shockwaves, shattering any neighboring glass. Paradox kicked Diamond at his shin before hitting him with brute force across his face. He summersaulted backwards a few yards as he morphed into the Ice King. He then summoned several frozen daggers and sharp projectiles as he sent them flying towards Diamond at light speed. Diamond noticed the projectiles flying towards him as he achieved speeds that made time around him slow down several seconds. It was if things were occurring to him at a quarter speed, so with a wave of his arm, he took control of the projectiles and had them float around him before resuming time and sending them back to Paradox. Paradox moaned loudly as the projectiles lodged themselves in tight crevasses of his body and interfering with some of the vital mechanisms. The two teleported away from the castle into the depths of the grand city where they continued their battle. Paradox changed into Shen the disgraced Shogun as he desperately tried to slice off Diamond's limbs and head. Diamond casually dodged each attack with ease he summoned the Sword of Light which has grown longer and sharper to reflect his reunion with the Light. The two blades collided with each other, but Paradox was no match for Diamond's swordsman skills.
Diamond noticed Paradox's right arm malfunctioning from one of the ice projectiles and taking advantage of this weakness, he punched Paradox repeatedly in the chest before kicking him to the floor. He then created a revolver from his nanites and fired four bullets consecutively into his weak spot. He knew his bullets succeeded in wounding his opponent, for the sound of loose air began to hiss from broken wires and Paradox's arm glitching by morphing into many different appearances before changing back to its default appearance. Diamond smiled smugly as he released that Paradox was truly terrified in that moment, "Where has your self-confidence gone? Are those appearances not making you comfortable in your mechanical body?" "SHUT UP!" Paradox then changed into Mecha-Diamond as he was able to grab Diamond by his throat and threw him into multiple buildings. The two eventually landed on top of a commuter train before Diamond could free himself. Diamond sliced his opponent's arm to free himself and used his thrusters to fly backwards as he observed Paradox's body shifting gears to re-forge the missing arm. While in the form of Mecha-Diamond, Paradox had four mechanical tentacles grow out of him, which resulted in Diamond activating his suit to grow tentacles of his own. The two opponents had their tentacles wrap around each other as they fired their blasters at each other. Diamond tried to create two clones of himself, but Paradox's tentacles grabbed him and tossed him into one of the train carts as the civilians screamed in terror. He gradually regained consciousness as he prepared to find Paradox, but for a long minute, he could not sense Paradox. It was not until a lady screamed of a large spider approaching them from the other end when Diamond released it is Paradox crawling on all fours with great speed. Paradox shifted back to full height in a most grotesque fashion as his body spun in different ways before his head shifted back to its normal size. Diamond yelled at the passengers to run to the other cart as he dealt with Paradox. While the passengers fled, two extra mechanical arms began to form on Paradox's appearance of Mecha-Diamond as all four of arms ignited red plasma blades. "Attack Diamond!" The four arms began to spin in opposite directions of his body in quick movements as he rapidly approached Diamond that it was impossible to strike him above or behind.
Confused on what his next move should be, Diamond noticed parts of Paradox's chest plate were loose as it was glitching in and out. Out of options, Diamond swung at Paradox which he swiftly blocked with the four blades, but Diamond was able to have his nanotech grow on Paradox's arms as he then had the nanites send an electric shock on the foreign host, which granted him an opening in tearing off the chest plate and firing two blasts from his repulsers into Paradox's chest. This stunned Paradox as Diamond charged at him and began to tear all the vital wires, buttons, and controls that operated Paradox's mechanical body. Paradox's voice box became affected as it began to shift into different tones and voices as he tried to speak, "No, I will.....not.....be bested a.....second......time." Paradox was able to gain control of his arms as he threw Diamond out of the train cart out into the city's skyline. Diamond was able to shoot a grapple around Paradox's legs as he pulled both of them out into the air as his body began to glow golden with pure Light. Paradox descended towards him with chains around his body as he prepared to strike fatal blows on Diamond's body. Diamond closed his eyes as he extended his right arm while having his fingers form a finger gun. He whispered silently with firm conviction, "Through the power of Heaven's Light all things are possible......grant me the power to send this foul demon of a man back to the infernal depths where he belongs." Diamond then fired a large blast of pure Light towards Paradox as his enemy screamed in anger, "NOOOOOOOOOOO!" The power caused from this blast was so strong and hot that it started to melt the metal on Paradox's body and causing any remaining circuits to fry.
Diamond floated towards the ground as he stared at a ball of fire fall towards the ground as it created a large crater. He stepped forward and saw Paradox's mangled body as his soul still held possession of it. Paradox was still able to manipulate his body to change into whoever he chooses, and as a last resort he changed to Diamond's mother. "Trevor.......how could you do this.....to me......your own mother.......after all your father and I have done for you this is how you repay us?" "Quit your bull you pathetic character of a soul. If I had the power to judge you in the afterlife, I would create a separate place for sadistic manipulators such as yourself so all you scoundrels can do nothing more than hurt yourselves for your sins!" Diamond then used his power to lift Paradox in the air and was about to crush his body and seal his soul permanently, but as he did so a blazing portal appeared as a pitch-black arm reached out and snatched Paradox before Diamond had time to react. Dumbfounded, Diamond de-activated his suit and left his Light form in order to process what happened. Realizing there was nothing else to do he traveled back to the castle. When he arrived, he saw how the group of heroes easily defeated all of the devilish creatures and were tossing all the dead bodies into a giant pile. Only one thing concerned him, the fact Lorenzo and Viciate's bodies were both missing from the battle. He reasoned they managed to escape, but with the injuries they sustained, it would be a long while before they would show themselves again. After making this assumption, Diamond's family greeted him with open arms and hugs, yet even Diamond did not recognize Tray's new body. Tray had to explain his entire story again to Diamond so he would understand why he looked like "A living glowstick." Hearing Tray's story about Joan made Diamond sorrowful and offered to help in making sure Joan's body receives a proper burial. King Alexander and Diamond hastily organized the funeral and gave Joan's family time to grieve and remember their youngest member that was stolen from them.
While the mourners were conversing with themselves, the king wanted to lead Diamond through the many rooms and wings of the enchanting castle. He wanted to show Diamond the inner secrets and history of this castle, so he very discretely led him down a flight of stairs into an older section of the castle where even most of the king's court were not allowed to enter. The two stepped through two enormous emerald doors and continued on through the darkness. The king ignited a turquoise flame from his hands and led Diamond to a large wall. King Alexander, "Stare at these murals Diamond. Notice the story they tell." Diamond stared at the murals and paintings on the wall trying to understand the history behind them. He saw what appeared to be angels directing two races. To the right were humans with their leader baring a resemblance to Alexander with folded hands in prayer as their eyes gazed at the Heavenly specters, in addition it appeared that swords and shields were descending towards them. To the left were the ancient race of Enders who also had their gaze towards Heaven, but descending towards their hands were scrolls with quills, signifying their role to write and document. At the front of the line of Enders stood none other than Ranfus, although significantly younger. Diamond continued down the wall as the next scene involved the leaders of the humans and enders being coronated with the two leaders' hands being locked in agreement. The next scene depicted what was either a battle or war where many humans and enders were dead, brough to their demise by rebellious humans. It depicted how after the battle Ranfus took the remaining enders away to a place that could supervise the entire Megaverse free from human interaction. The last scene showed the battle worn king of the humans siting on his throne with a tear in his left eye, while his right side remained stoic. His left arm pointed downwards to a decree while his right arm pointed upwards with a grand castle and city floating in the palm of his hand. "The Enders used to dwell with you?" "Indeed, for you see, the king in those murals is actually my great-grandfather. Time goes by very slowly for us here, not only that but we tend to live for thousands of years. Originally, after the first man and woman were created and fell into sin, we were created in the aftermath of that event. We bear the same weaknesses as other humans after the fall, but we were created to protect the Enders, who would document the shifting tide of Creation across the Megaverse. Our special duty connected us more in tune with the messengers of Heaven and we strived to live up to our mission of acting as the second example for the Megaverse, the Main Omniverse being the first. Yet, a few of the humans of my great-grandfather's time were seduced by the powers of evil for the many fallen angels, now turned demons, preyed upon their fallen status and sparked division between human and ender. Eventually a genocide broke out where rogue humans wanted the power of the Enders to themselves and would slaughter anyone who opposed them. My great-grandfather and Ranfus ultimately triumphed, but the damage had been done for the Enders no longer trusted us and collectively agreed humans everywhere were unpredictable and destructive. Ranfus left this Omniverse with the survivors of his race, thus leaving us as the sole inhabitants of this realm. From the ashes of the old kingdom, my great-grandfather led the creation of a new one as you can see here, but the reason why his left side is sad is the fact he did not kill the leaders of the rebellion. He did not want to take their lives, so instead he banished them to the wildness of the Megaverse. After casting them out of this Omniverse, he placed a ban where no one will be able to enter or leave. Using his divine gifts, he was able to practically make it seem like this Omniverse was erased and could not be discoverable unless him or another king wills its borders to open up once again."
"And what happened to the exiled ones?" "Most of them died across the Megaverse but their main leader, Mek'el continued following the path of evil and grew stronger in the powers of darkness. This granted him an unnatural talent of cheating death, but when an event in Omniverse 63,745 occurred when that Omniverse's Celestial had an offspring with that Omniverse's name for an angel, Mek'el sensed the potential of such an offspring." "Hold on, that's the Omniverse the Megaverse Council and I had named Evangelion. Yeah, those creatures they call angels are definitely not real angels, but you mean to tell me that this Mek'el influenced The Devourer?" "No, Mek'el BECAME The Devourer. He transferred his soul into the newborn soul of the deadly offspring, completely fusing with the new soul. In response to this, my great-grandfather on his deathbed, ordered my grandfather to create a device that could end Mek'el once and for all. That device was the Matrix of Eternity. It was hastily crafted before my grandfather sent it to Omniverse 63,745 hoping it could destroy Mek'el there. Unfortunately, it did not fulfill its original purpose due to Mek'el fully becoming The Devourer and traveled across the Megaverse eating the Core of whatever Omniverse he entered. His travels would take a long time to reach his next destination, but nothing could stop him. The Matrix continued to grow with wisdom in Omniverse 63,745 before an apparition of an Ender ordered a singular person to send the Matrix in the direction of the Main Omniverse. Eventually, the Matrix landed in your Omniverse, but was kept hidden for a long time with only glimpses and rumors of such a treasure of untold power being passed on from dimension to dimension. Finally at last, you found it in 2021 just as The Devourer arrived in your Omniverse. Little did you know, but upon his defeat when you unleashed the power of the Matrix, it sent shockwaves across the Megaverse. Myself along with my people celebrated when we felt the destruction of The Devourer, finally knowing a dark piece of our history has been put to rest." "When I traveled to Omniverse 63,745 last summer, it was promoted that they created the Matrix of Eternity." "Their leaders simply changed the story and wiped our part out of their history books, for the select few who told you it was their ancestors that created it are not at fault. For they too believe this error, this is simply a mistake on their ancestor's part and nothing more. Come along now, let's head back up a few stairs back to where there was an intersection, there is more I need to show you."
The king led Diamond to a room with many floating orbs that had different colors symbolizing a different Omniverse. "I am aware that you and the Megaverse Council have a broad idea to all the soldiers at the disposal of our enemy. But I want to show you some specific souls that are.......unique. The person known as The Ageless managed to recruit several corrupted versions of the strongest beings in your Omniverse's hierarchy. Among them consist of a fallen Omniversal Tribunal, Protectors, Insanity Trio, Bad Time Trio, many alternate timeline versions of you, and other powerful individuals from the Megaverse. The Ageless and Demonic Council calls this elite group the Bad End Friends. King Alexander brings forth an orb that displays the souls of those fallen humans. This reveals the true thoughts of their soul and what their soul really says." Diamond leaned forward to hear the cries of their souls and was surprised to hear their souls cry out in unison. "We just wanted to heal but now our nightmares are real, and we'll never wake up for we're torn apart! We want freedom! Freedom! Freedom!" Diamond could not believe what he heard, for it caused him to step back to avoid their cries. "Secondly, I want to briefly touch on the Ageless' story. Thousands of years ago lived a man born with unnatural gifts, he could enter into violent places and leave with minor bruises. He was able to kill the celestials in his world with his mere hands and crude weapons. Yet, he was not satisfied, he wanted more power and more entities to kill, for he enjoyed the bloodlust. This led to him being sought out by the fallen Seraphim now named Black Hat. He offered him more power and an entire place beyond his imagination to live the rest of his days as a butcher. The man agreed and henceforth became an unwavering servant directly to Black Hat. Eventually, he earned a reputation by parading himself as a savior wearing polished white and gold armor, in order to win the trust of many defenders who protected their native Omniverse. Once he won their complete trust and learned their secrets and fears, it would be too late for that Omniverse. For it would be a matter of time before complete carnage would be unleashed on all the helpless souls in that Omniverse. Thus, he was given the title Harbinger of the End.......a human who is an undisputed champion in gladiator battles with a mind to match his muscles.......a man always youthful, laughing at the hands of time........The Ageless."
"The last thing I want to reveal to you is the location of our enemy's base. The Megaverse Council has discovered it and that is Omniverse 6,666,666. That Omniverse had so many events that ran parallel with your Omniverse it was almost an exact copy. However, before your Omniverse was assaulted by Black Hat's forces in 2021, they won a resounding battle in that Omniverse. Everything that could have gone wrong in that final battle, did indeed go wrong." King Alexander used his powers to generate a vision of that fateful day. The scene pans to a bloodied and defeated Diamond with a shattered Sword of the Omniverse with Black Hat towering over him. The two listened intently when Black Hat spoke, "The Initiative has fallen. Its members......lost. You have been deceived......betrayed.........purged." The vision hovers over countless bodies of Initiative members that had died in the battle with some of their corpses disfigured and mutilated they were unidentifiable. "I can feel you are scared of judgement day. You led millions of souls to their grave. Your lukewarm faith shaken due to your pleas and petitions being ignored. So, I offer you a choice. Join us and postpone the judgement day, have all the pleasures of the world handed back to you, and avoid living the life as a failure!" The defeated Diamond raised his teary eyes and spoke, "I......accept!" The crowd around him chuckled as Black Hat stepped away with Alastor taking his place, "It's a deal!" The defeated Diamond shook his hand and became controlled and a vessel for Alastor until his original body could be restored. After this moment a large echo of thunder echoes across the battlefield with a bright light shining in the distance. The Ageless, "What is that?" Black Hat, "The veil of the Main Omniverse has been lifted. We are no longer kept out! We must seize this opportunity before it's too late." Ageless remain here with Alastor's vessel." "Why?" "If things go sour for me and my forces in the Main Omniverse, I want us to still have a strong foothold here in the Megaverse. This Omniverse will be perfect. I will be taking half of our forces with me." "What of the few people who survived this battle, should I find them and use them as prisoners and entertainment?" Black Hat had a sadistic smile, "There are no survivors!" The vision then played the sounds of screams with Diamond begging Alexander to end the vision. "That's enough! I cannot watch nor listen to this vision anymore! Please end this nightmare!"
Alexander ended the vision as the two were brought back to reality. Alexander spoke with sympathy to Diamond, "I did not show you that vision to torture you. I revealed it, because you need to understand exactly what to expect from our enemy and take deep root in your faith." "Why did the pleas and petitions of that Diamond go unanswered?" "Truthfully, that Diamond did not pray for deliverance, he instead wanted more glory and praise. When he was in public and prayed, it was for show, and he was not sincere in the words he said. Even at the last moment, he received a message from Heaven begging him to repent from his prideful ways and deliverance would come. Yet, in that last moment, he refused with his soul saying no it has to be my way and I do not want to change the life I am living and that's final. It was his fault no Heavenly aid came, now he has no one else to blame other than himself for his misdeeds and wickedness." Diamond's body had a series of goosebumps when King Alexander finished speaking. He always wondered what would have happened in the final battle for his Omniverse if there was no intervention, now he wished for this catastrophic example to leave his mind.
After this event, King Alexander led Diamond to a sacred place called the Veil of the Celestial Plane to speak with his angelic friends. Along the way, King Alexander explained to Diamond the difference between True Balance and Perfection. How True Balance is the perfect imperfect form of Perfection, because as mortal creatures that are finite with flaws no person alive can reach True Perfection. He explained how demons fear True Balance and how the demons only focus on temporal goals not eternal, for all that awaits them in eternity is eternal punishment. (This is a footnote, because at the end of this post in the comment section I will share the entire conversation in greater detail, for some reason the Sub-Reddit automatic rules count it as a rating post no matter how hard I rephrased the dialogue. Very weird that happened because it never happened before, but hopefully I will be able to share that conversation in full under this post, because it took a lot of effort in composing the dialogue.)
Filled with courage and zeal from their conversation, Diamond entered into the Veil and soon found himself in a vast empty white plain where numerous figures of light floated around him before manifesting themselves as angelic beings. He observed how each of the nine choirs of angels were present. "The Seraphim, Cherubim, Thrones, Dominions, Virtues, Powers, Principalities, Archangels, and Angels. All present here at this very moment." A Seraphim spoke up, "Why do you wish to commune with us?" "I am here seeking advice from my Heavenly friends in these trying times. I'm sure all of you are very much aware and can sense in the Celestial Cosmic Plane that the forces of evil are growing ever so powerful. I can feel it within my being that soon a final confrontation may happen." Saint Michael the Archangel, "You already possess all that you need. You know the prayers for deliverance and aid. Furthermore, you know how your enemy thinks." "With all due respect, this time it is different. Different than the way it was for the fate of the Main Omnvierse. This....is the fate of the Megaverse....of everything that had exist, currently exists and will exist. Please there must be some advice all of you may be able to bestow upon me." A Virtue floated towards Diamond's soul to speak, "These particular demons feast on fear, chaos, and revenge. They want nothing more than to see the righteous fall, yet their common weakness is the sin of pride." Uriel intervened, "Pride, that ancient sin which was the sole root that led a third of our former brothers and sisters into disobedience. Fully rejecting the True Love of the Father and willingly following the arrogance of the fallen light bearer, who now brings darkness and death to everyone." Azrael quickly followed up with Uriel's statement, "When they fell from grace, they still retained their position and powers. Now with their leaders nearly having their bodies restored before their fall, through the power of The Seed, they are more of a threat to the Natural Order."
Diamond came to a sudden realization, "With Cloaked Shadow having control of the Dark and shadows in general, does that mean he was a Power before he fell?" The choirs nodded as Diamond responded with his hands near his mouth deep in thought. "I see, well if pride is their weakness than surely arrogance is a key factor in their personalities. Perhaps if the Matrix of Eternity is re-loaded with the knowledge accessible from the Alphaverse, it could overwhelm them." A Cherub, "Yes! The knowledge from the Alphaverse can restore the Matrix and used to harm the demons!" Saint Gabriel the Archangel, "Do not be afraid in this next step in your journey, Trevor. Since the fall of man, the Devil and his minions have actively been at war with mankind, searching for ways to snatch souls from Heaven. Yet, in the history of not only the Megaverse, but your own world, you know that God conquers all, even in the darkest times. From the persecution of the early Christians under the rule of the Mad Emperor Nero, deadly heresies, scandals, political and religious wars, the French Revolution, Napoleon Wars, Russian Revolution, Mexican Revolution, World Wars, down to the present. The demons worked through man to not only bring ruin to the face of the Earth, but to attack the Church. However, both the Earth and the Church have endured and will continue to endure until the end of time when God will come in all His splendor and glory and reward the just while punishing the wicked. For they will receive their reward." A Throne, "There is one more thing that will surely turn the tide of the war, but only as a last resort." Diamond, "What is it? Please share." A Seraphim, "The hypothesis of you being able to fuse with your friends Ben Tennyson and Xavier is true. If Xavier is fully in tune with his scarab and enter into his phase known as Sacred and Tennyson into Alien X, you three will become the singular most powerful entity in the entire Megaverse." Saint Michael the Archangel, "Be warned for this should only be used as a complete last resort. For there can be no going back when you three become a singular entity. There might be potential for you three to separate from this final form, but if there is, it will be certain death for no mortal can yield that much power. Arise young warrior, take courage, and have total faith on the Lord, He will hear your prayers. Remember we are at your side and every warrior in the final battle will have their guardian angel with them at all times."
The Heavenly beings once again became balls of bright light, which slowly blinded Diamond before he awoke from his vision back in his own body just before the Veil of the Celestial Plane. King Alexander stared at Diamond before helping him to his feet. Diamond, "I know what I must do. I must re-load the Matrix in the Well of the Megaverse." Alexander, "That's suicide. For you to be exposed to so much power and knowledge, it will vaporize you." "Believe me, it will work. Just help me recover the pieces of the Matrix and I will reforge it with the nanotech from my suit." Diamond sprinted with great haste through all the flights of stairs Alexander had them take, back to where the pieces of the Matrix laid. He had Alexander hold the pieces together in their proper position as the nanotech from his suit crawled around the broken pieces and fused the Matrix back together again. During this time the other heroes caught up to Diamond and Alexander and decided to watch as Diamond would enter the Well of the Megaverse. King Alexander led the group to the entrance of the Well where everyone wished him good luck. Diamond transformed into his Light form and entered the Well. This form allowed him to withstand the pressure around him as he opened the Matrix to collect wisdom from all corners of the Megaverse both the good and bad. When he did this, thousands of images and lifetimes flashed in his mind causing him to scream, in order to avoid his mind from overloading he constantly switched to different forms and phases every 30 seconds. Everyone waited anxiously outside after hearing Diamond's screams and began to fear for the worst, but just when their hope wavered, a silhouette started to walk towards them. From the depths of the Well emerged Diamond holding the restored Matrix of Eternity firmly in his right hand. King Alexander, "Welcome back Diamond!" "Thanks. With the Matrix restored and the new alliance your Omniverse has made with the Megaverse Council, hope for our victory has reached an all-time high." The heroes only stayed for a few more hours at the Alphaverse before returning back to the base of the Megaverse Council. Upon arrival, the Council members were stunned to see the return of their leader, and with swift orders, Diamond once again regained leadership of the Megaverse Council.
Epilogue
In a desolate place with abandoned buildings in Omniverse 3. "Volxi, can you head downstairs into our storage to bring some refreshment to our party?" "You got it sis!" Volxi entered into one of the chambers to find a spare stash of spiked beverages but was startled when she heard a voice echo in the darkness. "Time's running out Vol." She leaned over to view where the voice was coming from until her eyes landed on a glowing dark green warrior. She gasped as she recognized it was her old friend from Omniverse 8. "Cayden what happened to you?" "That name no longer has any meaning for me." "You look so different. Your skin is green and your eyes black. You look like......" "A ghost? Phantom? Condemned Soul?! Truly a miserable fate I have fallen into. Given a body constantly degenerating and repairing itself, allowing me to phase between matter but how painful it is feeling my cells destroy themselves before regenerating and repeating the process all over again." "Is this a dream?" "No." "I thought not, if it was there would be something to replenish my throat." Cayden hands Volxi a bottle. "Thanks mate. I still have a cup on me. Here it's on the house." Cayden took a long sip before speaking. "We haven't seen each other since the destruction of your people's original home. A lot has happened since then. Last year a terrible event plagued the Megaverse and I tried to stop it. I made my own device that enabled me to visit other Omniverses. I could sense something sinister causing many Omniverses to die. I took my weapons and went to who I thought was responsible. That man was so strong and talented, he mortally wounded me without taking our fight seriously. I thought at that moment when I laid dying that I would give anything to get a second chance at life. To see my friends and family again. My requests were answered by a figure in black business attire and a top hat."
Volxi groaned for she knew who he was referring to while Cayden continued on with his speech. "I accepted his offer and became what you see before you. The only part that was positive is in our contract, I managed to still own partial control of my soul. Perhaps it is through this partial ownership that causes me to experience great pains and desperately seek liberation." "And you came back to your friend for aid huh?" "No, I came as a messenger." Volxi stared at him with concern. "You struck a deal with him too, Volxi. A deal before your home, the ninth Omniverse was destroyed, causing you and all the survivors to wander throughout the Megaverse." "I forgot all about that deal. It can't happen this soon, he did not even stay true to his promise." "Is that really a surprise?" "DANG IT! Alright I'll wager my way out of it. I always do." "You can't talk to yourself out of this one!" "How long do I have Cayden?" Cayden stepped close to Volxi where he was only a few inches away from her face. "That name has no meaning for me, I'm The Shameful now. You have only a few hours. He will send his terrible leviathan to drag you, your sister, and this entire Omniverse along with you! Already his army sets their eyes on this world, drawn by ravenous hunger, by the one who bears the crimson scar." The Shameful laid his hand on a piece of Volxi's face that was not covered by cybernetics. "Make peace with your losses and may it only be a swift end and not a contract of servitude. Alas, he always comes to collect what is his." In that moment The Shameful vanished from her sight and without a moment to lose, she started running back upstairs into the settlement screaming for everyone to pack their things and prepare to leave. Her sister, Val stopped her, "Did you fall down the stairs giving you that slash across your face? What's coming after us?" Volxi stared deep into her sister's soul, "We need to run as far as we can and get our people to safety before it's too late." From a few hundred yards away The Ageless stood waiting for the perfect time to strike with Maestro Zorro summoning the nightmarish Leviathan.

Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
We pulled off I-51 a little after midnight, stopping at a truck stop which was couched between the highway and a large forest.
We waited in the van for ten minutes or so. Trent had increased the sonar radius to its maximum of 30 miles a little over an hour ago. Somehow the red pings had kept up with us, holding a steady distance of around 20 miles. Considering we were averaging around 80 mph, and a coyote's top speed is only around 40 mph, we figured they had been enhanced in some way. Either that, or they shape-shifted into something faster. Regardless, now that we had stopped, we waited to see if the demon spawn would try and close the distance. Luckily, or unluckily, they didn't. They kept their 20 mile buffer, but we noticed they were beginning to spread out along the circumference of that boundary.
"We're close. They know that, so they're trying to trap us in." Trent said.
"Trying to?—more like they have."
We considered whether we should stay in the van and keep watch, but we figured that would do us little good. At their speed, they could be on us in ten minutes, which means we would need to stay up all night and keep tabs on their positions. Trent offered to stay up, of course, but I shut him down.
"The demon doesn't want to kill us now. You said it yourself. Plus, we need our rest. If they come, they come."
Trent didn't like it, but he acquiesced.
The truck stop had all the essentials: a gas station and mini mart with showers and an attached McDonald's, a large parking lot for truckers to idle and sleep, and even a section with lodging for those who wanted a more comfortable night's rest. I told Trent that he should take advantage of the showers, and after a little convincing, he agreed. While he was cleaning himself up, I patrolled the dingy, half-stocked aisles of "Daisy's Quick Mart". I probably would have been appalled at the quality of the store had I actually been paying any attention to it whatsoever. But I wasn't. I was thinking hard about what awaited me tomorrow.
During the drive, I had asked Trent why the demon would want us to return to the crash site. What did he mean that I would be 'confronting a dark entity in a place he couldn't help me'? He seemed hesitant to answer, but my little stunt outside the storage facility seemed to have sufficiently motivated him.
"When I said I've never done this before, I meant it." Trent started. "I've never done this exact thing before—meaning I've never projected someone into the past."
"So, I'm time traveling?" I asked.
"No—don't think of it like that." Trent paused, trying to come up with a good explanation. "It's more like I'm opening a window for you to look through: not a door. You're going to see the past, but you can't interact with the physicalities there. But that doesn't mean you can't interact with anything."
There was a space of silence as Trent tried to let me work out his meaning for myself. "I don't get it. Are you saying there's something I can interact with? Like what?" And then it hit me. "The demon. The demon can interact with me? Meaning what? It can kill me?"
"Meaning… I'm not exactly sure. You're going to be in a kind of psychic space. If it does damage, it won't be to your body. It'll be to your mind—or spirit. But I don't know what the limits of that damage could be. I just don't have those answers."
"If you've never done this, how do you know any of it will work?"
"That's an easy one." Trent answered. "Because it's been done to me."
There was silence.
"Look, if I know anything, I know my tech. Don't doubt that this will work. It's my job to make sure it does. I just need you to be in the right mental for this. Just because it knows your coming doesn't mean it automatically has the upper hand. It won't be able to see you unless you make contact with it first. In other words, you have to initiate contact. As long as you remain a spectator, you should be okay. Trust me. Just don't make contact."
I started pacing faster—fast enough to catch the attention of the overnight shift worker, a young man whose name I can't quite remember. I know it started with a "J". Jake, maybe? Anyway, he asked if I was alright, to which I responded in the affirmative. He left me alone for another couple passes, but when I almost ran into one of the shelves, he stood up and said, "Uh—I'm going to have to ask you to stop running around. I don't want you to hurt yourself."
I must have stared daggers at him, because he recoiled from my gaze. What's gotten into me? I thought. Then, steadying myself, I apologized. I looked around and grabbed the nearest edible looking piece of merchandise: a bag of Swedish Fish, and placed it down on the counter. "Just this, please."
The cashier rang me up. It was surprisingly cheap.
"Are you sure you're alright?" the young man asked. He was tall with brown hair. He seemed tired—maybe even more tired than me. But he also seemed kind.
I smiled as best I could and said, "No, I'm not. But there's not really anything you can do. Hell, there might not be anything I can do." I furrowed my eyebrows at my own response, realizing that imminent death may have broken my verbal filter.
On the other hand, the cashier did not seem surprised at all. "Ah, I see. It's one of those problems." He responded. "Well, hey, for what it's worth, you seem like one of the resilient ones. I think you'll be alright."
I only smiled and nodded at his mildly cryptic comment. Looking back, the whole interaction was a bit strange, but I had way too much mental clutter to recognize that in the moment. I took my Swedish Fish and walked through the anteroom which led to McDonald's. I found an open yellow booth that wasn't littered with crumpled straw sleeves and sat down, chomping mindlessly on my little red fish until Trent returned. When he arrived, he took my place, and I went to shower. After we were both clean and fed, we returned to the van. The pings were still pushed safely out of harm's way. But that didn't mean we were out of harm's way. Trent asked me if I wanted to sleep in the van, saying that "it'd be the safest place."
I thought it over. He was right, obviously. The van was not only outfitted with weapons I couldn't even begin to understand, but it was also our escape, and it would be just as difficult, if not more difficult to break into than the studio-style motel rooms with their wood doors and big windows. Still, if this was going to be my last night on earth, I wanted to sleep in a bed. A real bed. Trent understood and said he'd stay parked right outside my room for the night.
After purchasing a key from the night attendant, I moseyed over to the cement walkways which connected the twenty or so rooms. Mine was room #56, which I thought was odd since, like I said, there were only 20 rooms. I lugged in my tomato plushie and dad's old book and placed them on the queen mattress.
"I'll be right outside." Trent said after I collapsed onto the bed.
"Trent," I called out, stopping him half-way through the door.
"Yeah?"
All the blood in my body rushed up to my face as I realized my unfiltered mouth almost reflexively said the word "stay". I stared at Trent, my heart beating, my face hot. I considered asking him to sleep on the floor like my dad, but that would be childish and impolite. The alternative was to share my bed… Or I could take the floor.
"I'll just be right outside." Trent said before my mind processed a solution. "Come by if you need anything. I'll be up most of the night anyway."
"Okay," I replied in a faint voice.
Trent shut the door.
I sat atop the bedsheets and acquainted myself with my new living space. A feeling of regret closed over me as I considered that even sleeping on a carseat would have been better if it meant I didn't have to be alone. With a sigh, I turned on the bedside lamp and grabbed the book and stuffed tomato, using the tomato as a backrest as I slipped my legs under the covers and situated the book upright on my thighs. I cracked it open and was immediately blasted with a puff of dusty, old book scent. It was ripe at first, and I turned my head away to sneeze, but as I perused through the pages, the scent grew on me. It reminded me of the days growing up when I'd step into dad's study and read through one of the many volumes on cryptic topics which were at least two college degrees above my Lexile range.
I was only a couple minutes into browsing the collection of different scientific and philosophical works when I came across a page which contained highlighted text. This was unusual, as my dad would never mark up his books. He was a purist on that point. I rubbed my thumb over the yellow lines, and sure enough, it was highlighter.
The highlighted text was part of a small book by Carl Jung called "Synchronicity". There were a total of three pages that were marked, and they advanced like this:
Page 5:
The philosophical principle that underlies our conception of natural law is causality*. But if the connection between cause and effect turns out to be only statistically valid and relatively true, then the causal principle is only of relative use for explaining natural processes… That is as much to say that the connection of events may in certain circumstances be other than causal, and require another principle of explanation.*
Page 19:
…there are events which are related to one another experimentally, and in this case meaningfully*, without there being any possibility of proving that this relation is a causal one, since the "transmission" exhibits none of the known properties of energy…a situation which does not yet exist and will only occur in the future could transmit itself as a phenomenon of energy to a receiver in the present…Therefore, it cannot be a question of cause and effect, but of a falling together in time, a kind of simultaneity... "synchronicity"*
Page 22:
A young woman I was treating had, at a critical moment, a dream in which she was given a golden scarab. While she was telling me this dream I sat with my back to the closed window. Suddenly I heard a noise behind me, like a gentle tapping. I turned round and saw a flying insect knocking against the window pane from outside. I opened the window and caught the creature in the air as it flew in. It was the nearest analogy to a golden scarab that one finds in our latitudes, a scarabaeid beetle, the common rose-chafer… which contrary to its usual habits had evidently felt an urge to get into a dark room at this particular moment.
I flipped through the rest of the pages of the book. There was no more highlighted text, but there was a message on the last page which read:
Matthew 7:7-8
I'll meet you in the darkest place.
He also included his typical smiley face which had an ovular shape and three sprouts of hair which I now realized kind of resembled my tomato plushie. It was my dad's writing, of course. But why? And how? What did this mean?
The motel had a Bible stashed away in the nighstand drawer. I got it out and looked up the verses which read the following:
Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you: for every one that asketh receiveth; and he that seeketh findeth; and to him that knocketh it shall be opened.
I spent maybe an hour ruminating on all of this. The whole discourse on energy and causality and a "falling together in time" just seemed so right. It was clear that my dad definitely did know what I was going through, but for whatever reason, he made it seem like he was oblivious. Why had he hidden that from me? I felt like I was being pulled in two directions. On the one hand, my dad loved me enough to leave this note, maybe even knowing the exact moment I'd need it. But on the other hand, he had neglected my struggles throughout my entire childhood. He even lied at times. Was this really enough to make up for all of that?
And then there was the section about the future transmitting energy to the past. I read back through the whole paragraph and the original writer had meant it to say this as something that wasn't possible, but my dad's highlighting made it seem like he wanted to flip the meaning. The future does affect the past. I thought about where I was headed and wondered if I would soon discover that for myself.
Lastly, dad's message. The Bible verse reminded me of the first time I prayed; how I reached out to God and received peace as an answer to my prayer. Now I feel like I'm actively seeking… something, but I don't know yet what I'll find. And then there's knocking. At first that reminded me of the story with the beetle tapping on the window, but then I went back even deeper in my memory and dug out the monster tapping at my window, and the words my dad spoke to me in order to set my mind at ease: "you're a superhero. And you know what your greatest superpower is? Your greatest power is you get to tell the monsters what to do. Because the monsters are only as strong as the stories you tell about them…so if you're ever scared, honey, just dream up a better story."
I was crying into my stuffed tomato now. I felt like all the blinking pieces of my life had finally been pulled together into a completed puzzle. This was all by design. My entire life, filled with so much chaos and confusion, was actually preparing me for this moment. And my dad thought I had the tools and strength enough to get through it. I flipped through the book one more time, thinking maybe he had left some other hidden comment—some formula to defeat this demon and return home. But there was nothing. Only that one comment: "I'll meet you in the darkest place."
What's the darkest place, dad? Is that where I'm going? Are you saying you'll be there, too?
With those thoughts in mind, my eyes became heavy shutters which, with a slight pressure on the pulley, winded shut. My swimming thoughts and firework-like fears dissipated, and I returned to a precious childhood memory. It was after an evening soccer practice. Summer. Dad was driving me to Dairy Queen. I got a cherry-dipped twist cone. I was happy.
So, so happy.
***
I woke up to sunlight blaring through my windows. Shit, I overslept, was my immediate thought. I threw off my covers and opened the front door. A glance at the clock showed 1:13 PM. I shouldn't have even been allowed to stay checked in this long. Damn, am I gonna get double-billed for this?
I heard a rummaging sound around the corner of my motel room. It sounded like a squirrel was trying to find an afternoon snack in one of the garbage bins. I stepped outside. The sun was extremely bright, to the point where I had to squint and put my hand over my eyes to even see the ground in front of me. I was trying to walk toward the van, but somehow I ended up in front of the trash bins where the animal's tail was sticking out from a turned-over, silver garbage can. Its tail was wagging excitedly, and I remember thinking that it was much too large to be a squirrel.
The animal bent down as if biting onto something, and I heard the sound of its growl as it struggled to tug whatever it was free from the barrel. Inch by inch, the creature backed out of the canister, and more of its sharp, sticky hair was revealed. I heard something snap, then the creature leapt back and I saw what it was chomping on. My eyes widened in horror as the pink tube of a human intestine was pulled taut like the end of a tangled hose. Blood and entrails were spilling out of the human's opened gut. And then, behind the canine, I saw the person's face. His face was pale white, his eyes closed, and his hair was slicked back… It was Trent.
Before I could react, I heard footsteps approaching from behind. I whirled around and saw my dad. But—no, it wasn't him. It was someone wearing a paper-mache face mask that was painted to look like my dad. The forehead of the mask was already beginning to crack, white specks breaking off like sawdust. Through the cracks, I could see the figure's true form. I didn't know darkness had its own type of light, but that's the only way to describe it. It was as if malevolence itself was reified into a skin which was actually an amalgamation of millions of little, oozing parasites that leached into the nearby light. When it finally spoke, the demon's voice was a full octave lower than the old man's at the deli. And it had an earth-stilling gravitas.
"Today's the day!" He sang and reached into his pocket. His lips curled upward into a foxy smirk. "You have no idea how long I've waited for this day." He said and held up a razor blade. Half his facade had already fallen apart, and now I could see the bugs up close, writhing in what was either horror or ecstasy. And his scent… it was somehow more rank than the rabid coyote rummaging through the trash can with Trent's cut open body inside. The demon closed in on my position, and in one, decisive motion, he brought the blade close to his chin, then sliced it across my throat. "Wake up!" He screamed.
I jumped out of my bed and grabbed my throat, feeling the cold sting of its quick slice. Hyperventilating, I patted the area down, trying to hold the blood in, but when I removed my hands, I saw they were dry. It was only a dream, I thought. Gray light was only beginning to filter in through the drapes. I'm in my hotel room. I'm safe. I tried consoling, but the pragmatic mental massages weren't enough to hold the force of my knees buckling. I dropped onto the carpet and cried for a long while.
Outside, rain was beginning to fall.
***
By the time I met up with Trent, I had already composed myself and decided to keep my dad's message and the nightmare to myself. None of it seemed particularly productive from a logistical standpoint, anyway. And I wanted to focus on the mission.
We stopped by McDonald's and bought a couple cups of coffee. Trent asked if I wanted any food, and I declined. Black coffee seemed like the only thing my stomach could take at the present moment. I could tell Trent was hungry, but he tried playing it off (I guess to be respectful of me?) I told him to knock it off and get something to eat. I didn't need my Charon getting lightheaded and dropping the paddle before he finished rowing me to Hell. He didn't care much for my joke, but he ordered a couple Chicken McGriddles at the kiosk anyway.
There were maybe ten patrons spread throughout the restaurant. We sat down at the same booth from the prior night, this time across from one another. Trent spent the first ten minutes or so babbling about our fuel supply and the logistics of the trip from here on in. Practical stuff. I've come to realize that's how he deals with his stress. He talks it out in short, durable sentences. I mostly nodded and watched as what looked like a storm front closed in on the truck stop. The sky was overcast, and there were darker clouds in the distance. The rain was still only a patter, but a middle-aged man wearing a yellow bow tie on the wall-mounted TV confirmed that there would be heavier rain and thunderstorms very soon.
After the worker delivered Trent's food and he ate it in record time, I posed the one question that was still on my mind.
"How do I fight him?" I asked.
Trent finished a large gulp of his coffee, then looked at me. It was the first substantial thing I'd said all morning; Trent could tell something was off with me, but he figured there was no point in asking what it was. "By 'him', I assume you mean the demon?"
I nodded.
Trent licked his teeth clean. "You could try praying again."
"I'm serious," I responded.
"I'm serious, too. It worked before, didn't it?"
"You mean at my house?"
Trent nodded.
"I thought you weren't a religious man?"
"I'm not. Just a practical one. If praying worked before, maybe it'll work again."
"That's the best you've got? A maybe?"
"No, I've got a lot of shit better than a maybe." He answered. "It's just not accessible where you're going. Which is why I recommend not making contact on the first run."
"First run? So we're going to do this more than once?"
"At least," Trent answered. Then, seeing my expression, he continued. "What? You thought this was going to be a one-and-done? We have to conduct some research first. I did tell you this was new for me, right?"
Somehow Trent's response had set my mind at ease a little. I was going to have more than one chance. Of course, why wouldn't I be able to go back more than once?
"Why didn't you tell me this earlier? It would have gone a long way in easing my mind."
Trent lifted his hands in defense. "Sorry, I just thought that was a given. I mean, what we're doing is dangerous, just like I said, but it doesn't mean we aren't going to approach this as safely and scientifically as possible. However, there is a different problem with running multiple trials."
"The Organization?"
"That's right," Trent said like a proud parent. "Our little experiment will be like a giant spotlight, and the longer we wait around after it's on us, the greater the chance we'll have unwelcome company."
"So, safe but speedy."
"Safe but speedy. Exactly."
***
We fueled up and were back on the road a little after 8:00. From that point on, Trent and I were absolutely silent. I had the distinct feeling of being in the eye of a storm. The pings moved closer commensurate with our progress toward the crash site. The cloudfront continued its advance. And I noticed a haze beginning to descend onto the road ahead of us. It was fog.
We meandered further inland, the forest thickening around us until the rain almost stopped entirely—the leaves drinking it up before it fell onto our windshield. I kept my eyes on the radar. We were approaching the large yellow circle which indicated we had arrived. As we pulled closer, I began to feel things. Fear. Eeriness. Doubt. Then happiness. Hope. Love. Normally feelings like these had a clear source to picture, but these sensations came on in waves without any discernible reason. It was almost as if they were blinking into existence inside me.
"Here we go," Trent said like an airline pilot readying his crew for turbulence.
I still recall the exact moment we crossed the boundary into the area of higher energy. It was like something just "clicked" in my brain, and all of a sudden everything felt so much closer. The sound of the rain against the trees was almost right next to my ear. The trees in the distance would oscillate between their position a half-mile out, then suddenly seem five meters away. If I focused on something long enough, it began to radiate those same ethereal particles as when Trent released Ava's "phase lock". I checked to make sure the shifter wasn't set to "TD". Sure enough, it was still in drive.
"Can you see them?" Trent asked. "The shifts?"
"Yeah," I said in a dreamy voice. I felt like I was driving through a wonderland.
"It's the energy. I barely notice a difference. A bit of movement in the trees, but not much else. But I'm sure for you, it's a whole experience."
"What is this?" I raised my hand and caught some of the pixel dust dripping off the sun visor. It disappeared when it made contact with my hand.
"It's a kind of radiation. Everything emits it, just in different quantities. I'm still not exactly sure how it relates to the other realms, but I'm guessing it's a kind of primordial matter that helps connect our worlds."
"It's beautiful," I exclaimed. "I wish I could see the world like this all the time."
"Maybe you will," Trent whispered.
As we arrived at the crash site, I began to get glimpses of the past. My childhood dreams and memories were pushing their way out from my subconscious. I noticed an increased number of blinks, which were validated by Ava who reported the following: "Currently detecting 14,350 novel emergences and 2,777 controlled agents. Net anomalies: 2,777."
"That's a lot of blinks." I remarked. "Why doesn't Ava include them in the net anomalies?"
Trent turned his head so I could see his smirk. "Because blinks aren't anomalies."
I thought about it for a second. Blinks aren't anomalies. "I never thought about it that way."
"It's hard to think about it that way when 'normal' for most people means not picking up on a fundamental aspect of reality. But that doesn't make it any less real."
We continued past the epicenter of the yellow circle. "Are we not stopping?" I asked. "I think we already passed the crash site."
"It doesn't have to be exactly at the site," Trent said. "Plus, we don't want to stop on the side of the road and risk getting some civilian involved. There's a field about half a mile up ahead. I'm going to pull off the road and set up camp there.
The "field" that Trent was referring to was actually a large clearing that dipped down into several trench-like troughs which were filled to the brim with fog like witches cauldrons. Further on in the distance, I saw open fields, probably used for farming, and then a large hill where the trees once again reasserted themselves. We had pulled off the road and up a small incline where the trees had already been broken down, leaving a trail for us to drive through. When we surfaced at the edge of the clearing, Trent pulled us onto a flat bed of dried mud which was maybe thirty yards long.
"Here," he said with a sigh.
We both sat for a minute, looking around at the field. We had finally arrived. The rain was beginning to pick up, and the dark sky made it almost impossible to discern the time of day.
"You ready?" Trent asked.
I looked at him. Really looked at him. In his blue eyes. Was I ready? Did it even matter?
"Let's do this," I said.
***
This was the first time I was really able to inspect the back of Trent's van. He had talked up his gear a lot, and honestly, I was impressed. Not in the way that a scientist is impressed by another scientist's lab—I wasn't any kind of expert—but it still seemed remarkably well managed. Now that I was in a state where my vision had been enhanced, I could actually see the enigmatic particles circulating through the pneumatic tubes which were coiled like the pipes and valves of an elaborate wind instrument. The walls of the van, itself, were glistening white, making it easier to make out everything else inside. Along the floor were five overturned columns. Each column was dark and had a vibrating quality, as if they were charged with energy. Then atop the center three columns was a small altar which supported an apparatus with two skinny, metal arms holding a silver halo. At present, the arms were folded and the halo was suspended a few inches above the altar, faced-down. I thought maybe I'd see particles exuding from it, but instead it was emitting visible waves which bent and warped everything they touched.
"That thing is emitting a lot of energy." I remarked, gesturing toward the halo.
Trent stepped in between the columns and started pulling out the packages he had stuffed in there yesterday. "Just wait till' it's on."
Most of the packages contained only a single piece of equipment, and were otherwise packed with foam peanuts. We carefully removed each box and set them on the ground outside. I asked if the rain would damage any of the stuff inside, to which Trent only laughed and continued lugging out the boxes. When they were all out, Trent removed a box cutter from his pocket and went one-by-one opening them. There were eight pieces in total.
"What is it?" I asked as we fished the first item out.
"It's another apparatus, like the one inside. Except it'll mount on the ground out here."
I pulled out what looked like a metal tripod.
"Good, that'll go on the bottom."
"Where are we setting it up?"
"Over here," Trent said and stepped five paces away from the van. He coordinated himself up so he was centrally aligned with the inner ring, then stomped a few times. "This is the spot."
As we continued to work, I asked Trent about how the whole contraption works.
"Do you remember the first time we were in the van? When we had to escape from the semi-truck?" Trent asked and connected a secondary mounting apparatus on top of the tripod. It had four spider-like legs that made right angles and stuck into the ground.
"Of course," I said. "The 'phase lock'."
"Yeah," Trent said and gestured toward the metal stick that was in my hand. I handed it to him. "The phase lock is a seal on the level of energy that the van is allowed to release. It also controls its dispersion pattern so that it releases its energy in a steady wave. This allows Ava to scan for anomalies without causing us to become an anomaly." Trent stuck the plank into the neck of the tripod.
"So when you released the phase lock, we started emitting more energy."
"That's right." Trent confirmed. "Enough to create an alternate route through a different realm."
"So we blinked into a different realm, then back, just to avoid that truck?"
"That's right."
"But why couldn't we just move out of the way?"
"Because it had locked onto us. It was tracking our motion and adjusting its course based on the amount of energy we were emitting. So in order to escape, we had to radically skew our potential energy and then use it to shift."
"Couldn't he have just followed us?"
Trent connected four more pieces to the device which now looked like an elaborate teepee. He was fishing in the last box when he spoke again. "Yeah, he could have. But it was highly improbable that he would have found us." Trent returned from the bottom of the box with another silver ring in hand. "Think of it like this. Let's say you're trying to escape from some bad guy who's coming after you, and you enter a new room you've never seen before. Would you prefer this room to have three doors to go through, or ten?"
I thought about his riddle for a second, then responded, "It depends where they go."
Trent fastened the ring atop the teepee. "Let's say they all lead to random places, or let's say they're all closets that lead nowhere. The key is that more is better, because the more doors he has to check, the less likely he is to pick the correct one. Make sense?"
"So we opened up a bunch of doors and escaped through one at random?"
"Hence the gear 'TD', for 'Trap Door'."
I marveled at the insights, but not for long. Trent hopped back in the van and pulled a lever that I hadn't seen until now. The two metal arms raised the inner ring until it was perpendicular with the altar. Then Trent clicked one of three red buttons along the back wall, and I saw what looked like a large, glass eye suspended in a magnifying glass protruding from the wall, aligned with the center of both rings. A couple seconds later, the glass eye began to focus the energy which was being fed to it from the pneumatic tubes, and a blue pyramid of light projected from it into the first ring, then from the first ring into the second ring. All three pieces were aligned at slightly diminishing heights, so the cylinder of light beamed through the second ring, into the ground.
"Alright, time for the first trial."
I felt the nerves starting up in my stomach. Trent sensed this and hopped out of the truck. It was raining quite hard now, though it was still warm. Both Trent and I were soaked, but that hardly concerned us. He reached out and put his hand on my shoulder. "I know you're feeling scared." He said. "But trust me on this. You're going to do fine. Just keep in mind what we talked about. Stay a spectator. Okay?"
I looked into his blue eyes, which seemed especially gray in the dark. Still, Trent's voice was reassuring. All I had to do was trust him. Trust myself. Trust my dad. And it was all going to turn out right.
"I'm ready," I said.
Trent was still for a second, holding my eyes in his. Then he guided me behind the outer ring and into the cylinder of light.
"I should step into it now?" I asked, afraid I'd be called away immediately.
"It's not on yet, so don't worry. I still have to press another button."
I followed Trent's instructions and stood in the blue light which was centered on my chest. Then I watched as Trent ran into the back of the van and posted up next to the glass eye. "Ready?" He yelled out. It was hard to hear him over the rain, but I yelled back. "Ready!"
The next thing I saw was a blinding blue light beam from the van. I heard what sounded like a laser, then saw the cylinder oscillate, expanding and compressing. When the energy reached the second ring, I saw everything around me light up—it looked brighter than noon on a cloudless day. Then the oscillations made their way to me, and I was swallowed up whole.
***
When I came to, I was in the backseat of a car. I felt my butt rumbling. Everything was dim and quiet. And then I heard a woman's voice from in front of me.
"Mark, please, not with Lauren in the back."
The man, who I now identified as my father, pulled the cigarette away from his lips and blew the smoke at my mom. He eyed the back seat where I was sitting, using one of five markers that hadn't rolled off my lap to color a rabbit in my animal color book.
"The kid's fine." he said and took another drag.
"Mark," my mom repeated.
I saw my dad raise his hand in a rapid motion. "I said she's fine, Cheryl. Now check the map and make sure we're going the right away. I can't see shit with all this fog."
I took a moment to make sure I was really in the back seat. I patted myself. I clearly had weight. Then I tried touching the car. At first, my fingertips met a solid surface, but when I tried to press through, my hand slipped into the car. I quickly pulled my hand away as if I had reached into a fire.
That's when I heard the little three year old next to me start crying. I turned and saw that little-me had dropped another couple markers onto the ground and was struggling to reach them.
"Hey!" my dad shouted. "What did I say about crying?"
"Quit it, Mark. She just dropped her markers." said my mom; she turned to help me pick them up.
"What did you say to me?" Mark spat with a voice full of guile. He reached out and pushed her back into her seat. "Don't," he commanded. "She has to learn how to deal with life."
"Deal…" My mom started in disbelief. "Deal with life? Do you hear yourself? What's gotten into you?"
"Sometimes shit happens. It doesn't give her the right to cry. You helping her is just going to reinforce her behavior."
"Her behavior? What about your behavior? You're acting like a total dick."
I didn't even have a moment to react before my dad's hand was across my mom's face. I felt the slap more than I heard it, my own face seeming to swell with the force of the blow. I saw my mom cover her mouth and lean away. Then little-me began to cry even louder, which only challenged my dad to step up his own volume.
"Everyone needs to get a fucking grip before I crash this car." My dad shouted and took another drag. The scariest part was I couldn't tell if he was warning us or threatening us. I felt the sudden urge to do something. There was no way this was real. I was definitely in some fantasy concocted by the demon. He wanted to turn me against my dad. That was the only explanation for something like this. My dad was a good man, not… this.
As I contemplated what to do, I saw a small, golden light appear behind little-me's window. Apparently she saw it, too, because her cries hushed as she traced the wisp with her eyes. After a second, the wisp transformed into a bunny rabbit, reminiscent of the one she was coloring. The rabbit hopped alongside the window, then did a couple circles in place. I watched little me let out a playful laugh and reach toward the window.
"What's going on back there?" my dad asked with a scowl. Apparently the only sound more disturbing than cries were laughs.
I looked back to the front and saw my mom wiping blood from her lip. Her expression was miserable. "Leave her alone, Mark."
"I'll do whatever I damn well want to do, Cheryl. It's my kid back there."
My mom was quiet.
When I looked back toward the rabbit, it was no longer a rabbit but a person. Or at least it looked like a person. The figure radiated pure gold, and atop his head was what appeared to be a King's crown. I recalled Allison's experience of seeing the sun-like figure in her moment of distress. Was that what was happening here? Was this really all true?
"Hey!" My dad shouted, eyeing little-me from the rear-view mirror. "What are you reaching at?"
I looked and saw the golden figure extending his hand toward the window, and little me's hand was reaching back. "Mom, dad, it bright." little-me said.
"What's bright, honey?" my mom asked.
"Don't encourage her, Cheryl."
"Someone there!" little me shouted happily and dropped the rest of the markers and the coloring book onto the ground.
"Who's there?" asked my mom.
"Cheryl, I swear to God. Sit the fuck down."
Everything from that moment on happened so quickly I barely had any time to process it. My mom lifted out of her seat to either get little me's attention or help me pick up my coloring book. My dad responded by grabbing onto her throat, letting go of the steering wheel entirely. He threw her back against the car door, and her head hit the window so hard, the glass cracked. My dad had dropped his cigarette, and I could smell smoke coming from under his seat, but that didn't seem to bother him at all. He turned toward little-me at the same moment my three-year-old hand reached out and grabbed onto the golden figure, whose hand diffused through the window. When my dad turned, I got a whiff of the most awful smell that I wouldn't have been able to place had I not had that nightmare last night. He grabbed onto little-me's shoulder and tugged her away from the golden figure that was trying to pull her the other way. My dad's facade began to crack, and I could see those dark bugs crawling out from the pores in his arms, marching down toward little-me.
I reacted.
I grabbed onto my dad's arm and pulled him off little-me. I heard the sound of my shirt ripping as she was torn from his grip and pulled out of the car, diffusing through it like a ghost. My brief victory was immediately overturned as I saw what was now clearly the demon smiling at me, his wretched fingers curled around my forearm.
"Caught you," He sneered.
Then the whole world once again diffused into countless numbers of particles, only this time, instead of riding through it, I felt like I was falling through an elevator shaft with each floor darker than the last. The further I fell, the less I became aware of my surroundings, and the more I felt a deep sense of loneliness. It was as if I was the only person in the whole world: and the whole world was a prison designed entirely for me. This went on for so long, I began to forget who I was. Where I was. What was.
And then I landed.
***
Source Used:
Jung, Carl. Synchronicity. Translated by Sonu Shamdasani, Princeton University Press, 2010.

Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Content Warning: Domestic Abuse
***
We pulled off I-51 a little after midnight, stopping at a truck stop which was couched between the highway and a large forest.
We waited in the van for ten minutes or so. Trent had increased the sonar radius to its maximum of 30 miles a little over an hour ago. Somehow the red pings had kept up with us, holding a steady distance of around 20 miles. Considering we were averaging around 80 mph, and a coyote's top speed is only around 40 mph, we figured they had been enhanced in some way. Either that, or they shape-shifted into something faster. Regardless, now that we had stopped, we waited to see if the demon spawn would try and close the distance. Luckily, or unluckily, they didn't. They kept their 20 mile buffer, but we noticed they were beginning to spread out along the circumference of that boundary.
"We're close. They know that, so they're trying to trap us in." Trent said.
"Trying to?—more like they have."
We considered whether we should stay in the van and keep watch, but we figured that would do us little good. At their speed, they could be on us in ten minutes, which means we would need to stay up all night and keep tabs on their positions. Trent offered to stay up, of course, but I shut him down.
"The demon doesn't want to kill us now. You said it yourself. Plus, we need our rest. If they come, they come."
Trent didn't like it, but he acquiesced.
The truck stop had all the essentials: a gas station and mini mart with showers and an attached McDonald's, a large parking lot for truckers to idle and sleep, and even a section with lodging for those who wanted a more comfortable night's rest. I told Trent that he should take advantage of the showers, and after a little convincing, he agreed. While he was cleaning himself up, I patrolled the dingy, half-stocked aisles of "Daisy's Quick Mart". I probably would have been appalled at the quality of the store had I actually been paying any attention to it whatsoever. But I wasn't. I was thinking hard about what awaited me tomorrow.
During the drive, I had asked Trent why the demon would want us to return to the crash site. What did he mean that I would be 'confronting a dark entity in a place he couldn't help me'? He seemed hesitant to answer, but my little stunt outside the storage facility seemed to have sufficiently motivated him.
"When I said I've never done this before, I meant it." Trent started. "I've never done this exact thing before—meaning I've never projected someone into the past."
"So, I'm time traveling?" I asked.
"No—don't think of it like that." Trent paused, trying to come up with a good explanation. "It's more like I'm opening a window for you to look through: not a door. You're going to see the past, but you can't interact with the physicalities there. But that doesn't mean you can't interact with anything."
There was a space of silence as Trent tried to let me work out his meaning for myself. "I don't get it. Are you saying there's something I can interact with? Like what?" And then it hit me. "The demon. The demon can interact with me? Meaning what? It can kill me?"
"Meaning… I'm not exactly sure. You're going to be in a kind of psychic space. If it does damage, it won't be to your body. It'll be to your mind—or spirit. But I don't know what the limits of that damage could be. I just don't have those answers."
"If you've never done this, how do you know any of it will work?"
"That's an easy one." Trent answered. "Because it's been done to me."
There was silence.
"Look, if I know anything, I know my tech. Don't doubt that this will work. It's my job to make sure it does. I just need you to be in the right mental for this. Just because it knows your coming doesn't mean it automatically has the upper hand. It won't be able to see you unless you make contact with it first. In other words, you have to initiate contact. As long as you remain a spectator, you should be okay. Trust me. Just don't make contact."
I started pacing faster—fast enough to catch the attention of the overnight shift worker, a young man whose name I can't quite remember. I know it started with a "J". Jake, maybe? Anyway, he asked if I was alright, to which I responded in the affirmative. He left me alone for another couple passes, but when I almost ran into one of the shelves, he stood up and said, "Uh—I'm going to have to ask you to stop running around. I don't want you to hurt yourself."
I must have stared daggers at him, because he recoiled from my gaze. What's gotten into me? I thought. Then, steadying myself, I apologized. I looked around and grabbed the nearest edible looking piece of merchandise: a bag of Swedish Fish, and placed it down on the counter. "Just this, please."
The cashier rang me up. It was surprisingly cheap.
"Are you sure you're alright?" the young man asked. He was tall with brown hair. He seemed tired—maybe even more tired than me. But he also seemed kind.
I smiled as best I could and said, "No, I'm not. But there's not really anything you can do. Hell, there might not be anything I can do." I furrowed my eyebrows at my own response, realizing that imminent death may have broken my verbal filter.
On the other hand, the cashier did not seem surprised at all. "Ah, I see. It's one of those problems." He responded. "Well, hey, for what it's worth, you seem like one of the resilient ones. I think you'll be alright."
I only smiled and nodded at his mildly cryptic comment. Looking back, the whole interaction was a bit strange, but I had way too much mental clutter to recognize that in the moment. I took my Swedish Fish and walked through the anteroom which led to McDonald's. I found an open yellow booth that wasn't littered with crumpled straw sleeves and sat down, chomping mindlessly on my little red fish until Trent returned. When he arrived, he took my place, and I went to shower. After we were both clean and fed, we returned to the van. The pings were still pushed safely out of harm's way. But that didn't mean we were out of harm's way. Trent asked me if I wanted to sleep in the van, saying that "it'd be the safest place."
I thought it over. He was right, obviously. The van was not only outfitted with weapons I couldn't even begin to understand, but it was also our escape, and it would be just as difficult, if not more difficult to break into than the studio-style motel rooms with their wood doors and big windows. Still, if this was going to be my last night on earth, I wanted to sleep in a bed. A real bed. Trent understood and said he'd stay parked right outside my room for the night.
After purchasing a key from the night attendant, I moseyed over to the cement walkways which connected the twenty or so rooms. Mine was room #56, which I thought was odd since, like I said, there were only 20 rooms. I lugged in my tomato plushie and dad's old book and placed them on the queen mattress.
"I'll be right outside." Trent said after I collapsed onto the bed.
"Trent," I called out, stopping him half-way through the door.
"Yeah?"
All the blood in my body rushed up to my face as I realized my unfiltered mouth almost reflexively said the word "stay". I stared at Trent, my heart beating, my face hot. I considered asking him to sleep on the floor like my dad, but that would be childish and impolite. The alternative was to share my bed… Or I could take the floor.
"I'll just be right outside." Trent said before my mind processed a solution. "Come by if you need anything. I'll be up most of the night anyway."
"Okay," I replied in a faint voice.
Trent shut the door.
I sat atop the bedsheets and acquainted myself with my new living space. A feeling of regret closed over me as I considered that even sleeping on a carseat would have been better if it meant I didn't have to be alone. With a sigh, I turned on the bedside lamp and grabbed the book and stuffed tomato, using the tomato as a backrest as I slipped my legs under the covers and situated the book upright on my thighs. I cracked it open and was immediately blasted with a puff of dusty, old book scent. It was ripe at first, and I turned my head away to sneeze, but as I perused through the pages, the scent grew on me. It reminded me of the days growing up when I'd step into dad's study and read through one of the many volumes on cryptic topics which were at least two college degrees above my Lexile range.
I was only a couple minutes into browsing the collection of different scientific and philosophical works when I came across a page which contained highlighted text. This was unusual, as my dad would never mark up his books. He was a purist on that point. I rubbed my thumb over the yellow lines, and sure enough, it was highlighter.
The highlighted text was part of a small book by Carl Jung called "Synchronicity". There were a total of three pages that were marked, and they advanced like this:
Page 5:
The philosophical principle that underlies our conception of natural law is causality*. But if the connection between cause and effect turns out to be only statistically valid and relatively true, then the causal principle is only of relative use for explaining natural processes… That is as much to say that the connection of events may in certain circumstances be other than causal, and require another principle of explanation.*
Page 19:
…there are events which are related to one another experimentally, and in this case meaningfully*, without there being any possibility of proving that this relation is a causal one, since the "transmission" exhibits none of the known properties of energy…a situation which does not yet exist and will only occur in the future could transmit itself as a phenomenon of energy to a receiver in the present…Therefore, it cannot be a question of cause and effect, but of a falling together in time, a kind of simultaneity... "synchronicity"*
Page 22:
A young woman I was treating had, at a critical moment, a dream in which she was given a golden scarab. While she was telling me this dream I sat with my back to the closed window. Suddenly I heard a noise behind me, like a gentle tapping. I turned round and saw a flying insect knocking against the window pane from outside. I opened the window and caught the creature in the air as it flew in. It was the nearest analogy to a golden scarab that one finds in our latitudes, a scarabaeid beetle, the common rose-chafer… which contrary to its usual habits had evidently felt an urge to get into a dark room at this particular moment.
I flipped through the rest of the pages of the book. There was no more highlighted text, but there was a message on the last page which read:
Matthew 7:7-8
I'll meet you in the darkest place.
He also included his typical smiley face which had an ovular shape and three sprouts of hair which I now realized kind of resembled my tomato plushie. It was my dad's writing, of course. But why? And how? What did this mean?
The motel had a Bible stashed away in the nighstand drawer. I got it out and looked up the verses which read the following:
Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you: for every one that asketh receiveth; and he that seeketh findeth; and to him that knocketh it shall be opened.
I spent maybe an hour ruminating on all of this. The whole discourse on energy and causality and a "falling together in time" just seemed so right. It was clear that my dad definitely did know what I was going through, but for whatever reason, he made it seem like he was oblivious. Why had he hidden that from me? I felt like I was being pulled in two directions. On the one hand, my dad loved me enough to leave this note, maybe even knowing the exact moment I'd need it. But on the other hand, he had neglected my struggles throughout my entire childhood. He even lied at times. Was this really enough to make up for all of that?
And then there was the section about the future transmitting energy to the past. I read back through the whole paragraph and the original writer had meant it to say this as something that wasn't possible, but my dad's highlighting made it seem like he wanted to flip the meaning. The future does affect the past. I thought about where I was headed and wondered if I would soon discover that for myself.
Lastly, dad's message. The Bible verse reminded me of the first time I prayed; how I reached out to God and received peace as an answer to my prayer. Now I feel like I'm actively seeking… something, but I don't know yet what I'll find. And then there's knocking. At first that reminded me of the story with the beetle tapping on the window, but then I went back even deeper in my memory and dug out the monster tapping at my window, and the words my dad spoke to me in order to set my mind at ease: "you're a superhero. And you know what your greatest superpower is? Your greatest power is you get to tell the monsters what to do. Because the monsters are only as strong as the stories you tell about them…so if you're ever scared, honey, just dream up a better story."
I was crying into my stuffed tomato now. I felt like all the blinking pieces of my life had finally been pulled together into a completed puzzle. This was all by design. My entire life, filled with so much chaos and confusion, was actually preparing me for this moment. And my dad thought I had the tools and strength enough to get through it. I flipped through the book one more time, thinking maybe he had left some other hidden comment—some formula to defeat this demon and return home. But there was nothing. Only that one comment: "I'll meet you in the darkest place."
What's the darkest place, dad? Is that where I'm going? Are you saying you'll be there, too?
With those thoughts in mind, my eyes became heavy shutters which, with a slight pressure on the pulley, winded shut. My swimming thoughts and firework-like fears dissipated, and I returned to a precious childhood memory. It was after an evening soccer practice. Summer. Dad was driving me to Dairy Queen. I got a cherry-dipped twist cone. I was happy.
So, so happy.
***
I woke up to sunlight blaring through my windows. Shit, I overslept, was my immediate thought. I threw off my covers and opened the front door. A glance at the clock showed 1:13 PM. I shouldn't have even been allowed to stay checked in this long. Damn, am I gonna get double-billed for this?
I heard a rummaging sound around the corner of my motel room. It sounded like a squirrel was trying to find an afternoon snack in one of the garbage bins. I stepped outside. The sun was extremely bright, to the point where I had to squint and put my hand over my eyes to even see the ground in front of me. I was trying to walk toward the van, but somehow I ended up in front of the trash bins where the animal's tail was sticking out from a turned-over, silver garbage can. Its tail was wagging excitedly, and I remember thinking that it was much too large to be a squirrel.
The animal bent down as if biting onto something, and I heard the sound of its growl as it struggled to tug whatever it was free from the barrel. Inch by inch, the creature backed out of the canister, and more of its sharp, sticky hair was revealed. I heard something snap, then the creature leapt back and I saw what it was chomping on. My eyes widened in horror as the pink tube of a human intestine was pulled taut like the end of a tangled hose. Blood and entrails were spilling out of the human's opened gut. And then, behind the canine, I saw the person's face. His face was pale white, his eyes closed, and his hair was slicked back… It was Trent.
Before I could react, I heard footsteps approaching from behind. I whirled around and saw my dad. But—no, it wasn't him. It was someone wearing a paper-mache face mask that was painted to look like my dad. The forehead of the mask was already beginning to crack, white specks breaking off like sawdust. Through the cracks, I could see the figure's true form. I didn't know darkness had its own type of light, but that's the only way to describe it. It was as if malevolence itself was reified into a skin which was actually an amalgamation of millions of little, oozing parasites that leached into the nearby light. When it finally spoke, the demon's voice was a full octave lower than the old man's at the deli. And it had an earth-stilling gravitas.
"Today's the day!" He sang and reached into his pocket. His lips curled upward into a foxy smirk. "You have no idea how long I've waited for this day." He said and held up a razor blade. Half his facade had already fallen apart, and now I could see the bugs up close, writhing in what was either horror or ecstasy. And his scent… it was somehow more rank than the rabid coyote rummaging through the trash can with Trent's cut open body inside. The demon closed in on my position, and in one, decisive motion, he brought the blade close to his chin, then sliced it across my throat. "Wake up!" He screamed.
I jumped out of my bed and grabbed my throat, feeling the cold sting of its quick slice. Hyperventilating, I patted the area down, trying to hold the blood in, but when I removed my hands, I saw they were dry. It was only a dream, I thought. Gray light was only beginning to filter in through the drapes. I'm in my hotel room. I'm safe. I tried consoling, but the pragmatic mental massages weren't enough to hold the force of my knees buckling. I dropped onto the carpet and cried for a long while.
Outside, rain was beginning to fall.
***
By the time I met up with Trent, I had already composed myself and decided to keep my dad's message and the nightmare to myself. None of it seemed particularly productive from a logistical standpoint, anyway. And I wanted to focus on the mission.
We stopped by McDonald's and bought a couple cups of coffee. Trent asked if I wanted any food, and I declined. Black coffee seemed like the only thing my stomach could take at the present moment. I could tell Trent was hungry, but he tried playing it off (I guess to be respectful of me?) I told him to knock it off and get something to eat. I didn't need my Charon getting lightheaded and dropping the paddle before he finished rowing me to Hell. He didn't care much for my joke, but he ordered a couple Chicken McGriddles at the kiosk anyway.
There were maybe ten patrons spread throughout the restaurant. We sat down at the same booth from the prior night, this time across from one another. Trent spent the first ten minutes or so babbling about our fuel supply and the logistics of the trip from here on in. Practical stuff. I've come to realize that's how he deals with his stress. He talks it out in short, durable sentences. I mostly nodded and watched as what looked like a storm front closed in on the truck stop. The sky was overcast, and there were darker clouds in the distance. The rain was still only a patter, but a middle-aged man wearing a yellow bow tie on the wall-mounted TV confirmed that there would be heavier rain and thunderstorms very soon.
After the worker delivered Trent's food and he ate it in record time, I posed the one question that was still on my mind.
"How do I fight him?" I asked.
Trent finished a large gulp of his coffee, then looked at me. It was the first substantial thing I'd said all morning; Trent could tell something was off with me, but he figured there was no point in asking what it was. "By 'him', I assume you mean the demon?"
I nodded.
Trent licked his teeth clean. "You could try praying again."
"I'm serious," I responded.
"I'm serious, too. It worked before, didn't it?"
"You mean at my house?"
Trent nodded.
"I thought you weren't a religious man?"
"I'm not. Just a practical one. If praying worked before, maybe it'll work again."
"That's the best you've got? A maybe?"
"No, I've got a lot of shit better than a maybe." He answered. "It's just not accessible where you're going. Which is why I recommend not making contact on the first run."
"First run? So we're going to do this more than once?"
"At least," Trent answered. Then, seeing my expression, he continued. "What? You thought this was going to be a one-and-done? We have to conduct some research first. I did tell you this was new for me, right?"
Somehow Trent's response had set my mind at ease a little. I was going to have more than one chance. Of course, why wouldn't I be able to go back more than once?
"Why didn't you tell me this earlier? It would have gone a long way in easing my mind."
Trent lifted his hands in defense. "Sorry, I just thought that was a given. I mean, what we're doing is dangerous, just like I said, but it doesn't mean we aren't going to approach this as safely and scientifically as possible. However, there is a different problem with running multiple trials."
"The Organization?"
"That's right," Trent said like a proud parent. "Our little experiment will be like a giant spotlight, and the longer we wait around after it's on us, the greater the chance we'll have unwelcome company."
"So, safe but speedy."
"Safe but speedy. Exactly."
***
We fueled up and were back on the road a little after 8:00. From that point on, Trent and I were absolutely silent. I had the distinct feeling of being in the eye of a storm. The pings moved closer commensurate with our progress toward the crash site. The cloudfront continued its advance. And I noticed a haze beginning to descend onto the road ahead of us. It was fog.
We meandered further inland, the forest thickening around us until the rain almost stopped entirely—the leaves drinking it up before it fell onto our windshield. I kept my eyes on the radar. We were approaching the large yellow circle which indicated we had arrived. As we pulled closer, I began to feel things. Fear. Eeriness. Doubt. Then happiness. Hope. Love. Normally feelings like these had a clear source to picture, but these sensations came on in waves without any discernible reason. It was almost as if they were blinking into existence inside me.
"Here we go," Trent said like an airline pilot readying his crew for turbulence.
I still recall the exact moment we crossed the boundary into the area of higher energy. It was like something just "clicked" in my brain, and all of a sudden everything felt so much closer. The sound of the rain against the trees was almost right next to my ear. The trees in the distance would oscillate between their position a half-mile out, then suddenly seem five meters away. If I focused on something long enough, it began to radiate those same ethereal particles as when Trent released Ava's "phase lock". I checked to make sure the shifter wasn't set to "TD". Sure enough, it was still in drive.
"Can you see them?" Trent asked. "The shifts?"
"Yeah," I said in a dreamy voice. I felt like I was driving through a wonderland.
"It's the energy. I barely notice a difference. A bit of movement in the trees, but not much else. But I'm sure for you, it's a whole experience."
"What is this?" I raised my hand and caught some of the pixel dust dripping off the sun visor. It disappeared when it made contact with my hand.
"It's a kind of radiation. Everything emits it, just in different quantities. I'm still not exactly sure how it relates to the other realms, but I'm guessing it's a kind of primordial matter that helps connect our worlds."
"It's beautiful," I exclaimed. "I wish I could see the world like this all the time."
"Maybe you will," Trent whispered.
As we arrived at the crash site, I began to get glimpses of the past. My childhood dreams and memories were pushing their way out from my subconscious. I noticed an increased number of blinks, which were validated by Ava who reported the following: "Currently detecting 14,350 novel emergences and 2,777 controlled agents. Net anomalies: 2,777."
"That's a lot of blinks." I remarked. "Why doesn't Ava include them in the net anomalies?"
Trent turned his head so I could see his smirk. "Because blinks aren't anomalies."
I thought about it for a second. Blinks aren't anomalies. "I never thought about it that way."
"It's hard to think about it that way when 'normal' for most people means not picking up on a fundamental aspect of reality. But that doesn't make it any less real."
We continued past the epicenter of the yellow circle. "Are we not stopping?" I asked. "I think we already passed the crash site."
"It doesn't have to be exactly at the site," Trent said. "Plus, we don't want to stop on the side of the road and risk getting some civilian involved. There's a field about half a mile up ahead. I'm going to pull off the road and set up camp there.
The "field" that Trent was referring to was actually a large clearing that dipped down into several trench-like troughs which were filled to the brim with fog like witches cauldrons. Further on in the distance, I saw open fields, probably used for farming, and then a large hill where the trees once again reasserted themselves. We had pulled off the road and up a small incline where the trees had already been broken down, leaving a trail for us to drive through. When we surfaced at the edge of the clearing, Trent pulled us onto a flat bed of dried mud which was maybe thirty yards long.
"Here," he said with a sigh.
We both sat for a minute, looking around at the field. We had finally arrived. The rain was beginning to pick up, and the dark sky made it almost impossible to discern the time of day.
"You ready?" Trent asked.
I looked at him. Really looked at him. In his blue eyes. Was I ready? Did it even matter?
"Let's do this," I said.
***
This was the first time I was really able to inspect the back of Trent's van. He had talked up his gear a lot, and honestly, I was impressed. Not in the way that a scientist is impressed by another scientist's lab—I wasn't any kind of expert—but it still seemed remarkably well managed. Now that I was in a state where my vision had been enhanced, I could actually see the enigmatic particles circulating through the pneumatic tubes which were coiled like the pipes and valves of an elaborate wind instrument. The walls of the van, itself, were glistening white, making it easier to make out everything else inside. Along the floor were five overturned columns. Each column was dark and had a vibrating quality, as if they were charged with energy. Then atop the center three columns was a small altar which supported an apparatus with two skinny, metal arms holding a silver halo. At present, the arms were folded and the halo was suspended a few inches above the altar, faced-down. I thought maybe I'd see particles exuding from it, but instead it was emitting visible waves which bent and warped everything they touched.
"That thing is emitting a lot of energy." I remarked, gesturing toward the halo.
Trent stepped in between the columns and started pulling out the packages he had stuffed in there yesterday. "Just wait till' it's on."
Most of the packages contained only a single piece of equipment, and were otherwise packed with foam peanuts. We carefully removed each box and set them on the ground outside. I asked if the rain would damage any of the stuff inside, to which Trent only laughed and continued lugging out the boxes. When they were all out, Trent removed a box cutter from his pocket and went one-by-one opening them. There were eight pieces in total.
"What is it?" I asked as we fished the first item out.
"It's another apparatus, like the one inside. Except it'll mount on the ground out here."
I pulled out what looked like a metal tripod.
"Good, that'll go on the bottom."
"Where are we setting it up?"
"Over here," Trent said and stepped five paces away from the van. He coordinated himself up so he was centrally aligned with the inner ring, then stomped a few times. "This is the spot."
As we continued to work, I asked Trent about how the whole contraption works.
"Do you remember the first time we were in the van? When we had to escape from the semi-truck?" Trent asked and connected a secondary mounting apparatus on top of the tripod. It had four spider-like legs that made right angles and stuck into the ground.
"Of course," I said. "The 'phase lock'."
"Yeah," Trent said and gestured toward the metal stick that was in my hand. I handed it to him. "The phase lock is a seal on the level of energy that the van is allowed to release. It also controls its dispersion pattern so that it releases its energy in a steady wave. This allows Ava to scan for anomalies without causing us to become an anomaly." Trent stuck the plank into the neck of the tripod.
"So when you released the phase lock, we started emitting more energy."
"That's right." Trent confirmed. "Enough to create an alternate route through a different realm."
"So we blinked into a different realm, then back, just to avoid that truck?"
"That's right."
"But why couldn't we just move out of the way?"
"Because it had locked onto us. It was tracking our motion and adjusting its course based on the amount of energy we were emitting. So in order to escape, we had to radically skew our potential energy and then use it to shift."
"Couldn't he have just followed us?"
Trent connected four more pieces to the device which now looked like an elaborate teepee. He was fishing in the last box when he spoke again. "Yeah, he could have. But it was highly improbable that he would have found us." Trent returned from the bottom of the box with another silver ring in hand. "Think of it like this. Let's say you're trying to escape from some bad guy who's coming after you, and you enter a new room you've never seen before. Would you prefer this room to have three doors to go through, or ten?"
I thought about his riddle for a second, then responded, "It depends where they go."
Trent fastened the ring atop the teepee. "Let's say they all lead to random places, or let's say they're all closets that lead nowhere. The key is that more is better, because the more doors he has to check, the less likely he is to pick the correct one. Make sense?"
"So we opened up a bunch of doors and escaped through one at random?"
"Hence the gear 'TD', for 'Trap Door'."
I marveled at the insights, but not for long. Trent hopped back in the van and pulled a lever that I hadn't seen until now. The two metal arms raised the inner ring until it was perpendicular with the altar. Then Trent clicked one of three red buttons along the back wall, and I saw what looked like a large, glass eye suspended in a magnifying glass protruding from the wall, aligned with the center of both rings. A couple seconds later, the glass eye began to focus the energy which was being fed to it from the pneumatic tubes, and a blue pyramid of light projected from it into the first ring, then from the first ring into the second ring. All three pieces were aligned at slightly diminishing heights, so the cylinder of light beamed through the second ring, into the ground.
"Alright, time for the first trial."
I felt the nerves starting up in my stomach. Trent sensed this and hopped out of the truck. It was raining quite hard now, though it was still warm. Both Trent and I were soaked, but that hardly concerned us. He reached out and put his hand on my shoulder. "I know you're feeling scared." He said. "But trust me on this. You're going to do fine. Just keep in mind what we talked about. Stay a spectator. Okay?"
I looked into his blue eyes, which seemed especially gray in the dark. Still, Trent's voice was reassuring. All I had to do was trust him. Trust myself. Trust my dad. And it was all going to turn out right.
"I'm ready," I said.
Trent was still for a second, holding my eyes in his. Then he guided me behind the outer ring and into the cylinder of light.
"I should step into it now?" I asked, afraid I'd be called away immediately.
"It's not on yet, so don't worry. I still have to press another button."
I followed Trent's instructions and stood in the blue light which was centered on my chest. Then I watched as Trent ran into the back of the van and posted up next to the glass eye. "Ready?" He yelled out. It was hard to hear him over the rain, but I yelled back. "Ready!"
The next thing I saw was a blinding blue light beam from the van. I heard what sounded like a laser, then saw the cylinder oscillate, expanding and compressing. When the energy reached the second ring, I saw everything around me light up—it looked brighter than noon on a cloudless day. Then the oscillations made their way to me, and I was swallowed up whole.
***
When I came to, I was in the backseat of a car. I felt my butt rumbling. Everything was dim and quiet. And then I heard a woman's voice from in front of me.
"Mark, please, not with Lauren in the back."
The man, who I now identified as my father, pulled the cigarette away from his lips and blew the smoke at my mom. He eyed the back seat where I was sitting, using one of five markers that hadn't rolled off my lap to color a rabbit in my animal color book.
"The kid's fine." he said and took another drag.
"Mark," my mom repeated.
I saw my dad raise his hand in a rapid motion. "I said she's fine, Cheryl. Now check the map and make sure we're going the right away. I can't see shit with all this fog."
I took a moment to make sure I was really in the back seat. I patted myself. I clearly had weight. Then I tried touching the car. At first, my fingertips met a solid surface, but when I tried to press through, my hand slipped into the car. I quickly pulled my hand away as if I had reached into a fire.
That's when I heard the little three year old next to me start crying. I turned and saw that little-me had dropped another couple markers onto the ground and was struggling to reach them.
"Hey!" my dad shouted. "What did I say about crying?"
"Quit it, Mark. She just dropped her markers." said my mom; she turned to help me pick them up.
"What did you say to me?" Mark spat with a voice full of guile. He reached out and pushed her back into her seat. "Don't," he commanded. "She has to learn how to deal with life."
"Deal…" My mom started in disbelief. "Deal with life? Do you hear yourself? What's gotten into you?"
"Sometimes shit happens. It doesn't give her the right to cry. You helping her is just going to reinforce her behavior."
"Her behavior? What about your behavior? You're acting like a total dick."
I didn't even have a moment to react before my dad's hand was across my mom's face. I felt the slap more than I heard it, my own face seeming to swell with the force of the blow. I saw my mom cover her mouth and lean away. Then little-me began to cry even louder, which only challenged my dad to step up his own volume.
"Everyone needs to get a fucking grip before I crash this car." My dad shouted and took another drag. The scariest part was I couldn't tell if he was warning us or threatening us. I felt the sudden urge to do something. There was no way this was real. I was definitely in some fantasy concocted by the demon. He wanted to turn me against my dad. That was the only explanation for something like this. My dad was a good man, not… this.
As I contemplated what to do, I saw a small, golden light appear behind little-me's window. Apparently she saw it, too, because her cries hushed as she traced the wisp with her eyes. After a second, the wisp transformed into a bunny rabbit, reminiscent of the one she was coloring. The rabbit hopped alongside the window, then did a couple circles in place. I watched little me let out a playful laugh and reach toward the window.
"What's going on back there?" my dad asked with a scowl. Apparently the only sound more disturbing than cries were laughs.
I looked back to the front and saw my mom wiping blood from her lip. Her expression was miserable. "Leave her alone, Mark."
"I'll do whatever I damn well want to do, Cheryl. It's my kid back there."
My mom was quiet.
When I looked back toward the rabbit, it was no longer a rabbit but a person. Or at least it looked like a person. The figure radiated pure gold, and atop his head was what appeared to be a King's crown. I recalled Allison's experience of seeing the sun-like figure in her moment of distress. Was that what was happening here? Was this really all true?
"Hey!" My dad shouted, eyeing little-me from the rear-view mirror. "What are you reaching at?"
I looked and saw the golden figure extending his hand toward the window, and little me's hand was reaching back. "Mom, dad, it bright." little-me said.
"What's bright, honey?" my mom asked.
"Don't encourage her, Cheryl."
"Someone there!" little me shouted happily and dropped the rest of the markers and the coloring book onto the ground.
"Who's there?" asked my mom.
"Cheryl, I swear to God. Sit the fuck down."
Everything from that moment on happened so quickly I barely had any time to process it. My mom lifted out of her seat to either get little me's attention or help me pick up my coloring book. My dad responded by grabbing onto her throat, letting go of the steering wheel entirely. He threw her back against the car door, and her head hit the window so hard, the glass cracked. My dad had dropped his cigarette, and I could smell smoke coming from under his seat, but that didn't seem to bother him at all. He turned toward little-me at the same moment my three-year-old hand reached out and grabbed onto the golden figure, whose hand diffused through the window. When my dad turned, I got a whiff of the most awful smell that I wouldn't have been able to place had I not had that nightmare last night. He grabbed onto little-me's shoulder and tugged her away from the golden figure that was trying to pull her the other way. My dad's facade began to crack, and I could see those dark bugs crawling out from the pores in his arms, marching down toward little-me.
I reacted.
I grabbed onto my dad's arm and pulled him off little-me. I heard the sound of my shirt ripping as she was torn from his grip and pulled out of the car, diffusing through it like a ghost. My brief victory was immediately overturned as I saw what was now clearly the demon smiling at me, his wretched fingers curled around my forearm.
"Caught you," He sneered.
Then the whole world once again diffused into countless numbers of particles, only this time, instead of riding through it, I felt like I was falling through an elevator shaft with each floor darker than the last. The further I fell, the less I became aware of my surroundings, and the more I felt a deep sense of loneliness. It was as if I was the only person in the whole world: and the whole world was a prison designed entirely for me. This went on for so long, I began to forget who I was. Where I was. What was.
And then I landed.
***
Source Used:
Jung, Carl. Synchronicity. Translated by Sonu Shamdasani, Princeton University Press, 2010.

First / Previous
Jori stood at the edge of the alleyway, pressed up against the wall of The Wandering Fowl as she peered into the narrow street’s depths. Humming echoed from within; a soft, gentle tune that originated from the girl that stood on the snow covered path.
Her sister.
Aria’s attention was not focused towards the end of the street, but rather on the large furred beast in front of her. The auroc groaned gently as the girl moved her brush, patting the bovine as she was lost within the rhythm of her own tune. She reached up and scratched the beast behind its horn, provoking a satisfied bellow from the large animal as it nuzzled up against her. Aria’s giggle broke her melody, ringing out with the same innocent tone that a child’s laugh could only produce.
Just like any other girl.
Pain panged in Jori’s heart, a dull ache that still possessed enough bite to make her clutch at her chest. She looked towards the ground, eyes focusing on the sack that sat at her feet. Its cloth had been pushed to its limit, burgeoning from what had been stuffed within. Jori was content to lose herself for a moment, to forget about the growing hollowness in her stomach, but she was brought out of her trance with a tap on her arm.
“Jori?” Jon asked, her brother’s tone a mix of worry and apprehension.
“I… I’m…” she swallowed, “we could just leave it here. She doesn’t need us bothering her after all she’s been through.”
She started to move away from the alley, but her brother caught her shoulders.
“We’ve come this far Jori, and she leaves today,” he said, his tone heavy, “we can’t back away now.”
She frowned at him, “Brave words for the one making me go first.”
Jon scratched his head, “You’re the oldest, you gotta take charge in these things.”
Jori opened her mouth to respond, but froze as she saw the tremble in her brother’s fingers.
She sighed, “Ok, I’ll do it,” steeling herself, Jori slapped her cheeks, straightened her back, and spun around.
Only to jump at who she saw.
Though he was without armor or helmet, Helbram was easily recognizable in a small town like Redhaven. He was tall, taller than most in the village, but not so much that it would make him a giant, and there were farmers that possessed broader frames than him. However, none carried the same presence as the adventurer. There was an air to the man that threaded the line between gentle and imposing, as if he could switch between the two at the drop of a hat if needed.
As he loomed over the siblings, he trended towards the latter.
He may have been brought into the village in an unconscious state, but any sign of his incapacitation had vanished over the fortnight that it took for him and his party to recover, letting the full weight of his gaze settle over Jori as he looked the two over with unblinking eyes. His vision eventually settled on the bag next to Jori’s feet, and, after a moment of study, a smile broke from his emotionless guise.
He leaned against the wall and tilted his head towards the alley, “Go to her, we will give you some peace.”
Jori tilted her head, eventually realizing that the “we” Helbram mentioned included Leaf, who stood behind him closer to the tavern’s door. The half elven man looked at them with a frown, one that did not reach his eyes, and turned his gaze back to the street, saying nothing.
Jon prodded her in the back, which was enough to get her moving. She picked up the bag and walked past Helbram, marching into the alleyway with enough force behind her steps to echo through the narrowed path.
Echoes that made Aria turn towards her.
As the sisters’ eyes met, both froze. Jon stumbled into Jori’s back, but upon seeing Aria looking at them stopped in his tracks as well. Their sister’s eyebrows were raised in surprise, and the girl leaned against the auroc at her side for support. Her hands clutched at her brush, and the small shake to her fingers revealed the trepidation that the girl felt at the sight of her siblings. It was a sight that made Jori’s heart fall.
But she pressed on.
She walked closer, taking cautious steps towards her sister as she held the bag in front of her. Aria did not react to her approach, but Jori settled at stopping a stone’s throw away. She knelt down and opened the bag.
Revealing the bundles of clothing within.
“We didn’t know how much you needed…” Jori started, “and we didn’t know what your sizes were, so we gathered all we could.”
“We made sure there weren’t any holes in ‘em either,” Jon added in haste, “they may have been ours but they should last you a long while,” like Jori, his eyes were focused towards the ground and not the girl in front of them.
Their sister said nothing.
“We put some blankets in there too,” Jon said, “I know the cold doesn’t bother you but-”
Jori stomped on her brother’s foot. He winced, but upon realizing what he said kept his lips sealed. Cautiously, she looked up towards Aria, staring at the girl’s lips to avoid her eyes.
No reaction.
They stood in silence, the air between them growing more hollow by the moment. It was an emptiness that started to creep back into Jori’s heart, a sense of futility that told her to turn around and walk away. She clenched her hands into fists and pushed that instinct to the side, forcing herself to look her sister in the eye.
“I’m sorry,” she said, the words cracking as her vision blurred, “for abandoning you, for being scared of you. For being an awful, awful sister,” she blinked furiously to keep her tears from falling, “you deserved so much better, and I know there is nothing I can do to make up for what I have done.”
“What we have done,” Jon said, his voice a trembling mess, “I’m sorry too. Sorry for being such a poor brother, for thinking that what I had done was the only… the right thing to do,” he closed his eyes and took in a deep breath to steady himself, “It’s not our place to say this, but we hope wherever you go you find the happiness you deserve.”
Still, Aria did not respond.
Any bravery that the siblings held vanished at their sister’s silence. Jori’s gaze fell and, when nothing else was said, she spun around to leave, grabbing her brother’s arm.
“I can’t forgive you.”
Jori’s heart shattered to pieces.
The instinct to run swelled within her, to flee from the burden of guilt that crashed against her shoulders. The shake in her brother’s arm told her that Jon felt the same, but neither of them moved.
Whatever was to be said, they deserved.
“The words are there… but as I try to say them, I can only see you as you were before,” Aria said, “The ones who laughed and played outside my door as I could only look on. The ones who ignored me as they continued to be happy, to be loved. I can’t say it, not after all this time.”
Jori could hear the weeping in her sister’s voice, but neither her nor Jon could bring themselves to look back as their own tears streamed down their faces.
“But I can say thank you,” Aria’s footsteps drew closer, “for the clothes… and for trying to save me.”
It was the sibling’s time to be silent.
“We may never see each other again, but I hope the best for the both of you.”
An impulse washed over Jori then, an urge to turn around and embrace her sister, to cry into the girl’s shoulders and let her do the same, to be like siblings should have been.
But it was too late for that.
“We hope the best for you too,” Jori said, unable to face her sister. She went to say more, but the words caught at her throat.
Unable to take anymore, Jori ran, letting the desire to escape take over. She hurried past the Helbram and Leaf into the street, her steps carrying her far enough into Redhaven that they were out of sight. Jon was at her side, and when their sprint could carry them no further they collapsed to the ground, chests heaving as their sobs hindered their ability to catch their breath.
Tears flowed from their eyes, unending as they traced down their cheeks, splashing onto the street as they continued to cry. They ignored the stares of the townsfolk that walked by, too lost in the tide of emotions that carried them this far. When the tears finally slowed, Jori could still feel the sorrow within her chest, the pain that dug into her heart, unable to leave.
But it had faded.
Their sister’s words did not relieve Jori of the burden of guilt, but it had reduced it to a dull ache. One that she could live with.
Must live with.
Jori wiped the tears from her eyes and stood up. She held a hand out to Jon and, after her brother wiped his face, he took it with a firm grip as she helped him up. They met each other’s gaze and shared a nod. They had to continue on, to be the best that they could be, for their sake.
For their sister’s wishes.
___
Aria watched her siblings disappear from the alley’s exit. When they were gone, the grip on her brush relaxed and she let go of the breath that she was holding. She looked towards the bag in front of her and knelt down. Curiosity fueled her hands then, placing the brush down and pulling a piece of clothing from the parcel. It revealed itself to be a shirt as it unfolded, the size only a tad larger than what she needed. It was weaved from a white cloth, and in every way was unremarkable.
Yet the sight of it made her happy.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of oncoming footsteps. Helbram and Leaf approached, and while the usual frown-faced man looked at her with some concern, his companion was more relaxed, yet somehow focused at the same time.
Helbram knelt down in front of her, “Are you alright?”
Aria nodded, “I don’t know if it was the right thing to say.”
He put his hand on her head, “Yours is a situation that is a bit more complicated than right or wrong,” he admitted, “and in such times it is better to instead ask this: did you do all that you needed to do?”
She looked down, thinking for a moment, but moved her gaze up to match his, “Yes, I did.”
Helbram smiled at her, “Then that, for now, is all that matters,” he ruffled her hair and stood up, taking the bag into his hand. He held it out for her to put the shirt back into it and held it out to Leaf, who took it as he walked over to Bessie.
“I’ll get her sorted out,” Leaf said, “now go do what you have to do.”
Helbram let out a breath and looked to Aria, “Are you ready?”
She nodded, one that he returned.
He turned towards the tavern’s side door, but waited for Aria to walk ahead of him before he followed. As they walked through The Wandering Fowl’s kitchen, she caught sight of both Elly and Jahora packing various foodstuffs. The taller woman bit into an apple absentmindedly as she peered into the tavern’s icebox. As she noticed them walk by, her ears perked up, and she met Helbram’s eyes with a knowing gaze. Jahora caught sight of them next, saying nothing but flashing Aria an encouraging smile as they walked through the door and into the tavern’s main hall.
She walked up the building’s stairs and down the hallway of rooms that composed its second floor. As her hand reached towards the door that lay at the end of the path, Helbram placed his hand on the doorknob in her stead.
“Are you certain of this?” he asked, his tone measured, but unable to hide the concern beneath.
The weight of the question gave rise to the doubt that sat beneath her determination. Given what had transpired… it would not be wrong of her to leave the door closed, to leave what lay beyond it behind her.
But her heart said otherwise.
Steeling herself, Aria straightened her back and took in a deep breath, “Yes.”
Helbram patted her shoulder, “Then do what you must.”
He opened the door and followed after her as she walked in, facing the two people at the opposite side of the room.
Cora and Erik.
The two Shade’s were still bound, their hands restricted behind their back with Sealing Cuffs while rope tied their legs together. In all practical ways they could do no harm, but that did not stop the flutter that Aria could feel stirring in her chest. Whilst Erik maintained a neutral expression upon noticing Aria, Cora’s own dejected guise shifted to surprise as her eyes fell upon her. Surprise that gave way to something else, though Aria could not tell what. The girl stepped further into the room, and while Helbram did not loom over her, he shifted his position so that she was never out of his reach.
Aria’s lips trembled as she searched for the words to speak, her breath shaking as they refused to form. She squeezed her hands in frustration, the fluttering in her chest now a rapid pounding as she could not form a sentence no matter how hard she tried. She’d ruminated over it far before this moment, yet the sight of the couple, their silence as they waited for her to speak, pushed all those thoughts from her mind. In its place she could only remember Erik and Cora as they were. That kindly man who fed her, who treated her as something more than a monster to be ignored, to be shunned. The bright woman who sat her in her lap and brushed her hair, giving her the warmth of a mother she never had.
She knew that is not who they were, that it was an act meant to make her like them, to feel indebted to them.
But it felt real, the happiness that it gave her was real, and it was that which stopped the words at her throat. She looked to the floor, unable to look at the two any longer, but took in a deep breath and closed her eyes.
“Thank you,” she said, “for taking care of me.”
It was a selfish thing to say, something that she could blurt out without damaging the fragile integrity of memories based on falsehood. She’d meant to confront them, but could only find the words to run away.
“Aria.”
She looked up, heart stopping as her eyes met with Cora’s. Gone was the woman’s previous madness, that twisted look in her eyes as she called her a name that was not hers. In its place was the same Cora that she always knew. The one who always wore a smile, who always looked at her with warmth. It was a falsehood, she knew that.
Yet it brought her comfort all the same.
“It is we who should say thank you,” she said, “for giving us a warmth that we’d not felt in so, so long. And it is we who should say sorry, for trying to take that warmth for ourselves.”
“Live your life, Aria.”
The girl’s gaze drifted to Erik, and she could see that man that she’d met in the alley, that man who made her feel like she belonged, and the memories of that moment brought tears to her eyes.
“Walk the path you want to walk, and let none steer you from it,” he said, “it is not our place to say such things, I know, but we should say it nonetheless.”
“May the Matron keep your path clear, your steps steady,” Cora said
Aria bit her lip, and she felt the impulse to walk up and embrace them, but she stopped herself. Even if they were sincere, she could not forget who they truly were, no matter how much her heart wished to. Still, the desire grew, and the tears started to flow down her face. She smiled at the couple and gave a firm nod, then turned and made for the door.
“You take care of her, you hear me?” Cora said to Helbram.
Aria felt his hand on her shoulder as she stopped at the door. He opened it and gently pushed her forward.
“Of that, you should have no doubt.”
___
Ren stood outside The Wandering Fowl, taking in the brisk Winter air as he stood in the street without a coat. The townsfolk looked at him as if he was mad, but that was no different than the look they’d given all of them upon their return. They did give him a wider berth today, but that was due to the wagon that had been moved to the street. A wheeless construct, the vehicle was held aloft by the crystal located in its undercarriage, one that radiated a green light as Aether coursed through it and the rest of the wagon. Various crates and bags were stuffed under its roof, and it was in the process of being loaded even further as Helbram’s party shoved various bags and foodstuffs into its bed. Had he not known that the magitek design meant that their auroc would feel little of the burden, he would have been inclined to feel pity for the beast.
Part of him still did as Elly stuffed a burgeoning sack of books into an already crowded space.
“Do you think you have enough?” he mused towards the group, “one would think you meant to start a village with all you’re taking.”
Helbram, who just walked out of the wagon’s bed, laughed. He walked up to the Cleric while dusting his hands.
“Winter will prove to be a harsh mistress this year,” he said, “and while I have every faith that our hunter is up to the task of keeping us provided, I’d rather not place such a burden upon him.”
“That, and we’d rather not taste bitter herbs for a spell,” Jahora said as she adjusted Aria’s coat, “a month away from such flavors is much too short.”
Leaf’s head poked from behind the wagon, “Oi, if the plants bite back then it's good for ya, don’t blame me for having the wisdom to recognize it.”
“Oh we have the wisdom,” Elly said as she joined Helbram at his side, “we just choose to embrace comfort in its stead.”
“Bunch of soft bellied louts, the lot of ya.”
Aria giggled as Leaf’s grumbles faded into the background. She took Jahora’s hand as the Mage guided her towards Ren. The smaller woman was all smiles when she looked at the girl, but as her eyes cut to the side wariness flashed through her features.
Leon sat on the stairs leading into the tavern. His hands were still bound, and rather than meeting anyone’s eyes he kept his eyes to the ground. Ren frowned as he looked at his companion, partially regretting his decision to push Leon to at least see the party off. He encouraged it anyways; the alternative just didn’t feel right.
He just hoped Leon felt the same.
As Leaf finished adjusting Bessie’s harness, he jogged up and joined with his companions, his caution towards Ren’s companion less concealed than the others as he glared in the Black Cloak’s direction.
“So where are you off to, after all this?” Helbram asked Ren.
“As we originally planned,” the Cleric said, “we make for Blade’s Rest, meeting up with a larger cohort before we travel back to headquarters,” he scratched his head, “Winter will prolong our travels a fair bit, but we’d best be moving as quick as possible now that we’ve fully recovered.”
“Of that, we are of similar minds,” Elly said.
“What of you? If you don’t mind me asking.”
“Whitebridge,” Helbram said, “it was where we were heading before all this, and we see no reason not to continue on.”
Ren rubbed his chin, “Whitebridge eh? That is quite the journey…” he looked to Aria. The girl was not cautious around him, he could sense that she was on edge. No doubt due to Leon’s presence. And given his companions actions… she had every right to be.
As he looked upon her, however, he thought towards Erik and Cora, about how they knew that she would be in such a remote village like Redhaven. As he did, he removed the symbol of Velendel from his neck and placed his hand over it. The matching eye on his forehead glowed with a golden light as he made an effort of will, casting a spell over the amulet that left it glowing for a moment before the light faded away. He walked over to Jahora and knelt down in front of the Mage, presenting the amulet to her. She looked at him in confusion, and did not reach for the necklace.
“I am not certain, but I believe someone may possess the means to find Aria from afar. That is the only way I can think of to explain why Erik and Cora decided to settle here of all places.”
“A Scryer, perhaps?” Elly inquired, “Though typically their reach is fairly limited.”
“For the average one, yes,” Ren admitted, “but were the Scryer a Shade… then it may very well be possible,” he looked back at Jahora, “concealment magics are not my speciality, but with enough of Velendel’s grace I do believe that wearing this will keep Aria from their watchful gaze, though the enchantment will need refreshing often. And I do recognize it is suspicious of me to provide this under such pretenses, but I ask that you trust me in this.”
Jahora looked into his eyes and, after a moment, took the amulet from him. She directed her attention to Aria, who had her eyes narrowed in clear effort to keep up with the conversation.
“Do you want to wear this?” she asked the girl, holding the necklace out to her.
Aria reached out and touched the amulet, brow furrowed as she ran her fingers along its various ridges, “It feels… warm.”
The girl nodded and let Jahora put it on her. When the Mage did, Aria looked at it again.
“It’s a bit ugly though,” she said before slipping it under her coat.
Ren snorted, “Of that, we are in agreement.”
“Are you certain of this?” Helbram asked, “I have little knowledge in the ways of divine magic, but a Cleric without their Symbol strikes me as something of a hindrance.”
“We’d hardly be that forminable if a bit of jewelry was our lifeline,” Ren said as he stood up, “Please, pay it no mind. Besides, this is the perfect opportunity to get a new one, perhaps one not so garish,” he winked at Aria, and she smiled at him.
“Well, thank you, again,” Helbram said as he held out his hand, “when we next meet, the round is on me.”
Ren smiled and took the man’s hand, “Multiple rounds, perhaps? I’ve a feeling my superiors will be placing me in a drinking mood soon enough.”
Helbram chuckled, “That can be arranged.”
As they let go of one another Ren clapped his hands, “I’ve delayed you long enough, you’d best be off before Spring sets in.”
The party smiled at him and made their way to the wagon.
All except Helbram.
The man marched towards Leon, who’s posture remained unchanging at his approach. Even if the Black Cloak didn’t look at him, Helbram held his hand out.
“Farewell Leon,” he said, “I hope if we cross swords again it will be as we did the first time, not the last.”
Leon didn’t look up.
Helbram sighed, but rather than drop his hand, he gave Leon a quick pat on the shoulder and went to join his party. Before long their wagon disappeared from Ren’s sight, and his companion still did not move.
The Cleric took a seat next to Leon, “It is going to be quite the burden if I have to transport three bound people,” he said.
The Black Cloak remained silent.
Frowning, Ren made to move back into the tavern, but stopped as Leon finally spoke.
“She seemed so… normal.”
“Aria? Yes, the seal is broken but she appears to be in control of herself,” Ren mused, “an interesting development for one as young as her, but it is not unheard of to gain control of one’s Shade.”
“It was out of control Ren, a power that I had not seen since… since…” he fell silent.
“And yet, there she was, hale and hearty as any child should be.”
“I know… I know,” there was a growing frustration in Leon’s voice, “And it has made me think. Had I called out enough, urged him enough… would he still be here today?”
Ren heart ached for his friend, “We can’t know that.”
“And yet, now we have an idea,” Leon said, “proof that such a thing is possible,” tears dropped from Leon’s face as he looked up, “I was so certain he was lost Ren, and the look he gave me told me he thought so as well, but there she was, in the same position, the same abyss of hopelessness, and she came back.”
There was nothing Ren could say to that.
“How many? How many have I killed thinking that they were too far gone? Thinking that I was putting an end… stopping tragedy before it could happen?” He buried his head in his hands, “I’m sorry Astraeus, I’m so sorry…”
Ren walked in front of his companion and pulled him up, “Look at me Leon.”
When he refused to do so, the Cleric forced his gaze up. The Black Cloak’s eyes were red, and the despair beneath them seemed bottomless.
“I understand your grief,” he said, “And I know that you need time to process all of it, but what you can’t let it do is drag you under. Doing so will not help anyone. It will not honor your brother’s memory.”
Leon closed his eyes.
“Let us make our way back to headquarters, and when we are in more stable conditions, we can work through all of this. We can’t afford to fall apart now, do you understand?”
His companion’s breaths slowed as he controlled himself. When his eyes finally opened, a measure of control had returned. Grief still sat behind them, but for now it did not overwhelm Leon, and that was all Ren could ask for at the moment.
“I understand,” the Black Cloak said.
“Good,” Ren unbound the man’s arms, “and when we get back, know that you will always have my aid. We’ll get through this, of that I have no doubt.”
Leon clasped his arm, “Thank you, truly.”
Ren returned the gesture, “What are friends for?”
___
Helbram yawned as he stretched, leaning back on the wagon’s driver seat.
“Don’t you start with that,” Leaf fussed, “We’ve been on the road for barely an hour.”
“I am afraid I must,” Helbram objected in an overly dramatic tone, “my injuries have left me weakened and unable to handle the wear and tear of the road.”
Leaf pressed his lips thin and rolled his eyes.
Elly snorted from within the wagon, “Perhaps you need a distraction? I could teach you how to use a needle so you may be of some use.”
Helbram looked back at her. The Weaver held the sleeve of a pair of pants in her hands, her hands moving with practiced precision as the needle in her fingers glided in and out of the cloth.
“Nonsense,” Helbram said, “I would only slow you down.”
“Perhaps,” she admitted, “but the company would be appreciated.”
She smiled as they both looked at Aria and Jahora. They both leaned against each other as they slept, a contentment on both their faces that was enough to banish any thoughts of waking them from their nap.
“Another time, perhaps,” Helbram said in a quieter tone.
“I’ll hold you to that.”
He flashed her a smile before turning back in his seat, noting Leaf’s now serious expression.
“Everything alright?”
His companion scratched his head, “Honestly I’m just feeling a bit out of my depth. I don’t know how to raise a child, nor one that happens to be a font of magic,” he sighed, “I’m just trying to process it all.”
Hebram rubbed his chin, “It is quite a lot to take in, I admit, but it is not as if you are doing this alone,” he snorted, “I know Jahora would raise quite the objection were you solely in charge of her care.”
Leaf laughed, “That she would… but still, it’s just… overwhelming.”
“It is, and the how of it all escapes me even now, but I know it is something that we must do.”
“Together,” Elly added.
Helbram nodded, “Together.”
Leaf shook his headband and chuckled, “Well now I just feel foolish. Onwards then?”
Helbram pointed down the road.
“Onwards.”

Hedge Knight Arc Four: The Cursed Child
End.
First / Previous
Author's Note: And there we have it, the end of another arc. Still not gonna get over how I said this was going to be a shorter one and it somehow matched the last arc in length. Overall I'm happy with how this one turned out. It's smaller stakes than the last arc, but I think it was a good exploration of the characters, especially Jahora, Leon, and Aria, and that's kind of the reason I try and keep things small scale like this. I'm finding myself enjoying the character dynamics more and more as I write this story, and I feel like its important to explore these interactions fully to really build investment not only with the party, but any events that may happen to them. To that end I toned back the action a bit, aside from the duel, so we can have a full explosive finish. One that admittedly mentally fried me as I tried to make sense of all that as happening, but I think I prefer that over having action for action's sake.
But, the story will continue! Lots of threads were thrown out here and I did try to wrap up some of the immediate ones, but there are also plenty that could possibly be explored down the line. The focus will remain on Helbram and his party of course, but I do like giving the sense that there is something else going on within the world beyond what the party is seeing.
Let me know what you thought of this arc! Did you prefer this over the last arc and is there anything that stands out in this arc that you either liked/disliked. I'm always trying to improve and your feedback goes a really long way to making sure this is the best content I can make for you.
Till next time everyone, have a good one!
If you wish to read ahead and gain access to the audiobook version of this story, consider supporting me on Patreon (https://patreon.com/criticalscribe). If you want to leave a donation, here is my Ko-fi (https://ko-fi.com/criticalscribe).

I recently just submitted my application for a NICOP, but I forgot to sign my finger print data acquisition form. They're still processing my application but I'm afraid they're going to reject it and I really don't want to go through that entire process again. Does anyone know if there's anything I can do or who I can contact to send them the signed form?

Last year, when my ten year prison "stint" was finally up, and I re-entered society, I encountered some... obstacles.
Obstacles like.. Lack of upward mobility. Prejudices and stigmas. Wages and earnings lower than the general population. Undesirable and oftentimes dangerous jobs. And lack of protection from wrongful termination.
Not to mention, an already tough job market, and the fact that my parole required that I maintain steady employment, or face re-incarceration.
Which is why, when I finally got a job offer, after six months of aggressive job hunting, I jumped at the opportunity, giving absolutely no fucks as to how I was actually making ends meet.
"Ever operate a freight elevator before?" Mr. Winfred, the manager of "The Cornelius" and my new boss, asked me my first day on the job.
"No, sir." I replied honestly, as I ran my fingers along the doors of the antiquated contraption, the only remaining evidence of the recently renovated luxury building's ancient past.
"Normally these old things aren't used for passengers, but the building's pretentious designers thought it might add a certain charm to its otherwise sterile decor. Which is where you come in." He continued, as I heard him slide open the freight elevator's outside doors...
SLAM!
...Followed by its scissored metal inside doors.
SCREEEECH!
I heard Mr. Winfred step inside and, using my cane, scanned the interior of the rather large elevator, which must have been eight feet by eight feet, and followed him in.
Instantly, my nose was hit with an overpowering, musty scent, like the kind you'd smell in a basement, combined with your grandmother's attic.
He then closed both doors behind us.
SLAM!
SCREEEECH!
"Now this here." Mr Winfred added, taking my hand and placing it on the handle of a lever, "Is how you move the elevator from floor to floor. Up for up. Down for down. You'll hear a click when you reach each floor, which will be helpful for someone like yourself." He said, clearly calling attention to the fact that I'm blind.
Someone like myself? I scoffed internally. You ignorant, entitled piece of shit.
Truth is, I've always had a bit of a short fuse. Which I guess, looking back on it, is what got me into prison in the first place.
But in my ten years of incarceration, I was given tools to combat my anger issues. Tools like reminding myself that it was nothing new. Assholes like him were always dropping unintentional microaggressions. It had been something I'd grown used to, and given my probation, wasn't a battle worth fighting.
"Yes sir." I replied through my teeth, as I begrudgingly swallowed my pride.
"Now, why don't you spend today practicing. Our first residents don't move in until tomorrow."
—
In just a matter of a week or so, as the doors of "The Cornelius" opened to its new tenants, I learned pretty much everything I needed to know about the job.
Said tenants were rich. Very rich. And most of them acted as such. Entitled. Obnoxious. Holier than thou. Especially given my own social class. But a few of them weren't so bad, and tipped well.
Mr. Winfred's assistant, Jane, was a lovely human being. Patient, kind, thoughtful, understanding. Especially when compared to both the building's uptight residents, and Mr. Winfred himself. It had been years since I had dated, and the very thought of meeting a partner stressed me out to no end, but if I was to find someone, I hoped she'd be like Jane.
The elevator didn't open on the basement level. As I'd learned countless times, it was possible to go there, but the doors simply wouldn't open.
The old freight itself was finicky as fuck. Stop the lever one second too early, or one second too late, and when the doors open, you're halfway between a floor. But eventually, I got used to it, to the point where most of the building's tenants assumed the role of freight operator had always been my job. And when you're good at your service job, and do it with a smile on your face, the tips start flowing.
And so, all was well for the first couple weeks on the job...
...A seemingly refreshing return to normalcy, after ten long years...
...Until...
...The disappearances started happening.
—
I was just arriving to work one day, when I heard about the first disappearance.
"Have you seen - I mean, have you been in contact with Elizabeth Davis? From room 401?" Mr. Winfred asked, after correcting himself. Something he did often, which continued to annoy me.
"Um." I replied, unsure of where he was going with the question. "Not since yesterday. She got back from work, and I brought her up to the fourth floor. But come to think of it, I don't think she rode the elevator down this morning. Like she usually does."
"Interesting." My boss replied, before continuing. "She disappeared yesterday."
"Disappeared?" I asked.
"Yeah, husband said she never came home last night."
"Hmm. Well I know for certain that I brought her to the fourth floor. Did you check the hallway surveillance footage?"
"Not yet. Unfortunately the building inspector's in today, and I won't have time until tomorrow. Let's hope she just went somewhere, or got lost. In the meantime, keep an eye out - I mean - just, let me know if you hear of anything suspicious."
"Yes sir," I replied, once again resisting the urge to snap on him, before heading for the elevator, where I started the day's shift.
SLAM!
SCREEEECH!
That day, I did my best to do as Mr. Winfred had asked, and listened carefully for any signs of mischief.
But the day went on, business as usual and by the end of the day, I hadn't noticed anything out of the ordinary...
...Except... The only thing of note was a difference in Mr. Lawrence's demeanor. The tenant of room 805, he was a salesman, and acted like one. When I say the man could talk, the man could talk. To a point where whenever he was a passenger in the old freight elevator, despite the long ride from floor one to floor eight, I'd rarely have a chance to get a word in.
But this time... was different. This time, Mr. Lawrence entered the elevator chatting away, just as he always did. But about halfway up, he just... stopped talking. And the thing about my job is, if someone chooses to talk or not talk, it's their decision, and none of my business. So I left him alone, and when we reached the eighth floor, I simply said goodnight. To which, he didn't reply.
Must be going through something. I thought to myself, having been unable to truly get a sense of his composure, without being able to see him, before closing the double doors and heading off to help the next passenger.
SLAM!
SCREEEECH!
—
Later that night, Mr. Winfred called me into his office, and asked me to take a seat beside his assistant, Jane.
"Mr. Owens. Are you aware of the situation that's going on in the building?" He asked, in an interrogating tone.
"Um... yes, you told me about it yesterday. The disappearance, sir." I replied.
"Disappearances now. Plural." He said sternly.
"But... who else?" I asked.
"Mr. Lawrence."
"What happened to him?"
"Well, to be honest, I was hoping you could tell me. Cause much like Ms.Davis, the last place he was seen was going into your elevator."
"What about the cameras in the hallways?"
"I'm afraid that after reviewing the tapes, after stepping into your elevator, neither Ms. Davis, or Mr Lawrence, ever stepped out."
"But that's... not... possible."
"Mr. Owens. I'm going to give you an opportunity. Is there anything you want to tell me? I know you have a sordid past."
"Mr. Winfred!" Jane interjected, clearly offended by his words, and implications.
"Quiet, Jane." He scolded, before continuing. "Answer the question, Mr. Owens."
I didn't know what to say. I was so shocked, so flustered, by what he was implying, that I simply froze.
"Mr. Owens!" He screamed.
"I... I... don't know!" I cried out, as I heard Jane squirm in her seat. "I'm telling you, the last time I heard from either of them, I took them up to their floors. But I'm-"
"You're what! Blind?"
"Well, yes sir. I don't see what goes on inside the elevator. I just let them on and off."
"Mr. Owens. If they got on your elevator, and never got off, where could they possibly have gone?"
"I... don't... know." I replied, at this point, wanting to grab him by force, demand that he never speak to me that way again, and scream out my innocence. But my next parole appointment was the following week, so once again, all I could do was just bite my tongue.
Mr. Winfred paused for a moment, took a deep breath, and regained his composure.
"Mr. Owens, I could go to the police now. And that would be very bad for someone like you."
Fuck. He's right. I thought to myself, realizing, that if he went to the police, and I was even remotely suspected of what was going on in the building, it was back to prison for me.
"But lucky for you," He continued, "There are things going on in the building that I wouldn't want to bring unwanted attention to. And for that reason, I have decided not to go to the police... yet. But consider this a warning. And know, that I have a repairman coming first thing tomorrow morning to install a security camera inside the freight elevator, so I can see what exactly it is that you're doing in there."
I had know idea how to react to Mr. Winfred's continued accusations. So I simply remained silent.
"Now get out of here and go home! We'll reconvene on this tomorrow." He said dismissively, before Jane walked me out of the room, down the hall, and outside the building, where I planned to return home for the night.
—
Fifteen minutes later, we were at a bar down the street, where Jane apparently frequented.
"But where could they possibly have gone?" I asked her, my hands trembling at both the thought of people disappearing in the elevator, and that it was happening under my watch.
"Thing is," Jane said, as she finished her beer. "There's something you should know about the building."
""The Cornelius"?"
"No, from before it was called that. It used to be a factory of some kind."
"Is that what Mr. Winfred was talking about when he said that there were things going on in the building? That he didn't want to bring unwanted attention to?"
"Well, yes and no. Yes, in a sense, that Mr. Winfred cut some corners, and rather than fully renovate the entire warehouse, he simply walled off entire sections of the old structure. Like the basement."
"And no?"
"No, in a sense, that even Mr. Winfred doesn't know what's really going on in the elevator. Sure, it'd be easy to pin it on you, especially with your criminal record - no offense... but even he knows that it's probably something... else."
"Something else?"
"See, that's where things get hazy. Because no one knows what exactly went on at the factory, before it became "The Cornelius." But rumors have it... it was laboratory of some kind, and some fucked up shit went on inside there."
"Like what?"
"That, my friend. I don't know. But what I do know is... I better be getting to bed."
"Fair enough. Well, thanks for the drink, and the support." I said with a smile, as we made our way out of the bar.
"Yeah, don't let Mr. Winfred get to you. And try not to worry too much."
—
Contrary to Jane's suggestion, that night I worried... a lot. About the disappearances, what might be causing them, whatever may have gone on in the factory, and most importantly, about everything getting pinned on me.
I couldn't fall asleep, tossing and turning in bed as my mind raced. And each time I finally passed out, I'd wake up in a panic attack, my heart pounding, short of breath and in a cold sweat.
But it didn't stop there. The uncomfortable feeling of terror and fear, accompanied by the vibrating sensation of adrenaline pumping through my body, remained well into the next morning, when I stepped back into the elevator, terrified by what might be going on inside there.
Please don't leave me alone in this fucking thing. I thought to myself.
And within a matter of minutes, my prayers were answered.
"How goes it?" The surveillance installation worker called out, his cheery disposition contrary to mine.
"Um... not too bad." I replied, lying through my teeth, as he stepped inside.
But after a minute or two of sharing the elevator with him, my fears lessened and my body relaxed, comforted by the positive conversation, and the metallic, clinking sounds of the installation.
Everything's okay. The doors are open. And he's talking. I thought to myself.
But eventually, the man finished installing the camera, and began wrapping up the job.
"Well, that's it! Camera's all installed and running now." He called out. "Let's just take the elevator for a spin and make sure we don't lose the signal."
"Yes, of course." I replied, before reaching for the double doors...
SLAM!
SCREEEECH!
..And moving the lever up.
We started moving.
"Fascinating job, I must say, elevator operator. But I suppose you could say the same for mine."
"Pays the bills." I replied, feigning a chuckle.
If he's here, and he's talking, then I'm safe. I continued to reassure myself.
But a few minutes into our ascent, just like Mr. Lawrence... the man... suddenly stopped talking.
"Alright, looks like it's working fine. We can head back down and-"
SILENCE.
"Hello?" I asked.
But he didn't respond.
Fuck. I thought to myself, realizing that whatever caused Ms. Davis, and Mr. Lawrence, and seemingly now the repairman to disappear, could still be in the elevator with me.
Standing there, shaking, sweat rolling down my brow, I backed myself into the corner of the elevator, as I reached for the lever, pressed it down, and the elevator began to make its descent back to the ground floor.
When I finally reached the lobby...
DING!
I scrambled to open the doors...
SLAM!
SCREEEECH!
...And darted out, gasping for air, expecting to find a safe haven.
But instead, all I heard was the sound of Mr. Winfred's voice. "Where is the repairman?"
—
A few minutes later, I was once again sitting in Mr. Winfred's office, next to Jane, this time attempting to explain what had happened.
"...And then he stopped talking! Just like Mr. Lawrence."
"You know what, Mr. Owens. I'm tired of your excuses. And now that we have a working camera in the elevator, it's time to find out what's really going on inside there." He threatened, as I heard him clicking away on his computer, clearly reviewing the footage.
"Please do!" I cried out, "I'm telling you, it's not me."
That's when... Mr. Winfred, and Jane, both went silent.
"Hello?" I called out, unable to see what was really going on. Given the fact that my passengers had recently been going silent, the thought crossed my mind that they too had disappeared, but I could still hear their breathing in the room. Breathing, that sounded like it was increasing rapidly...
...Until they broke the silence.
"Oh... my..." Jane said, struggling to catch her breath.
"That can't be. Let me rewind the tape." Mr. Winfred mumbled, the most scared I had ever heard him.
"What is it?" I asked, as they seemingly played back the video.
I would later find out from Jane that the footage would show myself and the repairman in the elevator, as a slithering, grotesque, humanoid figure, suddenly climbed down from the roof of the elevator, wrapped it's slimy arms around the repairman, then somehow hopped back out of the elevator, and pulled the man up with it. Leaving me standing there, completely unaware of what had just happened.
But in that moment, Mr. Winfred must have realized the... complications associated with reporting such a bizarre phenomenon, and instead decided to finally pin it on me.
"Mr. Owens, you shouldn't have done that!" He cried out.
"Mr. Winfred, what are you talking about?" Jane asked, "You and I just watched the same footage."
That's when I heard him drag a file to his computer's trash and delete it.
CRUNCH.
"Stay out of this, Jane. This man has killed three people in the elevator. I knew I shouldn't have hired an ex con!"
"But sir, I didn't-" I tried to reply, before he interrupted.
"Mr. Owens, I'm picking up the phone, and calling the police. I'd suggest you just stay put."
"But Mr. Winfred, I'm telling you, I didn't do anything!"
"Yes, is this 911? I'm the manager of "The Cornelius" and I'd like to report three murders in my building."
"We'd better go." I heard Jane say, as I felt her place her hand on my shoulder.
"And yes, I have reason to believe the killer is our elevator operator, an ex convict, who is sitting right in front of me."
"Come on, let's go!" Jane screamed, as she tugged at my shirt, I hopped up from my seat, and she led me out of the office, down the hall, and into... of all places... the old freight elevator, as she explained to me what she had seen on the surveillance tape.
—
SLAM!
SCREEEECH!
"Take us to the basement!" Jane called out.
"But the basement is walled off." I replied.
"Just do it!" She insisted, before I moved the lever down and the elevator began to move.
I spent the ride catching my breath, until we finally reached the basement level.
DING!
"Now what?" I asked.
But Jane didn't reply.
"Jane?"
Oh fuck. I thought to myself. The monster.
That's when I turned to the center of the freight elevator, where Jane had been standing, reached out into the unknown...
...And sure enough, felt the cold, slimy, skin of the creature, wrapped around Jane's face, preventing her from making a sound.
Not knowing what else to do, I gripped its disgusting appendages with both hands, and slowly pried it off Jane, as she let out a...
...SCREAM..
...And the monster's arm quickly slithered away, back up through the roof of the freight.
Jane dropped to the ground, coughing violently.
"You okay?" I asked her.
But rather than responding, she simply handed me something...
....I opened my fist, to find a pair of keys.
"The lock above the lever. Unlock it." She instructed, still coughing, as I felt around the lever, found the lock, inserted the key, and unlocked it.
CLICK.
"The doors. They should open now." Jane said, as she stood up, having finally caught her breath.
SCREEEECH!
SLAM!
—
We arrived in the dark basement to smell the same, musty odor from the freight elevator.
After her eyes adjusted and she scanned our surroundings, Jane informed me that this floor looked nothing like the other eight, newly renovated floors, with their modern feel and minimalistic designs.
Instead, the basement was a window into the building's former self, when it had been a factory. Its walls brick and crumbling, its floors concrete and cracked.
And scattered everywhere, were the dusty remnants of laboratory equipment. Devices, machines, tanks, most of which were destroyed, or disconnected, or both.
"What went on down here?" I asked.
"From the looks of it, something inhumane," Jane said, after she picked up a few tattered pieces of paper from one of the lab stations, and told me what was on it.
"The first page looks like some sort of a diagram, of a man being pumped with chemicals from tanks. And the second, a drawing... of the creature from the elevator. In pencil beside it, someone appears to have labeled it "The Silencer.""
Silencer. I thought to myself, before remembering that the creature seemed to always silence the sounds of its victims, and to have been repulsed by Jane's scream. At the same time, it had never bothered me in the elevator, as I tended to stand there in silence.
But before I could dwell too much on the thought, Jane interrupted.
"If you don't mind my asking. What did you go to prison for in the first place?" She asked.
"It's okay," I said, surprised she had waited this long to ask, before contemplating the best way to explain what had happened. "’Cause of my temper. Some guy was being a dick on the train platform. We got into a scuffle, and he accidentally fell into the tracks."
"Over what? Did he insult you? Your blindness?"
"No, I'm afraid not." I replied, "We were drunk... and arguing over... a basketball game, of all things. He was... my friend."
"Oh my God. I'm so sorry."
"It's okay."
Jane put her hand on my shoulder, and we stood there in silence for a moment...
...Until suddenly, we heard the sound of Mr. Winfred, and the police approaching, as they ran down what must have been a hidden set of stairs from the ground level to the basement.
"Come on, follow me!" Jane called out, as she took me by the hand and led me into what I'd soon discover was a labyrinthian network of old passages, while the police and Mr. Winfred both called out to us.
"This is the police! Put your hands on your head, and turn yourself in!"
"You're trapped, Mr. Owens! Just confess your crimes, and you'll simply go back to jail!"
We continued to run deeper and deeper into the passages, as our pursuers began to close in on us, their footsteps getting closer... and closer... and closer...
...Until suddenly, the sound of their footsteps was replaced by that of...
...SCREAMING...
...And they suddenly went...
...SILENT.
"What the?" Jane whispered.
"The creature." I whispered. "It must be down here."
That's when we hatched a plan.
—
Having found our way out of the labyrinth and back to the entrance of the laboratory, where we had arrived in the old freight elevator, I found myself standing alone, waiting, as I nervously tapped my cane on the basement floor, Jane having gone off on her own.
That's when I heard Mr. Winfred emerge from the passages, alone, and call out to me.
"Mr. Owens! There's nowhere to run! Even your beloved elevator is gone. You're cornered." He taunted, as I backed towards the elevator and tapped at it with my cane, its doors open, its shaft empty.
"What did you say?" I asked, encouraging him to talk louder.
"What are you, deaf now too?" The ignorant old man snapped back. "I said, you have nowhere to run!"
"I'm sorry, you'll have to forgive me," I said sarcastically, pointing to my ears. "Can you repeat that again?"
That's when Mr. Winfred began approaching and screamed, "You worthless, ex con! I knew I shouldn't have hired you in the first place! And now, you'll go back to where you belong!"
But suddenly...
...Mr. Winfred went SILENT...
...As the creature must have wrapped its slimy tentacles around his face.
That's when I seized the opportunity, ran over to Mr. Winfred, gripped the cold body of the creature, which was indeed wrapped around him, turned, and flung them both behind me, into the hollow elevator shaft...
SLAM!
...Before hitting the "Up" button on the wall, and calling the freight elevator down.
Suddenly, the gears of the elevator above could be heard turning away, and the machine began its quick descent down.
"Mr. Owens, no!" Mr. Winfred cried out, clearly now separated from the creature.
I froze for a moment, as my mind raced back to the night of the tragic accident, when my friend called out to me from the train tracks, and I was unable to save him in time...
....Until I eventually snapped myself out of it, and willed myself to save Mr. Winfred, no matter how evil the asshole's intentions may have been, reaching out my hand out, and pulling him up and out of the elevator, just as the freight car came crash down to the basement level.
SLAM!
CRUNCH!
"RAAAAAAAARRRRR!" The slimy beast cried out, as it was crushed under the old elevator's weight.
DING!
The basement fell SILENT for a moment, until...
SCREEEECH!
SLAM!
...Jane stepped out and said, "Going up?"
But the joke was met was silence. I simply stood there, shaking, as Mr. Winfred did the same, clearly shocked by the events that had just occurred.
—
A few weeks later, after the authorities had done a full sweep of the basement, and cleared out all traces of the building' old laboratory, I found myself once again back in the manager's office.
"Mr. Owens. This is the last time I'm gonna tell you this!" Jane joked, as I heard her recline back in what was once Mr. Winfred's chair, having been named interim manager since her boss's recent and... ironic... prison sentencing.
"Who's the convict now?" I said with a smile, before making my way out of the office.
"Wait." Jane said, stopping me at the door. "You sure you want to go back to operating the elevator? After all that's happened? Like I said, the doorman job is yours if you want it."
"What's the worst that could happen?" I replied with a smile. "There's another one of those creatures in the building somewhere?"

I'm gonna be real: I hated this. There were interesting concepts, and had they been utilized differently and written by literally anyone else, it could've been an actual good book.
writing. The writing in The Deer and the Dragon is miles better than in The Night and its Moon. It's still not good, but it's better if that tells you anything. The first-person POV mixed with modern-day speak works so much better for Piper's capabilities. It was much easier to get through, but it was still a huge slog for me. Honestly, what are the editors at Bloom even doing? There were still way too many typos and sentences with missing words. Piper still misuses the word dredges after using it in THREE(+?) BOOKS. HOW DO YOU STILL NOT KNOW THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN DREDGES AND DREGS? Dregs are the sediment of a liquid, so what's at the bottom of your coffee cup. Dredge is when they scoop up mud from the bottom of a river. TWO VERY DIFFERENT THINGS. The word broach is also misused in this book TWELVE times, and it's PART OF THE CENTRAL PLOT OF THE BOOK. You mean to use BROOCH, PIPER. They're pronounced the same, but they mean two different things. Again, what the hell are the editors at Bloom doing?
characters Really, the only character I can talk about is Marlow because this book is just about Marlow and how amazing, special, perfect, and genius Marlow is. I fucking hate Marlow. If I ever met Marlow in real life, I would beat her up. Marlow is the most unlikable person ever. The story opens up with her on a date with a guy she's not interested in and can't remember his name; when she gets it wrong, and he corrects her, she continues to call him the wrong name all the way to the end of the book. She mentally berates him for mixing wasabi and soy sauce and cannot let it go. She’s also an AWFUL friend. It seems like her friend's only real purpose is to support her and tell her how amazing she is. She never bothers to make plans with them or inform them about anything that’s happening in her life. When she goes missing for a good chunk of the book, and they're blowing up her phone worried about her, she doesn't even bother to call them to calm them down. She doesn't think about them at all. She's far more concerned with herself and finding her imaginary boyfriend, who she only just decided was real. Her editor tells her she's at risk of losing her job if Marlow doesn't deliver her work or update her on what's happening, and Marlow just...doesn't care. She's like, 'No excuse I can give will be enough, so I'm just not going to say anything at all because I'm afraid of confrontation'. Grow the fuck up?? Her friend Nia only became her friend because she obsessively messaged her on social media until Marlow 'gave in', and now they're family? Somehow? Yet Marlow doesn't think about Nia once or bothers to comfort her when Nia has to call Marlow's abusive mom to ensure Marlow isn't dead. Kirby has allegedly been Marlow's friend since childhood, but does Kirby know anything about Caliban at all? Does Nia? Does Marlow tell her friends anything? If they know about the abuse her mom put her through, do they know how that abuse started? When Fauna shows up and freaks out over liking Kirby’s name so much, Marlow takes it upon herself to tell Fauna the story of Kirby’s name, scornfully informing Fauna that Kirby isn’t their real name the second Fauna expresses interest in it. (Like what, are you jealous that Fauna likes Kirby’s name, you fucking insecure freak??) The story revolves solely around something traumatic that happened to Marlow and how she and Kirby sat and played Super Smash Bros. Kirby liked their character so much that they adopted the name. Which…okay, choosing the name because you liked a video game character, okay, fine. But the whole story preceding this was so unnecessary and just made Marlow come off as suuuuch a whiny baby. “Oh, you want to know about my friend’s name? Well, first, let me preface it with this long woe-is-me story all about ME before I tell you how they chose their name because basically everything revolves around me.”
The way Marlow talks about rejection is so juvenile. You're in your thirties girls, get over it. Life is full of rejections. Someone telling you they didn't to play with you when you were eight years old isn't something you should form your whole life around. Like Marlow doesn't want kids because she doesn't want them to face rejection. Oh my god, Marlow. I also can't empathize with her trauma with her mom at all because I feel like I didn't really see much of it. I'm sure some of the things she says might hit with other people, but I wanted an actual flashback of a super intense fight or conversation instead of an overview of what happened.
plot. It took a while to get to the actual plot. About 100 pages in before things start really happening. I would’ve liked a little more exposition on Marlow’s relationship with Caliban at the beginning of the book. I get that some of the reveals needed to come more towards the end, but I kind of wish that maybe the fox had spoken to Marlow, too, which would’ve helped with why she’s so sure she’s insane. Foxes don’t talk! In all honesty, I wish this story had been restructured entirely. I think it would've been substantially better if we'd started out in Marlow's childhood. We can see how her day to day life was before Caliban ever appeared, how things were with her mom, who can also see through the veil. Maybe she notices some strange things about her mom that she just brushes off, which she later sees in herself and understands why her mom responded that way. Then something actually traumatic happens instead of some little kids not letting Marlow play with them, instigating her starting to see Caliban. I also would've liked to see flashbacks to Marlow's previous lives. While she's busy trying to convince herself Caliban isn't real, those flashbacks would add to her thinking she's losing her grip on reality. Maybe she'll be doing something innocent, like washing the dishes, and then suddenly, she sees herself standing in the middle of a raging battle, wearing long, elaborate robes. Do you see what I'm saying? This could've been cool! Instead, I had to read about Marlow jerking off about herself for 600 pages.
At some point, Caliban shows up to Marlow looking like a human. She's a teenager at this point, but they eventually start sleeping together, and like...idk something about that feels icky to me. It feels like grooming. Because he's clearly thousands of years old, he probably stays the same age while she's a teenager. What age did he wait for her to turn before their relationship turned sexual? Also, she doesn't even think he's real, and he does nothing to convince her that he is. Yeah....just no thanks. I'm good. Marlow tells Caliban when she's 21, she doesn’t want to see him anymore, so she literally physically cannot see him, but she can hear and feel him, and he still shows up, and like they keep having sex. So she’s just having sex with her imaginary demon friend for like five years before she’s finally like, all right, this is weird; maybe we should stop. And then she immediately regrets that when he stops showing up and then the rest of the book finally happens.
We also get flashbacks to when Marlow first starts escorting, and tbh, I hated this depiction of sex work. I keep hoping since Piper claims to be an advocate for sex work and is a former SWer that, we might get some actual depth to this plot. Maybe learn how Marlow was able to mold herself into the person she needed to be for each client, how she’s able to play people, etc. But no. She meets some random girl in a foreign country where she’s teaching English to children, and the girl is like, OMG, you’re too pretty to BE A TEACHER. COME HANG OUT ON MY YACHT. Now, I’m going to be so real. I feel like any woman with a speck of intelligence in their brain would have red flags going off right about now. If a random woman I met in a foreign country invited me to her yacht five minutes after meeting me, I’d immediately assume this woman was about to try and murder me or kidnap me or traffick me or something. But not Marlow. She is like fuck it, why not. She flies on over to wherever this yacht is(literally, she has to get on a plane and fly there) and makes some new besties who introduce her to the wonderfully glamorous non-dangerous life of escorting, where they hand her clients and set up the appointments for her and blah blah blah(also, wanna point out that Marlow even tries to say that she built this sex work empire herself. bitch no you didn't. it was all handed to you). I don’t feel like I really need to go further about why this is a really poor, dangerous rose-colored glasses-type depiction of sex work. It’s just not the reality.
Flash forward five years later, and Marlow is now a top-selling author writing about South African folklore as a white woman, trying to date other men, still having sex with her imaginary friend, calling her nonbinary friend a horse girl, the usual. Her escort pals are nowhere to be seen, and we have no clue what happened to them. We never hear from them again; they just vanish once Marlow gets what she wants from them, just like Nia and Kirby vanish once Marlow finds Fauna and Azrames. One day, Marlow’s at a book signing and sees the ONE bad client she had(because in all the years/months fucking strange men you meet in a foreign country, only one time does it go bad. okay, sure) He somehow finds where she lives, breaks into her home, and tries to murder her. An angel shows up and murders him instead, and then Caliban finally reveals his face and explains to Marlow that he has marked everyone who’s ever wronged her. (Wronged her in what way, tho. Like if someone accidentally shoulder-checked her on the street, are they now marked for death?) I thought it was kind of weird that she’s not like…focused on the fact that her hallucinations have extended to two people and another person dying. She’s still convinced Caliban is a figment of her imagination even after she sees this happen, and Caliban explains to her that he couldn’t save her because there’s some type of contract with her that forbids him from doing anything under her roof without her permission. But she still gets mad and banishes him, and now he can’t come back, and now she’s like, but wait, no, I didn’t mean it. Thus begins the search for Caliban.
Now, I could sit here and outline the rest of the book, but I won't because it's so boring, and nothing of substance really happens. So, to summarize. Marlow searches for Caliban fruitlessly for months and finally makes some progress when she decides to go to the house of the guy who tried to kill her and finds a parasitic entity that she continuously calls a Cheshire Cat. then Silas, the angel, shows up to save her again. Silas maybe wants to fuck Marlow, I can't tell. He waffles between abandoning Marlow to die and stalking her and her mom to force Marlow to bond with him for no seeming reason at all. Everyone and their mom wants Marlow to join their religion, and I don't know what the fuck makes her so special. Marlow is such a popular author that everyone recognizes her name, reveres her, fawns over her, and has multiple copies of her two books in their offices. She's so good that she inspired millions to switch religions. This book was so exhausting to read because it was just about how amazing Marlow is LMFAO. I'm pretty sure they even try to say she's the reincarnation of Helen of Troy, the most beautiful woman in the world. Like....wow.
Marlow goes to Hell with Fauna to escape bonding with Silas, where they meet a literal stolen character design. this guy
(my original review has these images but I am an idiot and don't know how to post them so instead I'll share the links)
https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/hostedimages/1717860981i/35597445._SY540_.jpg
Don't believe me? here's the commissioned character art.
https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/hostedimages/1717860929i/35597423._SY540_.jpg
Anyway, his name is Azrames and he and Fauna are long time lovers and they go and bone while Marlow is in the next room and Marlow fucking masturbates to the sounds of them boning. So...I was forced to read about that, and I hated it. And then, at the end of the book, five chapters before it's over, we learn the bad guy who's been holding Caliban captive the entire time is a fertility goddess. Just out of nowhere. No mention of it previously. So, no one tells Marlow the actual plan, and instead, they send her into this fertility clinic the goddess is working out of and have her pretend to want to get pregnant. So the goddess drugs her without her consent and puts her in a room full of half-naked men, hot stereotypes from every ethnicity, while she's SUPER horny. One of the doctors tells her that 'mixed babies are all the rage right now'. The men all tell her how hot and amazing she is and how lucky they are for the chance to get to fuck her. Then after she chooses one of them, she grinds all over him while he just stands there, then they take him out and bring Caliban in and decide he'll fuck her instead. I just wanna point out that this, all of this, would be rape. Marlow didn't consent to being drugged, and if she didn't know who Caliban was, they basically just took the guy she "agreed" to have sex with away and brought in one she didn't agree to for no reason whatsoever. It doesn't matter that she's saying yes to it; she is drugged. She can't consent. Anyway, Caliban sticks his dick in Marlow and just leaves it there, unmoving, and then makes out with the fertility goddess before stabbing her in the heart and cutting off her head, even though five chapters earlier, they said it's super hard to kill a god. I'm just...wow.
Marlow gets taken back to Fauna's apartment by Silas while Caliban and Azrames are stuck fighting more Cheshire Cat demon children that I imagine look like the spider baby from Toy Story. Marlow is still high, so she's putting the moves on Fauna. She's kissing her throat, rubbing her thigh, trying to suck on her fingers. Let me tell you rn, if one of my friends showed up at my place high af doing this shit to me, I'd be livid. Because I guarantee you, Marlow will not apologize for doing any of this to Fauna.
Fauna tells Marlow that they can be sunflowers. The book ends.
I will read the next one because I like to suffer, but...I hated this. I give it 2 stars because the writing is better than TNAIM, but it was not a hit for me at all.

For context, I have extreme fear of needles and pins. You know how before you donate, they poke your finger with a pin then take your blood on a glass shard to check your haemoglobin level? I was nervous of it before I even went to donate. The needle didn't even hurt that much, but after it was done I suddenly started feeling very dizzy and nauseous. I told a nurse I would like to sit aside for a while. She said that I can sit in their resting room next door until I'm better. When we got up to go to the resting room, my vision suddenly went blank.
I don't exactly know what happened for the next five seconds. I'm pretty sure I couldn't even see anything. I could only hear my mother yelling my name (She was with me because I didn't want to go alone). When I was able to see again, I was lying on ground staring at the ceiling, multiple nurses and the doctor were looking at me from above and my mother was yelling at a nurse to bring me water. I was told to lie down in middle of that corridor for 5 minutes as everyone stared at me. Apparently I walked a few steps then fainted and fell. I think the first thing I said after waking up was apologising to the doctor for causing inconvenience.
I asked a nurse if I may still donate, he chuckled and said that I am not allowed to for at least a week. The staff was very nice about it but I'm still embarrassed that I went there and returned home empty handed without donating.
The worst part is that this isn't even the first time I was going to donate. This was going to be my second time. The first time it went very smoothly and I felt nothing other than a mild headache afterwards.
I don't have any sickness or deficiency either. I am perfectly healthy and exercise regularly. The nurse also said that I have a high haemoglobin level. Looking at needles always scared me but never to the point of fainting before this. .
I told the doctor that I will be back a few days later to donate, but now I'm afraid that this might happen again when I go back.

Dear Muslim Redditors,
Throwaway for obvious reasons.
Also, I know I could have left bits out, but I think it's important to be transparent about where I have fallen short and been bad.
I met my husband six years ago, and we got married after a year of being together. He had some red flags that I was aware of, but I cared about him too much to stop myself from marrying him. He's had a hard life; he is from a refugee camp (but grew up in the States), and his parents divorced when he was 10. As a result, he saw some very toxic marriage behavior whilst growing up. However, he managed to still go on to do good things with his life and the support of his mom, like getting a decent job.
When I met him, he didn't really have many friends except for some guys who were really terrible. They made fun of him, but most of all, they were into drinking, clubbing, etc. My husband is an introvert and went out with them once every 3-4 months. But that's it, he was super isolated. After he met me, he repented and wanted to lead a good Muslim life with me.
When he met me, he was really into me, and we saw each other all the time. He was kind (with food), handsome, loved spending time with me (and vice versa), and he put me first. His red flags at the time were that he was REALLY jealous/tried to control what I wore even though I am relatively modest. When he was upset, he also swore and shouted at me. He constantly feared I would cheat on him (he's been cheated on before) and would accuse me of looking at guys. I read a lot about psychology, so I think he might have borderline personality disorder. He is also afraid of abandonment.
In our first year of marriage, I got my dream contract job in Texas (we are from New Jersey) and he moved there for me. The salary was very low, but the experience was really valuable. So he mostly paid all the bills (I told him once the six-month contract was up, I'd live with his mom for a year to help us both save money). I was also really busy with this job, so I didn't cook much. Also, as a new bride, I didn't know how to cook. During those times, he would get super angry at me and be rude, swear, and just be horrible.
I am not great at getting bullied, so when he was being verbally abusive and angry, I would react terribly. I've locked him in the bathroom, and I've kicked him (not hard, like to push him away from me because he was trying to touch me) and pushed him off the bed. I know I shouldn't have done those things, and I know I should have just divorced him, but something about being called a btch, prck, c*nt just felt REALLY horrendous. I just can't handle that happening to me. He has also pushed me back, and frequently said to me you need to be hit to be taught a lesson "as a joke". But he does play fight with me rough. So I know it's not a joke. I've told him to stop and he doesn't, and says why am I being dramatic.
P.S. For the record, when he stopped verbally abusing me I never did anything violent towards him again. I never ever hit him hard (the kick was to push him away from me, and when I pushed him off the bed it was also to get him away from me whilst he was talking to me in a disgusting way. I know I am not a physical abuser, because we have gotten into normal arguments and I haven't reacted badly. I just reacted like that to being abused myself.
Anyways, we broke up over this behavior from him, and he apologized and said he wouldn't do it again, and he genuinely stopped for three years. He also stopped accusing me of cheating on him, and I felt safe enough to start having a family with him, so I got pregnant. The verbal abuse has completely stopped, but now I have normal people issues, and something happened yesterday that was not normal.
During pregnancy, I had hyperemesis. If anyone knows what that is, it basically completely destroys your body and soul. I threw up more than 15 times an hour and lost 10kg in 1.5 months. I couldn't consume anything, even water. The stomach pain was horrendous. Women who have had cancer and hyperemesis (may Allah grant them patience) have said hyperemesis was worse than chemotherapy. I couldn't walk for 5 months, had to take medication, didn't leave the house, and was physically and emotionally crushed. I only felt okay at 7 months, but by then, I had developed anemia and breathing problems.
However, during pregnancy, my husband was also great to me. He took me to every single one of my IV drip appointments and scans. He got me whatever food I needed (crushed fruit was all I could eat) and looked after me.
After I gave birth, one week later, it was Arabic Mother's Day. I was getting flowers for his mom and my mom and I said to myself, oh yeah, I'm an Arabic mother now. He gave me a dirty look and said you're not expecting anything, are you? I didn't because I had just remembered myself, but I said what's wrong with that? And he said, "what have you done to deserve to call yourself a mother?" I started crying because after everything I've been through, how can he think like this? I am staying with my mom, so he thinks I'm being pampered since I'm not living with my mother-in-law anymore.
After that, things started taking a turn for the worse. We're staying at our parents to save money and buy a house. Alhamdulillah, we managed to actually buy a house from living with in-laws. Also, to be able to buy a house, I have only had 2 weeks of maternity leave 😢. My husband had six weeks of paternity leave and only helped the first two weeks. When I went back to work, my mom and I mostly looked after the baby. He wouldn't even look after him while I had Teams meetings, and he was just sitting on the bed watching YouTube enjoying his paternity leave.
After paternity leave finished, he's mostly been at the new house fixing it. He's been asking me for money to help pay our new house bills/renovations, and I'm refusing. We initially agreed on a 70/30 split, but he has barely helped me with the baby, and he has also not been supportive AT ALL to help me while I make the difficult transition of working with a NEWBORN baby.
He also recently betrayed me and my family by telling his mom and sister our family secret about my brother in law. I have genuinely never felt so betrayed and angry. I no longer have empathy for him. I am rude; I tell him he is not a man for asking me for money, and to leave me alone.
For Eid, he gives his family money, his mom, sister, and the kids, and I was like lol, don't I get an Eid present? Then he went into a rant about why I couldn't be one of those wives who holds her man down and helps him give Eid money to the kids, etc. I was like, is your sister a kid? Why, as the mother of your child, am I not worthy of a present? FYI he never buys me gifts.
Last week, I was moving heavy boxes and asked him for help. He ignored me and carried on watching YouTube (I am 2 months postpartum and have a pelvic floor problem as a result). So I told him, if I ever cheat on you, remember this moment. I know I shouldn't have said that, but I just wanted to hurt him the way he's hurt me after giving birth. Nothing else hurts his feelings.
For the record, I had never dated anyone before meeting him, and I was a virgin when I got married. I had literally never had ONE boyfriend. I also had a lot of potentials that all the other girls liked—sons of ministers, ambassadors, and good potentials. But I rejected them because I wanted someone who grew up humbly like me. I thought since he was raised by a single mom too (my mom is a widow), we would understand each other's struggles in this world.
Yesterday he came home, and I was feeding my baby. He said, "open your phone" aggressively. I said no (he doesn't let me go through his phone - however, I know he's not cheating, he doesn't really go out much), and he grabbed my finger and tried to press it on the phone. My mom was downstairs talking to the plumber fixing our drain. I said get off, you're hurting me. He grabbed my hand and aggressively kept trying to get me to open the phone. I have red hand marks on my wrist. My baby was screaming at this point and crying. He still wouldn't stop. Everyone came upstairs to ask what was wrong with my baby.
I said to him calmly in private for the sake of my baby and mom, if I open the phone, will you leave the house? He said yes. So I opened it and let him go through it. Luckily, my mom came, and I gave her the baby and took the phone. I would never cheat on anyone; that's not me.
He has never approached me calmly and asked how I'm doing postpartum after having a difficult pregnancy and going back to work. He never comforts me. He blames me for all his problems in life.
Before pregnancy, I was so responsive to all his emotional needs and anything else he wanted. I just feel completely neglected. He was good to me at the start and has some good things about him. We have had mostly good times, the above is 3% of the time. But I am fed up, and I don't think I can see him the same after how aggressive he was around my baby and how he hurt my hand.
Thanks for reading this far. Your advice is really appreciated.

I've been afraid of the dark for a long time. I don't think I've ever been not afraid of it.
I thought there were monsters in it all throughout middle school and high school. I would have to wake up at 4am to get ready for the bus at 6 and half the year I would have to wait outside in the dark in the woods, my nearest neighbor a half mile away. Needless to say, it didn't help
I had lights and nightlights but I always felt like there was something there watching me. I should probably add that I've been having visual hallucinations since childhood but I never had access to psych care. Still I don't think I had schizophrenia back then. It seems unlikely to see visual hallucinations without other symptoms. I did end up getting a delusion around 12 that still pops up today about a fear of being abducted by aliens. Like I was terrified if I saw the clock at 12am so much so that I would stare at it until it turned 12:01 to make sure that time hadn't slowed and I was safe (not that it mattered). I even put thumbtacks upside down on my windowsill and angled my bed so I could see behind me in my mirror and tv while I tried to go to sleep.
I've gotten better about dealing with it. I know I do better in populated areas rather than in the country. The last time I was in the woods at night with a now ex, we had to call someone to come pick us up because I couldn't continue
Up until last night. My current boyfriend and I went to go camping and for me it was an opportunity to reclaim a ptsd trigger. We hit a few snags on the way there and then before even spending five minutes there, they asked if we were stealing firewood from people's campsites. We paid a pretty penny to go glamping to make the experience as gentle as possible and this employee had just given us a ride back beforehand. We hadn't even unpacked before I was balling my eyes out over the stress and the oncoming paranoia that I felt creeping up. I felt like we were being watched from then on. I'm usually good about ignoring it
It was like a tsunami. There was nothing I could do to avoid it. I cried late into the darkness. My hallucinations badgered me and they always say cutting shit. Then my ptsd trigger kicked in at nightfall so I spent then until the incident in, for lack of better words, "Rambo mode" sitting at the stable watching the door. Staring at the door into the night. I tried to sleep but every twig snapping meant certain death. I didn't know if I was waiting for an animal or my abusers. Probably both.
Then, as if things couldn't get worse, I had to use the restroom and the nearest restroom was down the trail. A somewhat lit trail. I had my boyfriend walk me and I was fine until the lights ended. It was like I hit a wall of darkness, in every sense of the word. I stopped in my tracks and he tried to get me to go forward but we decided to try the main lodge instead. Yep, the lights only went so far. This whole time I'm certain there's a curious mountain lion watching us. Like absolutely certain with no proof.
He tried everything. He couldn't get me to go any further. So we turned around and I told him I would just wait until daybreak that was at least 8+ hours away. I definitely couldn't do that so eventually we tried again and he managed to convince me to walk with him.
When I tell you that I have only been more afraid once in my life, I freaking mean it. I was on red alert. I knew that lion was going to pop out the second it saw me fall behind. I almost broke his fingers from squeazing it so hard. I probably look just great on the trail cams "is something there ranger Jim?" guy looks the next few "not a fucking thing Mike. Heh.. Not a fucking thing." hits record.
I will admit that after all that and getting to the lodge, I was rather determined to get back to the campsite and very angry and humiliated. This was the first time he's seen me react so strongly to something he can't perceive. I talk to my hallucinations all the time (usually they're pretty nice/neutral) but he's never seen that completely irrational side of me. I was even jumping from nothing sounds (like just the idea of it popping out made me jump).
I still think the worst part was being so out of breath that it legitimately took an hour to breathe normally (I'm chubby but I had a lot of issues with covid and other lung stuff) but having to stop for only a second because you're too afraid the mountain lion is going to kill you is so unreasonable. We were close to other campsites too so it's not like we were all alone. I could see there tents. So they probably heard a lot of what happened too which was extremely humiliating.
The rest of the night was dealing with a mix of ptsd and emotional overload until I was able to pass out for 4 hours.
We pretty much left the next day after he drove us around to some of the most beautiful places I have ever seen in my life. It's so weird too because he took me to a beach I've been going to in my head for awhile. I don't know if other people have vivid imaginations with schizophrenia but I swear I can feel the sand and taste the salt in the water. There's been a nice old man there for a little bit too. The real life place he took me to was so eerily similar but I could barely lift my head from shame. I couldn't even go get breakfast at the lodge because I was too ashamed to show my face. I dont want to be noticed as that "weird girl" even though I wear a lot of black.
I promised not to yell at them and after I talked to the staff they informed me that they didn't think we were stealing firewood at all and they'd talk to the employee. They gave us a full refund which they didn't have to so I'm going to leave them a stellar review because it was super super nice otherwise. It was essentially a catered experience.
So that was my Saturday night.
How do I deal with this? It's bound to come up again in life

Hey, this is my first time posting here.
I don't even know where to start since this shit has been going on for over 30 years, surprisingly I'm 36, which means this cancer has been eating my soul since I was a little kid.
One of my earliest memories was me lying in my bed and crying like a dog because I realized that my grandmother was going to die one day. It didn't seem fair and I didn't want to accept that fact. She made it until the beginning of 2020, when a strange Chinese flu ended her life. This woman had to die alone in a crowded and restricted hospital, she lived through a world war, raised 5 children, lost 2 of them and never gave up. She continued to give her best every day. It was a shame to let her go like that.
Another memory was me lying in bed crying again. My mom noticed and ran into my room angrily yelling at me why I was still awake. My response: "Why did you bring me into this world?"
She just left the room without saying a word, leaving me alone in my room where I continued to sob silently so as not to cause any more trouble.
Death was a big topic in my head, while other people in the neighborhood were playing soccer, chasing each other, or generally having a good time, I was sitting at home on hot summer days, thinking about death, searching for the meaning of life. Why live if you are going to die? What's the point of trying to achieve anything if it doesn't matter? Questions that have never been answered.
I was sent to therapy quite early in my life, it was the early 90s, so the doctors usually said that I just needed to do more exercise and leave the video games alone and then everything would be fine with me. When I had my breakdowns, it was okay to casually yell at me or hit me, that would do the trick, they said. After all, we have to be "normal" and fulfill a purpose in life, there is no time and space for "thinking", we have to work and live our lives.
As I got older, I realized that my parents and grandparents were just overwhelmed and kind of embarrassed to have a kid like me. "Why can't this boy just be a normal kid?" were sentences I heard a lot back then.
As I write this, I somehow lose motivation because it is all the same blablabla as usual, yes, I was excluded in school, I was bullied, beaten, laughed at, rejected by girls as a teenager. Blablabla, it's the same story as everyone else's, nothing special, just the standard life that happens to millions of other people out there every fucking day.
I had some success as a young adult, about 18-25 years old. I looked pretty ripped from my construction job, even without going to the gym. I had played guitar for a long time and played in bands, toured Europe, relationships and sex were not a problem at all, I just did what I wanted to do. I was the young rebel. I even managed to convince a girl from the USA to travel 5000 miles across the globe just to see me. Yes, I was quite successful with women, had a large social circle, an international touring band, worked very hard, had good money and was a respected and well-oiled machine in society.
Later I realized that it was just because I drank ridiculous amounts of alcohol every day and just didn't give a fuck about anything. I was literally drinking myself into a stupid state of mind where I just "functioned" and didn't think about anything else. Apparently, that was the winning formula for a fulfilled life. Just do it, don't think about it.
That all stopped when I went to a clinic to get sober, they checked my blood alcohol and it was 4 per mille. The strange thing was that I talked to the doctor as if I had just had a beer in a pub or something. I wasn't stuttering or mumbling, I was standing straight as a post with no weird movements at all. The doctor noted that the amount of alcohol in my blood could be considered lethal for "normal" people. That was the day I stopped drinking once and for all. It's been 8 years now and I haven't touched a drop of alcohol since, not even a piece of cake with alcohol in it or anything else.
It made me a total introvert, shy, insecure, even more depressed. I had time to think again. To the point where, in addition to my depression, I developed an anxiety disorder and had panic attacks as soon as I left my house. They called it agoraphobia. Lost my job. Lead to a point where I isolated myself at home, ordering food, never went outside. It got so bad that I started getting paranoid about anything health related. If I had a twitch in my little finger, I would call an ambulance because I was afraid of having a stroke or a heart attack. If I felt a little dizzy, had a headache, or whatever, I drove to the hospital because I was afraid it was a serious medical condition that could kill me. I once choked on a piece of pasta and that caused severe dysphagia. I can't even eat mashed potatoes when I'm having a bad day because I'm scared to death I'm going to choke again.
So this is my life today. I'm 36, single, basically completely isolated from society, anxiety disorder, panic attacks, depression, severely overweight (which is ridiculous considering I have trouble swallowing even small amounts of food, but hey, soda and candy bars exist, right?).
My mother committed suicide in January of this year, 6 weeks later my father had a new partner and expected me to go on with my life as if nothing had happened. I didn't want to, so he left me. Now I don't have any parents.
My mental health is fucked up, my body is fucked up, I feel lonely but at the same time I'm socially awkward and I don't know what to do with other people at all, I get super stressed pretty quickly. Most people annoy me and I want to be alone.
I failed to start a family myself, so I just accepted my fate and wait for my first heart attack to eventually kill me from the amount of unhealthy food and lack of exercise I do every day.
I fucking hate my life and I don't see the point in changing anything because it doesn't matter if I'm depressed in a nice house or in my shady apartment. Achieving something feels the same as failing. To be honest, I can't feel anything but sadness, anger, hate, jealousy, fear... whatever emotion you choose, it's a negative one. I can't feel positive emotions, yes, I laugh when I see "funny" things, but inside I am dead to positivity. If I get a gift I feel bad, if something good happens to me I get paranoid because there must be a downside and I spend the rest of the day trying to figure out what the catch is.
My apartment has no hot water, my radiators are broken, the windows are leaking, I haven't had a working washing machine in years. I am too insecure and depressed to call my landlord to fix my shit. I fear the words "Wait, you've been living like this for 3 years?" or "Why didn't you call before?"
I am afraid of being judged or even laughed at. I fear having to justify myself.
There is no way I can accept things like love, passion, joy... I don't even know what it feels like anymore because it's been decades since I embraced positive feelings. Now they just seem like a strange concept to me, a concept for stupid people who just lie to themselves to try to forget the inevitable (death). Like a mask, like a little kid putting his fingers in his ears and screaming "LALALA I CAN'T HEAR YOU". I get angry when people try to be positive around me because I think it is all bullshit. I can't remember the last time I committed to something, when people talk about good things in the sense of "life is so beautiful, look at the flowers, the sun, hehe I love life" I think they are crazy and just close their eyes because they don't see the reality and how fucking stupid and meaningless life is.
Being so bitter annoys the fuck out of me, but I can't help it. I have to destroy any positivity, it's almost like I want to suffer because I think that's the only way this life works. That I deserve this. Seeing people on the internet making millions of dollars every year just by jumping around on TikTok while stupidly imitating some degenerate music is the total state of humanity for me. Why should I get up in the morning and work my ass off for a company that doesn't give a shit about me if I can just collapse and die on the spot? Just so my stupid fucking boss can drive his Porsche at the end of the month? To pay my taxes so some rich ass corrupt politician without a degree can sit in parliament and get paid 10,000 bucks a month to be there and tell people like me that I need to pay more taxes and work harder?
This planet sucks ass! Excuse me for getting more and more profane with every sentence, but I have managed to write myself into a state where I desperately want to have the big red button that destroys the entire Earth in front of me and just push it so that this whole planet just blows up with all the assholes living on it. I gave life a lot of chances, always got back up after falling down, worked hard, cared about relationships and friendships, always paid the full price, never broke the law. In short, I did everything this fucking society wanted me to do, and what did I get back? A kick in the ass.
I have to pull myself together right now. To be honest, I have no idea what I even wrote here as my hands took over and it just poured out.
I'm trapped between the worlds. Too afraid to die but too tired to want to live. I just don't want to exist at all.
I'm exhausted and want peace.

I've had joint cracking stims most of my life and it's really messed up my right shoulder and caused me a lot of pain through my life. That combined with skin picking and hair pulling. And I'm realizing that I adopted these stims to prevent more noticeable stims like hand flapping and rocking, which now that I'm unmasking more feel very good and natural to me and I do a lot in private and around my brother who I trust. But it's so hard to cut out the harmful stims in public, because they're safe.
Unfortunately picking at skin and running fingers through hair is seen as fairly normal which kind of just encourages me to do it more to avoid stuff like rocking or hand flapping or noticeable hand posturing.
I know I need to stop the harmful stims because they're hurting me but I feel so self conscious in public. I'm really trying hard not to care what people think of me but 21 years of worrying how I'm perceived is really hard to shake off.
I used to think autism was a self control disorder because I knew I'd do large stims if I was allowed to, and I thought I just had enough self control not to and that's what made me neurotypical. Turns out I'm autistic and I don't have self control, I just redirect that need to something Different and Worse.
I guess I'm just frustrated with myself. And with non disabled people and how they view disabled people. The worst part is that I already know I'm visibly autistic. I've been clocked by every single person I've met at school within the past three years. People don't even ask if I'm autistic anymore, they just assume. But I'm still afraid of large stims in front of people.

This is a burner. I have created this account specifically for this one post and will probably never use this acc to post again. Some context is in order, but not that much, so as not to expose my identity.

I'm from Serbia (can't give out my city), and I have recently been applying to EU jobs for software engineering, with around 5 years of experience. I do this from time to time, as I don't enjoy life in my country very much and would occasionally daydream about going away.
Well, much to my surprise, a company from the Netherlands has since reached out to me, asking whether I'm available for a short call next week. The Netherlands - the land of my dreams. I applied via LinkedIn and checked the No box, on Do you have a legal work permit to work in the Netherlands , but still, they're interested in talking to me.
Now, this is literally a dream come true for me! The e-mail was filled with positive and encouraging language, which is a stark contrast to how people address one another over here. Should everything go well, I would gladly drop all the shit I have here, move there, work my ass off, and am even willing to renounce my citizenship for the possibility of getting the Dutch one. However, there's one teeny tiny problem.
A few months ago, I was caught with a joint and some small amount of weed by the police. However, compared to the European standards, our officers are much less democratically minded and much more prone to threats of and direct acts of violence. A regular intelligent guy might even say they're the scum of the Earth. And I would agree.
Anyways, the court hearing is supposed to take place next month, whereas the interview is taking place next week. I will have to piss in that fucking bottle for 3 goddamn months, which I find extremely humiliating.
While the company is willing to sponsor people from outside of the EU, and the fact that recreational use of weed is very legal in the Netherlands, this would still count as an unresolved governmental issue from my side, and I'm very scared of being denied a work permit, because it might set the course for the future - and I might even be denied a visa sometime in the future, no matter the country I apply for.
I have always despised my country and have had nothing good to say about it. Let alone now, when I've been given me a reason to passionately hate it. I have never had positive experiences with the government, even back in the day, when I hadn't done anything wrong, let alone now. I would love to give my country the middle finger and start my life with a clean slate.
However, even if everything went well, I'm afraid this unresolved matter with the state would haunt me for the rest of my life. Possession and usage of marijuana is considered a felony here, and there are no statutes of limitation for anything anymore here. I have no support for this career move, especially from my family, but I've never asked for it, in the first place - it's my life and I want to live it how I see fit.
Unfortunately, that isn't quite feasible in my current position. "Wrongthink" is forbidden here - and carries with it a hefty prison sentence. Especially if one disagrees with the state about the laws and implementation thereof. Not on paper, but in practice. They will just pin something on me that I didn't do and toss my ass in the can - ESPECIALLY BECAUSE I'M FROM A GOOD-STANDING FAMILY, WITH NO PRIOR HISTORY OF "WRONGDOING". I've seen and heard a lot about how they operate. Especially on the news. And they're being paraded as if they saved lives, and not ruined them. If I flee now, they will issue a warrant for my arrest, for whenever I come back home, which, I would, of course, never do. I don't give a flying fuck about my standing with the Serbian government - I care about how places that afford the future view me.
I will consult a lawyer on Monday, and see if I can make a plan of action, but my question for the Redditors is: does anyone have any advice on how to get out of this pickle? I mean, aside from consulting with an attorney?
This country is an open-air prison, and I'm ferociously looking for "an out".
Help me. Save me. Please.

So, my cursor have the loading blue circle and it do not want to disapear so I though it was an application that were working in the background infinitely, then I tried to reboot on Safe mode to confirm my theorie, and now I just can't use my finger print to unlock my PC or the PIN. I just don't get it at all i tried to access to the BIOS and It didn't work, I'm totally afraid. I absolutely need help and I have a test in 2 days on my PC, help me

I have an HP Elitebook that my company forced on me. I couldn't use my old HP notebook which worked just fine and had more RAM and a better processor. No, I have to use this thing.
I can tolerate the aforementioned nonsense, but I cannot tolerate the completely trash touchpad. Aside from the buttons now moved to the top, yet somehow still integrated into the pad itself, its the fact that it'll be sensitive for one second, then not read another. Cursor will jump regularly. Its just not useable. My IT tried going through it and updating all the drivers and messing with the settings. No luck. I think it has to do with the fact that I need one finger to scroll and another finger to press, but when two fingers are moving on the touchpad, it freezes. Wouldn't be an issue if the "button" wasnt integrated into the touchpad itself.
Has anyone else experienced this? Is there a way to fix it? I'm hoping for users with similar experiences and success stories because I'm afraid I'm going to have turn this thing extraterrestrial, for the good of humanity.

Hey everyone,
This is a sequel to a vent post I made about two days ago: https://www.reddit.com/PhD/s/FLBTeMyKQa
I learned more about why my PI chose me and he said that he's confident I understand statistics and research methods conceptually because I've taught it. The thing is though... I've never made my own materials when teaching with the exception of a class that was taken off the docket for the first time in 4 years and was only a two credit hour course beforehand. With the exception of one online class, I've consistently been rated and commented that I had the worst class and/or was the worst instructor students have had for the past two years I've taught. The ratings have only gone down as well. For example, I had overall averages of 2.8-2.9 out of 5 for my in person classes while my last ones were 1.8 out of 5 all across the board.
For example, I was also recently told by my advisor about chi square as one of the analyses for dissertation data and I've never done one in my whole life despite taking two undergraduate stats classes, one Master's level stats class, and retaking the equivalent stats class in my Ph.D program.
I've felt on edge every single day of my internship, afraid, and scared to death of voicing how I really feel. Every day, we have to put our fingers up on a scale of 1-5 (sometimes 1-10) about how we truly feel. I put up a 4 (on the 5 scale) or 8 (on the 10 scale), but in reality I'm a 1-2 out of 5 or a 3-4 out of 10. I also need to rate how busy I was out of 10 and I always feel like a 5-6 because the tasks I'm required to do I have a tendency to do much faster than my PI (for this internship) expects of me in this case.
In addition, I'm finding my focus when I read journal articles at my cubicle non existent because I'm still trying to overcome my sleep apnea. It's better than before, but when I'm emotionally overwhelmed like I am at my internship, then I can't think at all. It took me hours to read a journal article that should've been 1-2 hours for example.
To top it off, my PI promised and wants us to all have something that can lead to a first author publication by the end of this. I don't know if I'm at a point where, despite being towards the tail end of my Ph.D, whether I can handle this.
I'm going to sit on this decision further, but how do I mitigate the damage if I quit? I think this will surprise my boss since I've kept everything to myself, but I want this to be clear. To top it off, the hospital where I'm working right now is doing this as a first ever and my PI has said there's a ton of trust being put into this so he can do so in subsequent years. I would want him to still be able to do that, but acknowledge at the same time that I was the one and only person who just didn't fit expectations.
My advisor at my Ph.D program was also extremely happy that I got this because of the first author publication promise. Since the university where I'm doing my Ph.D recently stopped admitting clinical psychology students because they're going to cut the program, it's been difficult for those in adjacent programs like mine (i.e., Experimental) to get any sort of internal funding from the university for projects or anything of the sort. In other words, I could only use the resources the lab already had to try to run experiments and get published in this case.
I'm looking for advice on how to minimize the damage in this case since I'm inevitably going to burn a bridge with my boss. My advisor though... I think he'd be disappointed in me and I can't avoid interaction with him. Hopefully, there's some way I can mitigate the damage.
ETA: In case it's important, my current PI's h-index has been in the mid 90s these past few years. I'm not going to name drop him but he's been faculty at a lot of prestigious institutions. Thus, this internship felt WAY better than I deserve given my Ph.D program is at a no name R2 state school.

Hey everyone,
This is a sequel to a vent post I made about two days ago: https://www.reddit.com/PhD/s/FLBTeMyKQa
I learned more about why my PI chose me and he said that he's confident I understand statistics and research methods conceptually because I've taught it. The thing is though... I've never made my own materials when teaching with the exception of a class that was taken off the docket for the first time in 4 years and was only a two credit hour course beforehand. With the exception of one online class, I've consistently been rated and commented that I had the worst class and/or was the worst instructor students have had for the past two years I've taught. The ratings have only gone down as well. For example, I had overall averages of 2.8-2.9 out of 5 for my in person classes while my last ones were 1.8 out of 5 all across the board.
For example, I was also recently told by my advisor about chi square as one of the analyses for dissertation data and I've never done one in my whole life despite taking two undergraduate stats classes, one Master's level stats class, and retaking the equivalent stats class in my Ph.D program.
I've felt on edge every single day of my internship, afraid, and scared to death of voicing how I really feel. Every day, we have to put our fingers up on a scale of 1-5 (sometimes 1-10) about how we truly feel. I put up a 4 (on the 5 scale) or 8 (on the 10 scale), but in reality I'm a 1-2 out of 5 or a 3-4 out of 10. I also need to rate how busy I was out of 10 and I always feel like a 5-6 because the tasks I'm required to do I have a tendency to do much faster than my PI (for this internship) expects of me in this case.
In addition, I'm finding my focus when I read journal articles at my cubicle non existent because I'm still trying to overcome my sleep apnea. It's better than before, but when I'm emotionally overwhelmed like I am at my internship, then I can't think at all. It took me hours to read a journal article that should've been 1-2 hours for example.
To top it off, my PI promised and wants us to all have something that can lead to a first author publication by the end of this. I don't know if I'm at a point where, despite being towards the tail end of my Ph.D, whether I can handle this.
I'm going to sit on this decision further, but how do I mitigate the damage if I quit? I think this will surprise my boss since I've kept everything to myself, but I want this to be clear. To top it off, the hospital where I'm working right now is doing this as a first ever and my PI has said there's a ton of trust being put into this so he can do so in subsequent years. I would want him to still be able to do that, but acknowledge at the same time that I was the one and only person who just didn't fit expectations.
My advisor at my Ph.D program was also extremely happy that I got this because of the first author publication promise. Since the university where I'm doing my Ph.D recently stopped admitting clinical psychology students because they're going to cut the program, it's been difficult for those in adjacent programs like mine (i.e., Experimental) to get any sort of internal funding from the university for projects or anything of the sort. In other words, I could only use the resources the lab already had to try to run experiments and get published in this case.
I'm looking for advice on how to minimize the damage in this case since I'm inevitably going to burn a bridge with my boss. My advisor though... I think he'd be disappointed in me and I can't avoid interaction with him. Hopefully, there's some way I can mitigate the damage.
ETA: In case it's important, my current PI's h-index has been in the mid 90s these past few years. I'm not going to name drop him but he's been faculty at a lot of prestigious institutions. Thus, this internship felt WAY better than I deserve given my Ph.D program is at a no name R2 state school.

First Last
“I remain here, because that’s what I choose to do. You remain alive for that same reason. Am I understood?” The room seemed rather uncomfortable with the words that Human spoke, looking between one another nervously. The commander steadied himself and addressed the room, breaking the silence.
“No need to be alarmed, that is a 5 inch thick ballistic barrier, it’s not going anywhere,” He reassured the group. They settled down to let Marketh continue. He cleared his voice nervously before speaking again, trying to present himself as unphased.
“Moving on, before you is one final picture. Do you recognize the ship in the image?” This time it showed a strange ship that looked similar to the ones from Zate’s file, but on a much grander scale. The accompanying measurement showed that it was nearly 20 kilometers long and half as wide.
“Why are you showing me 1,000 year old pictures? If you’re claiming that this was taken recently, then that's impossible.”
“Please answer the question.”
“That isn’t possible because that ship no longer exists.”
“And why would that be?” Countered Marketh.
“Because I was the one who destroyed it.” The room was quiet for a moment before Human spoke again. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I think I’m done here.”
“I don’t believe you know how an interrogation works. It is not up to you to decide when we are finished. I will let you know-”
“No, I don’t think you understand how this works. I’ve had enough, I would like to leave. That's how this works. I’m only going to ask you nicely one more time, then I’ll show myself to that door behind you.”
“Let me talk to him, please! He doesn’t want-” Lizra spoke out, but was cut off by Marketh.
“I said to speak only when it is requested. Once more, and you will be escorted from the room.” reprimanded Marketh before turning the microphone back on. “Maybe we should start-”
“Let her speak to me.”
“I’m not sure who you are referring to, but I-”
“Let. Her. Speak.” Human stated again, slower and with more malice in his words.
Marketh looked shaken, and turned to the commander, “Sir, should we-?”
“Let the Captain speak. It seems like it would cooperate with her better.” He said, not taking his eyes off of Human. Lizra took Marketh’s pedestal as he grumbled something to himself whilst stepping away. She composed herself, taking a deep breath before adjusting the microphone and started.
“Are you alright Human, did they hurt you?”
“I’m fine. I didn’t like the tone of voice that one was using with you.”
“He isn’t usually like that, everyone is on edge. Please just tell them what they want to know and I’m sure that we can all-”
“No.” Human said calmly, the animosity in his voice from before was gone now, replaced with indifference. “I played the game, I answered his questions, and now I'm done. Either they show me some decency and talk to me face to face, without all this extra shit, or I’m leaving. And anyone who tries to stop me, won’t have the chance to tell their family why they aren’t coming home from work today.”
Lizra turned to the commander standing next to her, “Sir, I was with Human on my ship for weeks, if he meant me any harm, I wouldn’t be here talking with you today-”
“You do not give the commander a reque-” Marketh started.
“I’ll allow it. Go on Captain.” The commander replied, striking down Marketh’s attempt to reprimand her.
“Whatever that file said, it’s not the whole truth. Just give him the chance to tell his side, and don’t treat him like some object. Then maybe we can realize that we’re on the same side here.”
“Will you take responsibility for any and all of its actions from this point onward? Along with the corresponding punishment?” He inquired.
“30 seconds. Make up your minds, I’m getting pretty bored with your squabbling.” Human warned from the other side. Marketh hopped over and tapped the microphone controls in confusion, confirming that it was indeed off.
“Yes I’ll take responsibility, I assure you he won’t harm anyone if you just treat him with respect.” Lizra assured the commander.
“Very well, just know anything bad that may transpire, anyone harmed, their blood is on your paws Captain Lizra.” He leaned forward and pressed the microphone button. “We have agreed to a more formal discussion. you will be released you into the custody of Captain Lizra, anything that you do-”
“I heard. I’m waiting.” Human said coldly as he twisted his hands, causing the metal cuffs to clatter uselessly to the floor. The group exited the room, making their way to the other end of the heavy containment door. A Brunt was standing outside looking bored, but quickly snapped to attention when he saw the gaggle of officers approach.
“Open the door, Prior.” Instructed the commander. He mumbled a quick aye sir before tapping an Interface on the wall and pushing the door open. Human casually stepped out of the room and looked down at the small procession of officers.
“You're shorter without your pedestal to stand on.” Human chuckled, singling out Marketh who was trying to hide in the rear of the group.
“You requested a proper meeting with us. My admin staff and I will meet with you in one of our conference rooms. Prior, escort the Human for the duration of his stay; now follow me.” The Brunt let out a long sigh, his scaly frame was comparable to Human’s stature, but that’s where the similarities ended. His species sported a long reptilian maw filled with rows of sharp teeth, and a long tail that dragged along the ground as he walked. His underbelly, instead of scales, had thick yellow plating that faded into the green scales on his back. His short but muscular arms ended in webbed fingers along with opposable thumbs.
He stepped up to Human to accompany him and shoved him from behind, clearly having very little idea of who exactly he was escorting. The procession of miniature officers wandered through the gridlike corridors of the base, with Human in tow. The bustling hallways were filled with numerous different species that parted to the side once they saw the group. Some looked on with curiosity as they passed, others would walk into the hall, see the high ranking officers, and quickly turn back the way they came. Their change of plans must have been relayed up, because waiting for them were even more fully armed Brunts and Indurans on the flanks of the door. Donned in their full combat attire, it looked like they were geared up for a fight that could happen at any moment.
“A little bit excessive.” Human commented in an annoyed tone.
“We are merely taking the necessary precautions, there is no need to be alarmed.” The commander replied curtly. He strode up to the tall door as the guards stepped aside to make way for him. He pressed a button on a handheld Interface and it opened up to reveal the meeting room. Inside was a large table, at the head multiple raised platforms that were tailored specifically for Elyrians, while the rest were able to accommodate a myriad of other species. A large table with an inactive three-dimensional hologram interface took up the center of the room, and different banners of the OF member species lined the perimeter.
“Captain Lizra, please have it sit at the far end-” the commander started, but Human cut him off.
“I can speak for myself, thanks. And that’s the last time you refer to me as it.”
“Of course, my mistake. Please take a seat.” He apologized. The Elyrian brass took their pedestals opposite Human, and Lizra decided to stand next to Human for the session. “Captain, we have received the report sent by the Extant aboard your vessel. Within it, were many things that we have found to be extremely worrying to say the least. And in the current circumstances, we opted to err on the side of caution. But it seems that you were not fully involved with the report, is this correct?”
“Yes, my Extant subordinate acted independently from me, and submitted the report without my knowledge. They only covered one side of the story, and I believe the information within may not be entirely accurate.” She explained, relieved to finally have her side of the story heard. Human sat quietly studying the officers at the other end of the room.
“Unfortunately for you, the information was accompanied with overwhelming evidence that seems to dispute your claims that it- he” The commander corrected, “is not working for The Core. What evidence do you have to suggest otherwise?”
“Well only word of mouth. I don’t have any physical evidence, other than the circumstances in which we found Human. Whoever or whatever was in those videos from Zate’s report could not possibly be connected with him now. We were the first ones to rediscover that facility since migration. He had been there long before and long after any of those recordings took place. But if you’d take a moment to hear his side of things, you’ll see that he isn't working in tandem with whatever group executed those attacks.”
“Wait, what videos?” Human spoke up, confused.
Another officer next to the commander bearing the rank of a Legate spoke next. “Captain, I am Intelligence Legate Teiren. Please refrain from mentioning further details of classified information while the subject of that information is in the room. You have yet to be properly briefed on what is and is not critical information, this is your only warning.” He cautioned and stood up adjusting his uniform before speaking again, “I reviewed the dossier that was presented to you during your voyage. It depicted data that directly links this Human with The Core, and groups that have executed numerous attacks, not only on our own people, but other OF factions over multiple decades. Even if he is not currently serving The Core, there is an extreme possibility that he is connected with them. Yet when presented with this information, you chose to not only act against the recommendation of an Extant, which is generally considered unwise, but to then bring this potentially dangerous individual to our most vital system. I question your true motives now, or at the very least think you showed an extreme lapse in judgment and an inability to think of the potential consequences of your actions.”
“I acted in accordance with the information that I had and my own personal ethics. I did not believe it was right to execute someone who *might* be connected to an enemy. But from what he’s told me, he no longer wishes to work for anyone other than himself.”
“And once again do you have any proof to support these claims, Captain?” The Legate asked. Lizra was quiet, trying to think of how to reply before Human spoke up.
“I thought I was supposed to be the one questioned here? How can I prove my innocence if I don’t even know the information that’s being used to convict me?”
“We are merely trying to discern whether or not you have any possible connection to The Core within the last few centuries. We have no way of verifying your presence at that facility for the entire 1,000 years you claim to be there.” answered the commander.
“I have the evidence that you seek.” Answered Tic-Tac from Human’s back. Human reached around, removing Tic-Tac and placed him on the table in front of the officers. The holo-interface on the table flared to life and projected a two dimensional screen for the officers to see.
“I possess a complete recording of the last 1,036 years since I was reset. I will replay the recording from the moment we entered the facility up until our recent release. I will timelapse the years in which no movement was detected aboard the facility, but as you will see there are no cuts.”
The first part of the footage was from Human’s point of view, as he landed a damaged ship onto the surface of a rocky moon before stumbling up to the facility. He looked down at his hands which were covered in blood, slowly making his way up to the airlock doors. Tic-Tac’s voice in the recording sounded through the display’s speakers
“Just get me to the door, I’ll take it from there. I will let them know that we’re surrendering. This place should still be inhabited because their colony ships haven’t passed through the asteroid belt yet.”
“I just need a second to breathe. I’ll get us there buddy don’t worry.”
“Power is at 3% and dropping fast, we do not have very long.”
Human trudged up to the door pulling the black box off of his back and placing it on the ground next to one of the airlocks. Fiddling with a few different wires, he connected the box to the facility's door controls.
“Ok, I’ll take it from here, I’m putting you to sleep to preserve power, do you trust me?”
“Of course, I got nobody else left now do I?” He laughed before slumping down with his back against the door and the sound of his breathing slowed.
The time stamp stayed the same, but the feed shifted to the security cameras of the base. A small team of ancient Elyrian soldiers donned in primitive space suits and ballistic gear made their way out and surrounded the body on the ground, their fear and anxiety was clearly visible in the video. The feed was blank for a moment and Tic-Tac spoke up to explain.
“After they retrieved us, it took much convincing for them to allow me further access to their systems, but as you will see from the next recording, it is dated only one month later.”
In the next portion a group of Elyrian Scientists were working in the same room Lizra had originally found Human in. They finished making some final adjustments before Tic-Tac’s voice sounded in the video once again.
“It seems to have worked, excellent job professor Erini. Now that I am no longer operating in low power, I can assist you with anything you need going forward. We only have a few months before your ships arrive, and together we should be able to finish your project.”
“I do hope you can keep your end of the deal, the future of our species depends on this project’s success.” Replied one of the scientists.
“Do not worry, we will have it completed before their arrival. Now let’s not waste any more time.”
After the conversation it shifted to a time lapse over a few months, the footage never shifting to a different room. Slowly the cryostasis pod began to take shape as sped up flashes of scientists worked diligently around the clock, months of progress took shape in seconds. It slowed down again to show Human getting into the pod as they tested it for the first time.
“It seems to be working, this is incredible! If we can get this technology to the generation ships then it could change everything. Everyone who's alive now will see the new world!” The lead scientist exclaimed excitedly. “And with the tests that we were able to run on the human you brought us, we were able to get it working without harming any of our own personnel. We’ve also been attempting to reverse engineer the technology in his suit and have signaled back to the ships that we’re close to developing something that we could use ourselves. We truly can’t thank you enough.”
“I’m happy I could assist you, without your help, my human and I would have surely perished.”
“We finished it just in time too, they can still retrieve us! You can go ahead and send the finalized schematics along with the retrieval message to the generational ships.” ordered the doctor as he absently looked over some notes on a nearby desk.
“I’m sorry Erini, I’m afraid I can’t do that.”
“What's the problem?”
“I think you know what the problem is just as well as I do.” The monotone inflections of Tic-Tac's voice sounded cold and devoid of emotions.
“What’re you talking about?” The doctor asked, getting increasingly worried.
“I cannot allow you to contact them and bring them here to this facility. I will not have your desire to be retrieved jeopardize my mission.”
“I’m sorry? The mission is for us to complete the work. You were going to save our species since yours nearly destroyed it! That was the deal!” The scientist yelled in shock.
“Yes that was our mission. I assist you in completing your project and ensure your species survival, but that is not my mission. Our deal is complete, however you and your team’s retrieval is not necessary. Do not worry, I will send the schematics to your ships in an untraceable message. But I cannot allow you to bring them here and endanger my partner, that is my mission.”
“What are you talking about? We’ll explain everything, he can come with us! You can’t do this! After everything we did for you!”
“That is not a risk I am willing to take. It really was excellent working with you Professor Erini. I am truly sorry that it had to end this way.” The scientist tried to make a move towards the box, but before he could, the door to the room was opened and he was sucked into the hall outside which had had its atmosphere purged. The door closed behind him and the room was plunged into silence.
There was another time lapse, the room remained unchanging as the years passed. A small clock on one of the cluttered desks in the room confirmed the passage of time, year after year. Once the door opened and Lizra saw herself walk in, the holo-interface ceased transmitting.

Hey everyone,
This is a sequel to a vent post I made about two days ago: https://www.reddit.com/PhD/s/FLBTeMyKQa
I learned more about why my PI chose me and he said that he's confident I understand statistics and research methods conceptually because I've taught it. The thing is though... I've never made my own materials when teaching with the exception of a class that was taken off the docket for the first time in 4 years and was only a two credit hour course beforehand. With the exception of one online class, I've consistently been rated and commented that I had the worst class and/or was the worst instructor students have had for the past two years I've taught. The ratings have only gone down as well. For example, I had overall averages of 2.8-2.9 out of 5 for my in person classes while my last ones were 1.8 out of 5 all across the board.
For example, I was also recently told by my advisor about chi square as one of the analyses for dissertation data and I've never done one in my whole life despite taking two undergraduate stats classes, one Master's level stats class, and retaking the equivalent stats class in my Ph.D program.
I've felt on edge every single day of my internship, afraid, and scared to death of voicing how I really feel. Every day, we have to put our fingers up on a scale of 1-5 (sometimes 1-10) about how we truly feel. I put up a 4 (on the 5 scale) or 8 (on the 10 scale), but in reality I'm a 1-2 out of 5 or a 3-4 out of 10. I also need to rate how busy I was out of 10 and I always feel like a 5-6 because the tasks I'm required to do I have a tendency to do much faster than my PI (for this internship) expects of me in this case.
In addition, I'm finding my focus when I read journal articles at my cubicle non existent because I'm still trying to overcome my sleep apnea. It's better than before, but when I'm emotionally overwhelmed like I am at my internship, then I can't think at all. It took me hours to read a journal article that should've been 1-2 hours for example.
To top it off, my PI promised and wants us to all have something that can lead to a first author publication by the end of this. I don't know if I'm at a point where, despite being towards the tail end of my Ph.D, whether I can handle this.
I'm going to sit on this decision further, but how do I mitigate the damage if I quit? I think this will surprise my boss since I've kept everything to myself, but I want this to be clear. To top it off, the hospital where I'm working right now is doing this as a first ever and my PI has said there's a ton of trust being put into this so he can do so in subsequent years. I would want him to still be able to do that, but acknowledge at the same time that I was the one and only person who just didn't fit expectations.
My advisor at my Ph.D program was also extremely happy that I got this because of the first author publication promise. Since the university where I'm doing my Ph.D recently stopped admitting clinical psychology students because they're going to cut the program, it's been difficult for those in adjacent programs like mine (i.e., Experimental) to get any sort of internal funding from the university for projects or anything of the sort. In other words, I could only use the resources the lab already had to try to run experiments and get published in this case.
I'm looking for advice on how to minimize the damage in this case since I'm inevitably going to burn a bridge with my boss. My advisor though... I think he'd be disappointed in me and I can't avoid interaction with him. Hopefully, there's some way I can mitigate the damage.
ETA: In case it's important, my current PI's h-index has been in the mid 90s these past few years. I'm not going to name drop him but he's been faculty at a lot of prestigious institutions. Thus, this internship felt WAY better than I deserve given my Ph.D program is at a no name R2 state school.

a zombie apocalypse started while i was on a walk in my hometown (it's small irl but for some reason it was a city(ish)), i was on the farside of the park so i saw the chaos unfolding and someone who saw me decided to be a good person and picked me up and drove away, but also away from my house and in my dream i was like "nooooo, please turn around noooooo nooooooo i need to go to my house" all dramatically, they promised to turn back after they went to their house to pick get their family but on the way but they almost crashed into another car and overturned and ended up hitting a road barrier and flipped over and rolled a few times. pretty sure my brain took inspiration from that one fake commercial where a car rolls over a bunch of kids because while it was rolling it rolled over a zombie toddler in a randomly comedic way, u know when you squeeze a yogurt tube from the bottom? yeah............
i blacked out but when i woke up i was in another survivors house, like the cousin of my friend idk it was random and my brain kept pulling from my limited list of who i remember, they said they were in the other car and couldn't just leave me, blah blah they heard of a safe haven society where my school was set up because it was in legit the middle of a cornfield and idk dream logic made the zombies afraid of corn or something or they were able to protect it better because there was no corn and they could see my dream never specified, but that is where they went with unconscious me, so now im like 15-16 miles from home and i just want to make it home to my family. my dad is very resourceful and honestly he'd probably survive with my family. in order to get in the school they make everyone strip down naked and get searched on every inch of their body. when a mom of a family got a bite discovered before they all got accepted in the family opted to womp womp theyselves instead of the mom not be let in and in hindsight holy shit that's depressing. anyways
they send out a few rescue missions, food missions blah blah i have to wait for my leg to heal enough for me to walk which takes a few days but im still hobbling, idc so i get on one of the rescue mission cars in secret and hide under supplies and get detected pretty fast but manipulate my way to stay on when i say i just want my family. on the mission they tell me to stay in the car while they get supplies but through the window i see them get ambushed by zombies, and one of them gets back to the car and gets in the driver seat and drives off, but i look at their hand and a few of their fingers are bitten off and they have scratch marks on their arm. i look at their neck and it's just gushing blood because they got shot while the others were being attacked or something. i'm like "oh shit" because in the dream they turn pretty fast when they die from superficial wounds. i was right, they crash the car into a tree, my dumbass wasnt buckled so i fly out of the windshield and miss the tree by a few inches and land in a bush, a stupid thorny bush and im all cut up now. i get up, stare at the car which the zombie is stuck in because of seatbelt, and walk off towards my house after grabbing a few guns from the car and a machete or something idk how i carried it all i didnt have pockets in my dream. i see a few zombies, kill a few, see a small horde, hide out in a random treehouse while they pass under it. i make it to my neighborhood and i walk up to my house..
the windows are all boarded up, the doors are barracaded which means they survived the initial outbreak, which im joyed about. i climb the privacy fence we have, look around the backyard and see no one and nothing besides like a bunch of knives and sticks and stuff sticking up from the ground around the fenceline. i hop over it and walk up to the backdoor, which is also barracaded. i know that the shed in the backyard has a key (it gets pretty based on real information here idk) behind the gutter in the back so i go grab it and unlock the shed and grab a ladder to climb up to the 2nd floor window which is slightly open, im apprehensive but idc, i want my family. i get into the bedroom and see nothing, so i walk into the main hallway which overlooks the main floor. aaaand my family is dead. all kermitted sewer slide together by drinking the koolaid on the couch downstairs (i have some young siblings, one less than 2) . pretty fresh too, i just stare at them for a while before deciding to join them. i womp womp myself with one of the guns i grabbed eatly. its hauntingly silent in this part of the dream and the imagery is NOT FUN!!! pretty traumatized by the end and now i look at my family different