Wonder Women

Issue Fifty
Written by u/VoidKiller826
Edited by u/Predaplant
Arc: Revelations
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Greetings, people of Gateway City. This is your new peacekeeper speaking. You might know me as the White Magician, a rather crude name, but I will accept it considering Man’s World's lack of creativity. However, you may also call me Circe, and I am here with an important message that your news station will deliver for all to hear.
SCYTHE is no more: their HQ is under my and the Red Centipedes’ command. The Commander and his soldiers are dead and buried, as you all wished to happen. I was more than happy to oblige you if it meant depriving your stupid President of her next chance for reelection. Any survivors of the prison break are being hunted down by the people they locked in cages, who are more than happy to round them up as they once had been themselves.
But none of that’s important, for this recording is only to be heard by one person: Olympos, Wonder Girl, or whatever the fuck new title name you want to be called. This message is for you: You are to surrender yourself to me here in SCYTHE HQ in the next five hours, and in turn, I will not destroy this piss-end of a city. If you fail, I promise you, I will make Coast City look like a picnic by the time I finish with Gateway.
That cow you call Wonder Woman is dead, and I will make sure everyone else will follow her if you don’t comply with my request.
Your mentor learned a valuable lesson when she tested my patience.
*************************************************************
Spears Apartment - Gateway City:
[...President Cale has announced the complete closure of all access to Gateway City following the prison break that occurred in SCYTHE’s holding facility hours ago,] said Cassandra Arnold from GateNews, the city’s main news station. [We still have an unconfirmed number of escapees following the message sent by the White Magician, but the President has assured GateNews a solution will be found.]
Vanessa Kapatelis watched the TV in dismay. Pacing back and forth in the Spears duplex apartment, she had the TV on to pass the time while Ares worked on helping Helena and Cassandra upstairs.
“Here,” Vanessa turned away from the TV to see Tanya Spears handing her a bottle of water. “Something for you to drink.”
“Thank you,” Vanessa accepted the bottle. “I would prefer a beer, but this will make do.”
“My mom has her wine collection in a locked cabinet,” Tanya noted, pointing at the kitchen. “She doesn’t know that I know that, but I can get you a bottle?”
Vanessa chuckled. “Thanks, but I don’t want a girl your age to be walking around with alcohol or to get you in trouble with your mom.” She twisted the bottle cap and slowly drank. “I needed that… it feels like I’ve been dry for months.”
“It’s actually been 3 hours,” Tanya said, sitting on the sofa and opening her tablet to look over the internet. “I hope what she said wasn’t true… about Wonder Woman not being around…”
Taking a seat by her side, Vanessa saw that Tanya was reading through the report on what happened to SCYTHE. The escaped convicts had taken control of the SCYTHE headquarters and equipment after killing many of the agents that had stood in their way.
Seeing the photo of SCYTHE HQ burning angered her. That place should represent the absolute shield of Gateway. Now, it had come under the control of the convicts that they were supposed to stop because of Aeeta Branwen. A name that had made her happy now belonged to a stranger who had lied to her all this time.
Memories of their most intimate moments came flooding back: their first conversation, their first date, their kiss, and the morning after their date in her apartment. It was a moment when she thought she could finally stop grieving and move on from what happened to Coast City. And now, that had been disintegrated into oblivion.
In anger, she crushed the bottle with her hand, spraying water all over the table and the floor.
“Shit!” Vanessa stood up, finally realizing her mistake. “I am sorry!”
“Oh, it's fine!” Tanya ran to the kitchen to grab some paper towels. “It’s just water.”
“I know it’s just…” Taking the paper towel, the two began wiping the floor and the table. “I have a lot on my mind.”
“I’ll bet with everything that happened,” said Tanya, giving Vanessa a supportive smile. “Your friends are getting hurt, and you can’t do anything but watch. It would piss anyone off. I know it did with me when the RedCent guys invaded EE Tower.”
“Yeah…” Vanessa sat back on the sofa. “But this… I not only possibly lost many friends, but I was betrayed by someone I loved, someone who I thought was the one for me…” she said, distraught, as tears ran down her face.
Tanya, without saying anything more, hugged Vanessa closely. Despite them knowing each other for only a few hours, Tanya knew that Vanessa was in pain. Watching her loved ones being hurt by someone that she trusted must have been a hard truth to accept.
The doors upstairs opening and closing caught the two’s attention. Looking up, they saw Somya Spears descending, looking exhausted, like she had gone ten rounds in the ring. As she reached the ground floor, Tanya ran up to her mother, hugged her close, and guided her to the nearest chair to rest.
“Is everything alright, mom?” Tanya asked, worried.
“Yeah… just felt that I might take that long overdue vacation…” Somya answered, leaning against the soft chair with a tired sigh. “Maybe we’ll go to Paris like you wanted, Tanya…”
More steps followed, and Ares, or Mars as he insisted to be called, followed Somya, pulling his folded-up sleeves back. Unlike Somya, he didn’t seem any different from when he went upstairs to help the Sandsmarks, but the few strands of hair on his face told a different story.
“How are they?” Vanessa asked, walking up to the former God of War. “Are they ok?”
Ares turned to Vanessa. “The girl has a lot of heart, far too stubborn to let a beating keep her down.” He said with praise, impressed with the former Wonder Girl’s willpower. “Her Sumerian blood will help her heal in only a few days, but it won’t help her mental wounds after I told her the news about her mother.”
Vanessa had a lot of questions about what he had said, especially the word Sumerian; perhaps Cassie was not simply half-Olympian. However, she focused on the most important detail in his explanation. “What happened with Helena?” She asked in a worried tone. “Is she-”
“She is alive,” Ares said, but his expression shifted, frowning, making her nervous. “Physically, she will recover, she has only a few cuts and bruises. Even a human like her can heal those.”
“But?”
“But it's the spell Circe struck her with. It is unlike anything I’ve seen because it is of her creation,” Ares explained, and Vanessa ground her teeth together when she heard the name belonging to the stranger who hurt her and her loved ones. “Whatever she used, it is affecting her very soul, slowly killing her.”
“Like a virus?” Vanessa asked, and Ares nodded. “Magic can do that?”
“It does,” Ares answered. “Magic can create a nuclear bomb if the user has the patience for it. And Circe is a master at it, one of the very best and most gifted witches on the planet, so making something like this would be as easy as making a cake for her.”
Magic had never been SCYTHE’s priority, but the Commander still made them study anything related to the subject in case they had to face it. Vanessa had never expected to see it at this scale.
“Can you break it?” Vanessa asked. “Find a way to break the curse from Helena’s soul?”
Ares took a deep breath, pocketing his hands. “It’s too complex to break. I will admit Magic is not my strongest suit, but even if you bring in someone knowledgeable, it would be a while for them to break her creation,” he explained. “You need someone at her level of knowledge when it comes to magic, and I am not the best person to face her in that department.”
“Then we call for a specialist, anyone, really,” Vanessa said in desperation. “If this is like a virus, a curse, then we bring a surgeon to cut it out! Maybe Cassie can use her Justice Legion connection, or maybe you can call someone for a favor.”
Vanessa's desperation was clear. She was willing to call for the Justice Legion, the very people she swore to go against for their vigilantism, if it meant saving Helena Sandsmark, her promise be damned.
“The spell is growing far too rapidly. By the time you find someone, it will be far too late,” Ares said solemnly. “The only person in the world who can break the spell without any problem or fear of failsafe is Hecate, the Goddess of Magic. She was Circe’s mentor, and she taught her everything she could about magic. No matter how complex it is, Hecate would understand it.”
“She can help us?”
Ares shook his head. “No, she has no interest in helping the world unless it is connected to her directly, and even then, dealing with her is the worst-case scenario because there is a chance she’ll side with Circe before she even thinks of helping us.”
“So what now?” Vanessa asked, sounding defeated. “Just let Helena die? Let Cassie suffer? Let Circe win?!” she shouted angrily, finally addressing Circe by name. All of this explanation from Ares told her one thing: that the Witch had them beat, and they couldn’t do anything about it.
Ares didn’t react to her outburst, while the Spears looked worried. Tanya, for her part, tried to walk up to calm Vanessa, but the War God raised his hand to stop her, shaking his head and giving her the silent sign to let Vanessa be.
“There is one way: it will be quicker if we act fast enough, but it would take everything from all of us for it to happen,” Ares said, beginning his explanation. “There is a chain link connecting the spell, from the spell caster to Circe. This means it can be broken if we force Circe to release the chain connecting her to Helena…” he explained, letting his words be understood by the occupants in the room before finishing with one last note. “Killing Circe would also break the binding if she didn’t leave any contingencies.”
Vanessa gritted her teeth. “So we have to make her break the spell, and hopefully she doesn’t screw us over… or we kill her, and hopefully she still doesn’t screw us over even in death?” she asked, and Ares nodded. “What kind of person is willing to put in all that work? Just for revenge? On Diana, who is long gone?”
Ares shrugged and turned to the Spears, his gaze focused on Tanya, his daughter. Someone whom he never thought he would meet again was facing him, without knowledge of their blood relations.
“Possibly,” Ares answered, taking a step back. “But if there is one thing I know for sure, Circe does not put these kinds of bindings without any reason. Whatever that reason is involves Cassandra Sandsmark and whether she will choose to make Circe break the spell or kill her, tainting her forever.”
Silence came to the room, letting Ares’s words sink in for all occupants, which might have been the same words he said to the Sandsmarks.
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The room of Somya Spears was quiet, with the only sound being the breathing of Helena Sandsmark lying on the bed sleeping. The room was spacious, with an expensive queen-sized bed as expected from an interim CEO of one the largest companies in the world.
Seated a few feet away on a chair was Cassandra Sandsmark, dressed in fresh clothes given to her by Somya after throwing off the bloody tattered ones she had arrived in. Watching her mother closely, Cassandra’s mind was racing, especially after what Ares told her about the curse Circe placed on her mother, slowly destroying her soul bit by bit until she was nothing but a husk.
“Dammit!” In anger at their situation, she crushed the armchair, tearing its arm off like it was made of paper. If she was stronger, faster, and had the heart for it, she would have stopped the Witch, stopped her from hurting her city, the people of SCYTHE, and those caught in the crossfire, stopped her from hurting her mother…
She buried her face into her hands, tears running down her eyes as she despaired. Everything she worked on after Coast City evaporated was ground up under a very powerful enemy out for revenge.
Considering Circe’s ultimatum, her city could well be gone by the time this was over.
“Artemis… please be safe…” she whispered. She had nearly had a panic attack when she heard the news of the Amazon heading to SCYTHE HQ to stop the prison break, and then… nothing. No matter how many times she dialed her phone, there was no one answering, and she feared for the worst.
She heard her mother coughing, and Cassandra was quickly by her side. “Mom!” she called for her, holding her hand.
“Cassandra?...” Her mother said her name weakly. Her skin was becoming paler, a clear sign that the curse spell was working. “Are you… ok?”
“I’m fine, Mom,” Cassandra answered, covering the bandages hidden inside her clothes. “We’re safe. You’re safe.” she said, tightening both her hands around her mothers.
“Did you… break something?” She asked, looking at the chair behind her. “You shouldn’t be… doing that… we are guests…”
Cassandra laughed, her tears falling away. “Sorry… it’s just… it’s been a hell of a week…”
Helena touched her daughter’s cheek, noticing the bandage on it. “You’re… hurt…”
“It’s alright, Mom. Just a few bruises,” Cassandra assured. “You shouldn’t worry, you know I can take it…”
“I am your… mother, Cassandra,” Helena said, facing her daughter. “Demi-God or not… I will always be worried… scared for my little girl.”
Cassandra’s tears came back. Seeing her mother remain strong despite everything made her happy, and she was terrified of losing her.
“So… my soul is cursed?” Helena asked.
“You heard all that?”
“Can’t not… with all the swearing…” Helena noted, giving her daughter a small smile. “You shouldn’t swear at people, Cassandra, especially those who are trying to help.”
“I know, I know,” Cassandra said. She had gone off on Ares after he explained what happened to her mother, and she might have overreacted when she put all her anger on the former War God. “It’s just… I don’t want to lose you… not while we can fix this.”
Helena sat up on her bed, fully facing her daughter. “Which is why… I don’t want you to make the wrong choice.”
“I won’t,” Cassandra said with a low tone. “I will make Circe free you from this curse-”
“No, Cassandra,” Helena grabbed both of Cassandra’s hands with hers. “That is not what I meant…”
Cassandra raised her brows, confused. “Mom?”
“I heard everything… from Circe’s spell… how it works… and how it can be broken…” Helena said, shocking Cassandra. “I know you already decided what you feel you have to do.”
Cassandra didn’t answer, avoiding her mother’s disapproving gaze accusing her. Ares said the quickest way to break the binding and the spell was either by forcing Circe to break it herself or by killing her, severing the connection.
But if what Circe said was true, that Diana decided to kill her instead of making her surrender like everyone else who faced her, that means there was no chance the Witch would submit willingly. She would rather die than give the satisfaction of admitting defeat.
Which left only one solution where she could save her mother.
Helena sighed, knowing what decision her daughter might have made. She held her hand tightly and changed the subject. “I have to tell you something…”
“No, mom. You’re not giving me the ‘Dying Speech’, not while there is a chance we can save you-”
“It’s about your father,” Helena cut her off, shutting Cassandra up. “Your real father…”
Cassandra remembered Circe calling her Daughter of Enlil, not Zeus. Ares said he was a friend of her father, which confused her because Ares hated Zeus, so it wouldn’t make sense that he would help out even if they were his siblings.
“Enlil…” Cassandra said the name aloud, and Helena’s eyes widened, her breath hitching when she heard the name. “Circe… she called me Daughter of Enlil… Child of the Sky...”
Helena took a deep breath, bringing her daughter closer. “Yes… that is true…” she began. “You are not Zeus’s daughter, Cassandra, nor you are an Olympian in any way… but you are in fact… Sumerian… Mesopotamian,” The elder Sandsmark brought her youngest closer and spoke carefully, as if worried that someone might hear them. “Your father is Enlil, the Sumerian God of Wind… and he was the kindest man I have ever known…”
From then on, Helena explained Cassandra’s origins as carefully as possible, pushing on even while the spell affected her. She explained how she met Enlil, a man with golden hair similar to Cassandra’s, who introduced himself as an expert in Mesopotamian history during an expedition in Iraq. They had become rivals at first due to their clashing personalities, but how that developed into respect, to eventually falling in love after a very lengthy adventure that sounded like the plot of The Mummy.
And that love resulted in Cassandra’s birth. He helped raise her with Helena for the first year and a half before he disappeared because he had Olympian enemies and had to leave them to keep them safe.
While she explained all this, Cassandra’s mind went to another piece of critical information. Her father’s true identity had never been the most important thing for her. But what made it important was what Circe told her about Diana’s true reason for coming to Gateway City. It wasn’t just settling in a ‘piss-end of a city’ the more she taught about it, the more she realized the terrifying truth behind her mentor’s reasoning for coming to the city.
Diana was sent to find Cassandra, a Sumerian Demi-God, the Olympians greatest enemy since the Titans, and eliminate her. The prophecy of the Godkiller that they had feared might have come from Cassandra, but all it did was start a long, personal, and bloody war between two women because of the gods' demands for blood.
And now, she, Artemis, and Gateway City suffered the consequences. Even after Diana’s death, Circe would not let her hatred for what had happened to her go, and if it meant destroying her mentor’s legacy, she would do it.
‘Diana…’ Cassandra thought in sadness.
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SCYTHE Sub Base - Industrial District:
“I am not sure how you were able to do it, but you somehow found an ever more depressing place than that HQ of yours. It makes the cell you put us in look like a five-star hotel room,” said one Pamela Isley, formerly Poison Ivy, seated in the middle of a large room behind a large table. Around her were what was left of the SCYTHE agents they had saved during the escape, all working to get the makeshift base they had hidden up and running.
Alexei Abramovici, the Bloodcrow of SCYTHE, glared at the former supervillain, not happy with her comment. He turned to one of his men and began barking orders, “You! Get the goddamn Black Room working! We are running blind here!”
‘Worker drones even without their Commander.’ Pamela looked on unimpressed at the agents. She had never been that sympathetic to the plight of cops getting killed, especially militarized ones. The once mighty and feared peacekeepers of Gateway, who went to war against all the crime syndicates and the Red Centipedes, were now a mere little squad that won’t be able to protect a mini-mart, let alone every escaped convict under the command of the White Magician.
“Man… the signal here sucks!” complained Miguel Barragan by her side, raising his phone and trying to catch any kind of signal. “Could barely talk to my boyfriend when I called him, and can’t connect to the internet,” he complained. He tried once again to call but he couldn’t find a signal. “Useless brick…”
“We are underground in a bunker previously owned by Neo-Nazis, Barragan,” Pamela noted. From what she had heard, this used to be an old RedCent hideout that SCYTHE took over after the war, using it as a smaller base in case of emergency. “Not receiving any signal is part of the appeal of the place.”
“Bunker, huh…” Miguel chuckled. The name Bunker reminded him of the super name that he picked out; the more time passed, the more convinced he was that it was the right one.
Pamela gave a confused look at his expression and shrugged it off. Turning to her right, she saw the silent Emily Sung staring off into the distance. Unlike Barragan, Emily had other matters on her mind. Whatever she sensed or saw back at SCYTHE HQ freaked her out, like seeing something she shouldn’t.
Just as Pamela was about to ask her how she was feeling, a knock on the large blast doors echoed around the base, loud enough for all to hear. Quickly, everyone felt tense, and the SCYTHE agents covered the door as Alexei signaled them to aim their weapons. After the news of the escaped convicts taking control of SCYTHE HQ and their equipment and weaponry, the agents knew that they were being haunted now by the convicts looking for revenge, so they were not taking any chances.
“Would you mind opening the door!” A familiar voice said behind the door, a voice Pamela recognized right away. “I have a bloody Amazon here, and I would like her off my fur!”
“Barbara?” Pamela realized.
“Minerva? As in the Cheetah?” Alexei asked, eyes narrowed with suspicion. “She could be working with them, with the White Magician.”
“She isn’t,” Pamela answered, glaring at the SCYTHE soldier for the accusation. “She would never ally with the psychos you had under lock and key.”
Alexei scoffed. “That woman got a cemetery filled with people who say otherwise, and she hurt the mother of someone I know.”
Before the two could argue, Miguel stood up and decided to take action. He extended his hand, forming a large arm construct from it, and grabbed the handle of the blast door. With one pull, he opened it wide. Barbara entered. Her feline form made some of the SCYTHE agents tense, and weapons were still trained on her.
“Quite the welcoming committee…” she noted in sarcasm. “Now, would you be dears and get this woman some help?” She adjusted the unconscious and bloody Artemis on her back. Her blood covered Barbara’s fur.
“Medic!” Alexei called for an agent nearby before turning to Miguel. “And you, don’t use your freaky powers until I order you to do so.”
“Sorry tin man, I don’t speak fascist,” Miguel responded with a smirk, and Alexei glared at him.
The medic quickly came to Barbara and guided her to a nearby makeshift hospital room, which had a bed and various equipment to help the SCYTHE wounded. Barbara went in haste, and gently, with the help of the medic, they placed the injured Amazon on the bed, her blood soaking the white sheets red.
“How the hell did you even find us?” Alexei asked as he and the others entered. “I made sure I covered all our steps.”
“You did,” Barbara noted, stepping back to let the medic check on Artemis. She turned to Alexei and pointed at her nose. “But one of you has a very special pheromone that I can smell for miles,” she said with a smile as she turned her gaze to Pamela. “Still with those rose scents around you.”
The redhead smiled. “Maybe it’s that mark you left on me.”
“More than you think, Pammy.”
“Christ…” the medic gasped, catching everyone’s attention. “How is she still alive? And how long has she been like this?” He asked, examining the injured Amazon.
Her armor was wholly wrecked, beyond repair. Her headpiece was half broken, and the gauntlets and braces on her arms and legs were dented and unusable. Her injuries were severe: open wounds, slash marks, and burn marks were all over her body, and judging from blows on her armor, she might have had a few broken bones as well.
“Didn’t bother to look at the time with some of the grunts that were sent after us,” Barbara answered, leaning on a nearby chair as fatigue finally set in for her. “But these Amazons are too stubborn to die, and I know that from experience…”
The number of times Barbara thought she had beaten Diana only for the Amazon to get back up and beat her back was many, and it frustrated the woman to no end, but now she couldn’t help but be in awe at the resilience of these warriors.
“Her Amazon gifts will heal her,” Barbara noted. “But I am not sure how long it will take…”
“I doubt it will take more than a few days at least…” the medic noted, bringing out some bandages and wrapping them around her arms. “She will need a miracle to even walk out of here on her own two feet.”
“Uhmm…” Everyone in the room turned to Emily Sung, who stood by the doorway. “I… I think I can help her heal faster.”
Barbara and the medic gave her an odd look. To better explain it, Emily brought her hands together, and a small flame began to form from her palm. However, they weren’t bright orange flames; they were blue flames, and they didn’t feel any heat from them.
“I developed this technique while training,” said Emily. “It's a fire spell that doesn’t burn, but it heals people. I first used it on Miguel when he hurt his hands, and it was instantaneous,” she explained, and Miguel showed his fully healed hand as if he was demonstrating it. “But this will be the first time I will heal someone with this severe of injuries…”
Pamela and Barbara looked at the blue flames with wide eyes. In Pamela’s case, she was told that Emily had powers, and from Miguel’s description, she had the power of all the elements. However, seeing it firsthand and feeling it from just that tiny flame made her sense there was power behind it, warmth, like the sun.
“Do it,” Barbara said, taking a step back. “At this point, if we need magic to get her back into the fight, we better get to it before we lose her for real.” She turned to the shocked medic. This was the first time he would ever see magic in play. “And you, guide her in whatever wounds need to be healed.”
The medic nodded. It was better than nothing. With his guidance and Miguel’s support by her side, Emily went to work to heal Wonder Woman, who was in a state of life and death if they didn’t work fast enough, all while Circe and her crew were out there terrorizing the city.
“What’s the news out there?” Alexei asked after the three left the infirmary room. “We are in the dark here, and I couldn’t radio in anyone with the pieces of junk we got. Not even my brother, who was trying to get as many agents as possible.”
“Brother?” Barbara asked before she realized who his brother was. Her expression became solemn. She remembered the Warhammer who stayed behind to slow Circe and her crew, giving Barbara a chance to escape with Artemis on her back. “The guy with the Hammer…”
Alexei furrowed his brows, noticing the change in her expression. “What happened to my brother?”
Barbara took a deep breath and began explaining everything that had happened: the White Magician’s true identity, her taking over SCYTHE HQ, her ultimatum to Wonder Girl, and finally, Anatoly Abromivici’s sacrifice to save them.
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Somewhere in Gateway…
With the loss of SCYTHE and their headquarters, the surviving agents didn’t have the necessary support from the intel agents in the Black Room to fight off against the newly revived Red Centipedes, now grown more powerful with the help of the escaped convicts, more than happy to exact revenge.
With the bridges closed off, SCYTHE’s weakened state, and Wonder Woman being presumed dead, the city had been thrown into chaos. Streets filled with criminals and looters taking full advantage of what had happened, stealing anything from everyone across the island.
Red Centipedes roamed the streets with military trucks, taken from SCYTHE after their HQ had fallen to the White Magician’s control, making full use of their hardware to hunt down any surviving agent, delivering the message that they were the new peacekeepers of Gateway.
“Let me go!”
A woman, a worker from Taco Whiz, was being dragged from the streets by a group of RedCent grunts. Taken into a nearby corner, the RedCent dropped the worker on the dirty ground. Their eyes had terrible intentions behind them.
“Come on, man,” one RedCent grunt said from behind to his buddy. “We are supposed to find those SCYTHE fuckers, not mess around.”
“You’re serious?” The buddy looked at his friend like he was crazy. “We’ve been locked for months in SCYTHE’s cells; we can have a few minutes of fun.”
“Please! Don’t do this!” The woman screamed, tears falling from her eyes, afraid of what they would do to her. She tried to stand up and run away but was quickly pushed back down on the pavement.
The RedCent approached the woman, who crawled away from them in fear. “Come on, girl, I just need to release all this stress after being locked up for so long!” He proclaimed, giving the woman a leery look before turning to his buddy. “Hey man, I can share! Maybe we can get someone else from the street-”
The RedCent stopped speaking, catching his breath for a moment after he saw his buddy lying on the ground face first, knocked out cold. Looking up, his eyes widened in shock when he saw the person standing before him. “You’re… you were supposed to be dead?!”
Covered in heavy bandages and wrecked NIGHT armor, and carrying a mace in his hand and a pissed-off look on his face, Commander Hector Hall stood before the RedCent grunt like a dark spectre coming back to life. Kicking the knocked-out buddy aside, the Commander looked between the grunt and the terrified woman before he hardened his glare at the RedCent.
“Stay back!” The RedCent grunt aimed his weapon, hands shaking in fear. “I said stay the fuck back-”
In a moment, Hall moved at such a speed he looked like a blur, cutting the distance between the two. With one swing of his mace, he smacked him squarely on the head, sending him to the ground.
Hall turned to the woman he saved, who looked at him in horror. “Go… get to safety…”
Without another word, the woman ran toward the exit and into the streets, away from the alley. Now alone with the two RedCents, Hall grabbed the knocked-out buddy and woke him up, making the man see the bandaged-up Hall looking down at him with hateful eyes.
“You… I want you to send your boss a message…” Hall began, making him face the Commander. “Tell the White Magician, Circe, that I am declaring war on her and on anyone who stands by her side.” He turned and walked up to the other grunt, who was crawling away from the Commander in fear, grabbing his bleeding head. He begged for his life, but Hall ignored his pleas. “And this, this is for my men that you Centipedes have killed…”
He lifted his bloody mace and brought it down like a hammer on the begging Red Centipede as his buddy looked on in horror. He lifted it up once more to reveal the man’s head was crushed like a watermelon.
Commander Hector Hall was still alive, and as long as he was still breathing, SCYTHE would remain standing to fight against all threats against Gateway City.
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Wonder Women Vol 3.

Previous Issue <> Next Issue

Not shared, nor my shade; but something to be weaved; just as the measure of disappointment became it's own solution. But I talked my way through things forbidden, just to find myself blind in bed with those who are dead. Clumsy, but altogether natural of course, because it's consciousness what you refer in the description, yet that's what we don't get a lot about. See your deeds the way you are seen, and then return to a restless place: and the question in-between sheets will be why. Well, I just can't motivate myself to work without hot bitches staring. And that's the truth. Sad but True
— Hearfelt comment for an instagram witch.
Del desprecio a ese descarte, no he visto muchas cosas. Así se pasa una más para las cuentas, y aquí otro más para los versos, por qué aquí no hemos sido vistos. Cuánto más querría uno, que sino lo cuentas ni mucho menos piensas: << lo de este pibe que cosa más horrible>>, haciendo eso lamentable, por qué en decirlo nadie ha mentido. ¡Es horrible! Que cara es entonces la cuenta de lo que le sale a uno vivir sin más complejos; mejor seria cobrarmelo, para así saber que de algo ha valido. Bloqueame.
— Heartfelt comment for a random supermodel-to-be.
The Spirit of Fire
Flames begone, flames in spite: their warmth I felt - so I closed my fist until I could feel the warmth of my blood in my hand. And in dreams Fire came up to me and said: who am I? And I said unto him: you are bound to my bidding, thus your name misery will be. But fire wretched as he was, got closer and asked: and who are you?
And I said unto him that the blood of David ran through my veins, as I was his heir; for the mother of God claim me from death as a son. So Fire tried me, and figured it out.
You are son of woman —said Fire unto me— but as Fire acknowledged the name, I extended my left hand, and took Fire by the neck throwing him into the gound. — You are going to lace yourself to the right hand of the beast, and you'll keep him steady, so I can cleanly take him down. And Fire stayed down, and with his forehead kissing the ground asked unto me —why would the heir of David do so to earthly man?
And I said unto Fire that the beast from the abyss had left no mother for God, so I was to leave none of his body left for his head; as I was going to make it bleed until the end of the end of times.
The Spirit of Earth
Shapeless and without body, but keen within her many numbers, Earth came up to me in dreams, and said: who am I? And posessed in spirit as I was, I said unto her, that God had made her maiden again, and that she shall become the coins that Judas never received, which were to become the due payment of man and women for the body of Christ. Then I extended my right hand, and grabbed Earth by her hair —which descended deep into the abysses of hell— and cut it short so the demons of Lilith would no longer had her gripped by her back.
You are now a woman, and I'm going to rise you from the grounds. You'll lace yourself to the left hand of the beast, and keep it steady so with one shot I can cleanly take him down.
The Spirit of Air
A dream shaped by written words, whispered down for years by the currents of this Montain, and it's requiem witnessed but by a few — the end of dreams. But from where I standed at the peak, I called upon the distant currents that went down, and asked them: who am I?
And Air came unto me as bird, which had thousands of letters for feathers, and in the tongue of dead men answered.
"Somebody who only a few will remember by strange deeds; as the burden on your back, is a past tainted by impossible dreams. You were a lunatic giving new names to folk, and folk never bothered to remember —so your name must be freak, as you died in a forgotten shack some short time ago."
And as Air said these things upon me, I called Misery —as I had dubbed Fire — and told him to get inside my shot. The burden as Air had said, became lesser as i took the shot from my quiver. And I said upon Misery; that he was to set ablaze this arrow, as I was taking down the bird of Britain, and that I would do so, so God would give the deeds of Earth some better names.
The Lord is making a bridge between the empire of strength, and the last empire of men. Now by God's grace, I'm making the tongue of free men, the tongue of Spain. You will be eventually bound to my bidding, and if not me, it will be to the one I'm preceding; for I'm giving you twenty years to attone your wrongdoing. Alas, now because of your wretchedness, my shot on earthly men won't be clean, for his left leg won't stay steady.
Your old name was apathy, now I'm calling you Cisma, which in the tongue of dead men means schism. So now by the will of God lay unto the ground and say the words you've been teached. And as the arrow blazed forward, it's bending motion pierced the veil hiding the secret ladder of men. The bird of Britain catched on Fire, and it's hollering resounded throught the ladders of the mountain until the depths of the abyss. A column of air turned into fire, then violenty erupted from the vowels of the bird, and the wild fire spread as a storm from west to east all throughout the five kingdoms of men away from its own fiery wings, with a gift of misery and a few words to say.
"The name of your woman or the name of your man, will no longer explain their purpose to a man, a woman, or God. Charred words written by thunder will now be the new ladder of men — but until then, darkness upon thee."
The House of Water
I head into the coasts, and the beautiful beaches in-between, to find the stranger who burns images in the skin of men. He is the stranger, and has adopted the body of a monster, and he is one who cannot be understood, so he went on to only go out home in stunts, for the burdens in his heart have become too great to bear. Through terrible pains he has given all he once was for an identity, and as I pick up on his past, i found familiarity in the feelings of his heart. Oh dear friend how we found looking in sadness to ourselves, after doing same but with different means, carrying into our shoulders the loneliness of this world. As you have in-skin the garments of the strange doctrine that I preach — I shall congrate you, for you truly have fought the world entire, for my doctrine is the words of those who shall defeat the world entire.
I may not have your strangeness in-body, but I have it in these words, and in the true feelings of my heart. And I say in admiration that there's no higher form of art, philosophy or religion: than those who perform the highest thing they can give a name about.
Now even within solitude, and at odds with what old dead men call God, I see you and I found strength in you, as I can see you are within me, and in that, you are within everything as it should be - as is meant in everyone who does something that touches the heart of another man. I call this the kingdom of God. Yet blind men and women will wonder how can the kingdom of God possibly be within two outcasts such as you and me.
_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Upong giving my regards and waiting for response, I found my way into a bench. It was a warm afternoon, and the wind carried the water of the sea. The bird of Britain came about down from the wind of north, and layed on the bench were I was sitting.
The bird asked: why hast thou become this?
And I said back to bird, scorched he was and nearing death, that it was me someone who was supposed to give names, yet for years I couldn't figure out one for myself. Then on went to being given a name, Alas all the wrong ones. Did Adan gave himself a name? - I asked the bird back. And there was no response from bird. Then I continued.
A man has the essence of his soul retained by what he is seen doing. Yet I did things nobody saw, so my soul wasn't with God but with something just as ancient, and nonetheless unknown by men in its true nature — then Satan as the better known devil, came about and pushed me into a hole. It was my own doing. Yet the things I did, I thought were seen. But nonetheless what I did was without contemplation on a posible return. Just as somebody who prints an image on their own skin. It's permanent. This is the essence of a memory in the soul of the man who's seen by others. But in the familiarity of a man who picked every irreversible decision like the Alien, I find myself feeling sympathy, for the man is still not what he has been seen doing, he shall redeem himself by what he decides to turn himself into.
Is this a way of saying that you want to get yourself a tattoo? Get a new look? - the bird mockingly asked.
And I gave the scorched bird no answer.
Then the bird said unto me: what about your career as a prophet, uh? And the things you said about returning with substance? Do you actually think this is substance?
And i considered what the Bird said, then I negated with a movement of my own head. It is not i answered, but i find the memories of me not making sense unbearable. For those mean the memories of a fool, un pendejo, an insane person, or both. And I will always try to amend what I don't do well. But now I wish for only one thing, and it is to be remembered as someone who makes sense, and who out of that sense, made good upon the world. I don't expect anything in return for what I do now, as it is merely an outlet to keep me sane while I finish editing my work. It's clear I'm too incompetent to be a competent influencer. As for once, I don't care about influencing anyone into what I think; but to perform what I think it's important.
Then every proverbial student is free to take classes so as they see fit, and to interpret such classes as their comprehension gives them grasp of what it's said. In such regard, this is what I offer now, while I make the journey to Madrid. And the bird tilted it's head so as to observe me with his left eye, then after a long impasse, it made a loud and painful caw, and finally flew away. Soon after the bird flew, I looked upon the stars in the nascent night, and confessed to them, that it was the memories of who we were, what often stumps us into wrong beliefs of who we should be, maybe even wasting an entire lifetime retained by that which other people remembered us as being. But we are not the owners of our own names, the place we go, and our destiny. That's the biggest lie the western world of hollywood heros tell you, as in truth is collective agreement what determines what we look like doing and thus the meaning we should comfort to, recalling that names are practical mechanisms to remember the purpose of things, their meaning, and how their motion is described in the world.
But making the task of beating that collective belief, akin to the Nietzschean ideal of the camel turning into the lion, so as to transform it's spirit and become something else. But if it's the golden dragon of all the huamn values which judges you insane, will you be prepared to wrestle with the entire culture so as to have your way?
As I layed my eyes upon each star counting up to the number seventeen, I confessed of being scared of those beliefs, as revisiting the past, became a painful deed — and as I prepared to leave, I uttered one wish on the seventeenth point in the sky.
Lord please grant me strength, the way you have given my friend strenght.
2.
The night deepen, while the sea tide sang its own song of breathing. Some time passed, and then on the stranger showed himself approaching at the distance. I waved my hand at him, and after the instant, he found his way into my bench while I welcomed him with an extended fist which he casually bumped - after the short acknowledgement the dark alien looked at my face in between it's cover of dark, and looking at it undiscernable in its true features, with suspicion asked.
— What is it that you want?
I acknowledged him as a friend, then mentioned my brief research, as I had come to know him as man looking for a job, yet nobody would hire for things mundane due to his appearance. I listened closely to the news, and came to understand that this was a man looking for a second chance.Then I saw the intent behind his doing, and two words came to stick to my own thoughts. The first one was <> and the second one was <>. I was admired.
In analytical psychology I figured this man was the ESFP —the personality archetype related to the performer and the entertainer—, possessed in an abnormal way by the spirit by which a person submits to it's contrary nature, seeking to integrate and find fulfillment through the chase of what's perceived absent. If he was the ESFP then doing the flip by following the radial axis of each Jungian function in the stack towards their opposite resulted in the INTJ. The mastermind. The architect. The genius yet awfully complex individual. That was the elusive spirit he was chasing.
But a spirit and a character that at its most pronounced embodiment in a person, would experience life as an eternal foreigner hiding from the light of other men. Such made sense to me, for I myself was the INTJ, and had at spirit the ESFP. Him. So where as this man chased the spiritual fulfillment of being a complex and deep individual, I chased the fulfillment of becoming simpler, so I could demonstrate with action the deepest desires of my heart. One who was born plentiful in means to be liked, becomes complex, mysterious and uncomprehended, meeting one who will be seen trying to make sense becoming simpler. For Carl Jung portrayed the anima and animus of individuals, as the sense of what its absent, yet deeply cherished an valued. So I said these things to the alien, while he silently listened to me.
— All of that sounds like bullshit to me. -Said the alien after some contemplation .— Sorry but the things you say, don't mean anything to me.
And alas for I expected such response, as if one thing was true about this journey, was that explaining the journey in and of itself would become it's grimmest task. I affirmated what he just said with a slight nod of head.
— These things I say and how they relate to each other, in its excercise are similar to doing stecheometric balance with equations in the head, but simpler I'm afraid. - Then I paused, looked back into the sea, and continued. — That's high school chemistry, but I don't expect everybody to pick up on it, nor like it, nor understand it.
— Now i have called you a friend, and where I came from we dub with this title the people we share destiny with. As far as I'm concerned, we are chasing the same thing, which is the hardest posible thing. We both innately understand that we are not home, as we want our spirit to return to us, and that's not what a lot of people ever honestly try to attempt in a lifetime; as such is anyone's call to feel complete.
— And very few people ever reach true individuality, beyond the name they are imposed at birth.
Then I looked into the black alien, and in-between his foreign facial features, I interpreted something familiar. Disturbance. And I continued.
— We have given ourselves hell as we lived chasing something hard, so we can avoid the same hell later on when we are finally back to our own house. This is a christian precept, altought a rundimentary one. Does that makes sense to you?
And after listening such, the black alien calmly looked at the veil in my face in silence. Trying to discern what my face actually looked like, but the night was dark. Then turned his stare back to the reflection of the moon over the waters, giving some thought to what I just said. I opened up my backpack, and drawed two cans of beer from it. Offered one to him, and he silently refused with a gesture of hand. I popped my can and gave it a sip, while I myself stared at the tides coming in and out of the shore.
— If you wan't a tattoo, we can work that out. But this sounds annoyingly familiar, and my interest is not religious. Are you religious?
I nodded in affirmation, and complemented saying. — But my doctrine is something nobody has heard nor seen. For its aim, is doing as Christ said, in perfect means. Yet its true that the teaching fits you, as it's the teaching of the future man; and there's nothing in common between the current man and the future man, as they may very well be different species. This is the precept of evolution.
The alien seemed surprised.
— These two men don't know each other, for the current man doesn't know where the future man comes from, for he himself doesn't know where he is going. Yet in deep realization of your own artistic concept, I think you might want new ideas to meet with your appearance. So tell me, are you curious about what truly happens to a man after he dies? Do you want to learn how to read someone's mind? Do you want to blast with words of fire the hearts of an amazed crowd?
But the black alien broke his calm contemplation of what I was saying, and slighty disturbed, aggressively rebuked after hearing such.
— But you mentioned 'Christ', so you must be christian. How can a christian even say anything interesting in this current time? Last time I asked, their sayings were dreaded by restriction - so why would anyone condemn themselves to a life of bore? Are you a christian?
And I nodded after the question, in silence. Admittedly, for I knew what the problem was with being what I was, and my new companion was bang on identifying it. Made a pause, then raised my sight to where it met with the sky and the stars in it, and I said back to him.
— I am, but not one of a type you have ever seen, for the Christ that comes, is a Christ of art.
2.
The riptide sang, in its secret dialect of earth and sea. I looked upon the coast, turned an eye blind, and saw the ocean as the scorpio, and the land as the taurus; as it was the struggle between two lovers, never meant to consume each other. Ideal love then - yet not to confuse with this partnership as it was whimsilcally tied by the means in which i arranged my current conversation; for my lady somewhere waited for me. Then i allowed my eyes to rest still.
The alien looked upon me, undiscernable in my intentions, and again figured for himself that my interest towards him wasn’t clear. In suspicion, and after the moment he collected his thoughts asked “In your weird words you dubbed me performer, so what is it exactly that you wan’t from me. To me it seems like you are gathering people for some form of religious clown show. When you forced this meeting upon me, was this a proposal you thought i would find amusement in?”. And after the statement my own stare wandered in my conversation partner. While as he had his say, i returned to my can of beer, and finished it with a long gulp. Tempered in an unwillingness to fall to my new found friend irritation, i said within my own thoughts: “The alien looks easy going, but he is barbed in wit”.
Then i opened the can of beer that the stranger rejected; the loud pop resounded in the relative silence, interrupting for a moment the steady chorus of the sea. Gave it a long sip, and said.
– Theres no proposal in place yet. But im certain of something, and that is that both of us are messed individuals which reached the bottom doing the same thing - but the way my understandment of the human soul goes: two people can act by mere interaction as reactives to each other, creating a new chemical compound after the fact.
– This new psychology is very much like chemistry. But it is not my intention to draw you into something, but to pull myself out of this «something» by doing right on another person and maybe that person reflecting the good back on me. I just need a conversation partner, thats all. And i will do this with you, and with many people more. Presidents included.
The alien reflected on it, and after the hiatus of a long standing position of suspicion he finally gave in, and eased up with a slight smile. A strange smile of relief. But the smile, was all too familiar for me, as i realized the man was a tortured individual: a person in long standing pain. I smiled back the way he did, and continued.
– Our pain has a common name, and is a name that can be written with words unfortunately. It’s the devilish mother of all spiritual ills and its foundation, rests at the concept of a past that wasnt solved. It’s called «inadequeacy», and for people like you and me, understanding one day that such inadecuacy had to be solved by our own means, lead us into an act where our name changed as the changes in our cover up act to solve our inadequacy did.
– We never honored the past or the present in our pursuit, as we desired in passion to find solution to the present, by matching it into the idealization of some future without ever realizing that the old or present essence of ones being would be crushed into non existance by said future.
– Then we found the realization of that new name, only to understand that its demands became a tyranny on the other faces of our soul: as our soul is not something that can be undestood in unity, but something that conceives in the beginning in multiple things which try to give shape to one thing. Theres many people in a village, and our minds, are no exception.
— But happiness is only achieved by those who have their soul entire - or those who are the same person regardless of the context and scenario. And we gave to much to somebody that wasn't us, as our spirit took possession and lead us down.
– This is this the essence by which someone goes to hell, only to do one thing over again, getting an ever lasting pain for all the things that were given up chasing that which was absent. The more someone is forced into being shaped by the thing that was concevied in lust, the more the individual misses the place they used to call home, for that is no longer within ones reach. Does this makes sense to you?
The alien left me with no answer, and as he contemplated the sea, a tear travelled through his strange face.
– In this state of anguish, affliction rarely ever feels company, as the very individual condition that was pursued, became a full suit and persona to be forced upon and wear. Hell, is one lonely place man because we only learn to speak a language, that only makes sense to ourselves. But i think we can find a way out of it. This is why I'm here.
“Look, what you’ve done, it’s not something i can see the way you can see my own doing on me.” The alien replied. “Besides the way in which i canno’t see your face in this night, you seem ordinary — but what you talk and the way you say it, evokes in every word regret. What is it that you’ve done that has you regret like this?”
As the alien finished speaking, I emptied the can of beer, layed my eyes on the irregular grooves that my feet had left on the sand, and then replied back to him, after making a recap of the story i had repeatedly told myself after falling down.
“My story, is the fairy tale of a guy who makes way for the new coming of a new man; a better man for the world, while he casts disarray upon the earth: much to his dismay, at the expense of his own soul as the people who become victims of disasters, were ones who this man deemed unfair; cruel, evil, despicable in past. That was at the beginning."
"Theres a pile of corpses behind that character — even in covid time, people as close as the local priest of the small town he lived in, would break their neck after falling in the shower, as he had the slightest suspicion of their secret deeds. All clean deads for that matter. Untraceable to nothing but sheer randomness. Magic as it seeems. But were this folk truly evil people or even guilty of anything? You may ask - the man never knew it for sure, as he never had faculties such as godly omniscience to actually know it; which has taken a toll on him, as the burden of justice is an unberable one for anything but a god."
"Which leads to another point: spontaneously picturing random numbers in the head, associating them with psychological compounds by angular momentum, and actually being bang on the suspicion. Truth friend, in its stochastic presentation: it's unberable.”
“Consequential of such attempts to rationalize his own story in the eyes of people such as close family, my dude became clinically diagnosed with referenced thinking. Which are fancy words for schizophrenia. Nobody believed the story as it was uttered."
"Yet the consequences are there for everyone to see, altought not visible in their cause and effect by anybody but this guy, which lead him first into regret over ever starting his quest as a reformer; and then repent.”
“Now before he realized of this lets call it «curse», he preached for years over the internet as the disasters started to slowly creep up. He preached in a fashion parallel to Niestzches Zarathustra; Zarathustra meaning a famous philosophical device artificied by the philosopher Niestzche, who’s aim was to portray the best posible man, as something he dubbed the <<Übermensch>> ”.
“Such concept being the seemingly more elegant brand of a humanist ideal for a not so distant future: today - albeit a wrong one, for this guy was not dyonisian himself. The backbone of his framework, is analytical psycholgy becoming a chariot for a true understandment of human nature: and ultimately a facilitator for love within light: not within ignorance; not within darkness. Most philosophers today though would mock anything analytical in it's aim."
"Then on the guy preached and dwelved further into the relative hole of his own doctrine: and became imprisoned by what he didn’t got right at first attempt, making him in the process the character that Nietzsche from the comfort of his own writers seat, never attempted to actually embody within realistic means: eventually figuring out within himself the ultimate Nietzschean aristocrat: a magic pen granted by being capetian by mother: from judah by father."
"But Alas, you have no idea how common suicide is within philosophers after they finish their best work. As language, becomes the ultimate barrier for understandment, and then to ones capacity to feel love. Difference — true saliency in ones individual destiny— leads to the gravest posible pain. Ironic isn’t it?”
“Besides technical work with a new form of psychology inspired by analytical chemistry, as that drawed from his efforts during the light of day, five years ago, once he felt the urge to try to reach out to the world from a position of what he deemed was greater understandment: he primitively preached during night his new set of ideas for people to behave beyond the limitations of manipulative psychology, albeit a harsh doctrine meant to clear the way for a better product: Christ himself."
"This is not a doctrine a human being can actually perform, as such its christianity at its highest capacity to bear fruit. It’s an impossible doctrine, yet solves the oldest problem posed in the bible. All which sounds very sci-fi bullshit-y but actual problems started for the protagonist in this tale, when the preaching matched with terrible consequences. Not figurative, but within tangible reality.”
“So just as we talk, theres a small legion of hackers pretending to be doing internet social experiments while talking in an artsy matter: much in my own style, entertaining the exact same concepts - a legion of dangerous monkeys, i have no control over."
"One of the many unexpected consequences being this, yet prompted by something evil; ancient: essentially replicating what my protagonist developed and then preached over the years, while these "hacktivists" lay their attention on things and people, as they select them and enforce upon them strict surveillance, to behave properly. Then to destroy them, as they did in 2020 with many corporations and institutions.A bizarre combination of theater actors to my own liking, and then cyber-security demigods: omniscient in their claims to surveill, and they are - derivative such of another device of what I've done; which is to build a theater so people can make-believe that they are infact performing within themselves something greater - but that's matter for another story."
“Most of the corpses piling up flat out dead, have no relation to him whatsoever; they became victims as my protagonist took measures to fight back the monster he found at the foundation of the known world. This is not an elaborate analogy for one's own unseen capacity for evil, as i mean this: a monster as literally as it can be. For these things friend, im doomed as in true strenght, i have nothing but the pen i use to write down what i think albeit always at danger of it’s eventual inversion. I have no real friends left. Not one who can understand, or help bear the pain: as friendship and love are all gated by understandment."
"The full story has many more vertients, but i think i’ve done it enough justice. This is the predicament of an insane man chased by his own shadow as he builds a better man: one who delivers heavenly things, and then a shadow stringed to deliver tyranny as the very strings behind him make the better man stumble while he tries to keep a grasp of his own spirit, and then of his own soul."
"That monster behind, is wicked smart — and cannot be outwitted nor overpowered but anything but divine smite."
“I’m heading now to a new country, to try to get friends from the only institution in the world who knows and adresses the current times being, and who by extension, might believe me. And to clarify, these being the end of times; but not the end of the world. Yet now i myself have a damocles sword pending over my own head, and i need to do something about it before it falls.”
And as i said these things, i reached out to my backpack drawing a third can of beer from it — besides my own super laptop, thats what my backpack had: an infinite supply of beer. Corona, Indio, Victoria, Dos Equis, Heineken; you name it. I popped the can, and gave it a long and definite sip as i emptied it complete.
The alien didn't try to show that he understood, but stood still in silence, with his sight in the sand below and pressing lips, knowing by my demeanor; that these things as I've said them was something that I needed to do. Then he said: "I don't follow man. You say you preach and then disasters occur. Like a prophet from the bible?"
"Yes. Then I preached to get rid of the things that are actually making the world worse, and something awoke soon after, and since then; everything I do is subject to being misinterpreted due to the diffamatory action of this thing. Now everytime I do something, it can be twisted and turned against my original intent. Right now the hackers are my worst problem: I may have a degree in computers but I have no fucking idea whatsoever of hacking. I earn my living as an A.I engineer.".
The alien raised his sight to meet with mine, and after doing some contemplation on the fact, quite simply said: "You are insane". Then lowered his own sight, and raised it again to meet with the sea and continued. "If you want a tattoo, we can work that out. But either way and whatever parts of your story are true and even worse; the ones you may be lying about: you sound dangerous in a delusional kind of sense, and my life is hard enough as is."
I pressed my fists, knowing then the old same thing had happened again. For I had never forced anything upon anybody, and I was willing to respect that until the bitter end. Then I released the build up of frustration with a loud sigh, and after this amend, I replied back.
"I understand and respect it. But let me just propose you that if you ever want to figure what is beyond life as it's lived by person who has never seen what is like to be someone you write a great story about; you can pin me, and I'll show you what's beyond that door. Give it some thought."
The alien; The Black Alien Project stayed there sitting, spechless but calm, almost expecting something else to be convinced about. But pointless, for i knew that nobody can be forced into anything without bringing a transgression into play – and i wasn’t one to taint myself in sin if it could be avoided. Not anymore.
3.
I made the distance at steady pace walking along the shore, until i found a small group of pines in-between the liminal space of the beach and the land. I sat with one of the pines trunk behind my back, and drawed the Schizo Pills from my eternal supply of traveller goodies.
Quetiapine 100 mg, and Olanzapine 10 mg, i made a smaller fragment from the olanzapine pill, and swallowed both complete. As their side effects were concerned, they would soon knock me out of conscience, as this little ritual was my own way of calling the day complete – then i layed there, vigilant, waiting for my own drowsiness to claim me into sleep - but the Bird of Britan came flying from above, and stood besides me.
\Chirp, Chirp, Chirp**
I watched the bird, annoyed, as its presence had become an omen for contempt. For me and the death people of my past. I frowned upon the little shit, and said nothing. The bird made a little nod, while tilting its head in excentricity the way birds do, and replied. — Hey Andrew!, do you remember when you tried to penetrate your own computer to make a universe grow inside of it? I just wan’t to know something: did your computer moan? Did it finally learnt how to scream your name?
\Chirp Chirp**
Ignoring the bird, i closed my eyes and stayed like that for a long moment, hoping to make the bird think i was asleep. Maybe that would make him leave.
— Can’t bullshit me like that Sweetheart. So please tell me something; why don’t you command one of your supermodels; these muses, to come here and warm the bed for you. It's a cold night and you seem lonely brah
. \Chirp Chirp**
I opened my eyes, and irritated, pointed menacingly at the bird turning my left hand into an imaginary gun. I had already failed at something today, and wasn’t convinced i needed the memory of the things i failed at before. Not now.

• Hol’ up cowboy ! you wan’t to bang my bird ass when you should be banging a bitch ass. What happened with Tyrone huckleberry? Did you managed to make him as impotent as you are right now? —I held steady my hand; and tired, the tempation to pull again the trigger on the bird was growing larger. I saw red roses in my own sight, making a terrible omen for a migraine forthcoming. Said nothing.

— The glowniggers are out there brah. You may not be a hacker – and its true, but i took notice of your last words: so now the glowies are going to instead dreambooth* people into every posible kind of scenario of extorsion, while they surveil like a motherfucker. Like you dream boothed yourself for your little ahem "art project". Then we will use Suno*, then Sora* when it open sources. Are you going to protect your hoes?
Said nothing.

• Alright cowboy, i will give meaning to that revelations verse. What was it? Ah yes. Revelations 9:6. Every single person with an internet history will be as paranoid as you were in 2020. Everyone will be diffamated into acts of political terrorism! Aren’t you am-

And as i pulled the imaginary trigger from the imaginary pistol, an imaginary arrow in the sky descended with a blaze of not so imaginary flames on the Bird of Britain, engulfing the little shit in heat, and making it’s body explode into a gore of scorched viscera. As if the bird was in a microwave oven. I inmediately gasped as the explosion was too close from where i was sitting - after the conmotion, stared at the red and burned stain in the floor, and left my sight rest there, as sleep finally found its way into my restless thoughts.
"No longer care for love unless it's between good friends”. Said to myself. There was certainly a migraine coming, but maybe my dreams would help convince it otherwise. And as far as the hoes were concerned, Furious Angels would be there for them. Like the Rob Dougan song.
4.
Found my own mind after the slumber – asleep, then awake. I realized several hours passed - at least enough to wake up and witness the sun rise above the sea. But as for dreams, the light veil of their memories wasn't something to rely upon. But i did remember something, and it was some overtone in dread; an atmosphere of fear – and a kind of dread sustained in it’s inevitability by the urgency that builds upon dearth.
Now what exactly was it though? I couldn’t remember from my dreams, but ever since i falled to my own death i had always present in mind the future succesion of events that would follow when things started to go very wrong. Iran, the U.S, Israel - now whatever was it in the news; the outcome would be the same. A thousand more cuts to an already languishing economy. Make that corpse bleed, and then fall off a cliff.
As such things would be cooked, just as the bird of britain. The bird was still there though: just in pieces and roasted like the contents of a dropped KFC bucket would. But the little shit would return - as it always did. The economy? Not so much.
Yet i digress. None of the world circumstances mattered as far i was concerned – i had built a small and portable solar system to power my laptop, and my beer supply was well, infinite - i made myself sure that i had my needs covered whatever happened around me. Not tied to even a house for that matter. I incorporated myself and gave my back a stretch. The morning breeze coming from the sea evocated in my memories some time that had long passed – late childhood. I rejected those memories as they beared with them things i didnt wan’t to remember - then wen’t on as usual in my morning routine scrolling through my instagram feed, figuring if there were any new hoes to maybe motivate me into doing my God imposed labour.
Labour which was to either write, or to finish the House of Water — then after scrolling i did in fact saw a new hoe; i dropped a Faux Pas comment. Maybe she would play along, maybe not. Whatever. Sometimes I would put in a lot of effort to do a rhyme. But the effort depended on the insta-hoe in question. I know. Not the best of habits, but back in elementary school i was the kind of kid that would only get motivation when the girls in the classroom were present in physEd. And then i would run faster: whole lotta faster. Run Forrest! Run! Women love used to fuel me; and the habit sticked — and at the moment, i was kinda done with the idea of female trascendence. Would rely on their love, but not on their validation. Not like a simp. Fuck that.
Furthermore, what results did i demonstrably mustered after pursuing true egalitarianism and sharing it? Exactly. A bitch gonna do what a bitch gonna do, and so does the human female. After publishing the comment, I locked my phone and walked towards the highway, as i was planning to pay a visit to somebody long forgotten - I had kind of a schedule that i was going to follow, before taking the plane to Madrid and become hispanic Jon Snow from the walgreens Nightwatch.

Blachowicz here.
Kept yah’ waiting, huh? Heh, sorry about that one, but I can explain. As we all know… we lost a few good men the last few months.
That’s the brutal part of a hybrid war like ours: We’re fighting a foe unconventional, with half our arsenal tied down because those who grant us authorization are either in disbelief of the true facts, or scared… or already assimilated. That being said our momentum recently was a change not seen in years, and because of that… despite the losses we have garnered, we were close through a breakthrough. One last night Krol pulls myself and other two must trusted squad leads into the back of our COP. There is one of our equipment cages, surrounded by m-bitter radios, tripods, and several hundred thousand dollars of equipment he brought us around a simple worn table. Before us he laid a map of eastern poland… red markings indicating cells that seemed to dot the countryside like a pestilence, or used to… as deep gashes of advance from raids had trisected their lines, even if ones did pop up in the interior.
It was a back and forth; an outside virus infecting Polska at it’s heart, and we were the antibodies sent to drive them out. To which… Major Krol points to one of the largest symbol on the map: a dark red diamond, the NATO symbol for an enemy unit, deep inside of an untouched wooded area, adjacent to a mountain ridge. Several jagged lines indicated entrenchment, with red horizontal lines indicating possible enemy control… or our contested control, for over 20kms surrounding it. Letting us all look, the Major lit himself a cigarette.
“Sir, you sure it’s wise to smoke in here with the dive tanks just behind us” 1st Squad’s lead quipped. “Fuck off” Krol dryly said.
“Alright… this is it… this is the one we’ve been searching for for years, this is the nucleus my predecessor commander died trying to find” he says, pointing to it. Not far from Zamosc, it was almost touching the border with Belarus, the contested area indicating the Strigoi did operate over it… indicating one of the largest spill through points. “-It’s an old soviet bunker, made during their 1960s initiative it was designed to hold the munitions and manpower of several units in the event of a NATO first strike” Krol explained. “It’s gotta be massive then…” I said gazing at the map; “Didn’t the army demolish all of the old soviet hulks near Belarus to prevent any infiltrations?” 3rd Squad’s lead asked. “National Police took the effort over… and by extension, the Strigoi. It was halfway demo’ed before they burrowed into it and have been using it as a bridgehead ever since. This is it…” Krol said. He looked around at all of us, a sense of certainty I had never seen before as he blew smoke from his nostrils; “We’ve been fucking around in the dark for so long, it’s hard to believe we’ve made any progress, but this is it. With this gone, this will set them back over a decade and the momentum will finally shift into our favor… into Poland’s… -Europe’s”.
I swear there was almost a flash of joy, of pride in his eyes and a phantom of a smirk before reality set back in “That being said… we can’t leave this to chance, especially not something as important as this. We’re going to have to go there ourselves… clear through every inch of that place, and tear it all down, piece by piece. I will be straight with you all… when we go, there will be some of us that aren’t coming back. -but we are going… a whole generation is counting on us, and unborn billions rely on us to succeed”. We all nodded, a silent agreement washing over us as we took this upon ourselves. Echo-1 spoke up: “So… They’re authorizing a raid? How big?”. “We’re rolling in as a hard target, armor, explosives, and air support” Krol answered, taking a drag off his cigarette. “Aviation? How the hell did we get that approved, we’ve gotten attempts shot down four times due to those leeches” I said in disbelief. “There’s too much evidence here pointing to the human trafficking tied to their actions… We’ve finally got too much weight pinning them down, to keep the hammer from slamming into their necks” Krol chuckled. He looked around “Any questions?”. “When?” Echo-3 asked. “Three hours. We’re hitting them in the dead of night, only time we could get the birds authorized. Get your boys ready. We’re rolling out” Krol said, dying the cigarette bud out on the table. I can’t begin to tell you the euphoria we felt leaving that cage, as our men started arriving, they did so a lot quicker, and with their heads a lot higher than they had in weeks. As Second Squad’s lead we were going to be one of the main arms of attack into the bunker, thus I made sure we had a breacher loaded with enough thermite, charges, and tools to cut through anything. Our shield bearer we ready to go, as was our assaulters, grenadiers, and machine gunner. I double checked each and everyone of their weapons; ensuring the feeder paws of our squad’s belt fed were intact, making sure every breach charge we had was properly set and packed. There was going to be no mistakes, no slip ups. The margin of error needed to be the smallest it had ever been for us tonight if we were going to make the gore spilt worth it.
Finally… there on the outside of the building, the bright LED lights kept the darkness of the ensuing night at bay as the roar of our MRAPs could be heard. It was said once that war is 99% peace, and 1% chaos, they were right. The slow periods where the blood slowed and the doubt creeped in was the worst… yet we all kept it at bay. We needed to, there was going to be no backing down tonight. All three squads were up, all of us ready to go… we circled up… short stares and shaky nods telling us one things: We were in this together, till the end… the finish line so many before us had been searching for, we were being granted tonight.
A single set of footsteps could be heard as we turned, Major Krol stepping into the center. He took the last drag of a cigarette, throwing it down to the ground and stamping it out onto the damp concrete. He looked around… his chin strap blowing in the weak air as he met everyone of our gazes… then mine… then looked around. “I want you to remember every detail of tonight, as you have every other night… when you are situationally aware, scanning for the enemy, liberating the subjugated, I want you to remember the sting of anxiety, the shake of adrenaline, the chill of the bunker, the heat of your weapon as it cuts them down… because tonight we are going to write every fine detail of our victory, their defeat, in history…” Krol’s words echoed deep into our souls. He paused for a moment, staring around he looked down… a small pause before he said “When you are ruthless in combat, remember to be patient, and reserved in victory. This conflict is for our existence… a lot of innocents have bled due to the mistakes of those who failed to listen, a lot of our brothers are now laid under because we had to bridge the gap of uncertainty with their lives. We remember them now… but in an hour? We forget them… when we raise our barrels, when we cut into those foes, and we liberate Polska!! This does not end tonight, but history puts everything in it’s place, and patience is the companion of the victor… All of our hard work will be cemented, no matter the obstacles we face in that darkness… no matter the demons, the blood, no matter what incomprehensible horrors, we will make them comprehend that to invade our land, to bleed our people, the justice will be paid in full… Load up. It’s time*”*.
The purpose in our steps was heavy as we climbed the back ramps of the MRAPS; Four of the heavily armored vehicles, one for each squad with an additional for attached personnel including our JTAC, the term means Joint Terminal Attack Controllers. With air support requisitioned to us for this operations, there needs to be a definite liaison on the ground who can directly communicate to the birds, and coordinate their fire and progress. I’d worked with many of them in the past, resourceful guys, quick thinking though I guess that comes with the position they hold of needing to quickly figure out what bombs to drop, on which target, at what precise points, whilst taking contact. He loaded in the lead vehicle with Major Krol… and soon, our convoy kicked off.
The drive was several hours as myself and my squad sat in the back of that forty ton goliath, the rumbling of the engine keeping us awake as the crap heater fought to keep the cold from the outside frost from setting in. I looked around to each of them, some were catching some sleep because even with the circumstances… better to get all the energy you can, than to stay awake for nothing. Others were checking their weapons… My gunner locked eyes with me, the same one from the village extraction… many of these men I had trained with for a while now, fought with for months.
We may have met on unconventional circumstances but those in JW Grom thrive on austere chance and create opportunity from scratch. I was pulled from my thought by the sound of a transmission, my peltors were set up for dual comms so I could both receive information from the Major and other leads, whilst communicating with my team.
Krol himself sent out: [“Approximately 10 minutes from enemy AO…”]. As the rest of the squads acknowledged, I quickly sent out [“Echo-2 Copies”], before kicking the boots of any of them sleeping: “Look alive, we’re here”. Through the exterior net armor of the MRAPS, and the bars protecting the small reinforced windows, we could barely see jack shit. I reached up, turning off the overhead light as we all looked through our nods to scan the outside. A dark wall of dense trees was shown before us, making it difficult to see… in addition to night vision capabilities we had also requisitioned ourselves some thermals… when mounted onto rifles they were bulky, made it a pain to aim down quickly, but considering the supernatural capabilities of spotting our foes we needed every advantage necessary.
I flipped out one of my tubes… scanning the outside with my scope. I looked over to one of my assaulters who had been assigned to man the turret of the MRAP, seated near the view screen as he controlled the 50. Cal. Each of the vehicle turrets had been assigned a direction to cover… we took the 9 o’clock, the left flank. “See anything?” I asked. He shook his head; “Negative… wait… I’ve got two cold signatures, front left heading to our rear”.
I quickly scanned the far tree line, at approximately 60 meters off our left were two cold signatures… followed by a third heading to our front… then another. They were surrounding us, moving at speeds so fast I could barely keep my reticle on them. Is this what the National Police saw? What they faced at that lodge without the benefit of a foot of heavy armor protecting them on all sides. Then… suddenly. Something slammed into the side of our MRAP so hard, it caused it to shake. From over the leader comms, Echo-3 quickly shouted [“Contact right!! 4 hostiles!!”].
One of the Strigoi… so bold, had charged and slammed into the side of our MRAP. I quickly looked to see the figure, a dark blue mass of cold energy through my thermal, back away without so much as a stagger… as they tried to flee into the woods, the white hot justice of Echo-3’s gun fired at them, cutting them down. “Blachowicz I’ve got a few breaking for our vic” my man on the turret called out, I spun around, spotting out the window.
Just then, Major Krol announced [“weapons free, watch and shoot for targets of opportunity…”]. I turned to him… “take those fuckers out-”. Without hesitation my vic’s turret began to quickly target them, and through the darkness I saw a stream of outgoing fire bisect one of them, the ISR of the black blood freaking out the optic so badly it didn’t know what temperature to register it as… but it did register it. As another was cut down, one broke through the tree line and latched onto the side of our MRAP. The thing tore at one of the outer net armor panels, usually made to stop RPGs. It grabbed at the bars near the windows, tearing one off… I lowered my rifle as we locked eyes through the reinforced window.
The thing… the Strigoi looked at me, skin cracked as putrefied muscle fibers seemed to leak through dead flesh. It’s teeth were corroded and worn down to sharp fragments, alongside newly mutated fangs that messily protrude from the jaws. Even through the thick walls of the MRAP I could hear it’s roar, as it then tried to punch it’s way through… it cracked the outer coating of the vehicle… but it wasn’t getting anywhere near. My machine gunner, seated next to me, seemed to chuckle at the sight, quippily saying “Yeah… fuck you too”. It’s then our vehicle lurched upwards, as we began to climb the small incline of the bunker. I knew the layout, mapped it in our head, the main entrance was built into the rocky side of an old cliff meaning we could easily set up a defensive perimeter around it, a horseshoe. Krol’s vehicle was first, taking to the right as Echo-3’s MRAP followed. My vehicle, third, left the incline and took a left and… that’s where things got complicated.
We’re still trying to work out what happened but… from what Joakim says his drone captured. Right when the MRAP turned, several of the monsters quickly slammed into the side of the vehicle, as another more bulkier one, pushed at it’s undercarriage. The result.. Was the 40 ton armored vehicle tipped over. It wasn’t uncommon, hell in some cases a well placed IED, a good shot with a recoilless rifle, have been known to tip over Oshkoshs and Maxpros all the time. But this beast? Needless to say we barely had a second to comprehend it as it leaned to the left; “Grab on to something-” is all I had time to shout. A mess of gear and men spilled onto one side of the vehicle as it slammed into the old gravel and dirt.
Several of my assaulters, my grenadier planted right ontop of myself and the others as we came to a stop. Someone’s knee slammed directly into the side of my skull, causing me to dazily bob in and out of consciousness as my face was smushed against the glass of one of the windows.
Through my peltors, the other squads were erratic;
[“Echo-2’s vehicle is down!!”].
[“Echo-3 to Echo-2… Echo-3 to Echo-2…”].
Krol’s voice came through the comms;
[“Echo-Lead to Echo-2… Fuc-... Echo-1 secure Echo 2’s flank, Echo-3”].
[“Echo-3 to other units, they’re spilling through, I’ve got several enemy combatants converging on Echo-2’s vehicle”].
I pushed the legs of my grenadier off my head as I fought to my hands and knees, unfucking my nods as I looked around… “Fuck it… we’re going lights on, shield your eyes” I muttered as I reached for the overhead lights and flipped them on. The bright LEDs bathed the inside of the vehicle as we all gained our bearings, a mess of multicam, gear, and weapons as we quickly pushed each other off. My gunner caught as he fought to realign his promask, from what I gathered one of the assaulters had landed directly into his gun, pushing it directly into his jugular, as pulled back at the rubber and coughed, freeing up his esophagus. We didn’t have time to think however… the sound of bending metal caught our attention… as the back ramp door of the MRAP was ripped clean off. I could barely believe it but as the white light of the MRAP’s interior poured to the outside, a hulking mass leaned in, the dead flesh on it’s face nearly fallen off as the hideous Strigoi leaned inside.
Without hesitation I aimed took aim, yelling “Keep to the deck!!” to any of those inbetween myself and the invader as I opened fire. A burst of full auto fire tore through it’s collar and neck, my men quickly clung to either sides of the fallen MRAP as a few more fired out. As the thing backed up, a blast of .50 cal fire quickly tore it to shreds, along with several others as I realized they were fuckin swarming over the outside of our vehicle. Echo-3’s vehicle continued to carefully fire on the Strigoi on the outside, the sounds of .50 cal ricocheting off the outside of our armor was enough to make the pucker factor set in.
[“Echo-3 to Echo-2”].
[“This is Echo-2, we’re green on ammo, equipment, men”].
[“Roger, we’re shifting fire, exit the vehicle”].
“Hurry up let’s go!!” I barked to my men, leading the way as I staggered out. I turned on my peq, taking aim at silhouettes in the brush as I began to fire. The sounds of machine guns lighting up the brush, as a sea of growls, howls, and incomprehensible roars fired back at us was the ambient noise of the night. My men quickly exited, my gunner being the last as he and I pulled back to the rest of the defensive perimeter. I set in my men to take up the frontal security, as 3rd squad took the right flank, 1st squad to the left. Major Krol and the JTAC were bickering with each other; “How far out are the birds”. “They’re entering airspace now…” Joakim said, already scanning his smart book.
I asked “What’ve we got?”. He then flipped through… to the NATO combined arms segment, quippily saying; “Apaches…”. This caused me to pause as Echo-3 turned their head whilst directing their squad’s fire “The hell… where did we get apaches from?”. “The Americans… they volunteered” Krol said dismissively as he took aim at the darkness, firing off a controlled trio. “Volunteered? They’re aware of what’s going on?” I asked.
Krol seemed to stop, glancing back at me before returning his focus “There’s a lot more going on than you realize, Blachowicz… Prep the breach, you and 1st are going on”.
I quickly pulled my breacher off the line, securing some thermite as the reinforced bunker door wasn’t going to go as easily as a conventional door breach would. 1st Squad pulled back, stacking up and preparing themselves to be the first in. All the while… Joakim gave his firing solution; “Alpha Hotel Two Five Nine, This is Bravo-4…… Type 2….”.
I snapped to my right, watching as a Strigoi managed to dark across the clear gravel field, only to be cut down by my gunner, the peq’s laser marking the burst as it tore through the beasts’ hips, as it hit the ground and still continued to claw, another GROM operator took aim and fired into it’s skull. Joakim popped up to his feet…. “Marking laser, high power…”. He then pulled out a target marking laser… if you’ve watched night operations, you’ve probably seen them.
The green laser than as it says on the label, marks targets. The pattern of which can vary… if it’s a point target, it’ll usually lasso an area, or remain on target until the target is removed with extreme prejudice. If its close air support, then it’ll be a line of the general area… and Joakim damn near marked the entire perimeter around us. He quickly pocketed the tool, turning back to Krol; “Don’t go past 20 meters unless you want to be liquidated”.
With that… 2nd and 1st stacked up at the door as 3rd squad took up the perimeter security. As Major Krol went over to Echo-1… I saw them. A single blinking IR strobe from the beasts as they moved on the far off horizon, converging from several angles… and fired. The sound of the Apache’s main gun, the M230, truly sounds like the hammer of god… the 30mm cannon shot through the dark sky, lighting it up as we saw three incoming streams tear up the woods. Only then as the sound broke did we start to hear their rotors as they broke and began to circle, firing again… then… Joakim dipped his head and looked to Krol; [“Foxtrot Mike, hang onto your teeth…”]. One of the Apaches fired off a AGM-114… a Hellfire. I barely saw it out of the corner of my eye as the Apache from our right flank fired off at a target approximately 200 meters off. A fireball lit up the forest as the horrendous roar echoed throughout… then went silent.
Echo-3 scanned the horizon carefully;
[“Echo-3 to Echo-Lead, enemy contact is starting to die down”].
[“Maintain perimeter, Close Air is to maintain fire mission until we are boots up, Break…”].
[“Echo-Lead to Echo-1, condition white has been met. Proceeds”]. I saw Echo-1 and his men quickly stack up close to the wall and gesture to me; Breaching. I quickly pulled my stack back against the wall as his and mine breacher quickly hit their actuators. Now under normal circumstances, it doesn’t take much for thermite to melt the locks off of a metal surface, in fact it’s a more precise took as alternative means get real medieval like saws, pry bars… we weren’t in the mood for precision, we need to breach their little lair, and drag them out. The sound of several pounds of hellfire burning through the metal could be heard around the corner as a sea of white and red sparks flew out… after several seconds, two of our men tossed a fragmentation grenade and a nine-bang through the opening… a series of concussive blasts and a large explosion rang out.
Echo-1 and his men maneuvered. 1st Squad quickly converged as we followed them in.
Stepping through the black wall of smoke, the dark abyss of the interior was illuminated in a white light as entered barrels raised. Shots rang out as several of the beasts near the entrance were cut down, though not immediately, rounds disconnected the shoulder of one of them, leading to their arm hanging limply by a single tendon as they roared… another series of rounds putting them down. What greeted us was a messy concrete hell of rust and debris, fecal matter, trash, and all kinds of obstacles laid in our way, our boots sticking to the floor. I thank every god we had promasks that night. I called my shield bearer up, 2nd squad leapfrogging ahead to take the next corridor as 1st squad checked their weapons.
One of my men mule kicked the metal door ahead, twice, finally the latch gave away as we tossed in a grenade. A horrifying roar was cut off as an M67 shook the walls of the ancient soviet mausoleum, frag and spall kicked off the walls as I moved in right behind my shield man. The cramped russian design meant there was barely enough space for three people, and that’s three normal people, not in 50kgs of kit, moving slowly and maneuvering against creatures of the dark. Still… we moved forward, my shield bearer and I pushing the pace as two stacked of either squad formed on either wall.
As we passed doorways they flowed in… “Door Left!!”, “Door Right!!”. “Move!!”.
Two men entered each side, no gunshots, we moved up, a roar came.
“Door left!!-”. A series of gunshots came out as we continued to push forward.
“Two down!!”. “Confirm them” Krol commanded, as a series of gunshots run out in response. From one of the doorways, a Strigoi emerged… a female… clumps of hair had been ripped from her decaying skull, as her blooded eyes locked on myself and my shieldman. The skin on her hands had been tore down to the point where barely her bones and tendons remain… looking like huge talons as she roared and lunged at us. He fired off his pistol, though the rounds did little to stop her as she pushed against our stack.
“Fuck!!” he muttered, somehow her strength caused him to stagnate, holding up the advance… fuck that. I shoved the muzzle of my MK18 into her ribcage, flipping the weapon to auto as I fired of round after round. The 5.56 salvo disconnecting her spinal column, causing her to fall as I continued to fire, along with a man to our right and left as the stacks reformed as we pushed to the end of the hall. I fell back, dropping the magazine and loading a fresh one, like clockwork a GROM Operator from 1st squad took my place. Krol was beside me as we approached the end of the hall.
[“-Prep an entry”] I radioed to my breacher, a comrade handed him one of the charges from his back panel as he took to the door, quickly securing it. We all moved as far back as we could, look away, exhale. The blast knocked metal and wood in all directions, scrapping against our uniforms and kit as we made our way in and what laid before us was… it used to be the center atrium of one of these bunkers. Soviet’s loved their grandiose designs, the complex was supposed to be a circular room around a central planning table… instead. It had been turned into some sort of church. Runes and old eastern Romuva pagan symbols written in black ink and blood across the walls, old rotten filing cabinets, long receipt terminals. In the center… several of the Strigoi were kneeling before the table where someone had been tied down, flayed, and… shared amongst the group. They rose to their feet, we aimed our barrels…
The ladder amongst turned to us… his skin wasn’t cracked, or flayed, it was smooth… it still looked dead as the body on the table but it seemed more… accustomed to it. I don’t know… evolved? Under the surface however I could see it’s darkened veins pumping whatever cursed blood ran through them as it locked two blood red eyes onto each of us. It’s nose had long since been turn off, exposing boney nostrils to the open air as it seemed to smirk. All across it’s body were the same symbols on the walls, in every cell… markings of death, of rebirth, of assimilation… From behind this seemingly Alpha emerges another figure I had never seemed before… dressed in a white cloak with a deer head.
"So they've followed the trail... they're too late" the Deer headed individual spoke, definitely not from here, a dialect similar to an Americans but... aristocratic? Each word was drawn out, assurance as if they had everything mapped down to our actions. They didn’t sound like they were from Poland or the east.
“Doesn’t matter…” the Alpha growled… and then, it lunged at us. Quickly breaking from their ground it slammed into my shield man knocking both him and myself at the ground as it displayed an intense feat of strength. Around us I could see several of the Strigoi leap at our comrades… though to no fruitful endeavor as I could see one GROM operator cut two down, as another got into a hand to hand confrontation… my breacher, crafty as they were, reached back and slammed one of the prybars of his kit into the skull of the beast.
The Alpha however was not content as it threw away the 90lb shield, sending it flying across the room as it grabbed my comrade by the skull. I quickly kicked up at it, firing my MK18 into it’s body as the rounds pierced it’s gray and rune covered flesh. The thing simply seemed to chuckle… that was until Major Krol blasted away at the side of it’s head, the alpha turned… and it’s smirk turned to a scowl when face to face with the major. A knowing pause almost like they had done this dance before…
The creature lunged, locking up with Major Krol as it swung and slammed railing. Krol didn’t back down however as he pushed against the creature, hiptossing it to the ground even as it tore at his armor and gear. But the beast pulled, both of them rolled and the Major was on his back as the thing reached for his neck. I fought to a kneel, firing into the creature messily with my MK18, trying not to hit my commander… then…
Click. A sound sends a chill up the spine of every warfighter during a firefight.
My gun ran dry. I dropped the magazine, looking to load another, but the thing came up and with one of it’s claws, sliced deep into my cheek, through the pro mask. I could feel my own blood go flying through the air as I landed hard on my back plate, spitting out red iron as I quickly tried to adjust my mask. Through my fogged up, blood covered lense… I saw my shield man raise his pistol, firing into the skull of the thing staggering it with a roar. Krol came from behind, drawing his knife he sunk it deep into the neck of it…. I reached for my rifle, forcing a new magazine in and damn near punching the bold release. ““Sir, down!!” I shouted, Krol rolled away, back to his own rifle as I fired. So did my comrade as he continued to fire his pistol… so did the Major as he fired his rifle. All of us chewing through that apex predator of darkness, that beast… the leader that had been preying on our people for so long. Layer by layer, muscle group by bone… eventually… the alpha landed on whatever was left of his back.
The silence of the fight died down as all of us checked our surroundings, GROM Operators putting controlled pairs in the heads and nerve stems of any Strigoi laying around… I flicked my weapon onto safe, letting it hang as I pulled off my mask. I dared not touch the wound on my face… the pain nearly crippling me if it wasn’t sheer will pushing me through, and adrenaline doing all it could to subdue it. The sound of the apaches continuing to lay hate drew us from our moment of contemplation as the Major went back to work; [“Confiscate any info, burn the rest…”]. He turned back to me as I shoved my damaged M50 mask back into it’s bag, chuckling as he looked at the sight; “You need a medevac, Blachowicz?” he quipped.
I shook my head, barely able to speak as I muttered; “Negative sir…”. The two of us scanned the room as my shield bearer went to collect his defense implement turned 90lb projectile, we scanned the center of the room, checking and confirming bodies, until we got to the last one alive. His white gown was soaked in red crimson and black ooze, as his dear head was mangled from bullet fire and impact from falling on it. I swear… the way his blood poured out of it though made me wonder if it was a mask. I gave it no second thoughts as he looked to Krol; “You… you can’t stop this, they’ve already-”.
The Major was in no mood for communication as his rifle snapped up and fired off three rounds to the body, four the head. The violent yet quick salvo ending the cultists life, I looked down at it, then to him as he remarked; “Have your squad drag him out to the front, burn the rest”. I stood alongside him, looking down as the sight of it’s deer head was both captivating and horrifying… the curiosity in me wanting to look closer at it fighting the primal instinct I had to burn the thing to ash. “-Haven’t seen one of those before…” I muttered, thinking the Major had an answer.
He didn’t. Krol saying “Neither have I…” shortly before he walked away, was what truly shook my soul about that entire night. Victory stood firm in our hearts that night as we stood outside of the bunker. The night sky burning with fire and white phosphorus as we watched the ruin burn from the inside from the other side of the lot. In the distance, the Apaches continued to scan and circle the forests, no longer firing…. Which meant they had driven any or turned to glass any enemy combatants within a four miles, probably both, more than likely the latter. Echo-1 patted me on the shoulder as we stood there, soaking it all in, though Krol looked none to pleased. “In the time it took us to take this one down, they’ll be trying to set up three more cells… that being established…” he said, looking to either of us, then to Echo-3. “-Hell of a thing we did tonight, been waiting for this one for a decade, cleanly, maybe more… but no time to rest on our laurels… we’ll have another task for us as soon as we’re boots down back home” he said, to which his eyes followed mine, the body of whatever cultist that was zipped up in a black body bag beside the wheel of one of the MRAPs. The fire from the bunker casting an orange hue over it’s shiny jet black outside, something didn’t sit right with me… “That wasn’t a Strigoi…” I said to Krol.
“That’s very clear…” the Major said, shoving his mask under his arm and lighting a cigarette. “So… someone’s helping them?” I asked. The meer notion of it shook me to my core, sickened me. This parasite was already badly infecting Europa, Polska… if it was spread like this throughout the world. Krol settled my nerves: “We’ll be ready… It’s not just us anymore”. As he said that, I realized what he meant… my eyes looking to the Apaches as they started to form up, leaving the areas as their thunderous propellers melted into the night’s calm, unnerving ambience.
It’s been a couple of weeks since then, Echo Detachment has been busy. We’ve gained good ground against the enemy and honestly I think in a few years, we might see a much larger change. For now… we must keep going, that being said the Strigoi aren’t the only ones we’ve been combating. Recently we’ve made contact with of some sort of extermination coalition, they’ve known about the Strigoi, and others plaguing the world, the level of corruption and corrosion on society goes deep. Regardless a lot of the units we’ve been working with are apart of NATO, such as this “4th Special Forces Group” of the American Military. I don’t know where the road from here leads, but we’ve gotten momentum on our side, finally. Just remember… these things are out there, in every town, every city, every nation… preying and waiting for you to be alone, vulnerable, so they can take you and replace you.
Watch your back, and stay safe.
For now, Blachowicz signing out. Until next time

Hello everyone,
This story may be slightly long and I apologise for that but I'll try give as much detail as possible in the hope of getting an answer, whilst also trying to ensure I don't reveal my identity to anyone who may be watching.
I have a brother who is physically disabled. This is apparent when you see him walk and when you talk to him. His speech is slightly distorted. We're visibly not white English (this matters as I believe the situation may have also been racially motivated).
He doesn't usually go out by himself - he's usually with friends or with myself and my other brother, but he decided he wanted to explore Manchester (we're from Yorkshire) by himself to escape his comfort zone. I also kind of slightly pressured him into it as I want him to be able to do things for himself as he's not very confident without someone he knows around him due to being self conscious. So I feel like shit that the following happened.
A couple weeks ago after staying the night there with a friend of his he went out to the city centre himself. He was walking around and actually starting to enjoy himself (near the Arndale centre) when he noticed this (what he describes as) huge guy talking to two kids who are just following him about - the guy and one of the kids have cameras.
Brother walks off just looking about and going into shops etc.
As he's leaving the Arndale, big man and the wonder twins pop out of nowhere, walk up to him and start asking him questions about politics and similar things. At no point does he antagonise, swear at or do anything to them other than be pleasant. And yes, these are his words, but I know him very well, he isn't the type to be rude to anyone (even if they deserve it).
The guy and kid with the camera are filming and he must've given an answer they didn't like because after he says he doesn't know much about stuff involving politics but says he'd vote for so and so, the other kid (not the camera) says something like, "well you would say that wouldn't you, your lot all do it". Brother asks what "his lot" are, and that same kid mimics the way he speaks whilst repeating the question back to him, before the big guy laughs and does the same before asking where he was born.
Now as I've said, brother's voice is distorted sounding but all of us were born in the UK and speak perfect English. So he tries to walk away and kid with camera joins in and follows him asking why he's running and if he's smart enough to answer before turning to big man and going, "I think he's fucking rtardd". Big man laughs and says something like he assumed that was the case from the way he spoke.
This upsets my brother and he tries to push away big man's camera which is in his face. At this point they're all surrounding him screaming and he's scared. After getting shoved, kid without camera shoves him before big guy kicks him hard in the upper leg area and shoves him to the ground before they all walked away laughing.
He ended up with a slightly cut hand and a bruised forearm but no permanent physical damage. He is however very depressed about it as he did nothing to provoke these people.
Does anyone know how this can happen in the middle of the day and no one does anything about it? The police didn't even arrest the guy or even seemed to be looking for him.
Also has anyone had any encounters with this guy and his little gang before? How can he get away with literally recording a crime? Any other info that might be useful in getting this guy arrested or otherwise held to account? He made my brother feel unsafe, didn't let him walk away and then attacked him when he made the very smallest action to protect himself.
Thank you :-)
Edit 1: thank you to everyone who responded. Brother did tell the police who were about and they asked if he'd, "been fighting". Asked for a description of the guy which was given, took his details and said they'll let him know if anything happens. Does this count as a police report? Or do we need to do something else? I've never really had much interactions with the police so I'm unsure how it works. Also, I don't think little bro is up for any more of trying to get justice for himself, but I am so please keep the information coming.
Thanks to everyone in the comments who gave suggestions as to who it might be. Seems to be a group of characters doing shady shit who this might have been.
On my way home now so I'll ask him if he recognises any of them. Apologies for the late response - I posted this late at night, was at work all day and only logged back in now.
Edit 2: We now know who the individual is. Thank you everyone who commented and gave suggestions or even just wished my brother well. We're just discussing what the steps that we take next will be.

Anblitonoimz has four or five tongues, four mouths & five or em.
Th's firstsnd mouth urinaes fortso does "Coffee of a lifetime" Hes sputters, slurping up a cup of that good mud. "Splots dreams in thirty of our microwaves".
Ambipzonnzi doesn't cipher. "Let 's get born & roll down the hill, We get born & roll down the hill" His fourth one shoots ,in south-east yardings
"yearlong coffee beans, coffee plant. papa nu guineaa. Honduras. Lofty without a saddle". a third mouth wisses out sorta westishly through heavy phlegm
He twists to explore "Learn to drive, learn to walk. Crawl from town to town Babe. Crawl on all four wheel & kKaww like a Bird" anbipozond's mouth smacks on
"No point in crying over spillt milk"
"You keep saying that!". his northeast mote swirls in southwestard recounts
Eeps
from elswhere "Every auction is just the loudest, Heather". else now mutters a funnel with propose. "houses are birds with fourty wheels on a similar day". Insteebchlo raises his hand with a smile eager to answer the daily question. he starts to wave as he catches the attensions.
Noesteeblichavl has houses for heads, he sstarts jittering. "Your eyes are windows, someone needs to clean your windows. Your house is a head. Clean your windows off annd surprise the neighbors dog!" ... "hello"
"you're not driving to my off-grid parasite with that attitude". Ampliurpoznenzi shuffles his gums ,Crawling down the asphalt road on his hands & knees proudly. He might think he is an entrepreneur for a while or aprehend himselgf as an connoisseur forwhile.
"oh drink gasoline lika subaru" oensteeblih tweeks
"I've an appotite to put my teeth to the curb!" Ambeplerznz snaps & gnashes at houses
his foldy gob norths "One step at a time! Learn to crawl, Learn to walk, Buy some land babe, heyhow does much a hotel cost hahh".
"CAWWW" Apmliurpozoenzi's mouth makes a bird noise. having a bite yer own ear off & spit it at the coroner day.
"I think you will drink gasoline like my aunties subaru" houses heads repeats.
"Bvrruuuummmm" Ampliurpoznenzi's mouth does the car noise now. He's going somewhere, past the speed limit ,another four kilometers & he is gonna need his diaper change. Better get his wallet ready.
"You slurp gasoline, like ants in a subaru" Noesteeblo 'peats. Amblurdozinnzi pops into more civilized bucket. the house curls into a smile now. "look at youu!, you've become such a confident driver now!".
"C'mon, don't be so hard on yourself" Abemlurdozonz mremarks vaclantly. "So I could wear your face? Is it losing it's grisps on reality in here or me?"
Nostlible smeoes to him "Bro you okay?"
.....
"Ye get born into like machine & fall through like pachinko scottlander" . "Offered five things strange for new emergant traditions"
"Third tape recorder to the rotting egg translates the scripture, we're all just pachinko machines rolling down a hill arn't we?"
sorta just sautering around, peaking in through all the windows in the neighborhood, he's a freak tapping on the glass. Abmlorznonza is trying to climb into the garbage disposal, he wants to become ground beef or he wants to arrive to a wedding.
"Hey Do ies Yoeur Reaelity Okaey?". he mutters himself
Abamorbzonenz's large nose covers the porch in snot. He is smashed in through the windows. everything covered in snot. Dissassembles Th' Constructiom. "everything is covered in snot!!" He complains! "I SAID SEASAW. I SAID". Seasaw
...
"Highly Functional we are. Violences with the earthly gravitations ,Maneuvers to gnaw your tongue away at the glory hole ssir". Houses for heads whispers easy to his parole officer
.....
Ablimurzozna is inside the building, meeting all the wacky charicatures, really looking for something to snack on
"snooze on the cheesblock wiyhth a thousant feet of square areah". Zimberly's gonna need to fester up if she's gonna make it out of here alive.
-"come into my villa? withyer 6,000 foot long arms? I'll teach you the mannerisms" she stand combative with a toaster under her arm, holding the plug in her other hand.
The kitchen fatefuly occupied, Ablimzundz rushes square around & through down hallway, he drips the sweat "round nor square corners, I'm deduction points" his bin echoes offa chair in the passing.
... "I'm not just a petting zoo, I'm also a boarding school for chiropractory on the week-ends". Chochizialule snides from a toilet room "I pay money here"
Ambliuoznenzai screams, he begins to shrivel up & become hairy. "lettuce beef union, where did you go? lettuce beef onion. ".
"Let Us ..decode your one dimensoinal braine". presences Noestivbyuchevlo
another charicature interrups "I PLACED THE EYE INSIDE OF TJE HEAD & THE HEAD ON TOP OF THE BODY". Martin chimes over the loudspeaker. feeling like an eyeball inside of the tube today. just like all other days. an irreversible sense of time "I think I'll industrial my furnishments enjoy & pass out" He obviously has the plans.
"Do Not Touch Me". the subaru won't calm down.
"ellen my knuckle jelly is swearing. Juxtapose penguin my knuckle. Whatever fucking. My justice system swears at me."
Garvezetozald nouts at he,
"I can't relax. I'm on chameleon because my eyes move on their own. Indipendently from one anobther. " Amprulpozanzi won't shut up or he wouldn't
Nestavloblica tries to comprehend or understand "Autism is also a bell of god? Hey! Slow Down! Howhy are you aging so rapidly , in this metal bucket over here?"
Ampeliuropoznnz's wheels berate" DONN'T TOUCH MEE. I SAAID DONN'T TOUCHH MEE". He revs it!
"Hold it! Give your skin prison!" Windows for eyes shudders urgently. "Take me to your northern hemisphere! okay? okay?!"
Theres multiples of them
"No you No youKnow what You know you could Use?" they all say in unison
"AAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH" Ambluboznecviblo screams in whemchever direction heis headed ?
windows for nostrils speaks out loud "wel A well balanced curriculum would be dandy for starters".
Garvezetozald escorts ambinzopnonzor back to the pave "aluminum foil, very shiny in your bank deposit you know, But don't listen to me. Why would I fucking say anything ". He grumbles the offput as retreating it back inside.
ambilurbonznenance isnot having it. He's murking off in the anger pavement shoes. "Don't change the subject, I know you're hiding things from me".
Ambilerbeentsli "shiny aluminum foil heaps in my bank deposit". out of a different mouth or head after that whatever it said
.............................
intrusion layering dish. splattered withe batter. "Undetermined. loosely your own imagines, or yourself into they inretrospective periphany? who are you defying here? I did I hear (that right)?"
"I said build your little hhouse outthere, and& record yourf fairy shit, I stabbed you really hard with the fork" sends the not know says "yeah buddy, nascar teeth better be stoppin in to be stoppin tobe takina pittstop stop inn" Heaps he "STOP IT ,STOPP STIP. STOP IN THEs PIT FOR A STOP NOWW"
"are you been taking all oyour supplements skin-jaw pirate attorney?". eyuunNoesteblijhavwl Creoaks to the fiend
Pramblestabhon starts talk about lands all sorts and Louis Vuitton" We drop him off atthe nearest station
Scubs scenfen fenhinit. The cold touch of a stranger.
"Shd diedent mean to sdo that withe her subaru" "make the fuzzy worls ceawl owt but were notbhgoana takklk to you. Beat toyojar head with thea hmmm
The dufuzzys crawl out of the brain spot "COFFEEE AND TORTILLA CHIPS" Ambliubyonzunzi blares. He is crying the tears. "COFFEEE AND TORTILLA CHIPS" A second mouth of he shouts as well joins in.
"eyebrows, eyebrows jaws & toes, heavy finger-slips. uprightnowyou. Our gene pool is speaking~ (????) & having remained focused on the road this whole time"
...
"ofcourse We want gimberly to fall asleep at the wheel, make it look like it was an accident" Ampliunornzi agrees with himself "We want this we want that we want nothing more for ourselves" He's done & settled but restless & jiving. He keeps on driving, he worrys somedaybody will cut his brakes for him.
"No I think You betetetetter get onto bed on time " Noestelevblilpo bleyowabs abashed "sleep onfor more decades?, crawl on this earth, listen to the musics of the centuries?" nietstravlo attemptates their reconciel
Ampliupzinzunzi agleams unto the sedatiea. relloxed . enloungicated Dormitoitory. Parked something or other an a benchpt he rwests "If we don't chop uff all of the limbs then don'T throW uP on TimE." it complains. something seperate &.. he produces a small thermos from his (cupholder)
Ambliornuunzi Takes another sip of this coffee. He rolls the liquid around his tongue & swishes it in his mouth before hes swellow. "Brazil, Ecuador" He feels the longitude, He feeles the latitude, the coordinates of the bean. "South america, central america, yeah, You can taste it". The bitter wash is guzzled before it's swallowe. Amiburzobowenzanzha Licks it's teeth and gums. Functional piss distillery. With gusto he announce "Brazil, we need go to Brrazziill eyah". starts he runningh & He trips & smashes one of his mouths into the curb, If had he a tongue from there off bitten would it have been but lucky him, only smashing his teeth to scream & writhe.

Hey folks, hello again. I took a bit longer this time to update (Part 1 and Part 2 here) you but at least I bring good news: this weekend, I got the definitive answer from the prison's legal department, and now I know how much I can tell (and I believe it's enough). For your information, after this incident and my eventual release from prison, I haven't contacted anyone I met behind bars, except of course for my wife, Linda. The point is, even after all these years, this story has troubled me a lot, and since my first post, I've become even more paranoid. Finally, this morning, I went out to get the mail but as soon as I opened the door, I came face to face with a small untouched white envelope, except for two identical characters stamped on its surface: 11. Linda is sleeping, and I don't want to worry her, I'm at the kitchen counter thinking about what to do with this envelope while reliving the final events of all this mess, of what was really inside cell 11.
It was morning, and there I was in my cell, in a scene poetically similar to this. I held a playing card, an 11 of clubs. I later searched for such a card online, but found nothing. It was strange, very well made. Before I could reflect more deeply on this, one of the guards passed by our corridor, opening the cell doors for our breakfast.
So, slowly, as if in a trance, I got up from bed and put the playing card in my pocket. Somehow, the card seemed to heat up in my pocket, I could feel the heat increasing and increasing, almost burning my skin. It was a strange stupor, almost drunken, I could even swear I smelled ether lingering in the air as I staggered to the cafeteria.
I slumped into the seat as I placed the tray on the table. Old Munford looked at me in a friendly manner:
"Overdid it yesterday, lad? Your hangover face is priceless."
I forced a weak smile in response to Munford's comment, trying to seem normal despite the whirlwind of thoughts racing through my mind. The heat still burned in my pocket, an uncomfortable sensation that seemed to be intensifying with each passing moment.
"No, nothing much," I muttered, looking away to my food tray. "Just didn't sleep very well."
Munford seemed satisfied with my response and turned his attention back to his own meal. As I stirred the food without really eating, struggling to maintain my composure, I began to think about what to do.
My thoughts were interrupted when Francis joined us at the table, his usual smile lighting up his face. He looked at me with a questioning expression.
"Hey man, everything okay? You look awful."
"I think it was the heat, or maybe something I ate last night."
Francis frowned. Unlike the elder, he clearly wasn't convinced by my superficial explanation.
"Some of the guys told me they saw Bob talking to you last night. Did he do something?"
The question caught me off guard. All this news about the playing card had prevented me from thinking about the strange interaction with Bob since the previous night, but now the memories began to resurface, mixed with the heat sensation coming from my pocket.
"Oh, it was nothing," I said quickly, trying to sound casual. "Bob was just being a bit... Bob."
I felt Francis's gaze linger on my face for a moment.
"If he does anything, you know you can talk to us, right? I know he's one of ours, but that doesn't mean I'll go easy on him."
I analyzed the options for a moment, reflecting on everything. Well, now it seemed to make sense, a prank by Bob, or an attempt to intimidate me...
"There's... something, Francis," I said in a low tone, feeling tense about the confession I was about to make. "Last night, after the card tournament, I... I ran into Bob in the hallway. He was questioning me about the tournament, accusing me of cheating."
Francis's face hardened at my words, a displeased expression passing over his features.
"Cheating? And you?"
"I swear I played fair," I replied quickly, the pressure building inside me. "But he was convinced I had some advantage, and... well, things got a bit tense... He walked away, and this morning I found this in my cell."
Deciding to omit the encounter with Tulley, I got straight to the point, pulling the card out of my pocket and placing it on the table. I could feel it almost incandescent now.
Munford looked at the card for a moment, his gaze narrowing as he studied it. The heat emanating from it was almost palpable, a strange aura that seemed to envelop the table.
"Is that... an 11 of clubs?" he murmured, his voice tinged with surprise and suspicion.
I nodded, my own confusion mingling with growing anxiety.
"Yes... I don't know, maybe Bob did this to scare me, to show that he has access to my cell, or to try to provoke me, knowing my fear of cell 11..."
My words were cut off when the guard's voice echoed through the cafeteria, interrupting our conversation as he announced that the meal period was over.
Francis looked at me with a serious expression.
"We'll talk about this later," he pointed to the card. "Mind if I take it with me?"
I nodded.
"No problem, feel free."
We began our march back to the cells, and I couldn't help but exchange glances with old Munford. He seemed to hesitate on the matter, as if he wanted to say something but was afraid. I made a mental note to speak with him as soon as possible. Our yard time would be in the next 4 hours, and I spent half of that time trying to ponder what had happened.
I don't know how long it took, but I fell asleep, sitting, with my back pressed against the wall of my cell. The dream, or rather, nightmare resulting from this was a disturbing experience.
I found myself standing, walking through the prison corridors in a way that seemed endless. The walls seemed to close in around me, creating a claustrophobic labyrinth that I couldn't escape. Every door I tried to open was locked, and the sound of footsteps echoed behind me, as if someone were following my every step.
Finally, I reached a door that was ajar, a dim light emanating from within. With a knot in my stomach, I pushed it slowly, revealing what seemed to be cell 11. But something was terribly wrong. A man was there, his back to me. Disheveled, uneven hair, a hunched posture, he was crouched down, rummaging through something I couldn't see, seemed to regurgitate. Suddenly, he stopped. He slowly got up and then looked at me.
Somehow, I knew that man was that prisoner, the one who had committed those atrocities and painted the eye on the damn cell. I noticed something dripping from his mouth, forming a red puddle in the center. On the wall, what seemed to be an incomplete sketch of the dreaded painting was there.
I watched, hypnotized by the horror before me, as the man slowly raised his trembling hand towards his face. Drops of that dark liquid dripped from his fingers, echoing in the oppressive silence of the cell. It was as if the very air was tainted with that impurity.
Before I could fully process what was happening, he began to move towards me, his irregular steps echoing like the distant clinking of chains. A visceral panic seized me, preventing me from retreating as he came closer and closer, his distorted figure gaining sharper contours as he advanced through the gloom. I could now smell the terrible scent he had, not just as something rotten, but a pure and concrete smell of death.
"Who... who are you?" My own voice sounded weak and trembling.
The man didn't answer. Instead, he kept advancing, his empty eyes seeming to pierce my soul. My heart was now pounding uncontrollably in my chest, a deafening cacophony that seemed to fill the entire space of the cell. I was about to retreat, to beg for mercy, when a voice whispered in my mind, a distorted echo reverberating like the sigh of a ghost:
"You... can you see? The watchful eye. He wants you. He liked looking at you."
The sound of my own breath echoed in the silence that followed, a dissonant note of fear and desperation. I wanted to scream, to run, to escape this living nightmare, but I was paralyzed by the terror that enveloped me like a coffin.
It was then that I woke up, gasping and covered in sweat, the echo of the whisper still resonating in my mind like a distant echo of a nightmare. For a moment, everything around me seemed distorted and unreal, a fleeting mirage, and then, I startled again. Munford was standing in front of my cell, staring at me with curiosity.
"Are you okay, son?" the old man asked in a soft voice, as if trying to calm a frightened animal.
I shook my head slowly, trying to gather my thoughts amidst the whirlwind of information.
"I... I think so," I murmured, my voice sounding strange and distant even to myself. "I had a horrible nightmare... It felt so real."
Munford nodded understandingly, his eyes fixed on mine.
"Yeah, the situation isn't good... but I came to talk about that letter, earlier in the cafeteria."
"Oh yeah, what about it?"
"Let's just say I've never seen a card like that, but the energy coming from it, oh yeah, I've seen that before."
"What do you mean?"
"You know, a few years ago, there was a murder in one of the cells. This was before Francis arrived, we didn't have much organization, lynchings were common, and in an attempt to reduce these incidents, we decided that the main suspect, a newly captured serial killer, would be forcibly transferred to cell 11. It was one of the most terrible incidents I've ever witnessed in here. And do you know how that man was known?"
I shook my head negatively. Munford leaned his hands on two bars, bringing his face closer to the center of them.
"The Card Cutter."
A wave of shivers ran down my spine.
"He used to leave playing cards as a kind of signature on the bodies of his victims. They say he would choose the card based on the person or the method of murder. So, when he was put in cell 11, things got even weirder."
"What happened to him?" I asked, a bittersweet and macabre curiosity in my mouth.
Munford sighed heavily, looking at a fixed point this time.
"A few weeks after being transferred, he was found dead in his cell. Hung with sheets. And next to his body..."
"What was it?" I could barely breathe as I listened.
"A playing card. An ace of spades, if I'm not mistaken. And that cell... well, since then, no one wants to stay there. They say it does something to people, kills them."
The shock of Munford's revelation reverberated in my chest, trembling as I thought about what could happen to Guard Tulley from now on, or worse, what could happen to us.
"So you think this card is... a warning?" I asked, my voice barely more than a whisper, staring into the old man's green eyes.
Munford nodded slowly, responding more to himself than to me.
"I can't say for sure, but it's a possibility to consider."
I swallowed hard.
"What should we do then?"
He fell silent for a moment, as if pondering his words carefully.
"I have no idea. I guess all we can do is keep quiet; we don't want to scare the other inmates. Francis doesn't believe in these things, so I won't waste my time trying to convince him, and I advise you to do the same. Maybe if we just keep pretending that nothing is happening, things will sort themselves out. But remember: whatever this force is, it wants to take you to the cell, wants you to face the eye. Resist those urges, okay?"
The clock struck 12:30. Time for yard time. I walked with Munford to the yard, the sun burning our heads as we stepped outside, futilely trying to erase the worry from our minds.
As I watched the other inmates spreading out across the yard, trying to appear normal, I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned to find Bob, his voice low and threatening.
"What did you tell Francis?" he whispered, he was behind me, and I couldn't see him.
The flesh on my back trembled and twisted, the fluid of fear rising up to my brain.
"I don't know what you're talking about, Bob," I replied firmly, trying to sound confident.
He paused for a few seconds.
"You cheat first, and now, you make up lies about what I did or didn't do."
"I think there's a misunderstanding-"
"Shut up!" his voice rose sharply "I'm just here to say that I'm not a kid, I don't go around sending playing card letters or anything like that. I didn't threaten you with that thing, but now I am, and in a very direct way, and if I were you, I'd sleep with one eye open."
He was dead serious, and the threat was as clear as day. But what could I do? Confront Bob directly like Francis? That could mean he wasn't trustworthy... My thoughts were interrupted by the guard watching us.
"You two, no contact!" he shouted.
"No problem here, officer," Bob said, pulling me into a hug that felt more like an attempted chokehold.
I tried to pull away unsuccessfully, and the officer seemed to simply not care.
"Okay, but we'll be watching," he turned away, and Bob shoved me against the yard bars.
"Listen here, Bob," I began, my voice firm, confused about where this courage had even come from. "I don't know what you're up to, but I won't stand still while you try to intimidate me. If you have something to say, then say it like a man. Otherwise, leave me alone." I pushed him away with my hand.
"You're a fool, you know that?" he muttered.
"I'm not looking for trouble, but if you want it, you'll get it. Let's just leave it be, okay? If anything happens to me, I'll make sure some people know and-"
My assailant's hand closed around my neck, tightening. I squirmed, struggling to breathe as I desperately tried to free myself from his grip.
"Going to call daddy? Look, Francis may have that whole attitude, but he won't do anything to me, or any of the guys," he remarked.
I noticed the usual group of big guys who hung around with Francis, they were watching us from afar, seeming to distract the boss.
"He's getting out in two months...but honestly, I don't think I need to wait that long."
I couldn't breathe. Fighting against the grip on my neck, my eyes desperately searched for any help.
"Let him go!" The guard shouted from afar, starting to make his way down the stairs to reach us.
Bob didn't obey. I felt my body losing strength, so I did what I could: I focused my strength into a clenched fist and punched the bastard in the stomach, aiming right at his gut. And judging by his expression, it worked. I saw him lean over, his hands releasing my body and being placed on his belly.
I knew if I let it slide, he would come back and continue to harass me, so that had to be a definitive response to the jerk that I wasn't an easy prey. I lunged at him again, this time with a well-aimed kick to his knee, trying to destabilize him. He staggered backwards with a groan of pain, falling to his knees on the yard ground.
The other prisoners now realized what had happened, and soon their shouts in a circle were audible.
"Go, get him! Don't hold back! Finish this guy off!"
I lunged at Bob, raising my hand time after time to punch him. He didn't take it lightly, grabbing my right hand as I prepared to hit him; I could feel the pressure applied to the joints, my fingers starting to crack, and I could feel them tense, about to break. In desperation, I threw myself onto him with the only weapon I had left: my teeth.
I felt the flesh of his neck between the rows of teeth in my mouth. Without thinking and trying to loosen the grip on my hand, I pressed on the pearly bones harder and harder, feeling them slide against the skin, the metallic taste slowly emerging as the flesh was torn.
The scene around me seemed blurry, as if I were watching everything happen from afar, in slow motion. Bob's scream echoed through the yard, mixing with the encouragement shouts from the other inmates. I felt a mix of adrenaline and horror as my teeth sank into his neck flesh, a strange feeling of power and disgust.
While still hunched over that bloody man, I felt the blows on my back: it was the guards. Their batons striking time after time as the adrenaline rush passed, and I now began to feel the pain. Without resistance, I let myself be pulled away. Bob wasted no time and moved away, stumbling as he covered the wound.
"YOU SCUMBAG, WHAT KIND OF ANIMAL ARE YOU?"
As I was being taken away, everything around me seemed blurred, as if I were in a state of stupor. The voices of the other inmates echoed in my ears, mixed with images of the fight that had just occurred. I still felt the blood running through my mouth, dripping lightly onto the ground and forming a trail of red dots marking my path. However, before we left the yard, our warden arrived at the scene, and the guards stopped, my arm uncomfortably twisted behind my body.
"What's going on here?" His voice was calm, but there was an unquestionable tone of authority in his words.
"He... he bit a detainee, sir," one of the guards explained, firmly holding my arm.
The warden looked at me, his eyebrows furrowed in disapproval.
"Why did you do that?"
My mind was spinning, trying to find a coherent explanation for what had happened. I knew it would be useless to tell about Bob's threat, about the playing card, about the fear he had instilled in me. So, I found the most plausible words I could gather:
"He... he provoked me, sir," I murmured, my voice trembling. "I... couldn't take it anymore. He was intimidating me, threatening me, and I... I lost control."
The warden looked at me for a long moment, as if assessing my words. Finally, he sighed, seeming resigned, approaching me with slow, steady steps.
"No, you did that because you're an animal."
He gave me two pats on the cheek, then wiped the blood running from my mouth.
"Take this one to solitary."
The prisoners began to shout, a real noisy commotion. I trembled at the thought of being locked up there. No one came back the same from solitary, but at that moment, I really think I'd prefer to go there than what was to come.
"But sir," one of the guards said, causing the inmates to fall silent in an attempt to hear something, "The solitary is occupied..."
The warden frowned, clearly irritated by the interruption.
"Then take him to cell 11," he ordered, his voice cold and authoritative.
That was the final blow, causing the uproar to become widespread, with even some inmates needing to be subdued with tear gas. I could see as I was pushed, Munford looking at me, a worried and distressed expression on his face; he said something I couldn't understand amidst the noise.
With my heart pounding erratically in my chest and my mind clouded with fear and uncertainty, I was led by the guards towards cell 11. Each step felt like it weighed tons, as if I were walking towards the abyss. I could feel the stares of the other inmates watching the scene, some with expressions of shock, others with a mixture of curiosity and indifference.
Finally, we arrived, and by this point, I was sweating uncontrollably; they opened the cell and threw me inside. My eyes instinctively closed as I fell to the ground. I didn't want to look at it. I got up, still blinding my vision, slowly groping around until I found the bed. I lay on it and turned to the wall beside it, my face as close as possible.
Lying on the hard bed, I could feel my heart beating so loudly that it seemed to echo off the concrete walls around me. Each beat was a pulsating reminder of my situation. I tried to push away the thoughts, but it was like trying to hold back a raging river with bare hands. All the while, I heard stories, heard things about that place, and now I was there, cornered by circumstances beyond my control.
Gradually, I noticed the thick layer of sweat forming around me. I could even feel my pores opening, pouring the water from my body in an attempt to cool myself in that stuffy, hot environment. I couldn't help but think about the heat of the card and... about Francis. He still had the card. Wasn't that dangerous? I fixated on musings about it.
In my feverish frenzy, time seemed to stretch infinitely in that dark cell, minutes dragging on like hours as I struggled to maintain my sanity. Every sound, every shadow was a source of growing anxiety until somehow, I fell into a deep sleep, dreamless this time.
I woke up in the middle of the night, with a faint noise coming from behind the heavy steel door. At first, I feared, wondering what it could be, but as soon as I regained my senses, I remembered where I was, and frankly, nothing outside could be worse. I cautiously approached the source of the sound, trying to listen better, when a "Hey, kid, it's me!" sounded whispered.
"Munford! Munford, I'm glad you're here, knew you wouldn't abandon me."
"Ha, I know, I know," he sounded nervous, perhaps hiding from the guards. "Look, I'd help you out, but I can't get it open from this side, try it there." A small plastic rectangle slid through the door gap. A credit card... I remembered I had done this many times before.
I grabbed the card and started working, carefully sliding it into the lock. Each movement was made with the precision I gained from years of street experience, trying not to make any noise that could attract the guards' attention. My mind was racing, and the tremor it transmitted to my fingers made motor coordination difficult.
Finally, after several minutes of trial and error, I heard a soft click, and the door opened slowly. I could smell the fresh air from the corridor and was already about to smile when, along with the bright light of a flashlight, I saw Bob, now with his neck and shoulder bandaged, along with three more of his cronies. Munford was being held by one, who held an improvised knife to his neck.
"Sorry, kid, they forced me," the old man lamented.
"Not so fast, princess." Bob pushed me inside, onto the floor, and then he entered with one of his cronies, closing the door behind him and illuminating me with the halo of his flashlight.
"What's up, Bob, can't you leave me alone?"
"You wanted to settle things, didn't you? Well..." he pointed to his wound. "You just signed your death warrant! But first, I'm going to make sure to pull out all your teeth and make you swallow them."
He lifted me by the collar of my shirt and landed a punch with his heavy hand. I felt dizzy, seeing stars, curling up into a fetal position. His laughter was now a terrifying melody to me.
"Look at this crybaby. Where did your bravery go?" He kicked my stomach, and I'm sure he found it an ironic poetic justice.
His cohort laughed until the beam of his flashlight shifted away from me.
"Hey Bob, what's that over there?" He said, simultaneously pointing with his finger and the flashlight.
Even though it was on the wall behind me, I knew what it was. I saw Bob straighten up to face it, becoming petrified. He and the other, standing there, mouths agape. I waited for seconds, counting mentally and holding my breath, expecting anything, but nothing. Until suddenly, I began to see small puddles forming under their lower eyelids, dark marks... of blood.
The red tears started to stream down their faces like large crimson waterfalls. Soon, they began to make a noise... a familiar noise, which made my mind freeze as I felt my toes curling inside my shoes and my mouth trembling uncontrollably. It was the same sound as Tulley's. They were now allowing these moans to escape their throats and resonate in the tight concrete walls.
I had to do something. I began slowly to pass by them, trying to edge around. When, however, I was almost reaching the door, I could see their shadows turning slowly in my direction. The tension in the air was palpable, as if it could be cut with a knife. I held myself back from trembling as I tried to maintain composure in front of those men, whose bloodshot eyes were now fixed on me, full of terror and despair.
"What... what's happening?" My voice came out in a trembling whisper, barely able to make myself heard.
Bob and his cohort remained silent. They began to walk towards me, and in desperation, I opened the cell door and slammed it loudly behind me, not caring about attracting the guards' attention. As I looked around, I actually noticed that this was a concern I didn't need to have.
The environment where I was wasn't what I expected, from the prison corridor. It was actually another cell. I stopped for a moment, confused, only to be surprised by a figure in the center of it. A man in a straitjacket looking at me with a petrified smile.
"I've been waiting for you," he said. His voice was blood-curdling, sounding like someone scratching a chalkboard with their nails or scraping a fork on a glass plate.
I tried to open the door but it was stuck. When I turned around again, he was leaning, his face inches from mine, eyes bloodshot. I almost fell backward. He laughed. It was like the last time, he had his mouth covered by a sticky red mass that dripped, probably serving as material for the painting, which now displayed an almost complete surreal eye. He turned and walked to the painting, and then he regurgitated it again. Since his hands were tied, he used his tongue as a brush, finishing the last line of the drawing.
"This," he whispered. "Is my masterpiece."
I was trembling. I had forgotten Munford's advice, and now I found myself petrified, just like the others, staring at the eye. I don't know how much time passed, but I felt like it was hours, days... years. All in the blink of an eye, or rather, in a stare without a single blink.
I tried in vain to regain my composure. Scenes of horror penetrated my mind. Cadavers, bodies marked by playing cards. Criminals, inmates being violently beaten with batons, pepper spray, and all sorts of luxuries the police can serve, I saw gang fights, blood, death, and abuse. I saw people being killed inside the prison. Each scene of violence that each of those who looked had already witnessed. My legs were no more than reeds in the wind now, and I just wanted to run away and scream, cry, and sleep to never wake up again. I tried to scream but the man came to me, placing his foot over my mouth.
"Shhh... you need to see."
He repeated this indefinitely. "need to see, need to see, need to see, need to see"
With superhuman effort, I managed to free myself from the weight of his foot on my mouth, but I could barely articulate coherent words. My voice came out trembling and weak when I finally managed to speak:
"What do you want from me? Why are you doing this?"
He simply continued smiling, as if my words were just another piece in his sadistic game. Then, with a quick and fluid movement, he approached me, so close that I could feel his fetid breath and the metallic smell of blood dripping from his mouth.
"Your mind is a fascinating playground," he murmured, his voice echoing in the claustrophobic space of the cell.
I felt tears running down my cheek, and I knew what color they were. I stood there, in shock, staring at the large painted eye, while my entire being was eaten alive in fear and dread. I don't know how much time passed, maybe the entire age of the universe, eternity, who knows. I woke up on the infirmary bed. Wires connected to my arm while a machine reproduced the "beeps" of my heart.
I looked to the side, seeing the green eyes of nurse Linda looking at me, concerned.
"Are you okay?"
"You need to see," I said, not even wanting to.
She frowned, evidently confused by my response. Linda seemed hesitant, as if she were trying to decide whether to ask more or simply ignore my strange statement. I could see the concern in her eyes, but also a certain curiosity, as if something inside her was intrigued by what I had to say.
"What do you mean by that?" She finally asked, her soft voice echoing in the silence of the infirmary.
I sat up slowly on the bed, feeling a wave of dizziness pass over me. My mind was still cloudy, as if I were struggling to emerge from a deep nightmare. I tried to articulate my words as coherently as possible.
"I... I saw things," I murmured, my voice still trembling. "Terrible things. In the cell... in there... something... something is wrong."
Linda watched me with a serious expression, her green eyes analyzing me carefully. She seemed to understand that something serious had happened, but couldn't fully comprehend what I was trying to communicate.
"Look... you and the others had a collective hallucination in that cell... The director has already arranged for an investigation, but we suspect carbon monoxide poisoning, we've already talked to him about the lack of windows in that place, but it seems he doesn't listen."
I stopped, confused by that information. Was I hallucinating? Well, maybe I would even think that if it weren't for what followed. A man in a dark suit entered. He had a serious and intimidating expression, and he asked Linda to leave.
"Listen here, young man, you're lucky to have come back. The others are catatonic... and probably won't come back to themselves. That's why your cooperation is extremely important, and we need to know: what did you see?"
I stumbled, recounting as much information as I could remember, from Tulley to Bob. The man listened to me without making any expression. After that, he took a radio that was hanging from his blazer and said some words that I didn't quite understand, something like "Ceter," "Queter"... and then he took a clipboard, handing it to me.
"This is your letter of freedom. Our proposal is as follows: We release you from prison and in exchange, you don't open your mouth about the specific events mentioned here," he pointed to the clauses.
That was five years ago, and given my freedom, you must imagine that not everything that happened is transcribed here, but the most important parts are. I ended up visiting Munford a few times after that, and I was horrified to discover that Francis, on the eve of his release, hanged himself with the bedsheet. The old man and I stared at each other after this discovery, in a mutual silent understanding. Shortly after, they closed not only the cell, but our entire pavilion, relocating the inmates. I never saw Munford or any of the others again after that. My nightmares persisted, but in recent months they have been much less frequent, and I think I might be slowly healing.
I wanted to say that this story ends well, with my rehabilitation. A troublesome prisoner full of stories becoming a family man. And it would be, if it weren't for the last 15 minutes of this morning. I believe you may remember that I received a letter this morning like that cursed number. I left it on the counter in the living room while I came here, to have breakfast and finish reporting this to you. When I finished the last paragraph, I went back to the room, but now, it seems like the whole nightmare is back.
I felt the tears, transparent this time, forming in my eyes. In the center of the room right now is Linda, holding the letter, looking at something in it that I can already imagine. She's standing there, wet and red stains on her face, I can hear her whispering "You need to see... need to see," and by God... I can see...

Star Wars: Episode III - Revenge of the Sith (2005) Lock on to him, R2. Master, General Grievous's ship is directly ahead- Master, General Grievous's ship is directly ahead- the one crawling with vulture droids. I see it. Oh, this is going to be easy. - Oddball, do you copy? - Copy, Red Leader. Mark my position. Form your squad up behind me. We're on your tail, General Kenobi. Set S-foils in attack position. This is where the fun begins. Let them pass between us. They're all over me. - Get them off my- - I'm gonna go help them out. No. They are doing theirjob so we can do ours. Missiles. Pull up. - They overshot us. - They're coming around. All right, R4. No, no. Nothing too fancy. Surge all power units, R2. Stand by reverse thrusters. We got 'em, R2. Flying is for droids. - I'm hit. Anakin? - I see them. Buzz droids. R4, be careful. You have a- Oh, dear. They're shutting down all the controls. Move to the right so I can get a clear shot at them. The mission. Get to the command ship. Get the chancellor. I'm running out of tricks here. In the name of- - Hold your fre! You're not helping. - I agree. Bad idea. I can't see a thing. My cockpit's fogging. They're all over me. Anakin! - Move to the right. - Hold on. You'll get us both killed. Get out of here. There's nothing more you can do. I'm not leaving without you, Master. Get him, R2. Watch out. R2, hit the buzz droid's centre eye. - Yeah, you got him! - Great, R2. The general's command ship is dead ahead. Have you noticed the shields are still up? Sorry, Master. I have a bad feeling about this. There they are. Get them. R2, locate the chancellor. The chancellor's signal is coming from right there- the observation platform at the top of that spire. I sense Count Dooku. - I sense a trap. - Next move? Spring the trap. R2, go back. I need you to stay with the ship. Here. Take this and wait for orders. What's the situation, Captain? Two Jedi have landed in the main hangar bay. We're tracking them. Just as Count Dooku predicted. Destroyers. Drop your weapons. I said drop 'em. - Roger. - Roger, roger. Those are Jedi fghters all right. - Did you press the stop button? - No. Did you? There's more than one way out of here. We don't want to get out. We want to get moving. R2, activate elevator 31174. - Come in, R2. - What that? R2, do you copy? R2, activate the elevator number 31174. Get back to work. That nothin'. Activate the elevator 31174. R2- Always on the move. R2, switch on the comlink. R2, can you hear me? R2? R2! R2! Stop. Stop. R2, we need to be going up. Hands up, Jedi. R2, do you copy? R2, do you hear me? R2, we need to be going up, not down. Hey, you! That's better. You stupid little astro droid. Oh, it's you. My eyes! My eyes! - What was that all about? - R2 has been- - No loose wire jokes. - Did I say anything? - He's trying. - I didn't say anything. - Chancellor. - Are you all right? Count Dooku. - This time we will do it together. - I was about to say that. Get help. You're no match for him. He's a Sith lord. Chancellor Palpatine, Sith lords are our speciality. Your swords, please. We don't want to make a mess of things in front of the chancellor. You won't get away this time, Dooku. I've been looking forward to this. My powers have doubled since the last time we met, Count. Good. Twice the pride, double the fall. Get- I sense great fear in you, Skywalker. You have hate. You have anger. But you don't use them. Good, Anakin. Good. Kill him. Kill him now. I shouldn't. Do it. You did well, Anakin. He was too dangerous to be kept alive. Yes, but he was an unarmed prisoner. I shouldn't have done that. It's not the Jedi way. It is only natural. He cut off your arm, and you wanted revenge. It wasn't the frst time, Anakin. Remember what you told me about your mother and the Sand People? Now we must leave before more security droids arrive. Anakin, there's no time. We must get off this ship before it's too late. - He seems to be all right. - Leave him, or we'll never make it. His fate will be the same as ours. Prepare for attack! All batteries, fre! Fire! Elevator's not working. R2, activate elevator 3224. - Reverse stabilizers. - Reversing stabilizers. Magnetize! Magnetize! Fire the emergency booster engines. We're levelling out, sir. Easy. We're in a bit of a situation here. - Did I miss something? - Hold on. - What is that? - Oops. R2. R2, shut down the elevator. Too late. Jump! Let's see if we can fnd something in the hangar bay that's still flyable. R2, get down here. R2, do you copy? General, we found the Jedi. They're in hallway 328. Activate ray shields. Ray shields. Wait a minute. How did this happen? We're smarter than this. Apparently not. - I say patience. - Patience? Yes. R2 will be along in a few moments... and then he'll release the ray shields. See? No problem. Don't move. Do you have a plan B? Ah, yes. The negotiator. General Kenobi. We've been waiting for you. Excuse me. - That wasn't much of a rescue. - You're welcome. And- Anakin Skywalker. I was expecting someone with your reputation to be a little... older. General Grievous. You're shorter than I expected. Jedi scum. We have a job to do, Anakin. Try not to upset him. Your lightsabres will make a fne addition to my collection. Not this time. And this time, you won't escape. R2. Crush them! Make them suffer! Come. Now! Stay at your stations! Get him! Get him! Run! Don't bother with them. - Keep the ship in orbit. - Yes, sir. You lose, General Kenobi. Get out of here! Run! Time to abandon ship. All the escape pods have been launched. Grievous. Can you fly a cruiser like this? - You mean, can I land what's left of it? - Well? Under the circumstances, I'd say the ability to pilot this thing is irrelevant. Strap yourselves in. Open all hatches. Extend all flaps and drag fns. We lost something. Not to worry. We are still flying half a ship. Now we're really picking up speed. Eight plus 60. - We're in the atmosphere. - Grab that. Keep us level. Steady. Easy, R2. Fire ships on the left and the right. - We'll take you in. - Copy that. - Landing strip, straight ahead. - We're coming in too hot. Another happy landing. Coming, Master? No. I'm not brave enough for politics. I have to report to the council. Besides, someone needs to be the poster boy. Hold on. This whole operation was your idea. Let us not forget, Anakin, that you rescued me from the buzz droids. And you killed Count Dooku, and you rescued the chancellor... carrying me unconscious on your back. All because of your training. Anakin, let's be fair. Today you were the hero... and you deserve your glorious day with the politicians. All right. But you owe me one, and not for saving your skin for the 10th time. Ninth time. That business on Cato Neimoidia doesn't count. I'll see you at the briefng. Chancellor Palpatine, are you all right? Yes. Thanks to your two Jedi knights. They killed Count Dooku, but General Grievous has escaped once again. General Grievous will run and hide, as he always does. He's a coward. But with Count Dooku dead, he is the leader of the droid army. And I assure you... the senate will vote to continue the war as long as Grievous is alive. Then the Jedi Council will make fnding Grievous our highest priority. - Watch it. - Excuse me. - Come along, R2. - The Republic cannot praise you enough. Thank you, Senator Organa. It couldn't possibly be as bad as all that. Now there I agree with you. In fact, I could do with a tune-up myself. But the fghting will continue until General Grievous is spare parts. I will do everything I can in the senate. - Excuse me. - Certainly. I've missed you, Padm. There were whispers that you'd been killed. I'm all right. It feels like we've been apart for a lifetime. And it might have been, if the chancellor hadn't been kidnapped. I don't think they would have ever brought us back from the outer rim sieges. - Wait. Not here. - Yes, here. I'm tired of all this deception. I don't care if they know we're married. Anakin, don't say things like that. Are you all right? You're trembling. What's going on? Something wonderful has happened. Ani, I'm pregnant. That's wonderful. What are we gonna do? We're not gonna worry about anything right now. All right? This is a happy moment. The happiest moment of my life. Yes, Lord Sidious? General Grievous... I suggest you move the separatist leaders to Mustafar. It will be done, my lord. The end of the war is near, General. But the loss of Count Dooku- His death was a necessary loss. Soon I will have a new apprentice- one far younger and more powerful. Ani, I want to have our baby back home on Naboo. We can go to the lake country where no one will know... where we can be safe. I can go early and fx up the baby's room. I know the perfect spot. Right by the gardens. You are so... beautiful. It's only because I'm so in love. No, it's because I'm so in love with you. So love has blinded you? That's not exactly what I meant. But it's probably true. Anakin, help me! What's bothering you? Nothing. I remember when I gave this to you. How long is it gonna take for us to be honest with each other? - It was a dream. - Bad? Like the ones I used to have about my mother, just before she died. And? And it was about you. Tell me. It was only a dream. You die in childbirth. And the baby? I don't know. - It was only a dream. - I won't let this one become real. This baby will change our lives. I doubt the queen will continue to allow me to serve in the senate. If the council discovers you're the father, you'll be expelled- I know. I know. Do you think Obi-Wan might be able to help us? We don't need his help. Our baby is a blessing. Premonitions? Premonitions. These visions you have- They're of pain, suffering. Death. Yourself you speak of, or someone you know? Someone. Close to you? Yes. Careful you must be when sensing the future, Anakin. The fear of loss is a path to the dark side. I won't let these visions come true, Master Yoda. Death is a natural part of life. Rejoice for those around you who transform into the Force. Mourn them, do not. Miss them, do not. Attachment leads to jealousy. The shadow of greed that is. What must I do, Master Yoda? Train yourself to let go... of everything you fear to lose. You've missed the report on the outer rim sieges. I'm sorry. I was held up. - I have no excuse. - In short, they are going very well. Saleucami has fallen, and Master Vos has moved his troops to Boz Pity. What's wrong, then? The senate is expected to vote more executive powers to the chancellor today. That can only mean less deliberating and more action. Is that bad? It'll make it easier for us to end this war. Be careful of your friend Palpatine. Be careful of what? - He has requested your presence. - What for? He would not say. He didn't inform the council? That's unusual, isn't it? All of this is unusual. And it's making me feel uneasy. I hope you trust me, Anakin. Of course. I need your help, son. What do you mean? I'm depending on you. For what? I don't understand. To be the eyes, ears and voice of the Republic. I'm appointing you to be my personal representative on the Jedi Council. Me? A master? I'm overwhelmed, sir. But the council elects its own members. They'll never accept this. I think they will. They need you. More than you know. Allow this appointment lightly the council does not. Disturbing is this move by Chancellor Palpatine. I understand. You are on this council... but we do not grant you the rank of master. What? How can you do this? This is outrageous. It's unfair. How can you be on the council and not be a master? Take a seat, young Skywalker. Forgive me, Master. We have surveyed all systems in the Republic... but have found no sign of General Grievous. Hiding in the outer rim Grievous is. The outlying systems you must sweep. We do not have many ships to spare. What about the droid attack on the Wookiees? It is critical we send an attack group there immediately. He's right. It's a system we cannot afford to lose. Go I will. Good relations with the Wookiees I have. It's settled then. Yoda will take a battalion of clones to reinforce the Wookiees on Kashyyyk. May the Force be with us all. What kind of nonsense is this? Put me on the council and not make me a master? It's never been done in the history of the Jedi. It's insulting. Calm down, Anakin. You have been given a great honour. To be on the council at your age- it's never happened before. The fact of the matter is you are too close to the chancellor. The council doesn't like it when he interferes in Jedi affairs. I swear to you, I didn't ask to be put on the council. But it's what you wanted. Your friendship with Chancellor Palpatine seems to have paid off. That has nothing to do with this. The only reason the council has approved your appointment... is because the chancellor trusts you. And? Anakin, I am on your side. I didn't want to put you in this situation. What situation? The council wants you to report on all the chancellor's dealings. They want to know what he's up to. They want me to spy on the chancellor? - But that's treason. - We are at war, Anakin. Why didn't the council give me this assignment when we were in session? This assignment is not to be on record. The chancellor is not a bad man, Obi-Wan. He befriended me. He's watched out for me ever since I arrived here. That is why you must help us. Anakin, our allegiance is to the senate, not to its leader... who has managed to stay in offce long after his term has expired. The senate demanded that he stay longer. Yes, but use your feelings, Anakin. Something is out of place. You're asking me to do something against the Jedi code. Against the Republic. Against a mentor and a friend. That's what's out of place here. Why are you asking this of me? The council is asking you. Anakin did not take to his new assignment with much enthusiasm. It's very dangerous, putting them together. I don't think the boy can handle it. I don't trust him. With all due respect, Master, is he not the chosen one? Is he not to destroy the Sith and bring balance to the Force? So the prophecy says. A prophecy that misread could have been. He will not let me down. He never has. I hope right you are. Sometimes I wonder what's happening to the Jedi order. I think this war is destroying the principles of the Republic. Have you ever considered that we may be on the wrong side? What do you mean? What if the democracy we thought we were serving no longer exists... and the Republic has become the very evil we've been fghting to destroy? I don't believe that. And you're sounding like a separatist. This war represents a failure to listen. Now you're closer to the chancellor than anyone. Please, ask him to stop the fghting and let diplomacy resume. Don't ask me to do that. Make a motion in the senate, where that kind of a request belongs. - What is it? - Nothing. Don't do this. Don't shut me out. Let me help you. Hold me. Like you did by the lake on Naboo. So long ago, when there was nothing but our love. No politics, no plotting, no war. - You wanted to see me, Chancellor. - Yes, Anakin. Come closer. I have good news. Our clone intelligence units... have discovered the location of General Grievous. He's hiding in the Utapau system. At last. We'll be able to capture that monster and end this war. I would worry about the collective wisdom of the council... if it didn't select you for this assignment. You're the best choice, by far. Sit down. Leave us. You know I'm not able to rely on the Jedi Council. If they haven't included you in their plot, they soon will. I'm not sure I understand. You must sense what I have come to suspect. The Jedi Council want control of the Republic. They're planning to betray me. - I don't think that- - Anakin. Search your feelings. You know, don't you? I know they don't trust you. Or the senate. Or the Republic. Or democracy, for that matter. I have to admit, my trust in them has been shaken. Why? They asked you to do something that made you feel dishonest, didn't they? They asked you to spy on me, didn't they? I don't know what to say. Remember back to your early teachings. All who gain power are afraid to lose it. - Even the Jedi. - The Jedi use their power for good. Good is a point of view, Anakin. The Sith and the Jedi are similar in almost every way... including their quest for greater power. The Sith rely on their passion for their strength. They think inwards- only about themselves. And the Jedi don't? The Jedi are selfless. They only care about others. Did you ever hear the tragedy of Darth Plagueis the Wise? I thought not. It's not a story the Jedi would tell you. It's a Sith legend. Darth Plagueis was a dark lord of the Sith... Darth Plagueis was a dark lord of the Sith... so powerful and so wise... he could use the Force to influence the midi-chlorians... to create... life. He had such a knowledge of the dark side... he could even keep the ones he cared about... from dying. He could actually... save people from death? The dark side of the Force is a pathway to many abilities... some consider to be unnatural. What happened to him? He became so powerful... the only thing he was afraid of was... Iosing his power. Which eventually, of course, he did. Unfortunately, he taught his apprentice everything he knew. Then his apprentice killed him in his sleep. It's ironic. He could save others from death... but not himself. Is it possible to learn this power? Not from a Jedi. All Red units, over here! Palpatine thinks General Grievous is on Utapau? A partial message was intercepted... in a diplomatic packet from the chairman of Utapau. Act on this we must. The capture of General Grievous will end this war. Quickly and decisively we should proceed. The chancellor has requested... that I lead the campaign. The council will make up its own mind who is to go... not the chancellor. A master is needed, with more experience. I concur. Master Kenobi should go. I agree. Aye. Aye. Very well. Council adjourned. The droids have started up their main power generators. - Then now the time is, Commander. - Yes, sir. Charge! Head for cover! - You're gonna need me on this one. - I agree. However, it may turn out Just to be a wild bantha chase. Master. I've disappointed you. I haven't been very appreciative of your training. I've been arrogant, and I apologize. I've just been so frustrated with the council. You are strong and wise, Anakin, and I am very proud of you. I have trained you since you were a small boy. I have taught you everything I know. And you have become a far greater Jedi than I could ever hope to be. But be patient, Anakin. It will not be long before the council makes you a Jedi master. Obi-Wan. May the Force be with you. Goodbye, old friend. May the Force be with you. Fortunately, most of the cities are concentrated on this small continent here. On the far side. I'll keep them distracted until you get there. - Just don't take too long. - Come on. When have I ever let you down? Very well. The burden is on me not to destroy all the droids until you arrive. Save your energy. I can't. Don't give up, Padm. Obi-Wan's been here, hasn't he? He came by this morning. What did he want? He's worried about you. He says you've been under a lot of stress. I feel lost. Lost? What do you mean? Obi-Wan and the council don't trust me. They trust you with their lives. Something's happening. I'm not the Jedi I should be. I want more. And I know I shouldn't. You expect too much of yourself. - I found a way to save you. - Save me? From my nightmares. Is that what's bothering you? I won't lose you, Padm. I'm not gonna die in childbirth, Ani. - I promise you. - No, I promise you. Greetings, young Jedi. What brings you to our remote sanctuary? Unfortunately, the war. There's no war here- unless you brought it with you. With your kind permission, I should like some fuel... and to use your city as a base as I search nearby systems for General Grievous. He is here. We are being held hostage. - They are watching us. - I understand. Tenth level, thousands of battle droids. Tell your people to take shelter. If you have warriors, now is the time. Take the fghter back to the ship. Tell Cody I've made contact. - Is he bringing additional warriors? - He didn't say. It won't be long before the armies of the Republic track us here. I am sending you to the Mustafar system in the outer rim. It is a volcanic planet. - You will be safe there. - Safe? Chancellor Palpatine managed to escape your grip, General. Without Count Dooku, I have doubts about your ability to keep us safe. Be thankful, Viceroy, you have not found yourself in my grip. Your ship is waiting. Hello there. General Kenobi. You are a bold one. Kill him. Back away. I will deal with this Jedi slime myself. Your move. You fool. I've been trained in your Jedi arts by Count Dooku. Attack, Kenobi. Army or not... you must realize you are doomed. I don't think so. Cover that corner. Master Windu, may I interrupt? General Kenobi has made contact with General Grievous... and we have begun our attack. Thank you, Commander. Anakin, deliver this report to the chancellor. His reaction will give us a clue to his intentions. Yes, Master. I sense a plot to destroy the Jedi. The dark side of the Force surrounds the chancellor. If he does not give up his emergency powers... after the destruction of Grievous... then he should be removed from office. The Jedi Council would have to take control of the senate... in order to secure a peaceful transition. To a dark place this line of thought will carry us. Great care we must take. Chancellor. We've just received a report from Master Kenobi. He has engaged General Grievous. We can only hope that Master Kenobi is up to the challenge. I should be there with him. It's upsetting to me to see that the council... doesn't seem to fully appreciate your talents. Don't you wonder why they won't make you a Jedi master? I wish I knew. More and more I get the feeling that... I'm being excluded from the council. I know there are things about the Force that they're not telling me. They don't trust you, Anakin. They see your future. They know your power will be too strong to control. You must break through the fog of lies the Jedi have created around you. Let me help you to know the subtleties of the Force. How do you know the ways of the Force? My mentor taught me everything about the Force. Even the nature of the dark side. You know the dark side? If one is to understand the great mystery... one must study all its aspects... not just the dogmatic narrow view of the Jedi. If you wish to become a complete and wise leader... you must embrace a larger view of the Force. Be careful of the Jedi, Anakin. Only through me can you achieve a power greater than any Jedi. Learn to know the dark side of the Force... and you will be able to save your wife... from certain death. What did you say? Use my knowledge. I beg you. You're the Sith lord. I know what's been troubling you. Listen to me. Don't continue to be a pawn of the Jedi Council. Ever since I've known you, you've been searching for a life... greater than that of an ordinary Jedi. A life of signifcance... of conscience. - Are you going to kill me? - I would certainly like to. I know you would. I can feel your anger. It gives you focus... makes you stronger. I'm going to turn you over to the Jedi Council. Of course. You should. But you're not sure of their intentions, are you? I will quickly discover the truth of all this. You have great wisdom, Anakin. Know the power of the dark side. Power to save Padm. So uncivilized. Master Windu, I must talk to you. Skywalker, we just received word that Obi-Wan has destroyed General Grievous. We're on our way to make sure... the chancellor returns emergency power back to the senate. He won't give up his power. I've just learned a terrible truth. I think Chancellor Palpatine is a Sith lord. A Sith lord? Yes. The one we've been looking for. - How do you know this? - He knows the ways of the Force. He's been trained to use the dark side. - Are you sure? - Absolutely. Then our worst fears have been realized. We must move quickly if the Jedi order is to survive. Master, the chancellor is very powerful. You'll need my help if you're going to arrest him. For you own good, stay out of this affair. I sense a great deal of confusion in you, young Skywalker. There is much fear that clouds your judgement. - I must go, Master. - No. If what you've told me is true, you will have gained my trust. But for now, remain here. Wait in the council chambers until we return. Yes, Master. You do know, don't you... if theJedi destroy me... any chance of saving her will be lost. Master Windu. I take it General Grievous has been destroyed then. I must say you're here sooner than expected. In the name of the Galactic Senate of the Republic... you're under arrest, Chancellor. Are you threatening me, Master Jedi? The senate will decide your fate. - I am the senate. - Not yet. It's treason then. You are under arrest, my lord. Anakin, I told you it would come to this. I was right. The Jedi are taking over. The oppression of the Sith will never return. You have lost. You will die! He's a traitor! He is the traitor! I have the power to save the one you love. You must choose. Don't listen to him, Anakin! Don't let him kill me. I can't hold it any longer. I can't. I'm weak. I'm too weak. Help me. Help me! I can't hold on any longer. I am going to end this once and for all. You can't. He must stand trial. He has control of the senate and the courts. He's too dangerous to be left alive. I'm too weak. - Don't kill me. Please. - It's not the Jedi way. He must live. - Please don't. - I need him. Please don't! Power! Unlimited power! What have I done? You're fulflling your destiny, Anakin. Become my apprentice. Learn to use the dark side of the Force. I will do whatever you ask. Good. Just help me save Padm's life. I can't live without her. To cheat death is a power only one has achieved... but if we work together... I know we can discover the secret. I pledge myself... to your teachings. Good. Good. The Force is strong with you. A powerful Sith you will become. Henceforth you shall be known as... Darth... Vader. Thank you, my master. Rise. Because the council did not trust you, my young apprentice... I believe you are the only Jedi with no knowledge of this plot. When the Jedi learn what has transpired here... they will kill us, along with all the senators. I agree. The council's next move will be against the senate. Every single Jedi... including your friend Obi-Wan Kenobi... is now an enemy of the Republic. I understand, Master. We must move quickly. The Jedi are relentless. If they are not all destroyed, it will be civil war without end. First I want you to go to the Jedi temple. We will catch them off-balance. Do what must be done, Lord Vader. Do not hesitate. Show no mercy. Only then will you be strong enough with the dark side... to save Padm. What about the other Jedi spread across the galaxy? Their betrayal will be dealt with. After you have killed all the Jedi in the temple... go to the Mustafar system. Wipe out Viceroy Gunray... and the other separatist leaders. Once more the Sith will rule the galaxy! And... we shall have... peace. Sergeant, over here! Hurry! All of them! All Red units, let's move it! Come on. Let's go! Commander, contact your troops. Tell them to move to the higher levels. Very good, sir. By the way, I think you'll be needing this. Thank you, Cody. Let's get a move on. We've got a battle to win. Yes, sir. Commander Cody... the time has come. Execute order 66. Yes, my lord. Blast him! Come on! Execute order 66. It will be done, my lord. It will be done, my lord. Master Skywalker, there are too many of them. What are we going to do? The chancellor's offce indicated Master Anakin returned to the Jedi temple. Don't worry. I'm sure he'll be all right. - What's going on here? - There's been a rebellion, sir. Don't worry. The situation is under control. I'm sorry, sir. It's time for you to leave. And so it is. Get him! Don't worry about him. Let him go. All these Wookiees are dead. Move to the east. Yes, sir. Goodbye, Tarfful. Goodbye, Chewbacca. Miss you I will. Hopefully we'll be able to intercept a few Jedi... before they walk into this catastrophe. Did you fnd Kenobi? Sir, no one could have survived that fall. Start loading your men on the ships. Move it. Emergency code 913. I have no contact on any frequency. Master Kenobi. - Repeat. - Master Kenobi. Senator Organa. My clone troops turned on me. I need help. We havejust rescued Master Yoda. It appears this ambush has happened everywhere. We're sending you our coordinates. Hush! Not so loud. Are you all right? I heard there was an attack on the Jedi temple. - You could see the smoke from here. - I'm fne. I came to see if you and the baby are safe. What's happening? The Jedi have tried to overthrow the Republic. I can't believe that. I saw Master Windu attempt to assassinate the chancellor myself. What are you gonna do? I will not betray the Republic. My loyalties lie with the chancellor... and with the senate and with you. - What about Obi-Wan? - I don't know. Many Jedi have been killed. We can only hope that he's remained loyal to the chancellor. Anakin, I'm afraid. Have faith, my love. Everything will soon be set right. The chancellor has given me a very important mission. The separatists have gathered on the Mustafar system. I'm going there to end this war. Wait for me until I return. Things will be different. I promise. Please, wait for me. Well, he is under a lot of stress, R2. Take care, my little friend. Oh, my lady, is there anything I might do? No, thank you, 3PO. I feel so helpless. How many other Jedi have managed to survive? Heard from no one have we. I saw thousands of troops attack the Jedi temple. That's why I went looking for Yoda. Have we had any contact from the temple? Received a coded retreat message we have. It requests all Jedi to return to the temple. - It says the war is over. - Then we must go back. If there are any stragglers, they will fall into the trap and be killed. Suggest dismantling the coded signal, do you? Yes, Master. There is too much at stake. I agree. And a little more knowledge might light our way. The plan has gone as you had promised, my lord. You have done well, Viceroy. When my new apprentice Darth Vader arrives... he will take care of you. We're receiving a message from the chancellor's offce, sir. - Send it through. - Yes, sir. Senator Organa, the supreme chancellor requests your presence... at a special session of Congress. - I will be there. - He'll be expecting you. - Could be a trap. - I don't think so. The chancellor will not be able to control the thousands of star systems... without keeping the senate intact. If a special session of Congress there is... easier for us to enter the Jedi temple it will be. R2, stay with the ship. Welcome, Lord Vader. We've been expecting you. And the Jedi rebellion has been foiled. What's happened? The chancellor's been elaborating on a plot by the Jedi to overthrow the senate. The remaining Jedi will be hunted down and defeated. Not even the younglings survived. Killed not by clones this Padawan. By a lightsabre he was. Who? Who could have done this? The attempt on my life... has left me scarred and deformed. But I assure you. My resolve has never been stronger! Stop! In order to ensure the security and continuing stability... the Republic will be reorganized... into the frst Galactic Empire! For a safe and secure society. So this is how liberty dies. With thunderous applause. The war is over. Lord Sidious promised us peace. We only want- I have recalibrated the code, warning all surviving Jedi to stay away. For the clones... to discover the recalibration a long time it will take. Wait. Master. There is something I must know. If into the security recordings you go, only pain will you fnd. I must know the truth, Master. It can't be. It can't be. You have done well, my new apprentice. Now, Lord Vader... go and bring peace to the Empire. I can't watch any more. Destroy the Sith we must. Send me to kill the emperor. I will not kill Anakin. To fght this Lord Sidious, strong enough you are not. He is like my brother. I cannot do it. Twisted by the dark side young Skywalker has become. The boy you trained, gone he is. Consumed by Darth Vader. I do not know where the emperor has sent him. I don't know where to look. Use your feelings, Obi-Wan, and fnd him you will. When was the last time you saw him? - Yesterday. - And do you know where he is now? Padm, I need your help. - He is in grave danger. - From the Sith? From himself. Anakin has turned to the dark side. You're wrong. How could you even say that? I have seen a security hologram... of him... killing younglings. Not Anakin. He couldn't. He was deceived by a lie. We all were. It appears that the chancellor is behind everything, including the war. Palpatine is the Sith lord we've been looking for. After the death of Count Dooku, Anakin became his new apprentice. I don't believe you. I can't. I must fnd him. You're going to kill him, aren't you? He has become a very great threat. I can't. Anakin is the father, isn't he? I'm so sorry. - Milady, let me come with you. - There's no danger. The fghting's over. And this is personal. As you wish, milady, but I strongly disagree. I'll be all right, Captain. This is something I must do myself. Besides, 3PO will look after me. Oh, dear. Do you know? I think I'm beginning to get the hang of this flying business. The separatists have been taken care of, my master. It is fnished then. You have restored peace and justice to the galaxy. Send a message to the ships of the Trade Federation. All droid units must shut down immediately. Very good, my lord. I saw your ship. - What are you doing out here? - I was so worried about you. Obi-Wan told me terrible things. What things? He said you've turned to the dark side. That you... killed younglings. Obi-Wan is trying to turn you against me. He cares about us. Us? He knows. He wants to help you. Anakin, all I want is your love. Love won't save you, Padm. - Only my new powers can do that. - At what cost? You're a good person. Don't do this. I won't lose you the way I lost my mother. I am becoming more powerful than any Jedi has ever dreamed of. And I'm doing it for you. To protect you. Come away with me. Help me raise our child. Leave everything else behind while we still can. Don't you see? We don't have to run away any more. I have brought peace to the Republic. I am more powerful than the chancellor. I can overthrow him. And together, you and I can rule the galaxy... make things the way we want them to be. I don't believe what I'm hearing. Obi-Wan was right. You've changed. I don't want to hear any more about Obi-Wan. The Jedi turned against me. Don't you turn against me. I don't know you any more. You're breaking my heart. You're going down a path I can't follow. Because of Obi-Wan? Because of what you've done. What you plan to do. Stop. Stop now. Come back. - I love you. - Liar! You're with him! You brought him here to kill me. Let her go, Anakin. Let her go. You turned her against me! You have done that yourself. You will not take her from me! Your anger and your lust for power have already done that. You have allowed this dark lord to twist your mind... until now you have become the very thing you swore to destroy. Don't lecture me, Obi-Wan. I see through the lies of the Jedi. I do not fear the dark side as you do. I have brought peace... freedom, justice and security to my new empire. Your new empire? Don't make me kill you. Anakin, my allegiance is to the Republic, to democracy! If you're not with me... then you're my enemy. Only a Sith deals in absolutes. I will do what I must. You will try. I hear a new apprentice you have, Emperor. Or should I call you Darth Sidious? Master Yoda. You survived. Surprised? Your arrogance blinds you, Master Yoda. Now you will experience... the full power of the dark side. I have waited a long time for this moment... my little green friend. At last the Jedi are no more. Not if anything to say about it I have. At an end your rule is. And not short enough it was. If so powerful you are... why leave? You will not stop me. Darth Vader will become more powerful than either of us. Faith in your new apprentice misplaced may be. As is your faith in the dark side of the Force. Hurry. Careful timing we will need. Activate your homing beacon when you're ready. There's no sign of his body, sir. - Then he is not dead. - Double your search. Yes, sir. Right away, sir. Tell Captain Kagi to prepare my shuttle for immediate take-off. - Yes, Master. - I sense Lord Vader is in danger. Into exile I must go. Failed I have. I have failed you, Anakin. I have failed you. I should have known the Jedi were plotting to take over. Anakin, Chancellor Palpatine is evil! From my point of view, the Jedi are evil. Then you are lost! This is the end for you, my master. It's over, Anakin. I have the high ground. You underestimate my power. Don't try it. You were the chosen one! It was said that you would destroy the Sith, not join them! Bring balance to the Force, not leave it in darkness! I hate you! You were my brother, Anakin. I loved you. Master Kenobi. We have Miss Padm on board. Yes. Please, please hurry. We should leave this dreadful place. Is Anakin all right? Your Majesty, this way. There he is. He's still alive. Get a medical capsule immediately. Yes, sir. Right away. Excuse me, Master Yoda. Obi-Wan Kenobi has made contact. We'll take her to the medical centre. Quickly. Medically, she's completely healthy. For reasons we can't explain, we are losing her. - She's dying? - We don't know why. She has lost the will to live. We need to operate quickly if we are to save the babies. Babies? She's carrying twins. Luke. Oh, Luke. - It's a girl. - Leia. There's good in him. I know. I know there's... still- Lord Vader. Can you hear me? Yes, Master. Where is Padm? Is she safe? Is she all right? It seems, in your anger, you killed her. I? I couldn't have. She was alive. I felt it! Hidden, safe the children must be kept. We must take them somewhere where the Sith will not sense their presence. Split up they should be. My wife and I will take the girl. We've always talked of adopting a baby girl. She will be loved with us. And what of the boy? To Tatooine. To his family send him. I will take the child and watch over him. Until the time is right, disappear we will. Master Kenobi, wait a moment. In your solitude on Tatooine, training I have for you. Training? An old friend has learned the path to immortality. One who has returned from the netherworld of the Force. Your old master. Qui-Gon? How to commune with him I will teach you. - Captain Antilles. - Yes, Your Highness? I'm placing these droids in your care. Treat them well. Clean them up. Have the protocol droid's mind wiped. What? 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https://www.thefreelibrary.com/Backlash%2c+parental+alienation+syndrome+and+co-construction.-a0179570828
Work on the issue of sexual abuse in children and adolescents lays bare the power relations between genders, generations and social classes. The issue of gender is seen in statistics from UN agencies that report that "one in four girls and one in nine boys will be sexually abused before they reach the age of 18."(1) Generational power relations are clear because the perpetrators are adults, and the power relations of class are evident in the backlash generated by powerful sectors that have attempted to prop up the myth that child abuse is only a problem among the poor and working classes.
Webster's Dictionary defines "backlash" as "a strong adverse reaction to a political or social movement." More plainly, backlash is a negative reaction to a positive and constructive step forward. Professor of law John Myers identifies the positive step as the progress made in the past two decades with regard to child abuse and the backlash as the escalation of criticism against professionals involved in child protection.(2)
David Finkelhor was responsible for pioneering work on the sexual abuse of children in the United States. In his 1979 book, Sexually Victimized Children, Finkelhor recognizes the important contributions of the women's movement and professionals involved in child protection lobbying in drawing attention to the realities of sexual violence against minors: "If the sexual abuse of children has risen to prominence as a social problem rather quickly, it is because it has been championed by an alliance of two constituencies by now rather experienced in the promotion of social problems."(3)
In the United States, a backlash began in the 1980s under the Reagan Administration's return to stale and reactionary values following the struggles of the women's movement and the children's rights movement the 1960s and 70s.
What was once secret was now openly debated, and controversy wracked the most idealized institutions, including church, family and school. Socially consecrated myths of long-standing were crumbling: "The home is the seat of love, support and safety for children"; "Good families don't talk about sexuality"; "Churches reflect the highest moral standard with regard to sexuality"; "Children are safe in school."
By drawing attention to the realities of child sexual abuse, a solid blow was dealt to the "powers that be"; hypocrisy was uncovered; and unquestioned assumptions were challenged. This frontal attack was met with denial by means of a range of strategies developed by the fundamentalisms of faith and the market.
One of these backlash strategists was prominent forensics expert Richard Gardner, who coined the term "parental alienation syndrome" in 1985 to describe a supposed psychological disorder that he had observed in lengthy and bitter custody battles. His original paper on the subject uses the following description:

"The term I prefer to use is parental alienation syndrome. I have introduced this term to refer to a disturbance in which children are obsessed with deprecation and criticism of a parent—denigration that is unjustified and/or exaggerated. The notion that such children are merely 'brainwashed' is narrow."(4)

However, supposedly citing his original work several years later, Gardner re-describes this phenomena somewhat differently.

"[t]he parental alienation syndrome (PAS) is a childhood disorder that arises almost exclusively in the context of child-custody disputes. Its primary manifestation is the child's campaign of denigration against a parent, a campaign that has no justification. It results from the combination of a programming (brainwashing) parent's indoctrinations and the child's own contributions to the vilification of the target parent. When true parental abuse and/or neglect is present, the child's animosity may be justified, and so the parental alienation syndrome explanation for the child's hostility is not applicable."(5)

The two different definitions demonstrate the changes in this argument over time with the goal of developing a different strategy for discrediting the hard research work and harder-won social gains of the women's movement and the professionals lobbying for child protection.
Maria Jose Blanco Barea has studied the many works that Gardner published up to his death by suicide in 2003, and she suggests that "perhaps the psychological causes that led to his suicide should be taken into consideration." With regard to Gardner's professional career, Blanco Barea recounts that "Gardner dedicated the first part of his professional life to working as a forensics expert in cases of sexual abuse brought by children against their parents, students against professors, members of the faithful against representatives of organized religions and within military families. Gardner often stressed that he was a former captain [in the U.S. Army Medical Corps] and as a psychologist treated members of the armed forces who had served in Korea. He specialized in techniques to 'deprogram' U.S. soldiers who had been prisoners of war. His methodologies and expert testimony were used to question the credibility of sexual abuse victims, to prove that the accused were innocent and that the accusers were guilty of perjury. Gardner testified in cases of sexual abuse in the context of hearings to determine custody, visitation and guardianship, and he himself explains that he developed his research over the course of his career. In other words, he directly applied the scientific method of trial and error in real-life court cases that were settled while he was still carrying out his research. When he decided to publish his theories in 1985, Garner failed to provide the scientific community with the necessary data to scientifically analyze his conclusions."(6)
Richard Gardner's books were published by Creative Therapeutics, which he himself owned. Some of his articles were published in Issues in Child Abuse Accusations, a publication of the Institute for Psychological Therapies, which is directed by Dr. Ralph Underwager who is well known for an interview in the Dutch journal Paidika […](7)
In the 1970s and 80s and prior to his publication of the parental alienation syndrome, Gardner developed the "Sex-Abuse Legitimacy Scale" (SAL Scale), which he used in his own courtroom testimony. Nonetheless, Gardner's ideological stance clearly shows that he did not view child sexual abuse as a problem, except when it is denounced.

"It is of interest that of all the ancient peoples it may very well be that the Jews were the only ones who were punitive toward [adults who had sex with children]. Early Christian proscriptions against [adult-child sex] appear to have been derived from the earlier teachings of the Jews, and our present overreaction to [adult-child sex] represents an exaggeration of Judeo-Christian principles and is a significant factor operative in Western society's atypicality with regard to such activities."(8)
"The child might be helped to appreciate the wisdom of Shakespeare's Hamlet, who said, 'Nothing's either good or bad, but thinking makes it so.'"(9)
"And her [the mother's] increased sexuality may lessen the need for her husband to return to their daughter for sexual gratification."(10)
"… except for a certain amount of sexual frustration that was not gratified, the four-year-old had not been significantly traumatized by these encounters."(11)

Elsewhere Gardner had the following to say about child sexual abuse: "The sexually abused child is generally considered to be the victim, though the child may initiate sexual encounters by 'seducing' the adult."(12) Gardner even proposes that [child sexual abuse] serves procreative purposes; he maintains that although the child cannot become pregnant, a child who is drawn into sexual encounters at an early age is likely to become highly sexualized and thus will crave sexual experiences during the prepubertal years. Such a "charged up child" is more likely to transmit his or her genes through his or her progeny at an early age. Gardner states: "The younger the survival machine at the time sexual urges appear, the longer will be the span of procreative capacity, and the greater the likelihood the individual will create more survival machines in the next generation."(13) He also recommended that the incestuous father "has to be helped to appreciate that, even today, it [adult-child sex] is a widespread and accepted practice among literally billions of people. He has to appreciate that in our Western society especially we take a very punitive and moralistic attitude toward such inclinations.… He has also had back [sic] luck with regard to the place and time he was born with regard to social attitudes toward [adult-child esx]."(14)
The two definitions of parental alienation syndrome are interesting because the first reveals that the intention of the original strategy was to minimize the devastating effects that child abuse has in the victims. However, the 2002 definition added: "When true parental abuse and/or neglect is present, the child's animosity may be justified, and so the parental alienation syndrome explanation for the child's hostility is not applicable."(15) But curiously, the indicators of parental alienation syndrome also coincide with the indicators of sexual abuse that have been established by international studies on this problem.
At the time of the revised definition, the international study of child abuse and the movement to prevent the victimization of children was much further advanced. Some examples are the five European seminars "Secrets that Destroy" held in 1998 by the Save the Children Alliance; the 1999 "Vision and Reality" reports that address women's and children's rights; and a series of later publications by experts in the matter.
Although the SAL scale has been widely disregarded as a tool for diagnosing sexual abuse, Gardner's real thoughts are evident in the above citations from his works. Both the SAL scale and parental alienation syndrome represent a scandalous violation of the human rights of women, adolescents and children.
In numerous publications, Gardner uses supposedly scientific but paradoxical arguments to rationalize his denial of violence against women, defined in the Belem do Para Convention as "a manifestation of the historically unequal power relations between women and men."(16) Making use of children, he creates a new and sophisticated form of violence against women that involves complicity of the justice system.
Gardner proposed a series of symptoms that reveal three types of parental alienation syndrome (severe, moderate and mild) and specific treatment for each type. The treatment that he proposes for parental alienation syndrome involves both legal and health-care professionals, who Gardner says should have the power to administer the appropriate treatment based on the coercion, threat, change in living arrangements and, as a last resort, the internment and "deprogramming" of the child. As Blanco Barea observes, "Parental alienation syndrome makes a fraud of the law. It makes use of the declarations against discriminations against women and of the rights of the child to protect the parent and escape the application of the Conference of Vienna that protects against torture and degrading treatment, especially in the case of women and girls, and to escape the application of the Convention on the Rights of the Child."(17)
As law professor John Myers explains, "Gardner is an outspoken critic of certain aspects of the child protection system. Apparently, Gardner believes America is in the throes of mass hysteria over child sexual abuse. He writes that 'sex-abuse hysteria is omnipresent' (True and False Accusations of Child Sex Abuse, 1992, p. xxv). In his 1991 book titled Sex Abuse Hysteria: Salem Witch Trials Revisited, Gardner is harshly critical of an unspecified portion of the mental health professionals, investigators, and prosecutors trying to protect children. For example, Gardner accuses some prosecutors of gratifying their own sexual urges and sadistic tendencies through involvement in sexual abuse cases. […] It seems clear that Richard Gardner cannot claim to be balanced or objective when it comes to allegations of child sexual abuse."(18)
Although Gardner and his theories can be questioned for their misogynist and perverse ideology, in Argentina former family court judge Eduardo Cardenas published "El abuso de las denuncias de abuso" (The Abuse of Claims of Abuse) in La Ley, on September 15, 2000. Cardenas's article supported Gardner's theories and sparked backlash in our country, which has provoked widespread reaction among well-known professionals.
Perhaps the best summary of what occurred in Argentina after 2000 is found in the book Maltrato infantil: Riesgos del compromiso profesional (Child Abuse: The Risks of Professional Commitment), a collection of essays by known specialists on the issue, edited by Silvio Lamberti. As the introduction to this book describes:

"As long as the problem was associated with the lower classes, more and more cases were reported. When it began to be suspected that family violence affected all social classes and the middle and upper classes were scrutinized, a reactionary movement used the guise of good intentions to put limits on professionals that supposedly 'abused the reports of child sexual abuse.'
"This was the reaction of:

1. Fathers who were engaged in custody battles or other legal disputes regarding visitation rights.
2. Lawyers who preached equanimity and warned against the feminist bias that they claimed had affected the reports.
3. Experts who tried to pass off the backlash literature from the U.S. as scientific evidence to support their own conclusions.

"This brutal attack tends to carry into an ideological realm a debate that crosses legal and psychosocial discourses, ethics and society as a whole and tries to undo the advances already gained, discouraging those who have worked to achieve these gains. In short, they intend to:

1. Discredit reports of child abuse.
2. Turn anyone who denounces abuse into a suspect.
3. Blur the boundaries between victim and victimizer.
4. Confuse the matter by citing the rare cases of violence against boys or adult men committed by women.
5. Discredit the specialized treatment services even though the law recognizes the value of their diagnosis.
6. Ignore constitutional norms from the Convention on Rights of the Child.

"Thus, the meaning of abusive conduct is inverted, with abuse being attributed to the person who reports the abuse and requests the fulfillment of the law.
"This reactionary backlash supports the persistence of family violence and condemns all girls and/or victims of the perpetuation of incest and abuse while attempting to stymie the legal system and the work of other professionals who until now have born the heavy burden of this process."(19)

This scientific alert went out over three years ago; nonetheless, today there are increasing obstacles to working on this issue. The notion of false reports of abuse is now firmly rooted in the courts. Sexual abuse trials are tremendous ordeals that seriously damage the children and the adults who report the crime and place a heavy burden on the professionals who take the children's part and who often face accusations of malpractice, libel or slander.
The discrediting of psychological experts is of serious concern. What started with Gardner has continued with followers who have discredited indicators, treatments, techniques and prevention campaigns. Brandishing the concept of co-construction on the part of the family members of the victims or the professionals, the testimony of the children is discredited, accused of being childhood fantasy and tale-telling.
The efforts of Gardner and his followers have been echoed by the hierarchy of the Catholic Church, an institution that claims to represent the social sexual moral but which has promoted a policy of smoke-screening sexual abuse.
The Red Latinoamericana de Catolicas por el Derecho a Decidir (Latin American Network of Catholics for the Right to Decide) has undertaken a study on the secret system of sexual abuse within the Catholic Church.(20) The ecclesiastical hierarchy always has been aware of these crimes and has implemented a policy of covering up the abuses committed by priests. This policy is summarized in the following ten points adapted from the studies carried out by the Spanish journalist Pepe Rodriguez(21) and corroborated in the studies of the Catolicas por el Derecho a Decidir:

1. Discreet investigation of the incident. The prelates of the diocese often have ecclesiastical informants, people who desire to rise in the esteem of the hierarchy through their reports. They keep the bishops abreast of the transgressions of the priests under their authority. These reports are given orally.
2. Initiation of actions to dissuade the aggressor and/or the victim(s). Once the prelate recognizes the situation of sexual abuse in which the image of the Church could be tarnished, the aggressor is rebuked. Then the bishops dedicate themselves to convincing the victims and their families, assuring them that the aggressor will be punished and that he has repented. They persuade the families to not report the crime so that no one in the Church or the family will suffer the consequences.
3. Covering up the incident and the identity of the aggressor so the case never becomes public. In this effort, acts are undertaken to confuse the matter, including transferral of the priest to another parish, bribery of the victim and their family members or the use of threats and suspension of benefits (for example, expulsion from school).
4. Measures to reinforce the cover up. When the case escapes the closed doors of the Church, the hierarch opens an internal investigation against the aggressor to defend against eventual accusations of passivity in case there is external pressure from the media or society or a civil suit. Generally, the investigation is paralyzed indefinitely. At this stage, the priest usually is transferred to another parish, another diocese or another country, depending on the situation.
5. Denial of the incident when the case becomes public, under the argument that the priest is a man of virtue heeding God's call, a holy figure who could never commit a crime of this nature. When denial is no longer possible, the matter is treated as an exception to this rule.
6. Public defense of the aggressor, stressing his good service to the Church and his personal merits. If he did do anything wrong, he is profoundly repentant and was not conscious of his acts. An appeal is made to the Christian sentiments of pardoning a repentant sinner.
7. Public discrediting of the victim(s). Rodriguez uses the metaphor of ants defending an anthill to describe the corporativist attitude of the clergy when one of its members is accused. The guilt is reversed; the victim(s) and/or their family members are blamed.
8. Paranoiac accusations of the denunciation being linked to campaigns orchestrated by "enemies of the Church." When the number of accusations is so high that discrediting the victims is not enough, the hierarchy complains that there are national or international powers or cults conspiring against the Church.
9. Possibility of negotiation with the victim. This negotiation frequently occurs before the case is made public when the intention of the Church is to buy the victim's silence to preserve the image of the institution. When there is a public scandal, the hierarchy tries to minimize the damage by trying to negotiate the withdrawal of the accusations against the aggressor.
10. Protection of the priest/aggressor. When the accused is found to be guilty, the hierarchy stands by him and in some cases even pays him homage or praises him, doing everything possible to erase the incident from the public memory.(22)

As the Church silences and covers up the abuses committed within its institutions, it resembles Gardner and his followers in that it denies the realities of domestic violence and the sexual abuse of children and adolescents and hampers investigation of these matters. Alliances with key judicial figures lead to perverse and scandalous rulings, such as the Melo Pacheco case in Mar del Plata, the Storni case Santa Fe or the stalling in the Grassi trial, to name the most notorious cases. Many others remain anonymous, which demonstrates the existence of a model that favors the impunity of the abusers, the suffering of the victims and the punishment of those who are working within the framework of human rights.
A sturdy thread connects those who deny, discredit, silence, minimize, distort and negotiate the rights of children: the perversity that has subordinated their ethics to systems of belief that are authoritarian, patriarchal and/or favor the domination of adults.
This ideological combination stacks the deck against victims who, for the most part, are children, adolescents and women. Women are the most discredited. In the cases in which priests are accused of sexual abuse, most people take their side, doubt the word of the victim(s) and even blame them or imply that the priests were victims of a conspiracy. Girl victims are not considered credible because they are presented as easily influenced, prone to fantasy or liars. If they are adolescents, their morals are questioned: it is argued that they already had had sexual relations before the abuse or are guilty of seducing their abuser.
In the case of domestic abuse, especially in cases of father-child incest, the mother is accused of maliciously attempting to distance the child from the father, inventing the abuse out of revenge or because she is hysterical or any other argument that serves to safeguard the figure of the father of the family or the Father of the parish. In both cases, the common sensibilities of the population are exploited: tolerance of male sexual behavior fed by the dominate sexual morality, which makes the argument of false reports even more credible than the martyrdom and accusations of the victims.
To compare the consequences that a child may suffer with the separation of his or her parents, even in a messy divorce, with the short- and long-term consequences of father-child abuse is a perverse strategy that denies the serious and profound attack on the victim's subjective integrity, which Jorge Barudy calls "attempted moral murder."
Parental alienation syndrome, the "malicious mother" and co-construction are non-scientific theories, and when used in the context of a trial, they violate the victim's constitutional rights as well as the Convention on the Rights of the Child, CEDAW and other agreements incorporated into our constitution in 1994.
We must remember that Richard Gardner's theories were developed in the United States through a method of trial and error that was applied directly in the courtroom in bitter divorce cases, which were ruled upon as Gardner was undertaking his research. In addition, the U.S. is one of the few countries that has neither ratified nor incorporated into its constitution the Convention on the Rights of the Child or CEDAW.
As Blanco Barea explains, in legal contexts based on human rights, those professionals who can carry out the therapy or treatment recommended by Gardner or his followers (such as "aversion therapy" plus the vicarious treatment of deprogramming and, as a precaution, the guarantee of visitation rights or the reversal of custody and/or total separation of the "alienating" parent and the "alienated" child) "are committing crimes of torture, obstruction of justice and legal fraud, and if they are related to the minors in question, they are also guilty of domestic violence."(23)
Child abuse, especially sexual abuse, is an alarming, universal problem. Increased attention and effective protection skills and prevention measures are necessary at family, local, national and international levels.
After a long tradition of silence, sexual abuse of children is being denounced more frequently and is becoming a topic for public and political discussion.
To alert governments and civil society organizations to the need to play a more active role in the promotion of and respect for the rights of the child (as put forth in article 19 and 34* of the Convention on the Rights of the Child) and to contribute to the prevention of child abuse, the Women's World Summit Foundation, WWSF, launched the World Day for Prevention of Child Abuse in 2000. The Day is commemorated every November 19 together with the anniversary of the International Day for the Rights of the Child (November 20). The objective of the World Day for Prevention of Child Abuse is to rally around the issue of child abuse and the urgent need for effective prevention programs.
To consolidate the global call for action, in 2001 WWSF launched an international NGO coalition that marks the World Day with appropriate events and activities to focus on and increase prevention education.
* For more information, visit the website of the Women's World Summit Foundation, https://www.woman.ch/children/1introduction.php.
* Art. 19 - States Parties shall take all appropriate legislative, administrative, social and educational measures to protect the child from all forms of physical or mental violence, injury or abuse, neglect or negligent treatment, maltreatment or exploitation, including sexual abuse, while in the care of parent(s), legal guardian(s) or any other person who has the care of the child.
* Art. 34 - States Parties undertake to protect the child from all forms of sexual exploitation and sexual abuse. For these purposes, States Parties shall in particular take all appropriate national, bilateral and multilateral measures to prevent:
(a) the inducement or coercion of a child to engage in any unlawful sexual activity;
(b) the exploitative use of children in prostitution or other unlawful sexual practices;
(c) the exploitative use of children in pornographic performances and materials.
The author is a psychologist, a founder of the Casa de la Mujer in Rosario, Argentina, and a longtime defender of the rights of women and children.
Notes
(1.) Selected facts and figures from various UN documents, part of the 2006 Open Letter from the Women's World Summit Foundation on the World Day for Prevention of Child Abuse, 19 November. Available online at http://www.woman.ch/children/1-openletter.php.
(2.) Alicia Ganduglia (2003) "El backlash: un nuevo factor de riesgo," in Maltrato Infantil. Riesgos del compromiso profesional, Silvio Lamberti, ed., Buenos Aires: Editorial Universidad, p. 75.
(3.) David Finkelhor (1979) Sexually Victimized Children. New York: The Free Press, p. 2.
(4.) Richard A. Gardner (1985) "Recent Trends in Divorce and Custody Litigation." Academy Forum 29:2, Summer, pp. 3-7.
(5.) Richard A. Gardner (2002) "Does DSM-IV Have Equivalents for the Parental Alienation Syndrome (PAS) Diagnosis?" American Journal of Family Therapy, 31(1):1-21. See also Richard A. Gardner (2003) "The Parental Alienation Syndrome: Past, Present, and Future," in The Parental Alienation Syndrome: An Interdisciplinary Challenge for Professionals Involved in Divorce. W. von BochGallhau, U. Kodjoe, W Andritsky and P. Koeppel, eds. Berlin, Germany: VWB-Verlag fur Wissenshaft and Bildung, pp. 89-125.
(6.) Maria Jose Blanco Barea (2006) "El sindrome inquisitorial estadounidense de alineacion parental," p. 11. This document may be downloaded from http://www.revistaiuris.com/MISC/8618/borrador%20el%20sindrome%20inquisitorial%20del%20sap.doc.
(7.) The interview with Dr. Ralph Underwager was originally published in Paidika, Issue 9, 1993, and has been reproduced online at http://www.nostatusquo.com/ACLU/NudistHallofShame/Underwager2.html.
(8.) Richard A. Gardner (1992) True and False Accusations of Child Sex Abuse. Cresskill, New Jersey: Creative Therapeutics, pp. 46-7.
(9.) Ibid. p. 549.
(10.) Ibid. p. 585.
(11.) Ibid. p. 612.
(12.) Richard A. Gardner (1986) Child Custody Litigation: A Guide for Parents and Mental Health Professionals. Cresskill, New Jersey: Creative Therapeutics, p. 93
(13.) Richard A. Gardner (1992) pp. 24-25.
(14.) Ibid. p. 593.
(15.) See note 5.
(16.) From the Preamble to the Inter-American Convention on the Prevention, Punishment and Eradication of Violence against Women, also known as the Convention of Belem do Para, adopted by the OAS General Assembly June 9, 1994; entry into force March 5, 1995.
(17.) Maria Jose Blanco Barea (2006) p. 219.
(18.) John E. B. Myers (n.d.) "What is 'Parental Alienation Syndrome' and Why Is It So Often Used Against Mothers?" an excerpt from a forthcoming book titled A Mother's Nightmare: A Practical Legal Guide for Parents and Professionals. Available online at http://www.gate.net/~liz/fathers/pas.htm.
(19.) Maltrato Infantil. Riesgos del compromiso professional. Silvio Lamberti, ed., Buenos Aires: Editorial Universidad, 2003. The contributing authors were Maria Ines Bringioti, Cristina Caprarulo, Julio Cesar Castro, Alicia Ganduglia, Norberto Garrote, Isabel Gens, Eva Giberti, Carmen Gonzales, Irene Intebi, Victoria Irazuzta, Silvio Lamberti, Patricia Paggi, Mirta Pirozzo, Carlos Rozanski, Diana Sanz, Juan Pablo Maria Viar, Maria Cristina Vila and Juan Carlos Volnovich.
(20.) Regina Soares Jurkewicz (2005) Develando la politica del silencio: Abuso sexual de mujeres por sacerdotes en Brasil. Brazil: Red Latinoamericana de Catolicas por el Derecho a Decidir.
(21.) Pepe Rodriguez (2002) Pederastia en la Iglesia Catolica: Delitos sexuales del clero contra menores: Un drama silenciado y encubierto por los obispos. Barcelona: Ediciones B.
(22.) Regina Soares Jurkewicz (2005) pp. 20-22.
(23.) Maria Jose Blanco Barea (2006) p. 219.

Before we get into the main debate of what is Al-Salat, allow me to summarize the latest research in the field of mindful meditation and ritualistic chanting. And how it all ties into the freeing of our minds to become more rational, positive, forward looking and grounded.
I will touch on a few findings and give the links to the relevant studies at the bottom of this write-up.
Feeling like your thoughts are in a never-ending loop?
Ever find yourself obsessing over a work email you sent, wondering if you could've worded it better? Or maybe replaying a social interaction that didn't go as smoothly as you hoped? That’s what the relevant experts call rumination, and it’s like your brain is stuck in a loop, fixating on moments you wish you could redo.
Understanding Rumination: Think of your brain as a high-powered, incredibly efficient processor. When you're ruminating, it's as if this processor is running an inefficient program that's draining your mental battery, like when your laptop keeps overheating from too many open tabs. That would be me.
A few words on OCD: Now imagine your brain relentlessly bombarding you with intrusive thoughts, like a nagging doubt about whether you turned off the stove, even though you’ve checked it multiple times. Even more disturbing is when you try to assign blame to yourself for disasters miles away from you.
Intrusive thoughts: Why they happen and how to deal with them.
Occasionally, you’re minding your own business when a weird – and sometimes disturbing or upsetting – thought pops into your head. Why does your brain do this, and does it mean that you’re a bad person? Or even losing your mind. So, what is going on?
The Sci-Fi of Your Brain: The Default Mode Network (DMN): This network is like your brain’s background app. It’s most active when you're not focusing on the task at hand. It’s what kicks in when you’re showering and suddenly start overanalyzing a conversation from five years ago.
So, what is the fix?
Well, it so happens that meditation experience is associated with differences in default mode network activity and connectivity.
Hacking Your Brain’s Default Mode: The goal is to shift your brain from a state of unproductive rumination to proactive problem-solving. It's like choosing to focus on strategizing your career path or planning your next big adventure instead of dwelling on past mistakes.
The Power of Rituals and Chanting: Incorporating rituals or chanting might sound old-school, but it’s like a mental reset button. Starting your day with a mindfulness exercise or repeating affirmations like "I am capable and strong" can steer your mind away from intrusive thoughts and towards more constructive patterns.
Real Science Backs This Up: Regular practice over 4 to 6 weeks can rewire your brain, enhancing its ability to plan and solve problems – akin to updating your personal software to improve performance and efficiency in every aspect of your life.
The Bottom Line: It’s not about erasing your repetitive behavior; it's about updating your mental toolkit. You're not just stopping the negative cycles; you're starting positive ones. It's a mental upgrade, ensuring your brain is as optimized and forward-thinking as you are in your career and personal life.
There is growing evidence that simple, everyday changes to our lives can alter our brains.
That brings us to the Question, did God cover this extremely important part of our make up in the Quran? Where one can reset our brain’s neural networks in a matter of weeks and pull oneself back into the sphere of rationality from a reactionary emotional mess.
Two things are incessantly emphasized in the Quran, the establishing of Al-Salat and giving thought. Given this backdrop, we will now explore the wisdom behind how to achieve it through the verses of the Quran.
Unfortunately, there is a minority of folks out there who have failed to recognize the true wisdom behind the three times a day grounding exercise through Al-Salat. This lot has irrationally taken upon themselves to go against almost every culture out there and declare rituals as something bad. They then strangely identify Al-Salat as merely a ritual and then attempted to explain it away with linguistic gymnastics. Perhaps the important physical elements of it have thrown them off. I feel this is an emotional route. Rituals are not inherently bad. In terms of religion this is a reactionary approach. Just because bad religions use rituals doesn’t mean all rituals lose currency.
To be clear we will be discussing Al-Salat the noun. Repeated sixty-six times in the Quran (Salat is mentioned 99 times in all its forms). Once as plural and the rest of the time as singular. In fact, I view it as an aid and much closer to mindful meditation. Equating Al-Salat with meditation is very tempting. Especially when long-term practitioners of the ‘art’ put a lot of emphasis on awareness. As opposed to emptying one’s mind and all that jazz. Dhikr and be conscious (ٱتَّقِ), wrongly translated as fear, fits perfectly well here.
The very word Salat predates the revelation of Quran. This is not a new word, the word most probably migrated from Classical Syriac. The spelling of Salat differs from earlier Arabic literature, where ‘waw’ was often used instead of ‘Alif’. The pronunciation stays the same. Not surprisingly Quran mentions a number of earlier Prophets/Messengers engaged in Al-Salat.
Another thing to keep in mind is that both Al-Salat and Al-Zakat are mentioned together a total of 32 times in the Quran. Another 5 times the word spend is used in conjunction to remove any doubt as to what is meant by Al-Zakat. Out of the remaining 27 times Al-Salat is mentioned, 11 and possibly 12 times in instructional verses. Hence, a mere 15 out of a total of 66 mentions of Al-Salat are verses that decouple Al-Salat and Zakat, all the rest of noninstructional verses establish a very strong link between them. The significance of these exact numbers is perhaps a subject of separate research but this much is clear, they are intertwined in a very profound way. We should keep this link in mind when defining A-Salat and Al-Zakat.
The Quran, in addition to reminding us of our forgetful nature, also defines the three main objectives of Al-Salah. A prescribed prayer at designated times is a perfect cure for forgetful nature. The three objectives are:

1. Dhikr (Remembrance for want of a better term) Quran 20:14
2. To seek help from God Quran 2:45 and
3. The prevention of immorality and “evil” deeds Quran 29:45 and 19:59

Bonus effect: When Al-Salat and giving of Al-Zakat are clubbed together, it strengthens our certainty of faith in the hereafter. Quran 27:3. Once again we should keep this association in mind when attempting to define either of them.
If we were to ignore these three objectives and the one stated benefit, the distinction between Dhikr, praise and Al-Salat is blurred for starters (please see note 1 below), resulting in less than ideal conclusions. Two of the three objectives points to a one-way connection/communication. And to this day the word Al-Salat and to a greater degree simply Salat carries the same connotation in the Arabic language. Ministry of communication is called ‘wizarat alaitisalat’ (وزارة الاتصالات).
The third objective seems to be a passive result as opposed to active engagements of the first two. The overarching issue has to do with attention and emotion. Possibly linked to all high physiological arousal reactions like anger, lust, panic or anxiety and even insomnia. Hence, remedial measures must be undertaken to control them. More importantly, certain behavior and environment must be avoided in order not to accentuate unhealthy dose of these human responses. The goal is to reach the observed Gamma wave level meditation that heightens empathy and compassion. Which are counterweights to ‘evil’ tendances. Any way, we are in no position to second guess God on it and science agrees with God.
Let’s go through some of the definitions put forward by analysts for A-Salat. Restricting Al-Salat to a ‘Connection’ of late has become popular. Although linguistically accurate but substance wise is deficient. In that case clapping and whistling is a great way to make a connection. Why would God not accept that? Besides, calling Al-Salat a connection is like calling water wet, accurate but devoid of any real substance.
One school of thought have argued that Al-Salat is referred to as a system of governance or social justice. For me, if that was the case then in sixty six repetitions of the word in the Quran, God would have mentioned it at least once. It is also important to note that when God wants us to establish the system, the Deen, He says just that "establish the Deen" (أقيموا الدين) Quran 42:13.
Besides if we were to take Al-Salat as ‘the’ system then are we to establish three ‘the’ systems? Al-Fajr, Al-Isha and Al-Wusta, and how are they different? Right there is your first logical contradiction. This is compounded by the fact that Quran also refers to Al-Salat in the plural form, Al-Salawati Quran 2:238:3.
Coming back to the issue of ritual, In Quran 2:43 it says " bow with those who bow" a ‘ritual’ act. And in other verses the standing bowing (form can be different) and supplication is mentioned together in the same verses Quran 22:26 and 2:125, clearly pointing to a ‘ritual’ (clarity on this below). God also warns us against empty rituals Quran 2:177 hence an implied nonempty ritual can be deduced from it. In fact, God points out the distortion of the Salat and describe it in these terms “And not was their prayer at the House except whistling and clapping ......”. It is clear from this that this distortion was from some form of correct way of performing Al-Salat. No amount of imagination can distort a whole ‘System’ and reduce it to ‘whistling and clapping’. Besides, the verse clearly points to a particular location as opposed to a city or state. Which would have been the case if Salat was a system.
There are a few dissenting voices beside the system crowd. Let me first deal with one school that has split the Al-Salat to mean ‘following closely’ on one hand and introduce the notion of a congressional Salat or gathering to discuss matters of Deen. When the prefix ‘the’ is added onto ‘the following closely’ it becomes nonsensical. Furthermore, Quran 62:9-10 specifically deals with the Al-Salat performed in a congregational settings. Hence, that clearly shoots down that particular notion or at least the second part of the split. There is no basis for this splitting Al-Salat in the Quran.
Even if we were to entertain the notion, there are a number of difficulties inherent in this approach. Since Al-Salat is decreed upon all believers, forcing young mothers with small children to show up at least twice a day to discuss Deen betrays a male mind doing its thing. God informs us that He doesn't put undue burden on us. Performing Al-Salat three times in the comfort of one's home makes much more sense and is doable.
Young mothers, a sizable portion of any community, can manage that but leaving home twice and participating in any meaningful Deen discussion is a totally different proposition. A minimum one hour turn around for each Salat is being generous. To first instruct believers over 60 times to establish Al-Salat and then give 30 to 40 percent adults a pass is not only illogical but dilutes the importance of Al-Salat all together.
Now when we take into consideration people living in remote areas where the next house is several miles away, these regular sessions start to look like a nonstarter. Add to it adverse weather conditions and the idea of ‘sessions’ as far as I am concerned was dead on arrival.
Another logical difficulty in accepting the notion of a separate meeting/ gathering to discuss Deen is that as per Quran 62:9 after the prayer is concluded, we are then to disperse in the land to seek from God's bounty. The thing to note here is that the Al-Salat is supposed to conclude. That means it will have to be initiated with a new beginning each time. While it is logical to seek God's bounty after the congressional Al-Salat, which is stated to be in the daytime, but it is illogical to disperse in the land after the Isha Al-Salat and seek God's bounty. God is explicit in telling us that night is for rest.
Following as opposed to following closely above and/or commitment is another alternative to the traditional Al-Salat presented without a clear explanation except for a remote linguistic argument. Following or committing to what? Establishing The Deen is a separate endeavor, as mentioned above, that is where we are supposed to follow and commit to. And how do you "establish" ‘the’ following or ‘the’ commitment? Grammatically it doesn't make sense. Logically it clashes with the primary meaning of (أَقَامُوا) which has the connotation of standing still or setting something, which is the opposite of following or motion.
Furthermore, why doesn't following include giving zakat? Why is Al-Zakat mentioned and not simply Zakat all the time? Why is Al-Zakat mentioned with Al-Salat as something separate twenty-five times out of a total of twenty-nine? Purifying wealth by giving it away makes perfect sense and is an integral part of The Deen but purifying as an abstract notion alone is not from the Quran. In fact, God has gone ahead and used the word ‘spend’ (أنفق) multiple times with Al-Salat in instances where Al-Zakat is not mentioned. Quran 2:3, 8:3, 13:22, 14:31, 22:35, 35:29, 42:38. God goes ahead and use the same word in negation in another verse, Quran 9:54 to remove all doubt.
If we were to understand the standing bowing and supplication as a ‘ritual’, it does not contradict any of the verses where Al-Salat is mentioned. (Please see all instances of Al-Salat mentioned in the Quran below Note 3). But when a piece meal approach is taken then Salat, Hajj, fasting all can be made to mean different things based on how they appear in certain verses. The test is to reach conclusions without once introducing contradictions into all the instances where the notion and related words are used.
Whenever the word Salat is used without the ‘Al’, the context of those verses is self-explanatory, like Quran 9:84, 9:103, 33:56. But if we were to assume that Al-Salat could not mean ‘ritual’ then we are left with a lot of verses that have to be explained away in a manner that either border on contradiction or crosses into it. A Quranic impossibility.
Allow me to elaborate a bit more on the proposed system (Social system, Justice system, Socioeconomic system) aspect. How did the Prophet of God implement social order? Did he go around and repeatedly tell people that they should establish social order and social justice? Obviously not.
In fact, the people he was preaching to believed that they already have a social and justice system in place. Merely telling them that they should replace one social and justice system with another was not going to cut it. Besides, God in the Quran has detailed the various element of a just social order. By not focusing on these details and instead resorting to merely telling people to do something and that too in a high-level abstract manner is unlikely to bore results. If it was so easy, then unleashing a flock of trained parrots on them would be the most cost-effective way to bring about behavior change. God would never repeatedly waste words on such an unwise strategy. It is a testament to God’s wisdom that to establish The Deen (The actual social order) Quran 42:13 is mentioned just once in the entire Quran.
That brings us to the real issue of behavior change. Behavior changes and that too of a fundamental nature must start with individuals. It is easy to rile a crowd in a negative way but to establish and implement good needs behavior change on an individual level. This is important because in order to bring about change in a community we need influencers; we need role models. The commercial types have nailed this to the wall. They spend real and big money to get the services of influencers. In order to implement a new social order, we need individuals from whom everything good and proper literally drips. People flock to genuinely good people. Genuinely good people leading disciplined lives are in a best position to implement good change.
What is the best strategy to bring about changes amass but focus on an individual? The first element that must be identified and agreed upon is the Change Method. Mindful meditation as a change method is in itself a powerful tool for self-growth. And when mindful meditation is based on specific Divine instructions it becomes a force multiplier. Not only does meditation develop all the various faculties but it also establishes a regular communication with God.
The practice of meditation can be found in almost all cultures. Modern thinking had been suspicious of the practices and till recently altogether dismissed it as a pseudo mumbo-jumbo. The crazy part in all this was, and still lingers on, is that even when practitioners swear by it, the skeptics stick to their guns. Dozens of scientific studies have put the matter to rest. Not only does mindful meditation alter behavior but studies have shown it alters the physiology of the brain towards good. It was not surprising then that it was a matter of time before it was introduced into mainstream medicine.
Mindful meditation in all its forms is about doing something as opposed to talking about it. This is consistent with all successful behavior change techniques. Habit forming acts help change behavior and prolonged behavior change processes result in change in attitudes. Eventually leading to a desired character. Al-Salat is an ideal Change Method, one of the most fundamental elements in behavior change theory.
Instead of dishing the Al-Salat, when done in a mindful manner, first, ask the people who are engaged in it. It is a simple process, ask them if it helps them become closer to God and prevents them from immoralities. God in fact, warns us about empty ritual as already stated, God does not dismiss rituals as such. The message of the Quran is focused on individuals. We will be judged solely on what we did or did not do individually. God does not even force us to change a chaotic hopeless community, God actually makes it mandatory on those with means to extract themselves from such communities. To blame those engaged in self-improvement on all the ills of the world is a strange position.
When likeminded individuals decide on forming a community then God has given details of how individuals should interact among themselves. The implementation of a social just order falls on those who have already worked on themselves and already achieved a clear sense of right and wrong and have learnt to live a disciplined lifestyle. A just social order is not implemented by undisciplined individuals through vague instructions thrown at them. But individuals respond to precise instructions to be carried out at specific times in order to bring about positive changes towards self-improvement.
One of the objectives of Salat is Dhikr as mentioned above and one of the dangers of neglecting Dhikr is (ضَنْكًا), a position of difficulty, perplexity, distress, or need. Quran 20:124. Keeping in mind the forgetful nature of man, what better way to ensure engaging in Dhikr at least three time a day than establishing Mindful meditation in the form of Al-Salat. With the added physical elements of standing bowing and prostration ensure body and mind workout. Add to it the ritual washing in preparation of Al-Salat and you have all the necessary building blocks of a well-rounded development. And regularly asking God for help during Salat is a bonus.
It is a serious overreach to dismiss easily understood terms and try and twist them to mean something vague and far removed from their default meanings. Since God is privy to the future then why would God first reference the Arabic language and then insert terms along with the mention of Al-Salat that would make Al-Salat evolve to mean something completely different to the coming generations? This would neither be preserving the message nor make it easy to understand.
Instead of blaming mindless Al-Salat and altogether getting rid of it, we should promote mindful Al-Salat. To twist Jonathan Sacks’s words
“The cure for bad Al-Salat is good A-Salat, not no Al-Salat, just as the cure for bad science is good science, not the abandonment of science.”
Hence, when we take Quran 4:101 to 4:103 together, a logical slam dunk materializes. There are three aspects in these three verses. The first is that Al-Salat has a beginning for which a call is made. The second aspect is that Al-Salat has a conclusion. (The word used in Quran 4:103 for this is (قضيتم). Attempts have been made to twist this very clear term. But it is clear to any Arabic speaker that almost all connotations of this word point to coming to an end.) The third is that Al-Salat can be shortened. All in a course of a day or part of a single day. In addition, it shoots down some of the linguistics gymnastics that are initiated to try and prove that Al-Salat has no ritualistic aspects to it.
Those who have declared that standing, bowing and prostration doesn’t mean physical activities then after the Al-Salat is concluded, what are we to make of standing sitting and laying on one’s side? (The remembering aspect is repeated in Quran 3:191 in these exact terms). So, are we to engage in the remembrance of God first in a non-ritualistic manner and then conclude doing so but at the same time continue to remember God again in non-ritualistic manner.
Hence, standing doesn’t mean standing during A-Salat and apparently standing doesn’t mean standing after its conclusion. Let us keep in mind that during Al-Salat, Quran gives us a sequence of physical steps that is standing, bowing and prostration in the relevant verse. Then it gives us a slightly different sequence of physical states after its conclusion of standing, siting and lying on one’s side. The genius of the Quran is that whenever somebody wants to twist straightforward wording of God, Quran takes it to them till they are forced to see sense. It is no surprise the that for them to make their claim plausible they essentially have to rewrite the meaning of commonly understood everyday use words. Although, the etymology of these words has not changed at all to this day.
Then when you (have) finished the Al-Salat, then remember Allah standing and sitting and (lying) on your sides. But when you are secure then establish the Al-Salat. Indeed, the Salat is on the believers prescribed (at) fixed times. Quran 4:103
In any case, the mention of Circumambulation in Quran 2:125 along with standing, bowing, and prostration firmly points to physical acts. There is some discussion of the word for prostration being the adjective qualifying bowing but then there is Quran 3:43 where they are separated by an “and” after reversing the order of occurrence. In either case, it is still a physical act. Although there is no indication of stringing them together other than the order in which they are mentioned. But the way I see it that is consistent with God's mercy of not making it too rigid. This gives us the flexibility to do it in a manner that suits the needs of each one of us.
The notion that standing bowing prostration doesn't mean all those things because their use in some verses points to a different context is strange. If we were to reverse this logic and make those different contexts as the baseline, then standing should not mean standing anywhere in the Quran. Besides, how will ‘following closely’ or ‘social justice’ or ‘system’ resolve this objection?
At least in the case of submission of birds and seemingly innate objects Quran 24:41, please note that the term used is not Al-Salat. In any case we must keep in mind Quran 3:7. All verses with injunctions are not in need of seeking the help of Quran 3:7. But here is when the allegorical references within verses applies. God is giving us a sense of what is going on by the use of familiar terms like Salat, (note the verse did not use Al-Salat) and prostration which He has already taught us, and we know exactly what they mean. God also warns us that we should not take these context specific terms in instances like these and run with them. All the other above-mentioned proposals won’t even make sense with the application of Quran 3:7.
Besides, by that logic then glorifies shouldn’t mean glorifies because that is exactly what all creation of God does. Quran 61:1
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Good morning, Ladies. Sorry I missed posting yesterday and I'm so late today. As you know, I've been driving our friend Bernie to her radiation sessions. I told her that all of us have have been chanting for her fast and full recovery. She wanted me to pass on a message from her (rhyming with), "No Cluck!" If you have a Starfleet Universal translator, in Bernie-ese that means "Thank you!❤️🌹🙏"
I promised I would get some links up about Blanche's fixation on Brian Victoria and her desperation to ghost any and all of the early history of the Soka Gakkai. Andinio responded here, here, and here.
This morning let's finish examining the historical significance of the month of July. In the first section, "The Spirit of Selfless Dedication Embodied by the First Three Presidents," Sensei concludes:

The first three presidents confronted persecution with a selfless commitment to kosen-rufu—a spirit expressed in the Lotus Sutra as “not begrudging one’s body or life” (see The Lotus Sutras and Its Opening and Closing Sutras, p. 229). That commitment exemplifies the very essence of the Soka Gakkai and the truth and justice of its cause.

We have our district planning meeting tonight and I know some of you have similar schedules. We are also all trying to promote May Special Contributions. A district does not come with an owner's manual. We have to figure everything out and build it by hand. As I mentioned wednesday, Jim, our wonderful YMD friend, is graduating from college and moving to a new school, city, and district. There's a natural flow to these things. But are we determined to raise youth? Absolutely! But we recognize the challenge and the degree of effort it will take to surmount the psychology of "it's impossible, it can't be done."
Sensei ends this section with this thought:

Because “selfless dedication to propagating the Law” exists within the Soka Gakkai, we are certain to achieve the great vow for kosen-rufu, accomplish our personal human revolution and attain Buddhahood in this lifetime.

Ladies, we hail from three countries: USA, Austria, and Italy (sorry Canada, we know you miss Marilynnnn and Mariko, your loss is Italy's gain). We are fighting in now nine districts. We will certainly achieve the great bow in our respective places of mission!
Just a little friendly disclaimer here. I am taking the liberty to quote from Ikeda Sensei's lecture but slightly paraphrase for simplicity's sake. I am going to eliminate footnotes and brackets. Etc, etc, etc. Sue me, if you wish. For the original, please just click on the link above.

TITLE: COMA
Characters
Knight: Formal. Caring, like a bodyguard. Never speaks in contractions.
Bunny: Timid, cute, dependent.
Cheerleader: Full of happiness and glee.
Scientist: Logical. Matter-of-fact.
Fear Initially a grotesque hybrid of fear, anger, and depression. Her voice will sound more warped at first when she's in that amalgam state. When she becomes just plain old Fear, the voice changes to a less grotesque version.
Lilly: Person in love with the listener
Note: I'll be honest, I never expected and still don't expect this one to ever be performed. (If it ever does get performed, I'll erase this line and add "I knew it would be" later.) It has 6 distinct voices, is the longest single ASMR script I've written, is sfx heavy, and gets a little rowdy for ASMR. But I wrote it for me. It's a companion piece to Lilly's Saga. After I was finished writing that series, I was wondering what a yandere victim's dreams would be like. That spawned this. Hope you enjoy reading it, because you'll probably never enjoy hearing it.
And, of course the typical, check this out: An Introduction To The Book That Is Me :
And this: Masterlist for edgiscript :
Although this isn't directly a chapter of Lilly's Saga, here's Part 4 that shows the listener being knocked out which leads to this dream. [F4M] Lilly's Saga - Part 4 of 7 [Concerned Speaker] [Suicidal Listener] [Not Eating] [Kidnap With Intent To Rescue] :
(Soft whooshing of wind as a light breeze floats by seeming to indicate a mysterious transition of some kind. Sound of a horse approaching speedily, then stopping quickly.)
Knight: Whoa, whoa, girl. Whoa.
(Quickly climbing off horse and kneeling beside listener.) There you are, my love. I was informed you had entered this land unprepared for the dangers ahead. I see now that my informants were correct. It has been a while since you’ve visited these lands. What has happened to you? You seem very shaken. Are you injured?
(Pause.)
No? Good. Very good. Then you should be able to assist me on my quest. Come, we must ride quickly if we are to…
(A sudden gust of wind. Horse whinnies as if frightened and speeds off.)
Wait! No, don’t.... Ohhhh, damn! Something has spooked her. There will be no way for me to get her back now myself, and you do not seem to be capable at the moment.
Well, there is nothing else for it. It appears that we are walking. Are you up to it, my love? Fortunately, where I need to be is not too far. I would like to offer you a chance to rest and get your bearings, but I am afraid that time is of the essence.
(Pause.)
You can walk. Good. Good. Then let us hurry.
(Sound of feet moving quickly and a sword being unsheathed.)
We must move quickly. I am afraid that the danger is already upon you. We must move quickly if we are to stand a chance to rescue you.
(Pause speaking but running doesn’t stop.)
That is correct. I believe that you are being attacked as we speak just over that hill. Do you have your sword with you?
(Pause.)
You do. Then draw it. I can see now that you are being taken. We must defend you.
(Knight rushes forward. There is the brief sound of sword-on-sword combat.)
Remove your hands from the prisoners, foul creature. You have no place here.
(A few more quick sounds of combat. Knight sheathes her sword.)
Good riddance, filth.
(To the listener.) Those trolls disgust me every time they decide to show their horrid faces.
You fought well, my love. I was concerned that in your current state you would not possess your typical adroitness in combat, but you leapt forward and removed the heads of four of those fiends before I could dispatch even one. Your skill with a blade has never ceased to amaze me. Now, let us see to the prisoners. Lilly, are you harmed?
Cheerleader: (Laughs.) Not at all, Lilly. That was exciting. Can we do it again?
Knight: (Smirks.) Heh, not now, Lilly. Maybe some other time. Lilly, how about you?
Bunny: No, Lilly, I don’t think so.
(To the listener.) Oh, my love, thank you for saving me.
Cheerleader: And me too. You were so dashing and brave, my love. And your sword was just, swoosh, swoosh, swoosh. You were so freaking cool. I haven’t been part of an adventure like that in a while.
Bunny: I was so scared without you here. Please, hold me.
(Pause.)
Thank you, my love. How I always long for your embrace. I only feel safe when you’re with me. I’d wrap my arms around you and hold you too if it weren’t for these ropes tying my arms down.
(Pause.)
Undo the ropes? Of course not, silly. I’m always tied up like this. You know that. Why would I not be tied up?
My love, are you all right? You don’t look like you usually do.
Cheerleader: Yeah, my love, that was so much fun. Why aren’t you smiling like you usually are after one of your glorious victories?
Knight: My love, Lilly is right. You appear confused and shaken similar to when I first found you in the nearby enchanted woods. Are you certain there is no injury that I may assist with?
(Pause.)
You are confused? About what? If you have questions, please ask them.
(Pause.)
Whoa, whoa, slow down, my love. You are incoherent when you speak that quickly. Please, calm down.
Bunny: Lilly, what’s going on? Why is he like this? I’m scared.
Knight: Calm down, Lilly. You’re always scared.
Cheerleader: That’s true, Lilly, but I’m a little scared too. Something is off here. The confusion of a mystery is fun. An adventure awaits. But the confusion that we appear to be having now is different somehow. It’s not fun, it’s disturbing. Do you understand?
Knight: Yes, I do understand, Lilly. Now, my love, please repeat your questions slowly and I will do my best to answer them.
(Pause.)
Where are we? I… I do not understand the question. We are… here, where we always are, with you.
Cheerleader: Why are we sometimes referring to ourselves as if we are you? Because we are you, you nut. We always have been.
Knight: I am concerned. This has never been a source of confusion before. Something does indeed give the impression of being seriously wrong.
(Pause.)
Yes, my love. We act like you have been here before because you have. We have fought many heroic battles together. Do you not recall?
Bunny: (Frightened.) Lilly, I’m scaring me.
Knight: Not now, Lilly.
(Pause.)
Yes, my love, go on. That right there, you say. We each call each other Lilly. Yes, that is our name, at least for the time being.
(Pause.) But how could it be our name when we claim to be you because that is not your name?
And you are obviously a man. If we are you as we say, then how could we all look like the same beautiful woman?
And why do we keep referring to you as “my love?” Well… to be certain, my love, we were hoping that you could explain that to us.
Bunny: How we appear to you is… well, it’s up to you.
Cheerleader: (Joyfully.) I’ve usually looked like one of your friends: Billy, Janey, even your cousin Mikey for a time. Everybody that I look like is soooooooo much fun. I have to say, I like this cheerleader outfit. It’s also fun. But I can’t tell you why I look like this particular girl. Is she a friend of yours? Friends are so much fun.
Knight: (Gallantly.) I have looked like many people before, but I always come to you as a knight in shining armor. I have appeared as your father and your mother. For a while I looked like Captain Nautilus from that book series you loved as a child. Every visage of mine has been one of nobility, courage, and honor in your eyes.
Bunny: (Sweetly.) And I’ve been a few things too, but I’ve usually been a cute little bunny, not the even cuter little bunny-girl that I am now. (Giggles.) When I was a bunny, I had a collar on. I wasn’t tied like I am now. But whatever I am, I’m always soft and adorable and something that makes you want to just pick me up and take care of me. And hold me. (Sighs.) I love being held.
Knight: The reason why we are all the same image of a beautiful lady of whom we have no memory eludes us. There… is a recent… I guess emptiness would be the best word for it, for I know of no other way to explain it. We have always known who we represent, but this appearance is new to us. We have no frame of reference.
Bunny: Lilly, what about Lilly.
Cheerleader: YES! Yes, yes, yes. LILLY!!! YAY! Let’s go see Lilly. She’ll know what’s happening.
Knight: I concur. Lilly should be a great help. Let us all be off at once.
Bunny: Uh, Lilly.
Knight: Oh, right. You remain tied. My love, could you do us a favor and call my steed back to us? Our journey would be much simpler if my horse could carry Lilly instead of one of us.
(Pause._
Cheerleader: Why, yes, you can bring Lilly’s horse back. You can bring whatever you want. If you imagine it, it will be here.
That is such a fun ability to have. Remember that time you and I fought alien invaders in spaceships? You gave us each the coolest starfighters to…
Knight: Lilly. I am sorry to interrupt, but please save that story for our trip. Right now, my love needs to concentrate on bringing back my steed. Please, my love, can you bring my horse back to where we are now?
(Pause.)
Yes, Lilly was correct. Whatever you imagine, we can use. So it should be no trouble for you to just call my horse back to my side.
(Pause.)
What do you mean? What were you thinking we should do instead?
Cheerleader: (Squeals in glee.) Look, look, look. My love has brought us a hovercar. I call shotgun!
Knight: I had better drive. I know the way.
Bunny: That means I get to cuddle in the back with my love. (Sighs longingly.) You wouldn’t mind holding me close in the back seat while we drive, would you?
(Brief pause.)
Wonderful. I’ll just rest my head on your chest while you hold me.
Cheerleader: Great! This will give me time to tell you all about the time we saved the Pachoran race from the evil invading Gloxnil horde.
Knight: Lilly, there is no need. We were all there.
Cheerleader: Oh, let me tell my story. It’ll be fun. There we were, a handful of defenders against a thousand. No, ten thousand. No, a hundred thousand.
Knight: (Annoyed.) Lilly.
Cheerleader: (Sound of a hovercraft ship racing off. Cheerleader voice begins to fade as she gets farther and farther away.) Their armies cloaked in shadowy evil. Our armor glistening in the sun. The anticipation of a mighty battle hung heavy overhead, but we were ready for whatever may come….
(Sound of a hovercar getting closer. Once here, it shuts down.)
Cheerleader: (Voice is faint at first, but gets louder as she gets closer.) And then you kicked in the door to the cell, rescued the princess, and carried her off to your castle where you lived happily ever after. The end.
Knight: I fail to remember the existence of catapults when we attempted to cross the moat.
Cheerleader: I know, but the catapults made the story more fun, so I added them.
Knight: Well, regardless, we have arrived. Lilly has a laboratory just inside those doors. My love, would you kindly carry Lilly there inside.
Bunny: Oh, yes. Please. That way I can continue to snuggle my head into your shoulder as you hold me with your big, strong arms.
Cheerleader: Oh, this is so exciting. Lilly always has another fun adventure for us to go on. (Squeals gleefully.)
(Crisp whooshing sound of a sliding door opening. Various sci-fi sound effects can be heard as ambiance.)
Knight: Lilly.
Scientist: Good, you’ve all arrived. I assumed that you’d be along shortly. Ah, you’ve brought my love. I wasn’t sure we’d be here in this way.
Knight: Yes, it has been a while since we have been here and ready for battle. I discovered my love in the enchanted woods.
Scientist: The enchanted woods? Interesting. But first, I’ve been getting some very odd readings as of late that have me extremely concerned and I need to know what you’ve all been experiencing. My love, what’s been happening out there?
Knight: Uh, Lilly, perhaps I should be the one to explain. You see, my love has not been himself lately. Something appears to be wrong with us.
Cheerleader: She’s right, Lil. It’s like we don’t understand what’s going on.
Bunny: Or who we even are. It’s scaring me.
Scientist: I see. Please elaborate to the extent that you’re able.
Knight: As I informed you, I discovered my love lying in the enchanted woods instead of our castle where he usually appears. He seemed dazed and bewildered at first. We then rescued Lilly and Lilly from some doubt ogres and loathing trolls. My love was as brave and as skilled as he has always been in battle, but as soon as the threat was over, he expressed… uncertainty.
Scientist: Uncertainty? About what?
Bunny: About everything. My poor baby.
Cheerleader: Lilly’s right, Lil. We’re lost right now. There’s something missing in our mind that we can’t quite explain. My love has questions that we can’t answer, as do we.
Knight: Lilly speaks truth. He did not know where he was or who we were, which we did our best to convey. However, he also had questions about things for which none of us could answer, such as why all of us look like variations on the same woman. You, in fact, also now appear this way as opposed to your previous form of an elderly, bearded gentleman.
Cheerleader: It hasn’t been very fun. Do you have any answers for us, Lil?
Scientist: I see. Well, I may be able to shed some light on our situation and get us headed in the right direction.
Cheerleader: Oh, good. A direction and hopefully a goal. That sounds more fun.
Scientist: A short while ago, several of my screens went blank and I lost several gigabytes worth of memory which I’m attempting to recover now. I’m concerned that a traumatic experience may have occurred in the real world which may be affecting our memory to a point.
(Pause.)
Yes, my love, the real world. Have you not been able to put it together from what Lilly, Lilly, and Lilly have shared with you? This is your mind. Lilly, the knight, is your bravery, courage, and honor. She is your sense of nobility and justice. The bunny-girl you’re carrying…
Bunny: And doing so wonderfully, I might add.
Scientist: She is your timidity, your introverted nature, your shyness. She is the desire within you for others to reach out and care for you. Meanwhile, the Lilly that you see in the cheerleader outfit over here…
Cheerleader: That would be me. Yay!
Scientist: …she is the part of you that seeks adventure, that thrills at excitement, and that craves a mystery. In short, she is the part of you that wants to have fun.
While I, in my lab-coat and glasses surrounded by futuristic equipment and paraphernalia of all types, am your logic, your reason, and your ability to correctly process information from all other aspects of your temperament as well as your ability to intelligently interact with the world around you.
(Pause.)
Yes, you’re right. We all take the form of what you most closely associate with that aspect of your personality. Right now we’re all the same person, and you’re wondering how that could be. When I informed me earlier that…
(Pause.)
What’s that, my love? Ah, yes. Of course. I can see how the fact that we are all referring to you in the first person as well as the third is confusing to you in your present circumstances. Please understand that, as we are all constructs in your own mind and therefore a part of you, referring to you as “I” or “we” at times just makes sense to us. And, in the past, you’ve always understood. But now, with the memory problems that we are all facing, that can make this more difficult for you.
Lilly, Lilly, Lilly, I suggest, for the time being, that we all refer to our primary individual as a separate entity for the sake of clarity. Do you concur?
Knight: Of course, my love. I understand how that would help me… I mean, how it would help you in this situation.
Cheerleader: Fine by me. It’s more fun to think of myself as somebody else anyway. I’m really good at that.
Bunny: And I’ll just keep calling you “my love.”
Scientist: Ah, yes, that. “My love.” Why do we keep calling you that? I may have at least a partial answer to that. Please allow me to continue my previous attempt at an explanation.
Our forms are created by someone or something of great importance to you. At present, we are asleep, or unconscious. I can’t be certain.
(Pause.)
This may be a dream, yes, but it’s also possible that we… apologies, that you are in a coma. As I said, several memories suddenly disappeared so I lack what I fear is vital information to answering that question.
However, I have two pieces of good news. One is that you still receive information while asleep, or at least while you’re not conscious. I have been monitoring your environment for several hours since whatever trauma wiped out my… I mean your, God, that’s a difficult habit to break, memories. Here, let me pull it up on the screen and show you what I mean.
(Other Lillies gasp.)
Cheerleader: It’s me.
Bunny: It’s all of us.
Knight: Lilly, who are we seeing?
Scientist: I’m not certain. I have only been able to surmise that she is someone of high importance to us, and that her name most certainly is Lilly.
Knight: Do we have sound? She seems to be speaking.
Scientist: Yes, of course. Let me get that.
Lilly: (Crying softly.) Please, my love, please wake up. I can’t do this without you. Please, please come back to me. I love you. I love you so much. Don’t leave me, my love.
Scientist: As you heard, she is expressing a deep love for you and refers to you as “my love.” She is clearly the source of our appearances and the reason why we refer to you as “my love” constantly.
Cheerleader: That poor girl.
Bunny: I’m frightened for her. I want to hold her.
Knight: Lil, is there any other information we have on her?
Scientist: Only one memory. That’s the second piece of good news. Initially, it vanished like the others but then reappeared shortly afterwards. I believe its reappearance may have something to do with your successful skirmish with the ogres. Here, take a look.
Lilly: No. Stop. Please.
Bunny: Oh, no. She’s being attacked by other kids. Those big meanies. What are they doing?
Knight: (Unsheathes her sword.) I have to help.
Scientist: Put your sword away, Lilly. This is a memory. We can’t do anything. But keep watching.
(Sound of Knight putting her sword away.)
Cheerleader: Hey, you saved her. You fought those bullies off… and now you’re threatening them if they come near her again. Wow, why didn’t you remember that? That was so much fun. A real life adventure.
Lilly: You, you saved me. Thank you. I didn’t think anybody cared.
Scientist: Watch what happens next.
Knight: Oh my.
Bunny: She, she kissed me. I mean you. She kissed you, my love.
Cheerleader: How did you forget this? This has got to be the greatest thing that’s ever happened to you. WOW!!! What a cutie. I’ll bet you blushed sooooooo badly.
Knight: And you say this memory just reappeared.
Scientist: Yes, as I said before, shortly after your skirmish.
Knight: So he may need to re-experience some things in order to regain these memories and find out who this Lilly is?
Scientist: A sound hypothesis but I’m not certain that the experience itself was what caused the memory to resurface. It’s possible that the ogres and trolls may have had something to do with it and therefore destroying them freed the memory.
In addition, other stimulus may be effective as well. My love, would you mind setting Lilly… um, I mean, bunny-girl down for a moment. There’s something I want you to see.
Bunny: Well, I’d rather he didn’t, but go ahead, my love. Only because this might help you.
Scientist: Thank you. Now, please take a look at these.
Cheerleader: This picture that you’re showing him. It’s his parents. They’re smiling. They loved him so much.
Knight: Lil, this memory, this was right before…
Scientist: Yes, right before they died in that car accident.
Bunny: Oh, put it away. I don’t want to see this.
Scientist: Now, my love, please look at this image.
Knight: I remember this building. This is the orphanage where he stayed for a short time afterwards.
Scientist: That is correct. My love, you were brought here while the authorities tried to locate any family or friends that might be willing to take you in.
You were sixteen, almost seventeen. The authorities couldn’t find anybody else that wanted you, and so this became your home for a little over a year.
Bunny: (Sad.) You were sad. You missed your parents so much, and nobody else would help. Nobody else wanted you. Nobody else would comfort you or hold you.
Cheerleader: (Melancholy.) I’m afraid I wasn’t much help at that time. Losing your parents,… well, that just sucks the fun out of anything. And, and you missed mom and dad so much.
Knight: (Sorrowfully.) And I am afraid that I failed you as well. I am truly sorry. I just wanted to hide for a while. I lacked the strength for bravery. I lacked the will to defend you as I should have.
Scientist: I, however, was very active. While most of you shut down for a time, I was constantly recording and analyzing the situation seeking possibilities and a way out. Here are some images I’ve saved. Take a look.
Knight: Yes. I remember that lamp. Those curtains. The bookcase. The way the wood floors creaked when you would walk.
Cheerleader: That picture over there. The dinner table. I remember that. It was your only source of joy for a while. The meals reminded you… of mom.
Bunny: The last picture, the bed, it was your hiding place. You spent a lot of time snuggled into those blankets. So many tears.
Scientist: But have you noticed something strange about each image?
Knight: Yeah, you are right. There is something blurred out of each one.
Bunny: Something you can’t quite remember?
Scientist: Now, let me go back to the end of the first memory.
Cheerleader: You picked Lilly up after the attack and you carried her home.
Bunny: I like that memory. It’s snuggly.
Scientist: Now, my love, pay close attention to her house as we drop her off.
Knight: (Gasps.) It is the same house. That is the orphanage where you were brought after your parents died. Which means Lilly must have lived there too.
Cheerleader: Lil, is she the blurry one in the images?
Scientist: That would be my guess. My love, examine those images again. What do you see now?
Bunny: Look, Lilly is appearing on the bed. She’s trying to comfort you.
Cheerleader: And she’s sitting next to you at dinner. Oh, I love solving a mystery.
Knight: And the room with the lamp and the curtains. She is there offering you flowers. How could it be that she was blurred out of these images until now?
Scientist: I’m not certain, but I suspect…
Fear: You suspect the truth.
(Sound of a sword unsheathed as Knight draws her weapon in response to the sudden threat.)
Fear: We are not sleeping peacefully. We have been attacked. We have been assaulted. We… have… been… VIOLATED!!!
Knight: Stay back, foul creature. I do not know what you are, but I will not allow you to hurt my love.
Fear: Don’t give me your self-righteous rhetoric, HYPOCRITE! If you truly wanted to protect my love, you would be standing with me. I am the one protecting him now.
Knight: My love, draw your weapon. We can take on this threat together.
Fear: He cannot. You see how he stands immobilized right now. I have been working to prepare him for this threat for some time now. He knows my voice. He knows of what I speak. He is in my control.
Bunny: What are you?
Cheerleader: Seriously. You’re kind of like us, but a grotesque, misshapen, three-headed version of us. Ewwww.
Fear: Come now. Do you truly not know who I am? The science girl understands.
Knight: Lil?
Scientist: Remember when I said most of you shut down for a time? This one remained active. Well, I say this one. It’s actually an amalgamation of three different aspects of my love’s personality; fear, anger, and depression.
Cheerleader: And one hundred percent nauseating.
Knight: Fear? You are in there? What are you doing? You should be by my side. You were always a part of our adventures, a voice of wisdom in dangerous situations helping to protect my love against foolishness or potential harm.
Fear: Which is what I’m doing now, fool. It is you who stand opposed to my love, not by his side. You claim to protect him, yet you take the face of his BETRAYOR!!
Knight: What? Lilly? The girl from the memories? She was trying to help, to comfort.
Fear: ALL LIES!!! She seeks us to destroy us.
Knight: I have had enough of this. Enough of you. You will cease your bitter assault on my love now. I will make you stop.
(Knight lunges at Fear, but a blast fires from Fear slamming Knight to the ground and pinning her there. The sword that was in her hand clanks on the ground nearby.)
Bunny: What the…? Where did this pulsating blast from your chest come from? How are you pinning Lilly to the ground like that? I’m scared. My love, hold me.
Fear: No! Stay away from my love, timid creature.
(A second blast radiates out from Fear pinning Bunny to the ground.)
Fear: I will not allow you to infect my love with your desire for compassion and approval. They are bait to lure him into the hunter’s snare. Your desire for the love of others leaves you weak and open to their vicious lies and it will be my love’s undoing.
Knight: (Struggling.) How… are you… doing… this?
Fear: I am so much more powerful than you can handle. When I understood the threat, I began merging with anger and depression in order to properly deal with the threat. I have been building my strength, focusing my power, and now that my enemy has revealed herself, I will deal with her my way.
Knight: Lilly… is not… an… enemy.
Scientist: To be certain, it appears that she may very well be.
Knight: Lil? What… are you saying?
Scientist: It is apparent that my love is in the unconscious situation that he is now facing due to a trauma of some sort. Exactly what that trauma is or what caused it has been unknown, however, I have surmised that it has something to do with Lilly.
For whatever reason, we have all taken her likeness. And, as I said before, after you took action and rescued Lilly and Lilly, a memory of Lilly surfaced. All seems to be centered around her, and so it seems likely that the traumatic experience may as well. You there, Lilly.
Fear: Do not call be by the name of the hated one.
Scientist: Very well, fear creature, the ogres and trolls sent to capture Lilly and Lilly, they were your minions, were they not?
Fear: Indeed, they were.
Scientist: It was a preventative attack to keep them from foiling your plans. You have information that we do not. You have the missing memories, don’t you?
Fear: Indeed, I do.
Scientist: Well then, by all means, show us. Show the rest of us, and my love, why you have decided to take this course of action.
Fear: By all means. See for yourselves the force of our undoing, the source of my hatred.
Knight: That’s… my love.
Scientist: Yes, I recognize our apartment. This memory takes place shortly after we turned eighteen and left the orphanage. In fact, if my calculations are correct by the existence and placement of certain objects in the room I know we recently purchased, this memory took place yesterday.
Fear: Very clever, and very correct. You were all in hiding, wallowing in pity when you should have been defending my love. I took action. Depression, anger, they helped me drive him. They helped me prepare him. But I didn’t have enough control yet to prevent… this.
Bunny: Hey, it’s Lilly. She’s in his room. What’s she doing there?
Lilly: Shh, shh, shhhhh. My love, it’s ok. It’s ok.
Knight: What… what did she… do?
Lilly: It’s ok, my love. I know the needle hurt, but it’ll just put you to sleep, ok. Don’t worry. I’ve got you. I’ve got you. You’re going to be ok. I’ll make sure of that. I promise. I love you. It’s ok. I promise I’ll make everything ok.
Bunny: Lilly. It was Lilly that did this to us.
Fear: Now do you see? I knew an attack was coming. I knew we were truly on our own. When our mother and our father died, there was nobody left. Nobody wanted us. We were loathed, despised, HATED!!! Only I knew. Only I could see. Someone would take advantage of our isolation. It was Lilly. Lilly harmed us. Lilly stole us. I will be the one to save us. I will… OUCH!
Cheerleader: Ha, ha. Didn’t see that coming, did ya, ya stupid dink.
Fear: What are you doing?
Cheerleader: What I always do. I’m on an adventure, but this time, you’re the bad guy. Hyah!
Fear: AARRRGH!!! Stop it. You’re hurting me.
Cheerleader: Uh, duh. That’s kind of the point.
You were so focused on little miss bunny ears and the big bad knight over there, that you totally weren’t watching when I picked up her sword. You may be more powerful as three in one, but you’re already spending two thirds of your power holding down two of us. The makes the odds one to one the way I see it.
And, I’ve got a sword. So, you know what. I’m going to place the odds back on our side. Let’s cut depression out of the picture, shall we. Hyah!
Fear: Nooooooooooo!
Cheerleader: And now to behead anger. Hyah!
Fear: Stop! What have you done? (Voice fades back to regular Fear here.) You’ve ruined everything.
Cheerleader: Ruined, saved, to-may-to, to-mah-to. Hear you go, Lilly. You can have your sword back. And let me help you up.
Knight: Thanks, Lilly. Good work, there.
Bunny: Isn’t someone going to help me up too.
Cheerleader: Sorry, Lilly. Here you go.
Bunny: Thanks.
Fear: You fools. You’ve doomed us all. I needed control. I needed to save us. You were too weak to understand the threat. You’re too weak to handle this.
Scientist: That is a possibility. But it is also possible that your actions have only harmed us further.
Fear: How can you say that. You saw the evidence. She attacked us.
Scientist: We only saw the evidence you wished to present. But I suspected that there was more that you didn’t want us to see.
You took all of the footage of Lilly away from our love and from the rest of us because you didn’t want us forming our own conclusions. When your minions were stopped, some of what you hid was released. And when Lilly stopped you now…
Cheerleader: (Brightly.) You’re welcome.
Scientist: …your hold on the rest of my love’s memories have also been released. Let’s go back to that dinner scene, shall we?
Lilly: Thank you for sitting with me. You’re the best friend I’ve ever had.
Scientist: Not exactly the words of an enemy.
Fear: She’s a liar. She’s manipulating us.
Scientist: And this one.
Lilly: I got these flowers for you. I know they were your mom’s favorites. I hope they cheer you up.
Fear: Stop it. Stop playing this back.
Scientist: And sitting by us on the bed.
Lilly: I know what you’re going through. I went through the same thing when my parents died. I wish you would let me in. I want to help you. I… I love you.
Fear: LIES!! Can’t you all see it! She was setting us up!
Scientist: And you may be correct, but you are examining the evidence only through the eyes of fear. A good scientist examines all of the evidence in its proper context, not just isolated bits and pieces.
Remember how I told you all that even while asleep we record what’s around us. Watch this.
Cheerleader: Hey, this is his room. This is his bedroom before his parents died.
Bunny: He’s sleeping, but Lilly is there. How is Lilly there?
Knight: This is after we rescued her from those bullies, but before the death of our parents.
Scientist: That is correct. Now listen.
Lilly: (Softly. Lovingly, but mournfully.) I wish you could hear me now. I wish I was brave enough to tell you to your face just how much… I love you. When my parents died, I was so alone. I was so afraid. I thought I had nobody.
Bunny: That sounds like how my love felt.
Knight: Shh, I want to hear this.
Lilly: And then you came along. You rescued me. You saved me. But more than that, you held me. You made me feel something again. You made me feel love again.
I know that I kissed you unexpectedly. I’m sorry about that, by the way. I didn’t mean to. It just happened.
But you didn’t flinch. You didn’t pull away. You kissed me back… and then smiled at me. You carried me home and made sure I was safe before you left.
I want you to know how grateful I am and how wonderful I think you are. I see you at school all of the time. I know you’ve seen me too, because you’ve smiled at me several times. You even walked towards me once. I think you wanted to talk with me… but I ran away.
I’m so sorry. I guess I’m still fighting on the inside with the fear that nobody can really love me.
Cheerleader: Preaching to the choir, sister.
Bunny: Amen.
Knight: Would you both shut up!
Lilly: Anyway, you keep smiling at me whenever you see me. Thank you for that. It makes my day.
You don’t walk up to me anymore, but I know that even that is because you care. You don’t want to frighten me.
But I’m getting stronger, I promise. Your love is helping me grow. And when I’m strong enough, I’ll tell you, and I’ll do whatever it takes to love you back. You deserve all of my love. I’ll protect you the way you protected me. I’ll always love you, I promise.
(Pause.)
Scientist: There’s more. Much more, actually, but it all generally follows along those lines. A blush when you smile at her. A few more late night visits to your bedroom, one where she leaves with your sweater so she could wrap herself up in it and imagine it was you.
And then, after your parents passed away, there are countless times where she was doing her best to love you in any way she could at the orphanage, but you were already listening to fear at that point and couldn’t hear her speak.
Fear: As you should be listening now.
Knight: Oh, would you stop.
Fear: She broke into my love’s room. She violated his privacy. And now she has taken away his very freedom. She has knocked him out and tied him up.
Knight: Tied him up? Lil?
Scientist: That would appear to be the case. The first memory I showed you, the one where Lilly is pleading with us to wake up and professing her love, it seems that she has you tied up at that point.
Cheerleader: Whoa. She’s gone full yandere on us.
Bunny: I realize that I’m speaking as the one who’s always tied up here, but I’m honestly wondering, is that bad?
Fear: Yes, it’s bad. Of course it’s bad. What’s wrong with all of you. She’s taken him captive, and she plans to harm him.
Knight: Or love him. She is hurt and broken like he is. She may be somewhat misguided, but I think she is honestly trying to protect him.
Fear: Somewhat misguided? SOMEWHAT MISGUIDED!?! She poisons him, ties him up, and carries him off to who knows where and you say she’s trying to protect him? How can you say that?
Knight: Because she kept trying long after I had given up hope. And I think that part of the reason why I am back and fighting again, is because of her.
Scientist: So, my love, you have all of the evidence. You will return shortly, and only you can decide how you act. You’ve heard all of the opinions.
Bunny: Hold her, my love. She needs you.
Cheerleader: Hey, whatever happens, enjoy it, ok? This looks like it’s going to keep getting wilder.
Knight: I think she wants to protect you if you will let her. But I promise that I will not hide any longer. I’ll be here.
Scientist: Fear? Any last words?
Fear: Just… just be careful. Ok?
Scientist: Always remember that we’re a part of you. Goodbye, my love. My love.
(Scientist fades out. Lilly fades in.)
Lilly: My love? My love? My love!
(Speaking very fast and emotional.) Oh, my love, you’re back. You’re back. Thank God, you’re finally awake.
Oh, I was so afraid that I’d messed up and you weren’t coming back. I’m so sorry if I got the dose wrong. I wanted to make sure it was enough to allow me to bring you here, but then you wouldn’t wake up and wouldn’t wake up, and I was so scared. And I…
(Pause.)
Ok, ok, I’ll calm down.
(Crying.) I just couldn’t bear to lose you. I’m so sorry.
I love you. I love you so much. When you left the orphanage, I was so lost without you.
I’m so sorry for kidnapping you. I just… I love you. I couldn’t lose you. I can’t lose you. I can’t be without you. You are the most wonderful thing that’s ever happened to me and I’ve had to watch you fall into despair for so long, and I wanted to rescue you from that. That’s all. Really. I would never hurt you. I swear.
Are you ok? Are you feeling ok now?
(Pause.)
Yes, I know you’re tied up. And I’m sorry. I really didn’t want to, but I just can’t let you go. Please understand that I just can’t. I’m too afraid.
(Pause.)
No, I can’t untie you. Not yet anyway. I’m sorry. I just can’t. You’ll leave me. I’m so afraid that you’ll leave me, and I just… I just can’t let that happen.
(Pause. As she speaks, she’s not crying, but she continues to sniffle and wipe away her tears.)
Only untie your arms? You’re wanting me to keep everything else tied down so I can feel certain that you can’t get away?
(Pause.)
Well,… ok. I guess you couldn’t get away. There’s a chain on your leg right now, so I guess it’s safe for me to release your arms,… at least for a little while, so, yeah.
Here. I’ll just untie your arms like that, and… whoa. You’re hugging me. You’re hugging me. It's so wonderful. It’s just like I remember you holding me. Please don’t let go.
(Pause.)
Thank you? You’re… thanking me for kidnapping you?
No, for rescuing you? Rescuing you from depression and fear?
Oh, my love. I don’t know what to say.
(Pause.)
Yes. Yes, that’s my name. Lilly. I wasn’t sure you’d remember. At the orphanage, you were so…
(Kiss.)
You kissed me.
(Laughter through tears.) That’s right, my love, I didn’t flinch. I wouldn’t flinch from you. I love you.
(Pause.)
You love me too.
(Tears of joy.) Oh, my love. How I have longed to hear you say that. How I have waited for you to come back to me. The joy that I have now, I thought I would never experience.
(Pause.)
No, I’m sorry. I’m still so afraid. What if you’re just telling me what I want to hear so I untie you and you can run away from me?
(Pause.)
You understand? You know how fear can make us feel? You’re ok if I leave you chained her for now, as long as I stay here and hold you?
I will, my love. I’ll stay. I’ll never leave you. I promise. I’ll always be here for you. Thank you for wanting to be here for me.
Part 5: [F4M] Lilly's Saga - Part 5 of 7 [Yandere Speaker] [Appreciative Listener] [Listener Wakes After Being Kidnapped] : ASMRScriptHaven (reddit.com)

Welcome back to the Popheads Jukebox! Here are last week’s results:

• Kiss of Life - Midas Touch: 8.74
• GloRilla - Wanna Be (with Megan Thee Stallion): 8.50
• Taylor Swift - Fortnight (feat. Post Malone): 7.45
• Artemas - i like the way you kiss me: 7.38
• Victoria Justice - RAW: 3.75

• Ariana Grande - Problem (feat. Iggy Azalea): 8.08

Kiss of Life have the Midas Touch as their latest comeback is our top track for the week. Not too far behind is GloRilla and Meg - we still love her. Taylor honestly does much better than I thought she would after all the TTPD discourse. Benson Boone- I mean Tommy Richman- I mean Artemas takes fourth place, but is still miles ahead of whatever Victoria Justice is up to. Ariana continues to outshine her as Problem manages to get a cute score above 8.

Rules Refresher

1. Rate the songs a score from 1 to 10. Please keep it to one decimal place at the most (so 7.5 is fine but 7.58 is not). Also don’t get too hung up on the final scores. This is a fun exercise and not a competition so don’t worry about oveunder rating things. Just give what you think the song is to you.
   
2. For your review, reply to the comment that will be posted by one of us for each song. Avoid posting your reviews as a top level comment cause we probably won’t notice them if you do. Non-reviews such as questions or general commentary as upper level comments are fine.
   
3. Must have some sort of justification. Try to be a bit more concise than “It’s a bop!” or “I don’t like it”. Explain why! It doesn’t have to be long, two or three sentences can be plenty (though more is definitely allowed). We reserve the right not to include a review in the final total if proper justification is not given.
   
4. You don’t have to review each song to participate! You can do all of them or only the ones you’re familiar with.
   
5. The thread will be open for 6 days and close the following Wednesday at 11PM EST. The scores will be calculated and a new post will come up the next day (Thursday) at 5PM EST(ish) with the next week’s tracks.
   

This Week’s Tracks

• Anitta - Grip
• Kendrick Lamar - Not Like Us
• Normani - 1:59 (feat. Gunna)
• salute & Rina Sawayama - saving flowers
• St. Vincent - Flea

Throwback:

• Bruce Springsteen - Dancing in the Dark

—

Next Week

• IVE - HEYA
• Julia Fox - Down the Drain
• Kevin Abstract - Tennessee (feat. Lil Nas X)
• Porter Robinson - KNOCK YOURSELF OUT XD
• WILLOW - symptom of life

Throwback:

• Cobra Starship - Good Girls Go Bad

Spotify playlist, updated weekly with new tracks that are being rated

Jukebox wiki, where you can find all results

Reminder Discord Server, where you can join to get bi-weekly ping reminders for when new posts go up and when they’re about to close.

Hello all,
I'm a social worker in Ontario, Canada. It has been quite frustrating and upsetting for me to see that our college, OCSWSSW, has been silent regarding the ongoing genocide in Palestine. A key tenet of OCSWSSW''s code of ethics is a commitment to social justice and benefitting society, the environment, and the global community. This is a specific one among many others including continuing education, dedication to anti-racism and anti-oppressive practices in your practice, committing to lifeling learning and education, and self reflection.
Unsure of how many of you are familiar with social workers in Canada but our profession has a history of acting as an agent of the government in carrying out the genocide against Indigenous peoples. Social workers would take kids from their homes and put them into the foster system and into residential schools where these kids were subjected to SA, abuse, forced cultural assimilation, and more. There is a lot more to the horrors Indigenous people's experienced at the hands of social workers but I will keep it brief. Social work schools, associations, regulatory bodies, etc - will acknowledge the harm they did to the Indigenous community and how these effects are still seen today by the alarming excessive population of Indigenous kids still in "care".
I find it extremely disturbing and frustrating how a body that tries to recognize the harm it did to Indigenous people's remains quiet on another genocide occuring to the degree it is when people are trying to advocate for change. We should be at the forefront of raising awareness for (at a minimum) ongoing genocides happening in the world if we are truly trying to learn from our past mistakes. It is baffling to see social workers silent, play the both sides card, try to shift the focus to other topics. Social justice and human rights should not be something that you can pick and choose what to support.
OCSWSSW has also been silent about the genocides in Congo, Sudan, and China. Aside from this, OCSWSSW has also been silent regarding the legislative change that Alberta has made regarding the duty to report students to their parents/guardians regarding if the student wants to change their pronouns. We know that the unaliving risk of LGBTQ2S+ is extremely high and now again, social workers will be a cause of this harm against minors.
I get that the College is there solely to protect the public but I would think if their Code of Ethics literally tells it's registrants to commit to social justice, that they would do the same. It is also frustrating seeing the POC board of directors and knowing they too, are silent, despite having their own lived experiences of racism. OASW has also been silent and says on their page their dedication to mental health - does vicarious trauma not impact people's mental health? Are we not going to address the lasting impacts of this/these genocides on the general public, not to mention racialized populations.
Feel like I'm going to get some pushback from people claiming antisemitism so I would like to address complaints about my post head on:

I am against Israel and Zionism. We have heard of the doctrine of discovery used against Indigenous peoples in Canada and I don't know what the word is for using something similar and basing it in religion but people (Muslims, Christians, and Jews) lived on that land for a long long time. It is not a religious issue although it is easy to paint it as such due to majority of both sides. There are hundreds of thousands of Jewish organizations and people who are also against Israel and Zionism. Israelis in Israel during this time have also been protesting the events in Palestine. All of these people with lived experience, documented footage and live updates, people of various groups and organizations who have worked there and escaped, etc - cannot all be wrong. I urge you to do more research and combat the propaganda you are being served.
Someone will make the argument that social workers must remain neutral to help all people. As a social worker, I would never deny any of my clients services. I may have internal biases when working with certain clients (which we all do as humans) but I check them when I am in the professional capacity and providing services. I would never treat clients differently, harmfully, or purposely create unsafe environments for them regardless of their background or who they support - even if they were a Zionist. If I felt I was compromised and harming my client, I would have to re-evaluate and might have to pass the client to a colleague if I was unable to address my issues. That is how service professions work. The same comment can be made when working in a setting where you have clients who may have done extremely terrible, harmful things. You have to put your biases aside and serve that client and assist them in any way you can or guide them to someone who can assist them.
The College cannot claim or ask registrants to swear by a Code of Ethics that they themselves do not uphold. This discredits both the college and the profession at a time when we are trying to gain more credibility and gain more respect as a profession.
The College should be setting an example for it's registrants, applicants, organizations and partners, and affiliated universities and schools.
The College needs to keep its commitment to Indigenous peoples by continuimg to speak out against global issues and dedicate itself to change. Otherwise, it is all performative and their words and land acknowledgments do nothing as there is no actual steps behind what they are saying.

So far we have seen what the Bible reveals about God and God's attributes, and here we briefly see what the Bible reveals about God's attributes that are also mentioned through other attributes of God and very often are inseparable from some others or from some other attribute.

1. God is invisible

We talked about the fact that God is a "Spirit" and as such He does not have a physical body that we know and that we can see with the naked eye, so we can say that God is invisible to us.
Here are some verses where it says that God is invisible.
"Look, he's walking past me, but I don't see him; it passes and I don't notice it."
Job 9:11
.. Behold, if I go forward, He is not there; if back, I do not find Him; If he works on the left, I don't see Him; if on the right, he took cover, I can't see him."
Job 23:8-9
"No one has ever seen God: the only begotten Son who is in the arms of the Father, He announced Him."
John 1:18
"Who is the form of the invisible God, who was born before all things."
Col. 1:15
,, And to the Eternal King, Incorruptible, who is not seen, to the only all-wise God, honor and glory forever and ever. Amen."
1 Tim. 1:17
,, Who himself has immortality, and lives in light that cannot be approached, whom no man has seen, nor can see, to whom honor and eternal state. Amen."
1 Tim. 6:16
"He left Egypt with faith, not fearing the king's wrath; because they clung to Him who is not seen, as if they saw Him."
Hebrew 11:27

1. God is immeasurable and omnipresent

We said that God is not limited by earthly laws, nor can the essence of God be grasped. In addition, God is everywhere present and immeasurable in everything, such as e.g. creation, knowledge, giving, forgiveness, salvation, etc.
"But will God really live on earth? Here, the sky and the heavens above the heavens cannot contain You, let alone this home that I am building."
1 King 8:27
"For His eyes are turned to the ways of man and He sees all his steps. There is no darkness or shadow of death where those who commit iniquity can hide."
Job 34:21-22
"Where would I go from Your spirit, and where would I flee from Your face? If I go to heaven, You are there. To go down to hell, there you are. To rise on the wings of the dawn, and move to the end of the sea: And there Your hand will lead me, and Your right hand will hold me. To say: Yes if the darkness hides me; but the night is also like light around me. Even the darkness will not be darkened by You, and the night is as bright as the day: darkness is like light. For You created what is in me, You formed me in my mother's womb. I praise You, that I am wonderfully made. Your works are wonderful, and my soul knows it well. Not a single bone of mine has hid from You, even though I was created in secret, woven in the depths of the earth. Your eyes saw my embryo, all that was written in Your book, and the days were recorded, when there were none of them yet."
Ps. 139:7-16
"The eyes of the Lord are everywhere, seeing the bad and the good."
Proverbs 15:3
"Am I God from near, says the Lord, and am I not God from afar?" Can someone hide in a secret place so I don't see them? Speaks the Lord; do I not fill heaven and earth? Speaks the Lord."
Jer. 23:23-24
"If they bury themselves in the lowest part of the earth, from there my hand will take them; and if they go up to heaven, I will take them down from there; And if they hide on the top of Carmel, I will find them and take them from there; and to hide before my eyes at the bottom of the sea, there I will command the serpent to bite them"
Amos 9:2-3
"And there is no substance unknown before Him, but everything is naked and exposed before the eyes of the One to whom we speak."
Hebrews 4:13

1. God is reasonable and wise

From the presentations so far, we could conclude that God is reasonable and all-wise, because only such a God can control all events in our visible and also invisible (to us) world.
"In Him is wisdom and strength, in Him is counsel and understanding."
Job 12:13
,, Hear that, Job, stop and look at the miracles of God. Do you know how He arranges them and how He shines with light from His clouds? Do you know how the clouds hang? Do you know the wonders of Him who is perfect in all knowledge? How do your clothes get warm when you soothe the land from the south?"
Job 37:14-17
"How many are Your works, Lord! You have created everything too wisely; the earth is full of Your treasures."
Psalm 104:24
"Great is our Lord and great is His virtue, and there is no measure to His understanding."
Psalm 147:5
"He made the earth by his power, established the earth by his wisdom, and scattered the heavens by his understanding;"
Jer. 10:12
"And to the Eternal King, the Incorruptible, the invisible, the only all-wise God, honor and glory for ever and ever." Amen."
1 Tim. 1:17

1. God is great

God is great because His works prove it and we have those proofs throughout the entire human history.
"Now I see that the Lord is greater than all the gods, because as soon as they pride themselves on him, he surpasses them."
Exod18:11
"Because the Lord your God is God of gods and Lord of lords, a great, mighty and terrible God, who does not look at who is who or who accepts gifts;"
Deut.10:17
,, That is why you are great, Lord God, there is no one like you; and there is no God but You, according to all that we have heard with our ears."
2 Sam. 7:22
"For the Most High Lord is awesome, the king is great over the whole earth."
Psalm 47:2
,, God! The way is Your world; what God is so great as our God?"
Psalm 77:13
"The Lord is great, and He should be praised, and His majesty cannot be reached."
Psalm 145:3
"No one is like You, Lord; you are great and great is your name in power."
Jer. 10:6
"And I prayed to the Lord my God and, confessing, I said: O Lord, great and terrible God, who keeps covenant and mercy to those who love You and keep Your commandments;"
Dan. 9:4

1. God is just

We have already mentioned this before, only to say that God is absolutely just, unlike people who do not have justice but like to boast about it.
"The work of that Rock is perfect, because all His ways are justice; God is faithful, without injustice; he is just and true."
Deut. 32:4
"For the Lord is just, he loves justice; the righteous will see His face."
Psalm 11:7
"The Lord is good and just; that's why he shows sinners the way"
Psalm 25:8
"Gentleness and justice are the footstool of Your throne, mercy and truth go before Your face."
Psalm 89:14
"There is a cloud and darkness around Him; gentleness and justice are the footstool of his throne."
Psalm 97:2
"The Lord is good and just, and our God is merciful;"
Psalm 116:5
"You are righteous, Lord, and Your judgments are true."
Psalm 119:137
,, Announce, and bring, let them deliberate together: who said that from ancient times? Who reported back then? Was it not I, Lord? There is no other God besides me, there is no righteous God and Savior other than me."
Isa. 45:21

1. God is patient and slow to anger

We touched on this topic when we said that God is merciful.
"For as the Lord passed in front of him, he cried out: Lord, Lord, God is merciful, compassionate, slow to anger and abundant in mercy and truth."
Exod. 34:6
"The Lord waits for a long time and is abundant in grace, forgives iniquity and sin, but does not justify the guilty, but punishes the iniquity of the father on the sons to the third and fourth generation."
Numbi.14:18
"But You, Lord, God, merciful and gentle, patient and rich in goodness and truth,"
Psalm 86:15
"The Lord is gracious and good, slow to anger and very gentle"
Psalm 103:8
"The Lord is pliant and merciful, long-suffering and of great mercy."
Psalm 145:8
"And tear your hearts, not your clothes, and turn to the Lord your God, for he is merciful and gracious, slow to anger and abounding in mercy and repents of evil."
Joel 2:13
,, And he prayed to the Lord and said: Lord! Didn't I say that when I was still in my country? Therefore I would rather flee to Tarshish; because I knew that You are a merciful and compassionate God, slow to anger and abundant in mercy, and you repent of evil"
Jonah 4:2
"The Lord is slow to anger and has great power; but by no means justice to the guilty; the way of the Lord is in whirlwind and storm, and the clouds are dust from His feet."
Nahum 1:3

1. God is good and gentle

And we talked about this to mention that God does not punish according to what we deserve, but is merciful and gentle and out of great love gives us new chances to repent so we don't perish.
"The Lord is good and just; that's why he shows sinners the way"
Psalm 25:8
"Because You, Lord, are good and merciful and very merciful to all who call on You."
Psalm 86:5
"Because the Lord is good; His mercy is always, and His truth from generation to generation."
Psalm 100:5
"The Lord is good, the city is in trouble, and he knows those who trust in him."
Nahum 1:7
,, And Jesus said to him: Why do you call me gentle? No one is gentle but one God."
Mark 10:18
,, But love your enemies, and do good, and lend without hoping for anything; and you will have a great reward, and you will be sons of the Most High, because He is kind to both the ungrateful and the wicked."
Luke 6:35

1. God is full of love

Because God is full of love, he is also good and gentle and merciful and slow to anger and patient with us, giving us new chances for life.
"The Lord has been appearing to me for a long time. I love you with eternal love, that's why I do you the same favor."
Jeremiah 31:3
"For God so loved the world that He gave His Only Begotten Son, so that no one who believes in Him should perish but have eternal life."
John 3:16
"But God shows his love for us that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us."
Rom. 5:8
"And further, brothers, rejoice, be perfect, be comforted, think alike, have peace: and the God of love and peace will be with you"
2 Cor.13:11
"And he who does not have love does not know God; for God is love."
1 John 4:8
"And we know and believe in the love that God has for us. God is love, and he who stands in love, stands in God and God stands in him."
1 John 4:16

1. God is full of generosity

Everything we receive from grace and grace to the material things we use is a gift from God who takes care of us.
,,Let the wicked forsake his way and the unrighteous his thoughts; and let him return to the Lord, and I will have mercy on him, and on our God, because he forgives a lot."
Isaiah 55:7
"For God so loved the world that He gave His only Son, that no one who believes in Him should perish but have eternal life. Because God did not send His Son into the world to judge the world, but that the world might be saved through Him."
John 3:16-17
"John answered and said: A man cannot receive anything unless it is given to him from heaven."
John 3:27
"Because he says to Moses: I will have mercy on whom I will have mercy, and on whom I will have mercy, I will have mercy"
Rom. 9:15
"Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, it comes from the Father of light, in whom there is no change or change of light and darkness;"
James 1:17
"Ilia was a mortal man like us, and he prayed to God that it would not rain, and that it would not rain on the earth in three years and six months. And he prayed again and the sky gave rain, and the earth brought forth its crops."
James 5:17-18

1. God is true

Everything we have said so far makes sense only if God is true, and here is the confirmation that God is true.
"The work of that Rock is perfect, because all His ways are justice; God is faithful, without injustice; he is just and true."
Deut. 32:4
"Into Your hands I entrust my spirit; you delivered me, Lord, true God!"
Ps. 31:5
"Whoever blesses himself on earth will be blessed by the true God; and he who bows down on earth, swears by the true God; because the first troubles will be forgotten and will be hidden from my eyes."
Isa. 65:16
"Then Jesus cried out in the church teaching and said: you know me too and you know where I am from; I did not come of my own accord, but there is a True One who sent me, whom you do not know."
John 7:28
"And this is eternal life to know You, the only true God, and whom You sent Jesus Christ."
John 17:3
"For they make known for you what kind of entrance we have to you, and how you turned to God from idols to serve the Living and True God."
1 Sol. 1:9
,, And we know that the Son of God came, and gave us understanding to know the True God, and to be in His true Son Jesus Christ. This is the True God and Eternal Life."
1 Jov. 5:20

1. God is faithful

What God promised was being fulfilled, is being fulfilled before our eyes, and will be fulfilled in the future.
,, God is not a man to lie, nor a son of man to repent. What does he say he won't do, and what he says he won't do?"
Numb. 23:19
"And so know that the Lord God is your God, a faithful God, who keeps his covenant and his mercy to a thousand knees to those who love him and keep his commandments."
Deut. 7:9
"And he raises the horn of salvation for us in the house of David his servant, as he says through the mouth of his holy prophets from the ages that he will deliver us from our enemies and from the hands of all who hate us; To show mercy to our fathers, and remind ourselves of our holy covenant, the Curse with which we swore to Abraham our father that he would give us"
Luke 1:69-73
"God is faithful who has called you into the community of his Son Jesus Christ, our Lord."
1 Cor. 1:9
"No other temptation shall come upon you but that of man; but God is faithful, who will not let you be tempted beyond what you are able, but will also make an end with the temptation, so that you can bear it"
1 Cor. 10:13
"He who called you is faithful, and he will do it."
1 Sol. 5:24

1. God is supreme or supreme

God is omniscient, does what is best and can never make a mistake, that's why He is the Most High or the Most High
,,And the Lord said to him: I will cause all my good things to pass before you, and I will call out by name: Lord before you. I will have mercy on whom I have mercy, and I will have pity on whom I have pity."
Exod. 33:19
"Our God is in the heavens, he creates everything he wants."
Ps. 115:3
Whatever He wills, the Lord does everything, in the heavens and on the earth, in the seas and in all the deeps."
Ps. 135:6
"At that hour, Jesus rejoiced in spirit and said: I praise You, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, that You hid this from the wise and intelligent, but You told the simple. Yes, Father, because it was Your will.
Lk. 10:21
"Having shown us the secret of His will, according to His good pleasure which He had previously shown in Him,
For the ordinance of the executor of the times, that all things in the heavens and on the earth may be gathered together in Christ; in Him, through whom we also became heirs, predestined beforehand by the order of God who does all things according to the counsel of his will."
Eph. 1:9-11
"For it is God who works in you that you will and do as pleases Him."
Phil. 2:13

1. God is zealous - a jealous God

,, Do not have other gods beside me. Do not make for yourself a graven image or any image of what is in heaven above, or on the earth below, or in the water, under the earth. Do not bow down to them or serve them, because I am the Lord God yours, zealous God, who visit the sins of the fathers on the sons to the third and to the fourth generation, those who hate me;"
Exod. 20:3-5
"Because you should not worship another God: because the Lord is called a zealot, God is a zealot."
Exod. 34:14
"For the Lord your God is a consuming fire and a jealous God."
Deut. 4:24
"Don't have other gods besides me. Do not make for yourself a graven image, or any image of anything that is in heaven above or that is on the earth below or that is in the water under the earth. Do not bow down to them or serve them, for I am the Lord your God, a jealous God, who I visit the sons of the iniquities of their fathers to the third generation to the fourth generation, of those who hate me."
Deut. 5:7-9
"Because God is jealous, the Lord your God in the midst of you, so that the Lord your God does not become angry with you and destroy you from the land."
Deut. 6:15
"And Jesus said to the people: You cannot serve the Lord, because he is a holy God, a jealous God, he will not tolerate your unbelief and your sins."
Joshua 24:19

1. God is full of majesty

,, To Israel! There is no one like God, who goes through the sky to help you, and in his majesty on the clouds."
Deut. 33:26
"Lord, our Lord! How glorious is Your name throughout the earth! You have raised your glory to the highest heavens"
Psalm 8:1
"Enter the rock, and hide yourself in the dust from the fear of the Lord and from the glory of His majesty."
Isa 2:10
,, Yours, Lord, is majesty and power and glory and eternity and honor, and all that is in heaven and on earth; Yours, Lord, is the kingdom, and You are exalted, above all the Head;
1 Chron. 29:11
"Praise Him according to His power, praise Him according to His high majesty."
Ps. 150:2

1. God is full of glory

"The heavens declare the glory of God, and the firmament proclaims the works of His hands."
Psalm 19:1
"And they will sing the ways of the Lord, because the glory of the Lord is great."
Ps. 138:5
,, And above in the sky that was above their heads, it was like a throne, in appearance like a sapphire stone, and on the throne it was like a man in appearance. And I saw like a strong light, and inside it like fire all around, from the thighs up, and from the thighs down I saw like fire and light around him. Like a rainbow in a cloud when it's raining, so was the light all around to the eyes. It was the sight of the glory of God in the eyes; and when I saw, I fell on my face, and I heard the voice of Someone speaking."
Ezekiel 1:26-28
"God came from Teman and the Saint from Mount Faran; His glory covers the heavens and the earth is filled with His praise. His light was like the sun, rays came out of His hands, and His power was hidden there"
Habakkuk 3:3-4
,, And the word became flesh and moved into us full of grace and truth; and we saw His glory, the glory, as the Only Begotten of the Father."
John 1:14
,, And he said: People, brothers and fathers! Listen. The God of glory appeared to our father Abraham when he was in Mesopotamia, before he moved to Haran."
Acts 7:2
"Waiting for the blessed hope and the manifestation of the glory of the great God and our Savior Jesus Christ,"
Titus 2:13
,,Saying: Amen; blessing and glory and wisdom and praise and honor and power and strength to our God forever and ever. Amen."
Rev. 7:12
"And after this I heard a great voice of many people in heaven saying: Alleluia! Salvation and glory and honor and power to our Lord;
Rev. 19:1

1. God fills heaven and earth

,, But will God really dwell on earth? Here, the sky and the heavens above the heavens cannot contain You, let alone this home that I am building?"
1 Kings 8:27
"And who could build a home for Him when the sky and the heavens above the heavens cannot contain Him?" And who am I to build him a home? But only to burn incense before Him."
2 Days 2:6
"But will God really live on earth? Here, the sky, and the heavens above the heavens cannot contain You, let alone this home that I am building."
2 Dnev. 6:18
"Can someone hide in a secret place so I don't see them?" Speaks the Lord; do I not fill heaven and earth? Speaks the Lord."
Jer. 23:24

1. God saw

"And He was seen shining in the darkness, and the darkness did not overtake Him."
John 1:5
"Bless, my soul, Lord!" Lord, my God, you are very great, you have clothed yourself in majesty and beauty. You put on light like a garment, spread out the sky like a tent;"
Psalm 104:1-2
,, You will no longer see the sun by day, nor will the bright moon shine on you; but the Lord will be your light forever and your God will be your glory."
Isa. 60:19
"His light was like the sun, rays came out of His hands, and His power was hidden there."
Habakkuk 3:4
,,Who himself has immortality, and lives in a light that cannot be approached, whom no man has seen, nor can see, to whom honor and eternal state. Amen."
1 Tim.6:16
"Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, it comes from the Father of light, in whom there is no changing, no changing of light and darkness;"
James 1:17

1. God is immortal

"It will pass, and You will remain; they will all wear out like a dress, you will change them like a dress and they will change. But You are the same and Your years will not expire."
Psalm 102:26-27
"And he changed the glory of the eternal God into the form of mortal man and birds and four-footed animals and beasts."
Rom. 1:23
"And to the Eternal King, the Incorruptible, the invisible, the only all-wise God, honor and glory for ever and ever." Amen"
1 Tim.1:17
,,Who himself has immortality, and lives in a light that cannot be approached, whom no man has seen, nor can see, to whom honor and eternal state. Amen."
1 Tim.6:16
"She will pass away, and You remain: and they will all grow old like a dress, And you will fold them like a dress, and they will change: and You are the same One, and Your years will not disappear."
Hebrews 1:11-12

1. God is a consuming fire

,, And the angel of the Lord appeared to him in a flame of fire from a blackberry. And he looked, and that blackberry was burning with fire, but not burning."
Exod.3:2
"And Mount Sinai is all smoking, because the Lord descended on it in fire; and smoke rose from it like smoke from a furnace, and the whole mountain shook very much"
Exod.19:18
"For the Lord your God is a consuming fire and a jealous God."
Deut. 4:24
"Know therefore today that the Lord your God, who goes before you, is a consuming fire; He will destroy them and He will strike them down before you, and you will drive them out and destroy them quickly, as the Lord told you."
Deut. 9:3
"Sinners in Zion will be afraid, they will tremble at the hypocrites, and they will say: Who among us will be left with the consuming fire? Who among us will remain in the eternal heat?"
Isaiah 33:14
"And I saw like a bright light, and inside it like fire all around, from the thighs up, and from the thighs down I saw like fire and light around it."
Ezekiel 1:27

1. God is a just judge

We have mentioned many attributes of God, but the completeness of everything is when we mention that, in addition to everything, God is also a just judge. That he is a just judge comes from many features that we have studied, and simply some features would not be complete if God were not a just judge. This is one of qualities that many ignore, thinking that God is only love or mercy, but in the Bible we find very serious warnings that tell us that God is a just judge and that he will judge every sin that is not covered by the blood of the Lord Jesus Christ and that is acknowledged and forgiven. that's why God gives us so much grace, giving us a little more time to educate ourselves and turn to the right path, which is the Lord Jesus Christ.
Jesus said to him: I am the way and the truth and the life; no one will come to the Father through me."
John 14:6
And because we have a way, God gives us a little more time to repent, because he does not like death and does not want anyone to perish, and he warns us about this:
"The Lord is not late with His promise, as some think He is late, but He is patient with us, because He will not let anyone perish, but all come to repentance."
2 Peter 3:9
And if someone persistently refuses mercy and grace, then God will be his righteous judge
"Do not do this, nor lose the righteous with the unrighteous, that it may be to the righteous as well as to the unrighteous; don't; will not the judge of the whole earth judge justice?"
Gen.18:25
"When man sins against man, the judge will judge him; but when someone sins against the Lord, who will pray for him?"
1 Sam.2:25
"God is a righteous judge, and God is ready for wrath every day."
Psalm 7:11
,,And people will say: Truly there is fruit for the righteous! Indeed, God is the judge on earth!"
Psalm 58:11
"Because the Lord is our judge, the Lord is the one who sets the laws for us, the Lord is our king, He will save us."
Isaiah 33:22
,, Further, therefore, a crown of justice has been prepared for me, which the Lord, the righteous judge, will give me on that day; but not only to me, but to all who are looking forward to His coming."
2 Tim. 4:8
"There is one legislator and judge, who can save and execute; and who are you to judge another?"
James 4:12

1. God is perfect

Based on all the characteristics of God studied so far, we can only conclude that God is absolutely perfect, and this is confirmed by the verses from the Gospel. Also, everyone should strive towards the goal that the perfect God recommended to us.
"Be therefore perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect"
Matthew 5:48

Barred From Each Other: Why Normative Husbands Remain Married to Incarcerated Wives—An Exploratory Study – page 2
You’ve got to understand, what we’re talking about here is great love. That’s the whole story. The idea of leaving her never came up. It was never mentioned or discussed. Our romantic life could never be dismantled just because one of us did something wrong. Separation is totally irrelevant. [After exposing her crime] I never felt as if I don’t love her or want her less. It’s all a matter of pure commitment—built on pure love—and this is something you do not abandon. (A., 53)
I decided to stay with her for two reasons: great love and great commitment. I swear that [after her incarceration] it never crossed my mind to leave her. I’m with her until the end. Our love is priceless. I don’t care for other women; I’m just waiting for her. I always knew from the second I met her that we will be together until death. I will not desert her regardless of the situation. She is the best thing that ever happened to me. (D., 34)
I told myself, you’re not going to leave her no matter what happens. We’ve been together since we’re 17, we love each other a lot and we’re committed to each other. Let it be clear—I decided to stay with her just because of us, and not because of the kids and the house. I love her very much. She is the love of my life and my best friend and I’m staying with her no matter what happens. (S., a 53-year-old Jewish husband, married to an inmate sentenced to a period of 27 months in prison, continues in the same vein.
Interestingly, in addition to the decisive description of all research participants of their marriage in terms of love and devotion, six participants related to these relations and their spouses in adorable and admirable ways. These participants perceive their women partners as being unique and exceptional, each a veritable femme fatale, and describe the relations with them in various flattering and admirable ways.
She is everything to me. When I look to the right—I see her. When I look to the left—I see
her. I see her and no one else but her. I admire her. She is pure gold. There is no one like her
in the world and that’s why our love is so strong. (Y., a 60-year-old Jewish husband, married
to a first-timer sentenced to 4 years)
And this sentiment is echoed in two other statements:
I admire my wife. She is bigger than life itself. I can only thank God that she’s mine/that I have her. (S., 53)
She is a very special woman and a friend. She is special, not like any other woman. (A., 53)
While these quotations illustrate the high appreciation and admiration of the women spouses, the next ones portray the specific personal characteristics that make the women so admirable:
She is the most clever, intelligent, and lovely woman in the world. She is energetic, active, and dominant. An amazing woman. (T., 52
She is a good soul. She is warm and emphatic, [mentally] stronger than any man I know, very reliable. She has so many virtues: understandable, intelligent, supportive, funny, and very ethical. (D., 34)
She is [mentally] a very strong woman. She is remarkable . . . outstanding. She knows everything—regardless of the fact that she’s in prison. (Z., 55)
She is a good human-being: She takes care of everyone . . . pays attention to everyone . . . she loves to help people. (A., 53
All the participants love and admire their partners and perceive them as an attached and inherent part of their past, present, and future married lives. These statements clearly demonstrate that love is perceived as an essential component for the preservation of good marital relations—in general and in times of crisis. Moreover, regardless of female-spouses’ criminal conduct and imprisonment, most partners describe them as ideal and wonderful women, using words of admiration. As such, continuation of the marriage to them may be perceived as an obvious and rational act.
Perception of Wife’s Criminal Conduct
Numerous studies have argued that most female inmates are abandoned by their male counterparts, be it because of the forced disengagement and/or the shame in their “betrayal” of the law, their families, and their “traditional gender roles” (McGowan & Blumenthal, 1978; Stanton, 1980). Evidently, such desertion is solely dependent on men’s discretion, irrespective of the female inmates’ desires (Dodge & Pogrebin, 2001; Pelka-Slugocka & Slugocki, 1980).
Somewhat in contrast to these studies, our findings indicate that although all participants acknowledge that their spouses committed various criminal offenses and morally reject it, they do not perceive them and their criminal conduct as shameful and disgraceful. Specifically, the participants (deliberately or unintentionally) describe their spouses’ criminal behaviors in a forgiving manner, explaining it as a “sad tale” (i.e., an outcome of harsh and complicated life-story; Scott & Lyman, 1968). By doing so, they invalidate the female inmates’ moral and criminal responsibilities, detach their criminal conduct from their character, and defend their dignity and importance:
My wife did not do all these things. She meant to do no bad. I know that she doesn’t act out of evilness . . . she is a good person . . . a victim of herself. She didn’t really want to kill me . . . It is not her fault . . . her friends are bad . . . they pushed her to act this way. I can’t believe and I don’t believe that she did what she did independently. (A., 53)
They [the police] found some financial inconsistencies in the bank and instead of exposing the truth and framing her brother, she took responsibility. I knew she did everything in order to save her brother. She is a good soul and her family members abused her. All she did was done in order to protect her family and not because she’s bad. She is a good soul . . . a queen who made a mistake in order to save her brother. (S., 53)
She did not take it [the money] for herself . . . She gave it to her family. She has a big family and someone had to take care of them. Looking back, I think she had no choice. (I., 47)
Six participants use neutralization techniques (Sykes & Matza, 1957) to support their contention of their partners’ morality. The men resort to “denial of injury” and “denial of responsibility.” In their simplest form, the former technique suggests that this was a no-victim crime and the latter proposes that the criminal actions were caused by forces beyond the perpetrator’s control (Enticott, 2011).
After all, what did she do? What crime had she committed? It’s not that she enjoyed the money. It’s not that she is walking around wearing lots of jewelry. She’s a modest individual and all in all she did not take big sums of money. Maybe they [justice system] can define her as an offender, but for me she is P., my beloved wife, and that’s that. (C., 37)
n fact, what did she do? She got involved with the gray market, something that could happen to anyone, and they forced her to do what she did. It could happen to me, to you, to anyone. She made a mistake but she is only human. But it’s not a crime and she’s not a criminal. (Z., 55)
No! My wife is not a criminal. She didn’t break the law. In my opinion, all she did was make a single mistake. The fact that she’s in prison does not make her a criminal. (I., 47)
Difficulties in Marital Relationships With Incarcerated Wife
Numerous studies have repeatedly argued that three factors underlie most crises in marital relationships: diminished (or extinguished) love, reduced (or lack of) intimacy, and weakened (or nonexistent) commitment (Mace, 1982; Sabatelli & Cecil-Pigo, 1985; Sharlin, 1996; Sokolski & Hendrick, 1999; Surra et al., 1988). Our findings deviate somewhat and indicate that regardless of lengths of imprisonment and/or marriage, the major difficulty experienced by most (n = 7) participants relates to lack of physical intimacy. All other inconveniences and difficulties characterizing marital relationships in crisis (Huston, Caughlin, Houts, Smith, & George, 2001) appear to be irrelevant to the interviewees:
During the last six months [time of spouse’s incarceration] everything has obviously changed, because of her physical absence. We meet once a month [conjugal visits] and it is not enough. I miss the physical intimacy, the physical togetherness. I miss it. It is difficult. I currently and practically live with no romantic relationships. I miss her body and her smell.
(I., 47)
I miss her smell. She has amazing smells, nothing I experienced with other women. I miss having sex with her. I miss being hugged by her, feeling her head on my shoulder. (D., 34)
[You can’t believe] how much I miss her. I miss her hugs, I miss the physical contact with her, I miss going to sleep with her. (T., 52)
An additional difficulty, raised by six (75%) participants, relates to lack of support by family members, friends, and acquaintances. In some cases, participants report that people totally ignored or terminated relationships after the incarceration. The participants view this kind of behavior as an outcome of shame and/or disappointment:
It wasn’t easy with my family [because] they wanted me to divorce her. They didn’t understand how she could do that and didn’t accept her. They were really furious. They decided to break off relations with her. My reaction, by the way, was to completely break off my relations with my family. (Z., 55)
Some family members and all my neighbors told me that I should be ashamed of my wife. In school, my children suffered daily harassments from other children, from the teachers, and even from the headmaster. All of them wanted us to forget her as if she were dead. They think she should be “dead” . . . deleted! (S., 53)
Two very close friends of ours were informed [by us] about the trial and the offense. It was very embarrassing. Yet, their reaction was even more embarrassing and made us want to bury ourselves deep in the ground: In the most difficult moment of our life, they deserted us. They had a very dramatic discussion with my wife on the phone with lots of shouting and yelling and then, decided to stop talking to us. These people are not human-beings. You cannot call them friends. (Y., 60)
None of her friends called or asked us how we feel. None of our friends came to visit her in prison. Is this friendship? This is disgusting. It’s very difficult to live with the notion that suddenly, when you are in trouble, everyone disappears. Suddenly, no-one wishes to be your friend. (A., 53)
Preconditions for the Continuation of Marital Relationships Between Normative Men and Incarcerated Wives
All research participants have pointed out two central factors that could have had a negative effect on the marriage, perhaps even leading to their termination of this relationship: (a) length of prison sentence and (b) length of marriage prior to the imprisonment.
Length of prison sentence. Most (n = 7) participants assert that because their spouses were sentenced to relatively short terms of imprisonment, they did not consider leaving them. However, they also state that if the sentence had been longer, they may have considered terminating the marriage and finding a new relationship:
I don’t know what would have happened to our romantic relationships if she’d been imprisoned for, let’s say, 20 years. I believe I would have separated from her. It’s like disappearing from someone’s life for a very long time. Time is definitely a significant factor.
(I., 47)
On the day of the verdict, when the judge said “4 years,” I felt as if my hands were freezing. If it were 10 or 15 years, then I’d probably acted differently. I doubt if I would have stayed with her . . . with all due respect to love. (Z., 55)
These findings strengthen previous findings (Holt & Miller, 1972; Walker, 1983) revealing a decline in visiting patterns among wives of long-term prisoners compared with wives of short-termers, as well as deterioration of marriages over long periods of incarceration.
I had a very dramatic discussion with my wife on the phone with lots of shouting and yelling and then, decided to stop talking to us. These people are not human-beings. You cannot call them friends. (Y., 60)
None of her friends called or asked us how we feel. None of our friends came to visit her in
prison. Is this friendship? This is disgusting. It’s very difficult to live with the notion that
suddenly, when you are in trouble, everyone disappears. Suddenly, no-one wishes to be your
friend. (A., 53)
Preconditions for the Continuation of Marital Relationships Between Normative Men and Incarcerated Wives
All research participants have pointed out two central factors that could have had a negative effect on the marriage, perhaps even leading to their termination of this relationship: (a) length of prison sentence and (b) length of marriage prior to the imprisonment.
Length of prison sentence. Most (n = 7) participants assert that because their spouses were sentenced to relatively short terms of imprisonment, they did not consider leaving them. However, they also state that if the sentence had been longer, they may have considered terminating the marriage and finding a new relationship: I
I don’t know what would have happened to our romantic relationships if she’d been imprisoned for, let’s say, 20 years. I believe I would have separated from her. It’s like disappearing from someone’s life for a very long time. Time is definitely a significant factor.
(I., 47)
On the day of the verdict, when the judge said “4 years,” I felt as if my hands were freezing. If it were 10 or 15 years, then I’d probably acted differently. I doubt if I would have stayed with her . . . with all due respect to love. (Z., 55)
These findings strengthen previous findings (Holt & Miller, 1972; Walker, 1983) revealing a decline in visiting patterns among wives of long-term prisoners compared with wives of short-termers, as well as deterioration of marriages over long periods of incarceration.
Length of marriage prior to incarceration.
The men’s decision to remain married was determined, to a significant degree, to the duration of the relationship prior to the woman’s incarceration. Our findings show that all participants perceive the total length of the relationship prior to spouses’ incarceration to be positively correlated to their decision to remain married:
If we’d been married for a year and then she’d begun committing crimes, I would have separated from her. But now, after so many years of marriage, there is no way I would leave her. The length of our romantic relationships is a critical factor. That’s why I couldn’t see any option of leaving her. (I., 47)
Please don’t forget that I didn’t meet her yesterday, we’ve been together for almost 10 years. We went through many things together. It’s a lot of time and obviously, I won’t leave her. (D., 34
Ways of Preserving the Marital Relationships With Incarcerated Wives
All participants (N = 8) report that to deal with their pain of separation and maintain marital relationships, they use two tactics—frequent phone calls and making all visits
that the prison allows.
The men receive four or five phone calls a day from their imprisoned partners. Both partners await these phone calls and cherish them, as the frequent and continuous delivery and receipt of information create a semblance of the exchange of information that occurs when living under the same roof. Symbolically, the ongoing communication, and hearing the partner’s voice, signifies a continuation of everyday [dyadic and nondyadic] normal life:
We constantly maintain telephone contact. I’m like a child, again and again waiting for her phone calls. It doesn’t matter whether I am with friends, at work, or at a restaurant, I wait for her to call me all the time. She calls me three times a day, in the morning, noon, and in the evening hours. (T., 52)
We talk on the phone all day and every day. We actually do everything through the phone: We talk about her feelings, what happened to her in prison during the day, what happened to me at work, and how we miss each other. That’s basically it. (D., 34)
I love it when she calls me. I look forward to her phone calls. That’s how I really know what is going on with her in prison. (S., 53)
The second tactic is routinely coming for the bi-weekly 30-min visits to which all prisoners are entitled, whether or not they are also allowed home furloughs (IPS, 2012). The visits take place on Saturdays and Sundays, and all families gather in a relatively small, closed, and sealed space. There are open visits in which the inmate can be in physical touch with the visitors and closed visits, conducted through an armored-glass division. All participants welcome the visits, perceive them as the best temporary way of realizing their marriage, and look forward to them:
I visit her every two weeks. Up to now, I haven’t missed a single visit. We were limited to 30 minute in-person visits every two weeks during her first year. After that they let us have a 12 hour conjugal visit each month. Now she can come home [on furlough] for 24 hours every month. That time of being together in the home refreshes our love. In addition, we talk on the phone four times a day. I wait for these calls because I love talking to her. We talk about her day, about my day, about things that happened to both of us at work, about intimate thoughts. (A., 53)
I visit her every two weeks, sometimes with her parents and sometimes alone. We sit together, talk, laugh, and try to make use of our [joint] time. (Y., 60)
I come to visit her every two weeks. I never missed a single visit. Occasionally, I bring our son with me. We wake up at 5 in the morning and drive 4 hours just to see her for 30 minutes. And then we have to drive 4 hours back. But I wouldn’t have missed it for the world. (C., 37)
Discussion
Incarceration affects all aspects of family life, including the health and well-being of inmates’ spouses and children, and the maintenance of family attachments. It can also lead to marital dissolution (Comfort, 2007; Goffman, 2009; Lopoo & Western, 2005; Western & Wildeman, 2009). Most studies concerning the impact of imprisonment on inmates’ marriages have focused on the effects of men’s incarceration (Chui, 2010; Wildeman, Schnittker, & Turney, 2012), whereas only scarce attention directed at the effects of women’s incarceration on their families. This appears to be quiet odd [and disturbing] in light of research findings showing that most incarcerations of men rarely result in marital breakup (Dodge & Pogrebin, 2001; Travis et al., 2003), whereas most women sentenced to prison are abandoned by their partners and their pre-incarceration romantic relations are terminated (Hairston & Addams, 2001; Sergin & Flora, 2005).
The current study provides important information about the characteristics, motivation, and justifications of men to preserve marital relationships with their imprisoned spouses. Out of 180 prisoners incarcerated in the single Israeli female incarceration facility, Neve Tirza Prison, only nine (of whom eight took part in the study) maintain stable marital relationships longer than 3 years. All these inmates except one, who was sentenced to 264 months, had no criminal records prior to current imprisonment, and were only sentenced to a relatively short time of incarceration (M = 21.8 months). Interestingly, all spouses (but one) have no prior criminal record and therefore can be considered normative (i.e., law-abiding).
The interviews yielded five overarching themes: (a) perceptions of marital relations with incarcerated spouse, (b) perceptions of wife’s criminal conduct, (c) difficulties in marital relationships with incarcerated spouse, (d) preconditions for the continuation of marital relationships between normative men and incarcerated wives, (e) and ways of preserving the marital relationships with incarcerated partners
The discovery that the wife had committed a crime, the following arrest, initial stages of incarceration, and mainly the concealment of the crime from family and community members are experienced as stressful crises. Yet, participants describe incarceration as a challenge that brought the couple even closer, enhancing mutual responsibility and commitment.
This study elucidates the shock and devastation that comes with the discovery that one’s wife had committed a crime, and then with the following arrest and the initial stages of incarceration. The psychosocial effects of finding out about the crime linger well beyond the time of initial shock. Thus, although four (50%) of the participants were interviewed 2 years or more after they had first learned of their wives’ criminal actions, they still referred to the great difficulty of discovery and its long-lasting negative impact. Specifically, all participants testified that the incarceration of their female partners raised frustrations, tension, and lack of trust that led them to reconsider their motivation to preserve their marriages. They clearly described the disruption the revelation caused and the resulting strain on their marital relationship.
Although the romantic relationship was undoubtedly stressed by the discovery of the crime, the arrest, and the incarceration, all participants seemed to have had the resources to meet this challenge or found appropriate support to do so. Our findings indicate that the incarceration led the husbands to recognize their obligation to their partners and to their relationship. Similarly, clinical experience and several empirical studies suggest that some couples facing hospitalization, critical illness, or serious injuries perceive their marital relationship to be improved since the medical episode (e. g., Dorval et al., 2005). The trauma often creates a powerful intensified family bond and feeling of mutual empathy (Eggenberger & Nelms, 2007) and intensifies the desire to protect each other (Burr, 1998). Whether this kind of interaction may stabilize and strengthen a relationship after arrest is to be determined in future research.

Barred From Each Other: Why Normative Husbands Remain Married to Incarcerated Wives—An Exploratory Study – page 4
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Scene 1

(Several voices echo as colorful shapes and effects go throughout the screen.)
Caine: Welcome to the Amazing Digital Circus!
Jax: Pomni.
Caine: Pomni.
Ragatha: Pomni.
Jax: Pomni.
Ragatha: Pomni...
Caine: Pomni!
Ragatha: Pomni!
Jax: Pomni.
Caine: Pomni!
Ragatha: Pomni!
(Pomni opens her eyes in a haze, being inside the Circus' tent)
Pomni: Hello?
(Her movement while calling out is distorted, her heartbeat rapidly increases as she walks in fear, looking wide-eyed in front of her, then to her arm, which has now abstracted.)
Pomni: (Screams) No! No! No! (Stammers) Caine! Somebody, help me! Please!
(Pomni runs around panicking as the circus floor tilts vertically until she falls into a deep hole, seeing Caine, Ragatha and Jax looking down at her as dark silhouettes.)
Pomni: (Shrieks) No! No!
Caine: (Laughs) Looks like our new friend's already abstracted.
Ragatha: (Chuckles) Well, I guess we're not all cut out for it.
Jax: I don't even remember her name, honestly.
(Abstraction takes over Pomni's body as she falls, horrified.)

Scene 2

(The sound of trumpets with abstracted eyes looking at her wakes her up, showing that sequence to just be a dream. At this same time, the doorbell rings.)
(Pomni falls out of her bed and collision glitches on a playing block, hitting her head on the ceiling and faceplanting on the floor.)
Pomni: Huh?
Ragatha: Hey, Pomni. How'd you sleep?
Ragatha: Are you still sleeping? (Awkwardly) I'll let you get back to it, if you are.
(Ragatha starts walking away from the door, though Pomni partially opens it.)
Ragatha: There she is. Hope you're doin' all right. I know yesterday was a bit of a doozy.
Pomni: A doozy. (Opens the door slightly more)
Ragatha: Oh, and don't worry about the whole "abandoning me for the exit" thing. (Worringly) It's perfectly understandable what you were going through at the time, and there's no hard feelings. (Laughs) Yer all good.
(Ragatha makes finger guns.)
Pomni: Huh? (Confused)
(Ragatha looks away for a second, still awkward.)
Ragatha: Uh, well, let's forget about all that. (Shrugging) Caine's got a new adventure today, and judging by what he's been teasing, it seems like it's gonna be a fun one.
(Ragatha walks away from the door slightly as Pomni comes out and shuts it behind her.)

Scene 3

(The scene cuts to Caine and Bubble being at the circus tent's stage.)
Caine: Today's adventure is... Candy Canyon Chaos!
(Those three words appear above Caine in bright pink letters.)
Caine: That's right! The Candy Canyon Kingdom's been robbed of their most valuable resource; maple syrup! It's up to you to bring the rotten bandits who stole it to sweet, buttery justice!
(Bubble comes next to Caine and pulls maple syrup out on his tongue.)
Bubble: An entire kingdom of candy? Sounds sticky.
Caine: Very sticky, indeed.
Bubble: Sounds- (Censor beep)
(Caine looks startled, looking between the camera and Bubble.)
Caine: Bubble, you can't say that.
Zooble: Mmmmmmmmmmm, nope. (Walking away)
Caine: Zooble, wait! I-I'm testing out a new AI in this one! It should be 57 times more immersive!
Jax: Ooh, a new AI. You don't want to mess with the new AI, Zoobie?
Zooble: Uh, yeah, no. (Walks away)
(Jax shrugs at the camera before looking back at Zooble.)
Ragatha: Whoa, sounds fun. What do you think, Pomni? (Encouraging)
Pomni: So, our entire existence here... is just LARPing? (Disgusted)
Ragatha: W-Well, uh-
(Caine zips in front of Ragatha.)
Caine: Why are you all just standing there?! The- The Canyon- C-Canyon Candy Kingdom needs you now! (Stammering, wide eyed)
(Caine opens a portal and pushes all the circus members (aside from Zooble) in, with the portal instantly closing behind them and dusting off his hands, going wide eyed again. He then takes a smoking pipe out and blows bubbles from it. Bubble himself comes up to him.)
Caine: Hmm? (Offering the pipe to Bubble)
Bubble: Nah, thanks. I'm trying to quit.

Scene 4

(Majestic music plays as the Candy Canyon Kingdom, adorned with its colorful letters, is shown.)
(The members are being taken by a carriage by a Gummy Elephant to the castle, where the drawbridge lowers for them and several colorful mannequins cheer for their arrival, as Ragatha waves to them.)
Ragatha: Wow, Kinger, check out this castle. It's amazing!
Kinger: (Looking at butterfly) They've even got little candy bugs here. It's so beautiful.
Gangle: Yeah, this place is great!
(A mannequin runs near Gangle and points at the castle, knocking her over and breaking her comedy mask.)
Mannequin: LOOK!!! It's the princess!!
Gangle: (Whimpers)
(Trumpet play as the princess comes out of her castle.)
Princess: Ah, you must be the brave knights sent to us by God... To help us with our recent catastrophe.
Ragatha: That's us, ma'am.
Ragatha: Your kingdom's awesome, by the way. (Looking around) Love the vibe.
Princess: (Giggles) I like you already.
Ragatha: Look, Pomni. We're already friends with the princess. (Trying to hype Pomni up)
Pomni: I'm not a child. You don't have to hype me up.
(The Princess walks down her stairs, to be closer to the group.)
Princess: I assume you've been informed of your mission. The bandits that robbed us used a modded syrup tanker, so we figured the best way to go head-to-head with them is to give you a war rig of your own.
(She motions towards a truck being driven which runs over a yellow mannequin, who yells in pain.)
Jax: Ooh, violence. (Excitedly)
Pomni: What time period is this supposed to be, again? (Confused and tired)
Princess: Here's the key back into the kingdom for when you've secured the goods. I trust you not to let it fall into the wrong hands?
(She gives Ragatha the key.)
Ragatha: You can count on me, Your Highness. (Bows)
Princess: Oh, please. Call me Loo.
Ragatha: (Chuckles) Will do, Loo. (Does finger guns)
Jax: I call shotgun.
(Jax runs to the drivers' seat and instantly uses the horn, which makes a goofy, distorted warble.)
Jax: Oh, God, is that the horn? (Groans) That sucks. (Annoyed) Gangle, you drive. (Grabbing Gangle)
(Everyone else enters the back of the truck.)
Loolilalu: Farewell, good knights. (Waving) I have every faith in you!
(The truck starts and drives out the kingdom while honking the distorted horn, with the mannequins cheering them on.)

Scene 5

(The scene cuts to 3 gummy bandits set up at a campfire.)
Unknown (Max or Chad): D'you think your mum's gonna pull through if we get all this back to the village?
Unknown (Max or Chad): I'm sure she will. This much syrup would save hundreds of people.
Gummigoo: We won't know for sure until we get back to the village. She's a fighter, though. She taught me everything I know. (Looks back in binoculars) Oy! Don't get too comfy, lads. Looks like they've sent someone after us.
(The scene cuts to the truck Gangle is driving.)
Jax: All right, Gangle, when we catch up to 'em, I'll jump over, crawl inside, and shoot 'em repeatedly until they're unrecognizable.
Gangle: (Scared) I feel like that violates some kind of convention.
Jax: (Annoyed) You're violating my ears with your clap-back. Get driving, driver!
(The camera cuts to Ragatha and Pomni in the back.)
Ragatha: So, Pomni, I'm sure there's some way you could help out here. Maybe when we catch up to them, we could-
(Jax interrupts Ragatha.)
Jax: We could be assertive. Like this! (Grabs Pomni and throws her out)
Pomni: Hey! (Screams)
Ragatha: (Annoyed) Jax!
(The two trucks move apart, stretching Pomni's arms.)
Jax: Ah, that's perfect! Just hold that pose. I gotta get something.
Pomni: Jax, you 📷.
Jax: You know, I swear there was some kind of bazooka back here, but (Scoffs) I'm having such trouble finding it.
(Kinger appears next to Jax, holding a life buoy.)
Kinger: Pomni, take this! (Throws the buoy)
Pomni: Egh...
(Jax finds the bazooka and points it at Pomni.)
Jax: Here it is. All right, Pomni, you just stay like that, and I'll cross over you.
Pomni: Are you kidding me?! (Finger slips) Ow!
Jax: Nice going, Pomni- now I have no bridge.
Unknown (Max or Chad): Ah-hah! Gotcha! (Trying to grab Pomni) Me arms aren't long enou- Whoa!
(The camera cuts to Gummigoo and the other gummy bandit driving the truck.)
Gummigoo: This lot's trouble. Let's see how their rig does on those rocks around there.
Unknown (Max or Chad): Me arms aren't short enough to shift the gear.
(Gummigoo shifts the gear himself and the camera cuts to Jax.)
Jax: Ooh, now we're cookin'! Hey! Ribbons! Up and at 'em!
Gangle: I don't think we-
Jax: (Annoyed) Aren't you supposed to be submissive and agreeable? Move it!
(The truck shakes around causing everyone except Jax to go flying around.)
(The camera cuts to the other truck.)
Gummigoo: (Pokes head out window) Oh, these fellas just don't know when to quit, do they? (Notices gummy bandit in the back.) Hey! Quit muckin' about and get back up here!
Unknown (Max or Chad): Oh, yeah. Right.
(The camera cuts to Ragatha and Jax who both haves knives in their heads.)
Ragatha: (Groans) Everyone all right?
Kinger: Can you repeat the question? I couldn't hear you over the knives.
Jax: Hey, Gangle. You should ram into 'em.
Gangle: (Confused) What?
Ragatha: You should NOT ram them! Pomni's still on board! (Gets pushed by Jax)
Jax: Do it. It'll be epic.
Ragatha: (Muffled) Why are there so many knives back here?!
Jax: Do it, or I'll tell Ragatha about the figurine thing.
Gangle: Guh! (Laughs nervously)
(The camera cuts to Pomni still holding onto the truck as it gets rammed.)
Pomni: (Scared) Are you guys trying to 📷 kill me?!
(The camera cuts to the inside of the truck Pomni is on.)
Gummigoo: These guys are whack jobs! Let's give them some of this.
(Gummigoo pulls a lever which causes spikes to appear on the truck.)
Jax: (Disappointed) Aww, no more ramming? Guess I HAVE to tell Ragatha about the thing now.
Gangle: What?!
Unknown (Max or Chad): Oh. You're still up here.
Pomni: Guuuuuuys?
Kinger: Pomni, take this!
(Kinger throws a ship anchor over the truck.)
Jax: Uh, hey, Kinger, is that rope attached to anything?
Kinger: Uhhhh. I don't know. Let me check. (Goes back in)
(The anchor stops and forces the two trucks side by side as the truck Jax is on gets thrown off the cliff.)
Gangle: (Pokes head out) W-W-What? Wha?
Jax: (Annoyed) I blame YOU for this.
(The truck hits the fudge.)
(The camera cuts to Pomni on the other truck and it hits a slope, causing it to noclip under of the map.)
Pomni: (Screams)
Gummigoo: (Grunts)

Scene 6

(The scene fades to Gummigoo and Pomni falling out of bounds.)
Gummigoo: (Screaming) Oog! Ack! (Grunts) (Wailing) OHHHH, NO!!!
(Gummigoo hits the floor.)
Gummigoo: (Echoing) Lads? (Walking down the hallways) Hello? Anyone?
(Gummigoo finds a room full of models of the NPCs and sees himself.)
Gummigoo: Huh? (Walks up to it) Uh... (Gasps)
(The camera cuts to Pomni falling.)
Pomni: Guh! (Wails) (Grunts) Huh?
Gummigoo: Where are we? W-What's all this?
Pomni: (Confused) I-I don't know. W-We're somewhere under the map, I think.
Gummigoo: "Map"? (Confused) Why aren't you or any of your crew up here?
Pomni: I-I'm not sure. Be- Because we're not, uh, NPCs?
Gummigoo: (Confused) "NPCs"? What are you on about? What are you people? (Looks at himself) What am I? Where's Mum?
Pomni: (Shocked) Y-You have a mom?
Gummigoo: Shouldn't she be here with everyone else? (Shakily) I can't even remember her face. Did she ever have a face? Was anything ever real?
Pomni: Okay, w-w-wait. (Trying to calm him down) Don't- Don't think about that. I-I-I think there... must be a way to launch ourselves back up. Right?
Gummigoo: (Hyperventilating) I want you to tell me exactly what I am.

Scene 7

(The scene cuts to where the truck fell into the river.)
Ragatha: (Groans) Is everybody okay?
Gangle: No... (Puts head down)
Ragatha: Oh, man. Poor Pomni. I hope she's all right.
Jax: "Poor Pomni"? How about "poor us"? We're one tanker away from being Augustus Glooped!
(The Fudge appears out of the fudge.)
The Fudge: (Groaning) Oh, what's that? Do my eyes deceive me? A delicious gift from within the kingdom gates? Don't mind if I do. (Picks up truck)
Ragatha: (Scared) Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, buddy! We're not food! We're not candy! We're none of that! You don't want to eat us!
The Fudge: Wh- You're not candy? How am I expected to eat something that's not made of candy? I'm sorry. (Sad and puts them down)
Kinger: Pomni always seems to miss the big, gloopy monsters.
Jax: Who are you, anyway?
The Fudge: I am the Fudge. I used to live within the kingdom walls, but I was banished by that rotten princess after I ate too many of the delicious townfolk. Oh, they were so delicious. Sometimes I can hear them... calling to me. (Townsfolk screaming)
Ragatha: Oh, God. That just sounds like murder.
The Fudge: Is it really murder if it's delicious? Answer me that.
Jax: You make a great point.
Ragatha: (Worried) Uh, no, bad point!
Jax: Why don't you leave this to me before I start thinking your hair looks like licorice?
Ragatha: Jax!
Kinger: Oh, wow, it kind of does.
Ragatha: Stop!
Jax: Well, Mr. Fudge, you seem like an upstanding guy with real noble goals.
The Fudge: Oh, I'm not. If you knew what I did in my free time- Oh, you'd be SICKENED!
Jax: (Clears throat) As I was saying. I happen to know a way into the kingdom walls if you'd be willing to help us out in return.
(Jax pulls out the key that Ragatha had.)
Ragatha: Hey, when did you-
Jax: Shut up, licorice hair.
Kinger: Here, hide it with this. (Puts bucket on Ragatha)
The Fudge: Oh, you must be some kind of master of unlocking things, come to free me from my outdoor prison.
Jax: That's me. All we need you to do is help us bring some dirty bandits to justice.
(Another truck falls into the fudge.)
Unknown (Max or Chad) I saw the reaper wink at me...
Ragatha: Wait, w-w-what just happened?