so long story short, I’m forced to take a higher dose DPI in a generic due to my insurance not covering the name brand (the generic version doesn’t make the HFA, which is the only form the dose I was prescribed is offered in, which I didn’t know until I went to pick it up and heard the cost. so I messaged my doctor and she prescribed me this generic one).
anyways, because of this, I’m taking doses less often than what is intended, and the inhaler will last me 4 months instead of 1. additionally, I only have 2 refills because that will last me an entire year. so it really wouldn’t make much sense for me to throw out 3/4 of an inhaler every month and then run out of refills 3 months in. will the DPI still be good for 4 months despite the packaging stating it will only be good for a month?
also, it’s called wixela. I prefer the hfa, but advair is out of the budget.

"That went well." Qik said as she slipped a foot into the nerve suit's trouser leg while Casper was currently running his fingernails across the top of his scalp, itching it vigorously. The man glared at the messy cap of hair that had plagued him for the last hour.
He'd had to wear it for the entire interview with a GC representative. All a giant farse to hide the fact that as a 'critically endangered species' mere months of living in geckin space, Caper was now piloting thirty-foot mechs that had the potential of killing him if he took a bad hit.
"I want to burn this." He said bluntly, glaring at the ridiculous yellow, blonde wing that was more in place on a fictional character than real life.
"Do it, throw it into the furnace." Qik shrugged, as she shimmied into the Nerve-Suit, its shiny material hugging her curves in ways that made the human stare quite openly. Qik was slim, sleek, and athletic. Her abdominal muscles showed through her fur quite easily and the 'skintight' Nerve-Suit only emphasised that further. His eyes greedily drank in the way the light played over the smooth contours. He blinked, snapping back to reality. Why was it hard to concentrate?
"Uhh, I... Can't. That was it. It belongs to a geckin, not part of the military. But... why did they have a wig?" Casper asked, holding it in his hands and squinting at the item, trying to distract himself from the toned leg that was parked on the bench next to him as Qik adjusted and made sure the suit was in place.
"Apparently they had a fantasy of a human. Or a facsimile." Qik explained as Casper put it aside and began to disrobe.
"What do you mean?" He asked as he turned away from her to remove his underwear, still suffering from the human-made taboo of being undressed in front of the opposite gender. He'd discovered that, that was not a common fear amongst the stars. Humans were the odd one out for how much they cared about separating the genders. Even on his public ID, it didn't have his gender listed.
"Humans aren't new in some parts of the galaxy apparently." Qik began, fists now on her hips whilst she openly stared at Casper as he donned the stretchy Nerve-Suit. "You might have only been officially part of the GC for like, six months? But it seems that Ssypno media has human-things running around long before then. Rumours and shit. This geckin was a human lover." The lopel mercenary finished with a grin.
Casper frowned and ensured his suit was donned correctly, trying to line up the needle holes with the red welts that covered his ashen skin.
"Human lover, before humans were found. Sounds like a-abduct-..."
Casper blinked as the changing room was suddenly filled with a deafening roar, he tried to say something, but nothing came out as he became lightheaded and lost his balance. Toppling forwards, strong arms and hands grabbed him, arresting his fall. It took a moment for his legs to work and lift himself back up, knees shaking. He looked down at the brown fur and black latex covered arms holding him.
Qik.
Noise from behind his ear. She was saying something. He took a guess, not wanting her to know how far gone he was.
"Dizzy... Just a bit dizzy." As he was sat down on the bench with her help. "Got up too quick."
"You been eating?" Qik asked, her face close to his. She had knelt down and held his head between both of her hands, peering into his eyes, using her thumb to pull his eyelid down slightly and observed him. They were warm. Her hands were so warm and blocked out the world and the roaring noise. He gently reached up and touched her hands, not quite holding her there, but ensuring she didn't pull away too quickly.
"Yeah..." He lied, the young man hadn't been hungry recently. He'd nibbled the nutritional mush but had poured most of it down the toilet before going to bed. He felt fine, he'd felt this way before, and knew the moment he was back in the rig, he'd be better than fine once more.
The brown furred rabbit-like alien merely frowned, then clicked her tongue. She let go, much to his disappointment.
"Come on then. We're testing live weapons today. No more simulations. You're going to need a pick-me-up." She decided on his behalf, her voice moving away.
Blinking, Casper willed himself to concentrate, to get back in the room and turned his head to find the alien rifling through her jacket's inner pockets. She pulled a tiny hard packet and held it between two fingers, holding it to the light. Standing back up, her legs going on for days, she cat-walked back over to where he was sat and folded herself back down.
She took the packet, snapped it in half and held it to Casper's nose with one hand, while the other grasped the back of his head, preventing him from retreating.
"Sniff. Once and hard." She ordered, eyes fixing him in place.
He trusted her, Casper complied.
Immediately he felt better. The second he finished inhaling, his lungs breathed out through his mouth and his vision became notably clearer. His eyes felt as if he had put drops into them. The tightness in the back of his skull was gone. He wasn't high or wired. There wasn't a tremble to his hands like when he had, had too much coffee, but in a matter of seconds; he was awake and alert once more. Qik nodded at his eyes focusing on her a moment later. Even his legs felt strong and ready, the tremble, gone as if it were never there.
"It's not a fix, but it keeps you on point during extended missions. It'll get you through today. You'll need to eat tonight though. Come on. Let's get going." She explained, patting his knee and standing up right, leaving his head at hip height.
== 0 ==
Casper received a message from Qik. These were public knowledge, and Qik never spoke of private matters over these messages as anyone could have been reading them. At least while they were operating under geckin jurisdiction.
{Okay New Guy, first up. Heavy weapon frames.}
Qik's rig was running ahead, the spiked ends of her rig's legs tip toeing across the landscape like she was merely a thirty-foot mech running through a feel of daisies. As the pair of them left the safety of the hangers and went to the wider, more deserted firing ranges for the rigs, Casper was reminded that they were travelling a not insignificant distance at high speed.
Casper's rig was running alongside her, but it was more of a skip, where his massive metal feet kicked at the earth and his booster suite, fit to his back, propelled him forwards in great leaps and bounds. It didn't matter which way he wanted to move, the directional jets would automatically move with his desires, and fire as one, launching the human rig in a complete 3D space. Even up into the sky, although jumping was ill-advised at most times.
While Qik's rig was armoured and designed to be fast and deadly, offering her an all-round offence and defence, Casper's rig was an 'ultralight', designed to not be hit, by being faster than the opponent. It suited his style, fast and accurate, avoiding confrontation if he could. The near zero drift of his connection to his rig meant that plenty of effort was put into freedom of movement of the machine. If his body could do it in 'real life', he could do it inside his rig. Even jumping, the engineering crew of the geckins had put a lot of thought into shock absorbers, just to prevent the utter destruction of the suit from one bad landing.
It had gone so far that Qik had been tasked with teaching the young man how to roll and fall safely on crash mats in the real world. He hated those lessons; his biological side was even weaker now... not like his mechanical body. It had yet to fail him even once.
The new received message caught his full attention.
{Heavy weapon frames are equipment packages that are launched into the combat area during the softening barrages. To the enemy, it could be an unexploded ordinance. To you? It's a power up.} Casper felt something ahead, it made him giddy. It was something pleasant. Something good. Like a 'blip' in his mind, he made a straight line for it.
The pair of the giant rigs came up to the lip of a crater. At the centre, in the lowest part of the divot, was a metal lid. Without prompting the lid pinged off and a weapon package appeared from the ground.
{Approach it.}
Casper complied, sliding down the loose dirt with more ease than should have been possible. The loose dirt of the craters had toppled more than one mech in the past. As he approached however, the package unfolded, and an autocannon revealed itself to him. Without training, the software of the rig stepped in and he instantly knew how to equip the item. It was always odd when the software packages that were part of his rig inserted their knowledge in places that he had previously no experience.
He had not known to aim for joints to disable a mech's weapons or movement. He did not know that pilots were almost always situated between the shoulders at the back of the mech. He didn't know, to duck his head and shoulder the weapon platform, nor how to all clicked and clunked into place. But now, thanks to the software, he knew it by instinct. The moment he needed the information; it was there, in his mind as if he had merely forgotten it.
Casper stood up straight, shouldering the platform and felt the weight. He could feel that his movement was lessened dramatically, bending his knees under the weight.
[Its heavy.] He sent.
{You're not going to be able to boost or move at your normal speed with that thing. This is a shoot, empty the weapon, then bug out package.}
[Speed is life?] He sent with mild hope she would get the reference.
{Yes, that's a very good motto to keep in your head. Now, that mountain over there insulted us, fire at will.} She demanded, and a pockmarked slab of rock was pinged as a target. His optics tracked it perfectly, so did the cannon. The cannon was easy to use. It was as if Casper had gained a third eye, one that followed exactly where the barrel was pointing. It was no harder to aim the weapon than it was to cross or uncross one's eyes. It took concentration, an effort, but no more than that. A mild effort to aim an oversized tank cannon.
If Casper could smile, he would have, he settled for clicking his optics. The satisfying clunk and explosion of the weapon rattled the entire frame of Casper's rig with each round. His shots, despite aiming somewhat carefully, went far wider than he expected. It certainly wasn't as accurate as he wanted, so he knelt low and aimed his shots instead of firing wildly, tensing his arm.
Clunk.
Clunk.
Clunk.
The shells of the expended ordinance flew out the side of the cannon, away from his rig until they dented the earth. He was watching the rounds carefully as they arced, however. He was pleased when each hit the centre of the previous round's explosion, visibly boring into the side of the mountain until entire sections began to crumble and begin a rockslide now that gravity wanted its due.
Each time Casper willed the weapon to fire, not pulling any mechanical trigger, he felt a counter in his mind. Like each fired round made him lighter, and emptier until finally nothing more happened. He knew that he had nothing left in this weapon.
{You're out, that equipment is now nothing more than extra weight. Eject it.}
Casper shrugged and pins fired as one. The new frame that had locked around Casper's rig fell to pieces, freeing him. Immediately he felt his spine lengthen and had to resist the urge to bounce on the spot with the returned freedom. His rig twisted and flexed, while Qik's rig merely watched on, still as a statue. His rig's arms extended, then returned, shadow boxing in the open air.
{You really feel more alive out here, don't you?}
[You have no idea...]
{Tell me about it, we got more stuff to try, Southeast.}
A new 'blip' appeared in the distance. It was a curious sensation, like there was a physical presence touching his forehead when he looked in that direction. The software, melding perfectly with his nerves. The pair of them began their run once more, bounding over hills and along valleys. Casper breathed deep, the vents across his chest opening fully, reducing his armour, but allowing his reactor to run hotter. Everything was in sync.
He was the mech. The mech was the real him.
[It's a freedom unlike any other.]
{I've enjoyed lots of different freedom New Guy. It can't be that good. }
[I don't think I could explain it to you unless you lived like a human did only a little bit ago. We were told we had freedom, we didn't.]
{I hope your old leaders survived, only a matter of time until a juicy contract pops up for them}
[I don't want revenge. I just don't want to go back.]
Casper hadn't even laid eyes on the metal capsule before the lid audibly pinged off this time. His mech grabbed the lip of the crater as his legs and boosters threw him up and over the lip. It was the same movement as jumping over a fence, only his entire body knew where it was and where the ground was. He'd never catch his foot on the ground, he'd never worry about being tired. He was truly in control now.
Similar to the Autocannon there was equipment hanging in the air, ready for Casper's rig to get into position. He did so without hesitation, he trusted himself.
{Fastest method of taking out a threat is to ensure its destroyed. Let me get clear before you turn all that on.} Came a message from Qik before he felt her rig retreat rapidly over several hills.
Casper's rig stepped into the frame and a hilt was presented to his hand, which grasped and locked it into place. On his opposite arm, a round disc was bolted into place, the lug nuts twisted and locked in within seconds. Casper turned and swept the hilt in an arc in front of him, just as the fusion engine buried within burped to life.
[You got me a sword!?] He demanded, moving through several motions, finding them natural and fluid despite never having held a sword, real or fake, before.
{It's technically a blowtorch, but if you want to designate it a sword, go for it New Guy.}
Again, Casper's rig's optics clicked in glee as he swung the sword in greater arcs with faster and faster strokes until he was spinning and hopping from one leg to the other. He was graceful and deadly in equal measures. The young man felt as if he could take on any master swordsman if they had the ill fortune to cross him.
{Enjoying yourself? Good to see you so loose and limber. It'll be useful for this next bit.} Came Qik's next message, but she was beyond his range of perception, even if he tried to extend his sight, his feelings; wherever she was, if she was still in the dunes, she was low and still. Hidden from him.
He was turning his head from left to right, searching the horizon for a clue to where she might be, when the first shot pinged off his left shoulder. Sparks flew and something squealed off into the distance. Casper rolled forward with the force of the below, bending over and getting cover within the crater.
More rounds from the west began to fly overhead, chewing up the crater's edge. He could see and hear the bright flashes of the live rounds whizzing mere inches, or what felt like inches, from his head.
{New Objective: get back to the hangers without being disabled. Good luck New Guy.} Was the final message Casper received from Qik. Emotions never came across in the text format, but this felt cold, or maybe she was amused? Either way, Casper knew the lopel pilot was serious. Casper shuffled on his hands and knees, the ignited blade dying at his whim. He made his way around the crater away from the barrage of bullets that threatened to take the head off anything that appeared.
In the brief moment that Casper's reconnaissance unit popped up, time seemed to slow. His optics clicked and he immediately saw the tower that had sprung up from the ground, from between two of the formerly unimportant hills. Atop it was a turret that was firing a stream of bullets his way. In this slowed state, he could see the barrels twist and adjust to his new position, so he ducked again and shuffled to the bottom of the crater.
Moments later, the space his head had occupied exploded in a shower of dirt and sod. But Casper didn't care.
He might have cared if he was weak.
If he feared for his flesh.
But he didn't.
He was inside a machine that made him fast, strong and dangerous. He might have worn a frown, or even a grimace, but the rig couldn't recreate those movements. As he prepared to leave the crater, his optics clicked instead.
From the crater, Casper's rig exploded out of it with a burst of speed that belied the size of the machine. His legs unfolded and braced him for impact as the rig landed, scraping down the side of one of the hills, sending dirt and grass flying. There was no delay, the main thruster that sat in the very centre of Casper's back roared to life and catapulted him forwards!
If he were a mere human, he may have feared the speed at which he rocketed forwards towards the turret, he may have even feared the barrels as they tracked him, spinning up, ready to vomit another stream at him.
But not whilst he was within his mech, not while he was who he was meant to be.
He.
Was.
Invincible.
The tower grew and grew as his rig approached at Mach speed, all he had to do to reach it was kick the ground only a few moments before he hit the base directly. His trajectory changed in an instant and the rig soared into the sky majestically. The barrels flashed and burped another stream, but the sword was only part of the weapons package he had picked up, the shield bolted to his other arm was raised high, tilted to deflect, rather than absorb the rounds that screeched and wailed as they ricocheted off the solid shield.
The sword came to life once more, flame and fire that burned in the thousands of degrees flowed from the hilt, directly into the metal of the turret, cutting through the armour with ease and destroying both the precious wiring and the volatile ammunition within. Like a knife through butter. As gravity reasserted itself, Casper bent his knees and the booster pack closed all the vents on his back, opened the vents to his front and fired, softening his landing in a cloud of dirt just as the tower and the turret exploded in a shower of sparks and fire.
[Hah! Take that!] He sent on a broad wave, standing in his moment of true victory, one fist raised, holding the sword aloft.
The RL238 AAFPPT (Anti-Armour, Falling Petal, Pass Through) round pummelling straight through the left hand vents on the front of Casper's rig without losing even a fraction of its energy. The spinning munition tore through internal components without a single care, easily completing its mission of punching right back out the otherside of the machine. The round continued its journey for just short of a mile before being oblitorated as buried itself into the dirt.
The barrel of the 120mm rifle that had fired the round was still glowing at this moment. Vapour steamed gently away, unfussed by any breeze despite the violence of noise and light that flashed by only moments ago.
Qik winced in her rig as she observed the perfect hole straight through the chest of Casper’s rig. It was a hard lesson, but one every pilot needed to have.To be disabled.
What did it mean to a pilot with no drift though?
WolvensStories
Ko-Fi
Tumblr

Possible replacements for ProAir Digihaler (quick-relief inhaler)
Clinical equivalent to ProAir Digihaler:

• ProAir Respiclick (dry powder albuterol inhaler made by Teva)
• ProAir HFA and the authorized generic (albuterol–metered dose inhaler)
• Other generic albuterol HFA inhalers (available as metered dose inhalers but may not be exact equivalents to the ProAir HFA generic, as the inactive ingredients may be different)

Different but equally effective:

• Xopenex HFA and generic (levalbuterol HCI – metered dose inhaler)
• AIRSUPRA (albuterol/budesonide – a quick-relief medicine that contains two medicines)

Possible replacements for ArmonAir Digihaler (inhaled corticosteroid)

• Generic fluticasone propionate HFA (metered dose inhaler – doses are slightly different than ArmonAir but equally effective)
• Generic fluticasone propionate Diskus (dry powder inhaler – dosing may be different than ArmonAir, and the inactive ingredients may not be the same)

Other options that are different but equally effective:

• Arnuity Elipta (fluticasone furoate)
• QVAR RediHaler (beclomethasone dipropionate - breath-actuated inhaler)
• Alvesco (ciclesonide – metered dose inhaler)
• Pulmicort Flexhaler (budesonide – dry powder inhaler)
• Asmanex HFA (mometasone furoate - metered dose inhaler)
• Asmanex Twisthaler (mometasone - dry powder inhaler)
• ARNUITY ELLIPTA (fluticasone furoate – dry powder inhaler; not equivalent to ArmonAir Digihaler)

Possible replacements for AirDuo Digihaler
Advair Diskus, Advair HFA, and their generics may be an option. They contain the same medicine as AirDuo. The doses are different but equal and can be substituted. The inactive ingredients are different.

• Advair Diskus or generic fluticasone propionate/salmeterol Diskus (dry powder inhaler)
• Wixela Inhub (fluticasone propionate/salmeterol – dry powder inhaler)
• Advair HFA or generic fluticasone propionate/salmeterol HFA (metered dose inhaler)

Other options that are different but equally effective:

• Symbicort and generic Breyna (budesonide/formoterol - metered dose inhaler)
• Dulera (mometasone/formoterol – metered dose inhaler)

Your doctor can help you choose the best replacement for you.

How to Use an Asthma Inhaler

Incorrect inhaler use can stop your asthma medicines from getting to your lungs. If your medicine isn’t reaching your lungs, your asthma might be harder to control.
Inhaler mistakes are more common than you might think. Up to 92% of people with asthma use their devices incorrectly.
How you use your inhaler depends on what type it is. There are four types of inhalers:
Metered dose inhaler – This inhaler has a canister that you press down as you breathe in the medicine. It is also commonly used with a spacer or valved holding chamber.
Breath-actuated inhaler - This type of inhaler is not a press-and-breathe inhaler. Taking a fast, deep breath in pulls the medicine out of the device and into your lungs.
Dry powder inhaler—This inhaler delivers medicine as dry powder. It is a type of breath-actuated inhaler, and the medicine is delivered – This inhaler delivers medicine as a dry powder. It is a type of breath actuated inhaler. It delivers the medicine when you inhale. Some of these inhalers are round. These are Diskus inhalers.
Soft mist inhaler: This inhaler delivers medicine in a mist form. You must – This inhaler delivers medicine in a mist form. You have to prepare a new soft mist inhaler by inserting a cartridge and priming it before you use it.

I got a closed septo-rhinoplasty with Dr. Firat Demirtasoglu in Izmir, Turkey 3 months ago (flew 10 hours to get there). I paid for their complete package of transportation (to/from Izmir airport, hotel, hospital, lab, and his clinic), surgery (all hospital fees), post-op medications (7-10 day antibiotics, antihistamine to stop sneezing, extra-strength ibuprofen, Enfla-C anti-swelling supplement, saline rinse spray, and Rinopanteina spray), and 9-night hotel stay at Beyond Hotel. The package cost was €3900 (about $4300 USD), which they supposedly increase by 10% each year. Please private message me if you want to see my before and after photos. I will break down my review by categories:
Surgeon - 7/10: The following is based on my clinic consult with him 1 day before the surgery. Dr. Firat is an ENT surgeon, not a plastic surgeon. He advertises this positively for prioritizing airway function more than plastic surgeons, especially for patients with baseline breathing problems. He is fluent in basic English, but sometimes relies on his English-speaking medical assistant to further explain himself. He is very calm and kind, but blunt and straight to the point. He noticed my anxiousness, but his way of frequently reassuring me was more like "don't worry, we rarely have issues with our patients, it's not a big deal" which made my concerns feel belittled. History: Apparently been an ENT for 20 years, performing 2-3 rhinoplasties a day, 4-5 days a week (these numbers were a bit concerning, feels a little like he's trying to go through as many clients a week for business), only known under 10 (?) patients with post-op cosmetic/breathing issues. Only performs closed rhinoplasties because of decreased swelling and scarring, will take your wishes into account but highly prefers "natural" looks that fit your face. I had a hard time trusting him because I am not Turkish, I couldn't go online and find patient reviews like I can for U.S. surgeons or ask around on social media, but he was still super nice and answered all my questions. His medical assistant told me they couldn't get him to take vacations more often or take less cases each week because he loves his job so much lol.
Clinic Communication - 4/10: His office team consists of him, his English-speaking/international client assistant Raye Avci, his domestic client assistant, and his clinic nurse. I mainly communicated with Raye on WhatsApp from when I first requested a price estimate all the way to now. This part was really off-putting for me because it frequently took her 1 to 24 hours to answer my text messages, and she does not have read receipts on, so I was always on the verge of panic. I don't speak Turkish, and almost nobody in Izmir spoke English, so I was always worried that she would stop answering when I was in a concerning situation. PLEASE BUY A TURKISH E-SIM BEFORE/IMMEDIATELY AFTER LANDING IN TURKEY, MAKE SURE IT'S COMPATIBLE WITH YOUR PHONE (€20-€50) - we landed at Izmir's domestic arrival gate at 10 PM and could not contact her for 1.5 hours because there was no free airport WIFI and we did not have data/cell. I was borderline crying until I asked a cafe employee for his cellphone to call her WhatsApp number and explained we were at domestic arrivals, not international arrivals (PLEASE SPECIFY THIS BEFORE FLYING). She is very nice, but the entire team seems to not take the weight of this entire process and operation into account, it felt like much of my anxieties were downplayed by her compared to my interactions with American doctors; to me, they seem to view you as another $4300 to put in the bank that day instead of a human being who's life they are changing. She is not as responsive before you book the operation (BOOKING A SPOT = BOOKING A FLIGHT TO IZMIR AND SHOWING HER THE RECEIPT). Advice: Go out of your way to think of every question on Earth you will possibly have about this entire process after you book a date, then grill her and Dr. Firat until she answers every one of them, otherwise they will run through the process with minimum communication. Act like a Karen if you have to, an operation like this is not a joke and you can possibly face horrible consequences with little chance of them facing repercussions especially as an international patient.
Consultation - 6/10: The "consult" they do before you book an operation date is just you sending photos of your nose to Raye on WhatsApp for Dr. Firat to look at and agree/disagree to work on. There is nothing else to it unfortunately. THE WHATSAPP NUMBER IS ON HIS INSTAGRAM. The real consultation in person is 1-2 days before the operation date with him and Raye in his clinic office. First, you are taken from the hotel to the lab to get bloodwork done in order to clear you for the procedure, then you are taken to the clinic. You are given a packet of English-translate to write down your medical/surgical history, and forms to sign detailing the anesthesia/surgery process and potential complications (IMO - this is not okay, the surgeon should be verbally explaining this to you in person and making sure you understand all of this 100%, this is an invasive procedure). Then you go in his office, he looks at your nose outside and in the nostrils with a scope, assesses skin thickness, asks about breathing and other functional issues, your medical/surgical/psychiatric history, and your cosmetic wishes. He then takes professional photos of your nose in another room, uploads them to his computer, and edits them to show a simulated version of your post-op nose (slightly unrealistic, but helps explain what he will do in the OR). HE OFFERS A "LIFETIME GUARANTEE OF FREE REVISION RHINOPLASTY" IF YOU HAVE ANY ISSUES. Lastly, you pay the full amount or a down payment in cash, THEY DO NOT GIVE YOU A RECEIPT OR PROOF OF TRANSACTION LETTER. You are sent to the pharmacy across the hotel with the driver to pick up the medications and sent back to the hotel.
Surgery - 7/10: This was my first invasive procedure and first time under general anesthesia, so I am thankful for coming out alive. You are sent from the hotel to the hospital he operates in, Alfa Tip Merkezi. Raye takes you into a hospital room to change into a gown, hair cap, and slippers and you wait 10-30 minutes with her until the OR is ready for you. A nurse places 1 IV in your hand and runs saline while you wait. Dr. Firat discusses last minute concerns with you before you are taken on the hospital bed to the OR. One horrifying moment: There is basically no anesthesiologist consultation, the anesthesiologist literally asked me my anesthesia and heart history on the operating table 5 minutes before he sedated me. I've never had an anesthesia consultation in the U.S., but I am assuming it is not done when you are ON the fucking operating table. I don't remember anything after until Raye and the nurse were waking me up in my hospital room. Personally, there was no pain throughout the entire process for me, my nose was basically numb the whole time. In the OR: Dr. Firat made 3-4 incisions total inside both nostrils and placed dissolving sutures, inserted silicone pads inside each nostril which he takes out after 24-48 hours, and placed a metal cast that he removes after 7 days. There is a gauze pad taped under your nose to collect blood and mucous drainage that you change yourself for 2-4 days. When I woke up, there was an ice pack on my nose and eyes to manage my swelling and bruising. The nurse makes you eat liquid and solid food, then Raye asks if you want to stay overnight (€20-€40?), but we decided to go back to the hotel.
Post-Op - 5/10: I swelled up like a balloon in my eyes, nose, upper lip, and cheeks for the first 4 days. I also bruised very horribly around my eyes. Apparently, he did not expect this because his patients supposedly have less swelling and bruising, not sure if this was a personal issue with my body's reaction to surgery or if he did more work on my nose than his other patients. Dr. Firat and the anesthesiologist do not mention this: I had a VERY sore throat for 5 days from intubation. I think the anesthesiologist cut a bit of my throat when he intubated me because I could feel a tiny loose flap of skin moving there every time I inhaled and exhaled for the first 3 weeks. You are unable to breathe through your nose even after the silicone pads are out for 5-7 days, so the mouth-breathing is one of the worst parts of this. You have to sleep on your back, elevated at least 30° for the first 2-4 days, then you are just sleeping on your back for 1 month post-op. Avoid blowing your nose up to 1 month post-op. You have to rinse your nose with saline spray multiple times a day for 1 month, and spray your nose with Rinopanteina spray every day. My nose stopped draining on day 4 or 5, so I stopped taping the gauze under my nose. The sore throat and breathing problems made eating really hard for the first 5 days, so I struggled with eating those days. Bring work/entertainment to distract you, you WILL be bored to death in recovery. I was so bored in the hotel because I couldn't sleep or eat, so many days we just walked along the coastline which is a 5 minute walk from the hotel - PLEASE AVOID STRAINING/EXERTING A LOT OF ENERGY UP TO 1 MONTH EVEN IF YOU FEEL FINE, IT WILL SLOW THE HEALING. Raye also recommended her friend Mustafa as an English-speaking tour guide/taxi to see cool places around the city, but he charges like $100 USD for a couple hours and takes you to his friends' places where you will HAVE to spend money. Day 7: We were sent to Dr. Firat's office in the hospital to have my cast removed, but I was still extremely swollen so I was a little disappointed looking in the mirror. You will have surgical tape placed on your nose for 1-2 weeks after cast removal for swelling control SO BE OFF SCHOOL/WORK FOR AT LEAST 2-3 WEEKS FOR THIS WHOLE PROCESS. His assistant will ask for your Instagram account so they can follow you on his clinic account, you can send them post-op photos to post on his account and story with your permission. He gives you a "fit to fly" letter to show security at airports so you are allowed to board planes. He will also provide a sick note slip for work/school here if you ask before coming in that day.
Hotel - 6/10: There is only 1 or 2 front desk staff that speak okay English, but they are all nice. The rooms are very small, like nearly motel sized room with barely any walking around space after you come in. Everything is clean, there is a mini fridge with snacks, alcohol, and like 2 water bottles (cost money, there is a menu with prices on top of the fridge). There is a water kettle with a water bottle, coffee and tea packets (also costs money). They provide towels, a bath robe, slippers, a tiny shampoo/conditioneshower gel, NO TOOTHPASTE OR FACEWASH OR SHOWER RAGS. The room is cleaned and toiletries/food restocked every morning. There is a remote-controlled heater and AC. There is a small TV in the room with only 1-2 English channels (just news channels). There is free WiFi that the hotel staff will register under your passport ID number. There is free breakfast from 7 AM-10 AM in the lobby (it's just okay, a little unseasoned surprisingly, but keeps you full). There is a grocery store across the street if you need watesnacks, not full meals though. YOU CAN ONLY GET FULL MEALS AT RESTAURANTS, RESEARCH CHEAP SPOTS FOR LUNCH AND DINNER BEFORE YOU GO.
Transportation - 8/10: The clinic partners with a driver to transport you between the hotel, pharmacy, lab, clinic, and hospital. Our driver drove an old white sedan, did not speak any English at all, didn't even get his name??, but we didn't really need to talk to him. Raye does all the communication with him over the phone and in person, and she texts you when he is in the hotel lobby to pick you up. He is super nice, talks to the pharmacy/lab front desk for you, and is always on time. He drives a little bit scary, but it seems like there are almost no driving safety laws in Turkey compared to the U.S.
Nose - 8/10: I am 3 months post-op, most of the swelling went down at 1.5 months, and I can fully breathe like I could before. He removed my hump, lifted the tip a bit to supposedly drop over the next 12 months, and straightened the curviness from the front view. I have slight septal deviation and nose tilting to the right which he did not correct though. My nose is also less defined from the front, which kind of made it look a bit wider at the top. I HAD SEVERE POST-INFLAMMATORY HYPERPIGMENTATION UNDER MY EYES FROM HOW BADLY I BRUISED, I now have dark under eyes which are obvious to my family and friends. I am getting my face lasered with Moxi-laser treatments at a cosmetic center, but you will probably need to see a dermatologist if you have not had skin treatments before and face the same issue. I still have numbness in the tip of my nose. I have a cold right now, so it gets sore when I scrunch my nose, otherwise no pain. Otherwise, I am super happy with my new nose, I am SOOO much less self-conscious about not wearing a mask and just being out in public. Some people have told me they did not even notice it until I said something because it looks so natural. Life has gotten a lot less stressful for me because of how much more confident I feel.
TLDR: Dr. Firat does a great job cosmetically and functionally, but the healthcare there is otherwise lower quality than I expected. Izmir has very few English-speakers, so you will feel alone - PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE BRING A FRIEND/FAMILY MEMBER. Please research the procedure, process, medications, anesthesia, flying in Turkey, accommodations, etc. until every question on Earth has been answered, this operation is a huge deal. You are not simply getting Botox shots, you are going under general anesthesia and getting cut open in a foreign country. Calculate all your costs on top of the package price before you book (flights, food at airports and in Izmir, E-Sim data, extra entertainment, extra hotel night/hotel snacks, etc.) - BRING AT LEAST $2000 USD EXTRA FOR YOUR SAFETY. If you have a very large hump/Middle Eastern nose and don't like Western surgeons' rhinoplasties, want a natural look but also want to maintain your breathing, I would recommend Dr. Firat Demirtasoglu. I would rate my entire experience a 6/10.
His Instagram, his clinic Instagram, his TikTok, and his website.

Glass dust generated from the abrasion of food jars and drinks during shipment poses significant health and safety risks. In this comprehensive discussion, we delve into the dangers, handling precautions, ingestion risks, packaging integrity, regulatory compliance, health monitoring, environmental impact, cleaning procedures, and consumer awareness pertaining to glass dust contamination.
Glass Dust Health Hazard @doollynoted X
• Health Hazards: Glass dust, comprised of fine particulate matter, poses significant health hazards, particularly when inhaled. Inhalation of glass dust can lead to respiratory tract irritation, inflammation, and potentially severe lung damage. The sharp edges of glass particles can cause mechanical injury to lung tissues, leading to conditions such as pneumoconiosis or silicosis. Long-term exposure to glass dust may also increase the risk of respiratory infections and exacerbate pre-existing respiratory conditions.
• Contaminant Potential: Glass dust generated from the abrasion of food jars and drinks during shipment may contain microscopic glass particles. These particles have the potential to contaminate food or beverages if proper precautions are not taken. Ingestion of glass particles can cause internal injuries, ranging from minor abrasions to more serious conditions such as gastrointestinal perforation. Additionally, glass dust contamination compromises the quality and safety of food products, necessitating stringent quality control measures in packaging and transportation processes.
• Handling Precautions: Mitigating the risks associated with glass dust necessitates strict adherence to handling precautions. Individuals involved in the transportation and handling of glass-containing products should wear appropriate personal protective equipment, including gloves and respiratory masks, to minimize direct contact and inhalation of glass dust. Employing mechanical aids, such as tongs or lifting equipment, can further reduce the risk of accidental exposure to glass dust and mitigate the potential for injuries.
• Ingestion Risks: The inadvertent ingestion of glass dust-contaminated food or beverages presents a grave health risk. Ingested glass particles can cause abrasions or lacerations to the oral cavity, esophagus, stomach, and intestines, leading to bleeding, perforation, and potentially life-threatening complications such as sepsis or peritonitis. Moreover, the ingestion of glass dust may result in gastrointestinal discomfort, nausea, vomiting, and other digestive disturbances, underscoring the imperative of stringent quality assurance measures in food production and packaging.
• Packaging Integrity: Preserving the integrity of packaging materials is paramount in minimizing the generation of glass dust during shipment. Employing robust packaging solutions, such as shock-absorbent materials and partitioning inserts, can prevent jars and drinks from rubbing together and thereby reduce the abrasion-induced production of glass dust. Furthermore, optimizing stacking configurations and securing cargo during transportation can mitigate mechanical stresses on packaging, safeguarding against potential breaches that could compromise product safety and quality.
• Regulatory Compliance: Compliance with regulatory standards and guidelines is indispensable in ensuring the safety and integrity of food packaging processes. Regulatory agencies, such as the Food and Drug Administration (FDA) in the United States and the European Food Safety Authority (EFSA) in the European Union, establish stringent requirements for the packaging of food products to safeguard consumer health and prevent contamination hazards. Adherence to these regulations mandates thorough risk assessments, implementation of preventive measures, and robust quality control protocols throughout the supply chain to mitigate the risks associated with glass dust contamination.
• Health Monitoring: Given the potential health implications of prolonged exposure to glass dust, proactive health monitoring measures are imperative for individuals engaged in activities that entail handling or proximity to glass-containing materials. Regular medical surveillance, including pulmonary function tests, chest X-rays, and respiratory symptom assessments, facilitates the early detection of respiratory impairments or occupational lung diseases attributable to glass dust exposure. Timely identification of health concerns enables prompt intervention and mitigates the progression of adverse health outcomes associated with glass dust inhalation.
• Environmental Impact: The environmental ramifications of glass dust contamination extend beyond human health considerations to encompass ecological concerns. Accidental release of glass dust into the environment, whether through improper disposal or spillage during transportation, poses risks to terrestrial and aquatic ecosystems. Wildlife may inadvertently ingest glass particles, leading to gastrointestinal injuries, obstruction, or toxicity. Moreover, the accumulation of glass dust in soil and water bodies can exert adverse effects on ecosystem health, underscoring the imperative of adopting sustainable waste management practices and spill prevention measures to mitigate environmental contamination risks.
• Cleaning Procedures: Robust cleaning procedures are indispensable for mitigating the risk of glass dust contamination in food and beverage products. Thorough inspection and cleaning of packaging materials and processing equipment are essential to eliminate residual glass dust and ensure product safety. Employing validated cleaning protocols, such as hot water rinsing, sanitization with food-grade detergents, and visual inspection for glass fragments, minimizes the likelihood of glass dust transfer and ensures compliance with stringent hygiene standards. Additionally, implementing hazard analysis and critical control point (HACCP) principles enables systematic identification and mitigation of potential sources of glass dust contamination throughout the food production and packaging process.
• Consumer Awareness: Fostering consumer awareness regarding the risks associated with glass dust contamination empowers individuals to make informed decisions regarding the selection and consumption of food and beverage products. Providing clear labeling and educational materials that highlight the importance of inspecting products for signs of glass dust contamination enhances consumer vigilance and promotes responsible consumption practices. Furthermore, transparent communication channels between manufacturers, regulatory authorities, and consumers facilitate the timely dissemination of information regarding product recalls or safety advisories related to glass dust contamination incidents, thereby safeguarding public health and confidence in the food supply chain.
Notes:
Health-Conscious Glass Dust Safety Tips

• Wash hands immediately if you touch any food or drink packaging with a noticeable white powdery substance, such as beer bottles, juice containers, other food items.
• Glass dust may be present on products that are not adequately protected during shipping.
• Refrain from touching your mouth and eyes when handling items suspected of contamination with glass dust.
• Contact the seller or manufacturer promptly to report any potential issues with packaging integrity or glass dust contamination.
• Inspect food and drink packaging for signs of damage or abrasions before consuming.
• Use gloves or a cloth to handle items if you suspect glass dust contamination.
• Avoid consuming products if there is visible damage to the packaging or if glass particles are present.
• Store produce away from potential sources of glass dust when shopping.
• Dispose of any damaged or compromised packaging properly to prevent accidental ingestion of glass particles.
• Educate others about the risks of glass dust contamination and proper handling procedures.
• Stay informed about product recalls or safety advisories related to glass dust contamination incidents.

Protect Yourself: Understanding Glass Dust Health Risks

• Glass dust poses respiratory risks.
• Ingesting glass dust can cause internal injuries.
• Eye irritation is common with glass dust exposure.
• Skin contact may lead to irritation or cuts.
• Inhalation may cause coughing or wheezing.
• Glass dust can contaminate food and drinks.
• Handling contaminated items can spread dust.
• Proper disposal prevents accidental ingestion.
• Education is key to minimizing health risks.

— Doolly Noted Things Worth Noting ✏️
Find Us On Social: Instagram • X • YouTube • Facebook • Reddit • TikTok • @doollynoted
health hazards glass dust respiratory risks contamination handling precautions ingestion risks packaging integrity regulatory compliance health monitoring environmental impact cleaning procedures consumer awareness cancer

I - II - III - IV - V
Thank god I didn’t break any bones.
The shrubby softness of the ravine’s slopes had cushioned enough of my fall. I leaned onto one of the slopes and let the earthy coolness soothe my sore back. Although there would be tenderness on my tailbone and left leg, everything still felt intact.
Olek had radioed in that he’d found me. I’d given him my headphones and Zoom recorder, which he was now using to review the quality of the last takes.
“Clean sound,” he nodded with a calm seriousness.
Was it clean though?
I could faintly hear the squealing whines through the cups of my headphones, but Olek gave no reaction as he pressed the cushions closer to his ears.
I wondered if he was intentionally trying to come off as unphased. Was he actually trying to be encouraging of my work? Did the pig squealing actually not bother him?
His entire demeanor felt alien. At times he would meet my eyes, trying to maybe show a glimmer of gratitude, or perhaps sympathy, but it's like he couldn’t get his face to activate the right muscles.
“I’m glad it’s clean.” I croaked out. Or that at least you think so.
After a few minutes of listening, Olek took off the headphones, and offered a massive palm for me to grab. I really didn’t want to leave with him, but I didn’t know what else to do.
I wouldn’t know where to go on my own without getting further lost in the woods. And the last thing I wanted was to get stuck in a worse ravine, dying of thirst, awaiting bears and cougars to eat me. So I grabbed his arm.
“Your work is strong,” he said. Then he handed back my gear.
“Uh … thank you.”
The ease with which Olek knew how to operate my equipment was a little astonishing. I figured he was probably used to playing multiple roles on set (the curse of many indie films), but after he hooked my boom into my mixer without a moment’s hesitation, another thought crossed my mind. Maybe he had been expecting me to use the handheld recorder.
Maybe he had been expecting me to climb up alone in that tree this whole time. Did he somehow know I would be menaced by this ghostly pig?
I stared at his swirling trench coat as he led the way to an exiting slope. Was something supposed to happen to me in that tree?
He briefly turned around and said, “Don't forget to back up the data on that card. We can't lose it.”
Then I realized I was dealing with a guy who only cared about his film. That’s why he sent me up that oak. That’s why he didn’t care about my bruises. He truly only cared about his audio. His video. Just a regular self-absorbed dude.
Stupid as it sounds—that felt relieving. I didn’t want to focus on paranormal, conspiratorial thinking. I just wanted to get out of here.
—
With no real option, I followed Olek, limping slightly, just two steps behind. It felt very weird to come back like an obedient sheep, like a patient returned to her psych ward, but what was I supposed to do? Keep shambling through the woods? Pray that I somehow stumbled back to my car?
Within minutes we were back at the meadow, showing just how little I had actually run.
As soon as we broke through the forest, Konrad sprinted over, clasping both his palms on my shoulders. "Oh my god Anna! What happened?"
I appreciated that he had run up. The rest of the crew were still across the meadow, observing distantly, fiddling with tripods and bounce boards.
I cleared my throat and rubbed my aching left knee. “I fell into a ditch Kon. Olek got me out.”
Perhaps sensing I needed time alone with the only proper English speaker—Olek dismissed Konrad and continued to the others.
Konrad said something in Polish, but then immediately turned to me. “Are you injured? Are you like… okay?”
My limbs were sore but that wasn’t the main problem. “I’m okay, but … no, not really, I'm not okay. I don't feel comfortable right now about any of this.” I gestured at the crew, the woods, the gray clouds and turned to whispering. “I can’t be here. Something fucked is going on.”
“What do you mean?”
I didn’t really know where to start. I sort of tossed my arms, grasping for the easiest explanation, and so I pointed to the tree. “I heard some demonic sounds in my headphones when I was up there.”
Konrad glanced back at the oak in the meadow's center.
“And then when I looked down, Polina was gone. Only her shredded clothes were left.”
Konrad took a pause. "Well … that’s because Polina's wrapped. We finished her scene, so she left."
“Yes but … ” I emphasized the strangeness. “She left so abruptly, I didn’t even see her leave.”
“Well … you were up in the tree Anna, I don’t think you would be able to see her leave.”
I definitely thought I would have, but I let it go. “Well the demonic thing I heard, it sounded like an animal. It attacked Polina.”
“Attacked her?”
“Attacked, and then, well … it ate her.”
“Ate her?”
I held on to the sides of my head. My mixer was still dangling from my neck on a lanyard. “Yes, ate her! There was a slurping and crunching of some fucking animal that I recorded on my mixer. It sounded like Polina was being mauled.”
I placed my headphones on Konrad’s head and played the last sound file I recorded.
With the volume turned high, I could make out the shrieks quite vividly.
Kon seemed put off but kept listening to it. “What? You recorded this? Is the file corrupted or—?”
“—No. Even the director signed off on this! He listened and gave approval!” As I said the words, I realized how fucked that was. Olek had literally listened to this file in the ravine and said: ‘clean sound.’
Konrad looked skeptical. “Are you sure you didn't misunderstand him? I know Olek's English—”
“No! I understood him perfectly fine. That's the recording he wanted. It was some kind of boar, and it was attacking Polina.”
Kon held onto the headphones intently and nodded. “Are you sure it's not just some weird artifacting? Is the SD card malfunctioning or—”
“—The SD card is totally unused.”
“Right.” He handed the headphones back. “I mean, that doesn’t mean it can’t glitch.”
I crossed my arms. I’ve never heard of a new card glitching.
“Also, I was with the crew,” Kon pointed over his shoulder. “We were watching Polina and the tree the whole time. I didn’t see any animal, boar, or anything.”
I pointed at the pile of rags still resting by the tree "then what about all the blood on her clothes? How did they get shredded?”
"Well, I mean we're shooting a horror, Anna. That was all makeup and—."
"—I didn't see any makeup team come over!"
"That's cause you were up in the—”
“—DON’T SAY I WAS UP IN THE TREE!”
I yelled and could feel myself lose a bit of control. Olek and some of the crew glanced back from across the field. I ignored them.
“Kon, listen. Something rammed that tree and knocked me down. That’s what made me run.”
He looked at me but said nothing.
“There was this terrible pig shrieking in my headphones the whole time, and I swear I saw a big black boar run toward me for a second. That’s why I ran.”
Hands raised, Kon made eye contact with me and nodded with as much politeness as I had ever seen him muster. “Listen Anna, I’m not discounting whatever it is that you saw. Or heard. I totally respect that. Clearly something scared you. I feel you.”
“No. Kon you’re not listening to me. Something fucked is going on. I don’t know what it is, but I want nothing to do with it.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean I'm not working on this set any more. There’s something wrong. I’m going home."
I started marching forward, but Konrad moved in front of me. "Woah woah, Anna, hold up. I get it. I would feel the same way. But come on, you can't go home. We still have a couple more shots to get.”
I handed him the microphone. "Then you can record the rest yourself. Go ahead, you mix and boom.”
“If you leave, how am I supposed to get home? They don't have room in their car."
"Then ride across their laps."
"Anna please." Konrad’s voice got quiet. "I don't want to be embarrassed in front of these guys. They make amazing horror movies, like Polish A24 level shit. My previous boom op fell through. I just need you to at least stick it through the rest of the day."
I glanced over at the mobilizing crew; they had packed everything back into carrying cases. They almost looked like a normal film team, like any typical heads of department I’d seen on set of District PD or Untold Stories of the ER, but they were wearing so much black, so much leather and had so many piercings. Their entire vibe felt off.
"I agree that there is a … creepiness,” Konrad lowered his voice further. “Olek is able to cultivate an amazing atmosphere, and I think it's why his films are always so strong. He brings a realness. A sort of raw element that’s hard to explain. And obviously that can result in some eerie coincidences on set, for sure. But remember: it is just a movie. This is just a regular forest ... we’re just here to do a job.”
It feels like something is legit haunted, I wanted to say, but I held my tongue.
"Just stay a few more hours. You can stick by me for the rest of the shoot. If something requires weird booming, I’ll do it. If there's another tree situation, I'll volunteer. Whatever it takes to make you comfortable. Please. For me.”
The emotion was genuine, and despite the urgency in his voice, Konrad had let go of my arm, to show that he wasn’t trying to impede me or something. But I was still annoyed. Furious in fact, that he had tricked me into working on this janky set with a flippant director.
I considered just leaving, just trying to head back towards the parking lot. But the thing was, I didn’t know how to navigate back. I actually needed Konrad to help return to the car.
I sighed, groaned, and rubbed my left knee. “Goddamnit Kon. Why’d you mix me up in this? I told you I only work big shows now.”
“I know, but …” He put his hands in his pockets, looked at the ground. “This could become a big deal for me. I told Olek I would get a sound assistant. I didn't think this would be such an ordeal. Please … ”
The rest of the crew had now gathered all their stuff and were walking along the perimeter of the meadow, probably moving to the next location. There was the faint outline of the sun behind the overcast sky. It had risen ever so slightly, brightening the world just a little bit.
"Oh my god. Fuck. Fine. Fuck you.” I pointed directly at Kon’s skittish face. “But you listen to me: If anything else weird happens, and I mean anything off in the slightest, promise that you won't question me, and that you'll take me straight back to the car. I don’t want any second-guessing or hesitation, okay?"
"Yes. Of course.” Konrad held out his arm. “I swear on my mother’s grave.”
I stared at his pupils. He looked earnest, and eager to maintain eye contact. Then I looked at his open palm. The fingers were slowly stretching towards me, seeking confirmation.
I handed him the boom pole. “The next shot is yours. I’m not booming.”
“Sure. That’s no problem.”
“And I want to know exactly how many shots are left.”
“We can ask the AD.”
“And I want you to admit right now: that this is weird. That it's not cool you’ve roped me into this. And that you’re a fucking idiot.”
“Yes. Yes, you’re right. I’m wrong. I’m a fucking idiot.”
I hated this. I did not feel comfortable. But I needed a guide out. I needed Kon to be agreeable. Like with so many other annoying things about the film industry (the hours, the nepotism, the sexism, to name a few), there comes a time when you just have to grin and bear it. Pretend it doesn’t bother you and get through it.
I rubbed my knee one last time, and then ignored the soreness as I continued to walk. Pretending is what I do best.
—
We set up for lunch by some logs near the meadow’s edge, using gear cases as tables. Konrad had advocated that we could use a reset (which I appreciated), and thankfully no one was opposed to an early snack. Most of the crew members had skipped their breakfast.
Over sandwiches, I focused on relaxing. I wanted this to be just a normal set. I didn’t want to be in panic mode the whole time.
So, I bit the bullet and apologized to the crew. I didn’t want them judging me for the rest of the day. I stood up in the middle of their eating circle and said I was sorry. In response, The AD came and patted my back, telling me not to worry, and that apologies were unnecessary.
Everyone came to understand that I had had a panic attack, but now I was okay. They were respecting that. Everyone acknowledged that the woods were dark, and it is of course very easy to see things that aren’t there. It is reasonable to get afraid.
“In the forest,” the makeup artist said, “it is natural to be scared.”
“Yes, it is very natural,” I said. Then I sat back into my own corner.
My sandwich was packed with lentils just like Konrad had said. In fact, they had made two huge sandwiches just for me, which I was grateful for because my body was craving energy.
Even though I wanted to inhale the food, I paced myself. I ate as normally as I would on any other occasion, because the more I acted like everything was fine, the more mentally everything felt fine.
I made small talk.
I stretched my legs.
I asked Kon what this movie was even about.
“Oh, it's a Polish folklore film.” He spoke in-between bites. "It's about scary things in the forest."
“Like scary things … attacking Polina?”
“Sort of. Polina plays Północnica. ‘Lady Midnight’”
“Lady Midnight?”
“Yes. She is a ghost in Polish folklore. A wraith who will try and possess your body.”
I chewed and wondered how Polina’s cowering and wailing was supposed to make her a possessive wraith. “She seems more like a victim to me.”
“That’s because she is.” Kon wiped his mouth. “This film is her origin story. Before she became Północnica, she was just a regular woman. A regular villager who made a bad deal with the devil, who then cursed her to wander the earth as a wraith.”
I nodded as if this was common knowledge. “You’ve read the script?”
“No. I know it from childhood. My mom used to warn me not to wander into the backcountry by myself, or else I risk meeting Lady Midnight. Who would then kidnap me, usurp my body, etcetera etcetera.”
“Right.” I grabbed another napkin and looked at the rest of the crew. They were all eating two huge sandwiches, if not more. I could smell the tangy waft of horseradish, mustard, and spicy sausage. Olek looked like he was annoyed that we were on break.
“And so … why did this crew fly all the way here?” I whispered. “Why shoot some Polish folk tale—in Vancouver?”
"Oh, I think the producer is half-Canadian. And he was able to secure some funding here. Something like that."
What funding? I wanted to say. I've seen high school films with higher budgets. But I chewed my lentils and stayed quiet.
We tossed all our crumpled wax paper and empty water bottles into a portable trash. At least they got that much right.
After enjoying a fruit bar as a dessert, I could actually feel myself winding down. My heart was no longer beating in my throat, the butterflies in my stomach were gone.
Relishing the feeling, I unwrapped a stick of gum—and then came the rustling.
Everyone paused and looked towards a set of bushes.
It was hard to articulate why, but even through the leaves, I could tell it was something walking on hooves. There was something padded about the movement. And maybe it was just me, but I could swear I heard a soft, ineffable oinking in the distance.
The crew sprang into action, locking the camera to its tripod within seconds. Konrad jumped up and grabbed my boom with a look that said: I’ll take this one.
Everyone aimed in the direction of the foliage, trying to capture whatever lurked. Olek glued himself to the viewfinder, zooming and adjusting the camera all himself. Konrad fully extended the boom and swung it around, trying to capture the sounds of whatever approached.
At the base of the bushes, I could see Polina’s gray rags lying splayed on the ground—was that intentional? Were the rags supposed to lure something?
For a moment, everyone went still. It felt like the entire wilderness had gone silent. A quiet wind lightly teased some branches. Olek turned both of his palms upward, as if he was holding something, or receiving something. Summoning something?
There came a growl, and everyone lowered their heads, looking for the source. Konrad got a little too animated and swung his boom pole right at Olek's temple.
Olek lashed out with one of his massive arms, which clipped the camera beside him, sending it straight to the ground. The bushes shuffled one more time, and then the pig, (or moose, or whatever it was) could be heard trailing away, breaking into a trot.
Olek brought the camera right up to his face, and aggressively clicked around the viewfinder’s touch screen. “Nie! Nie!” He slapped the device, as if he could rewind it to the moment before the opportunity was lost.
He waved his arms, trying to attract whatever energy had just dissipated, then stepped past the camera to face the bushes. “No kurwa mać!”
Like an angry child, Olek poked his head into the leaves and began batting at them, “Konrad ty pierdol! Ale to spieprzyłeś!”
Konrad’s eyes turned wide and quivering, he tried to withdraw into some reality where the take had not been ruined. Olek approached him with a slung back hand, ready to release some retributive slap. But after a tense moment, the only release was a torrent of spit on Kon’s face as Olek yelled and yelled and yelled.
Still sitting, I inched away on the log, afraid of what the director might do next. Even the rest of the crew took a few steps back.
As quickly as the tantrum started, Olek exhaled and dismissed Konrad, clearly unable to bear another glance.
Konrad snuck away, pretending to fiddle with the knobs on his mixer. Everyone looked at each other, but mostly at the ground. Some ravens cawed in the distance.
I was very glad it wasn't me who messed up.
—
With the afternoon came a powerful silence. You could hear squirrels scampering up trees, and woodpeckers drilling somewhere far, far away. The previously conversational crew, who would swap comments and observations for lively stretches of time, were now replaced by a band of servants who quickly nodded at whatever the director said.
I asked Konrad what exactly Olek had been trying to shoot earlier, and “how did everyone know to record the bushes?” Kon sighed and said that they were just looking for wilderness B roll. Olek had been trying to capture a deer on camera all week.
Without wasting time, the AD filled the silence. Our next shots were a series of POVs meant to simulate Polina running through the woods. The director would be handling the camera.
Trying to compensate for his screw up, Kon made sure we were ready first. We fastened a set of wireless mics directly to the camera, which was then mounted inside a rig that resembled a detached steering wheel. A makeshift Steadicam.
Rolling back the sleeves of his trench coat, Olek lifted the steering wheel and strode through the woods by himself, recording a shaky blur of trees, branches, and gloom. The rest of us huddled behind a monitor, watching the resulting footage, whispering only when necessary.
The cautious silence was definitely a change in tone, but it didn’t bother me. Previously I had felt like the odd one out. The Canadian fish that had slipped into some foreign Euro-Slavic pond. But now it felt like we were all in this together, we were all waiting for this manic director to blow off steam by galloping through the trees.
The footage didn’t look great (in my opinion). It was a glorified go-pro shot with a bad frame rate. The sound wasn’t much better. Kon and I both exchanged wide eyes listening to Olek’s grunts and groans as he trampled over the forest floor.
“Polish A24 huh?” I whispered in between takes.
“Maybe not this part,” Konrad shrugged, trying to play it off ... “we’ll fix it in post.”
It took about an hour of Olek trying to get some fern branches to ‘brush the lens in just the right way’ but eventually the plants seemed to oblige. He returned triumphant, lifting the camera above his head (as if it weighed nothing). Then he cleared the blonde strands clinging to the sweaty sides of his face, revealing a wicked smile.
“Okej. Running shot done. Now our final location.”
Olek gave the AD a high five and the spirits of the crew lifted slightly. Even I was starting to feel a sliver of cheer. Final location? Already? Does that mean we’re almost done?
“No more mistakes,” Olek pointed at Konrad, handing the camera away to some crew.
Kon said nothing.
—
Of course, getting to our final spot wasn’t so easy. The last shot required us to march much deeper into the forest, which reignited all the paranoia I was trying to rid myself of.
The pine trees grew taller and darker. The bird calls became deeper and raspier.
To ease my mind, I sidled right next to the AD at the front, to watch how he was navigating our misfit convoy. He smiled and showed me a pocket-sized GPS. It had a bright screen depicting a flag icon which we were nearing labelled ‘wieża.’
I asked him what it meant, and he just pointed ahead and said: ”Very soon.”
Despite the manifold branches and shadowy canopy, I could see a thin strip of metal gleam in the trees. In a few minutes we were approaching some long-abandoned radio tower that sat deep in the wilderness. This was the wieża.
Why was it built so far from civilization? As we climbed up the bramble-filled incline, I could make out a dwelling at its base and realized this must have been some outpost. A weather monitoring station?
The trees opened up and I could see we were in the midst of a relic. A two floored cabin that had faced the ravages of time and lost.
On its left side, the walls were built into the legs of the iron tower, which were now completely covered in vines and guarding a nest of abandoned firewood. The rest of the cabin was log-built, which gave it a pioneer feel, except the whole thing was caked in a bed of moss. Like it had sprouted out of the ground. I tried to look in, but the windows were completely boarded up (and also covered in more moss).
It had to be the most overgrown thing I’d ever seen.
“We think it used to be some kind of forest ranger outpost,” Konrad said. “But it has long been abandoned. Pretty sweet location huh?”
When we reached its vicinity, I pressed a finger into the cabin's exterior and felt the moss travel past my knuckles. It was remarkable that something so sturdy was abandoned like this. I would guess up to four people could have stayed here, living off camp supplies. How long was it used for?
“We must get coverage.” Olek announced, gesturing vaguely at the scenery. “Camera and sound. I want to capture it all.”
The crew got to work, opening all the carrying cases. I whispered to Kon. “So are we like shooting a scene or … ?”
“No. Not really,” Konrad turned on his mixer, and started playing with the levels. “Environmental shots, we’re just recording the feel of this place.”
Recording the feel? It sounded a bit vague, but I shrugged. I wasn’t about to question the experimental process of our genius director.
—
Unlike the running POVs which were shot rather quickly, Olek allowed ample time for the cabin’s cinematography. The DP alternated lenses and tripod heights until he found the perfect frames that evoked the ominous allure of this place.
It felt more like we were making art.
Konrad and I circumnavigated the house, calling for silence when we needed it. Our mics picked up the buzzing of local bugs, the faint squeaking of chipmunks and even a couple of owls which must’ve prematurely woken up.
I didn’t know if I wanted to admit it, but it was actually kind of fun.
On ninety nine percent of sets you record the same dialogue for hours. You’re competing with plane sounds and traffic sirens. You’ve got bitchy actors, entitled crew, indecisive directors, and rushed schedules that sap all the magic out of filmmaking. But here, in the middle of the woods, Me and Konrad just spent five minutes recording the rich, textural creak of an ancient cabin door. Olek was giving Kon the dead eye, but our recordings were still fully approved.
After an hour of capturing the surroundings, the AD called for a break.
The team turned to discussing how to shoot the interior, which was a technical conversation (all in Polish), so I focused on readying our gear.
As far as I knew, no one had brought any mobile lighting kits, so I wasn’t sure how they actually planned to shoot inside. We would have to spend an hour scouring mulch off glass for any natural light. And I wasn’t signing up for that job.
As if reading my mind, the AD approached me with an encouraging smile. He was clearly going to ask me to do something stupid. I took my time opening the package of fresh batteries, lined up the negative and positive charges in my mic, twice to be sure.
“Hello Anna, thank you so much for coming out today.”
“No problem. Give me a second.”
I did the same thing with my other microphone, double checking everything. If he was going to waste my time, I would waste his.
“How would you like to be in this film?”
I paused. “Be in this film? What do you mean?”
“Do you want to be actress?”
Without even intending to, my jaw dropped a little. I was not expecting this.
“No. Sorry. I don’t want to be an actress.”
The AD didn’t push it any further. He went back to the circle of crew and spoke with Olek. The director said some things, pulled Konrad aside, and then Konrad walked over to me.
Before he could open his mouth, I raised my hand. “Um, I’m not acting in this movie.”
“Who said anything about acting?” Konrad smiled, laughed a small laugh. “No no, nobody wants you to act. There’s just one particular shot they want to get. You see, technically speaking, this cabin is meant to be the birthplace of Północnica.”
“Pół—You mean Polina’s character?”
“Yeah. We’re getting shots of her home here as a flashback element. But Olek thinks it would be good to also get the back of the character’s head and profile, as she looks through her old house.”
Is that what we’ve been shooting? Some experimental flashback? “So, why was Polina wrapped earlier then?”
“It was an oversight. Now Olek thinks adding a Polina stand-in would be clutch.”
“Well, I’m sorry. I don’t want to be a stand in.” I looked at the mossy cabin, at the gaping black hole of the half open door. “Can’t Olek like … shoot Polina on a green screen?”
“No, no, come on, Anna, Olek doesn’t do that. He’s all practical. You have the same length of black hair. You’re about the same height. It’s just for one shot.”
“No Kon. I don’t want to do it.”
“You can think of it as an apology for getting you wrapped up in this. Olek will give you a day rate for acting.”
“What?”
“And I’ll give you half my day’s wage on top of that. Compensation for leaving you in that tree.”
“What the hell. Why?”
Konrad lowered his voice and brought his hands into a small prayer. “Please. I want this film to be a success. I want to be hired by these guys again. I’ve kept my word haven’t I?”
“What word?”
“That I’d act as a shield. Prevent you from doing anything uncomfortable.”
“Kon. This is making me feel uncomfortable.”
“But it’s the last thing! After this we’re done! We’ll go straight back to the car.”
I looked over the rest of the crew. The DP was waving his arms, explaining something to Olek who was nodding with minimal effort. Then Olek turned and looked directly at me. His gray eyes shimmered with focus that prevented mine from leaving. A hawk spying a mouse.
I did a full one eighty and faced the cabin. Konrad came over, hands still pleading, voice still a whisper. “I’ll even pay for your gas! For here and back—”
“—Listen Kon. Whatever pickup shot this is. It's the last thing I’m doing. Then we’re leaving.”
“So … is that a yes?”
“Get the AD to announce I am leaving right after this. You’re taking me straight back to my car.”
“Sure. Yeah I can do that.”
“And tell Olek I’m only doing one take.”
Konrad scratched the back of his neck; he looked over at the director. “Only one? But what if we need—”
“—I’m only doing one. That’s it. One and I’m out. If we need another that's your problem, you deal with Olek.”
“Okay. Okay, sure that’s fine. I’ll figure it out. Thank you Anna. Thank you so much.”
He gave me a hug. I stayed facing the cabin.
—
The makeup artist combed and sprayed my hair to match the wavy raggedness of Polina’s. She wasn’t very talkative but did mention I had pretty hair—naturally silky, and that it was easy to manipulate. Very easy to manipulate.
The AD had announced that this was going to be my last shot, just as Kon promised, and that I would be escorted as soon as we were done. It also meant my makeup artist had to triple check her work with a dozen brushes and wedges.
According to her, I looked “fabularna” (which must’ve meant “fable-like”). I responded with probably the meekest smile in my life.
Although shredded at the skirt, the upper half of Polina’s dress was still fully intact, and so I was allowed to change into it behind the cabin. No one came to supervise.
As I left, I could hear the echoes of the crew arguing. Olek was criticizing Konrad again over something. I ignored it.
For the first time since picking up Kon this morning, I was completely by myself. I took a moment to assess the whole situation.
This was it. Just me, by myself. In the middle of the woods with a bunch of strangers and a single friend from film school who gaffed my fourth year short. He was an alright gaffer, I guess.
Like honestly, I trust Konrad and think he’s a decent guy. He helped me land some of my first gigs out of film school. But those gigs were always weird.
He’d always be doing sound on music videos between half a dozen heavy metal bands I’d never heard of. All of them paid in cash. There was always a DP who would smoke weed in-between takes, or band members who always arrived late. I’ll never forget the day we wasted a whole afternoon on an insert of live snake as it slithered across sound speakers, our film gear, and then all the way into a kitchen cupboard. It was not a planned shot.
But despite the bullshit, I always did get paid. At a crucial point in my life too. I always felt like I owed Kon for that. It was a legitimate steppingstone for me.
Breathe. You’ve got this.
I stripped down to basically my underwear—relinquishing the cover and warmth of my trusty jeans, and oversized hoodie.
Christ it is cold. This dress is damp as hell.
I put my jeans back on. They’re only shooting from the waist up anyway. Considering the sudden windchill, it was something like two degrees outside.
Just five minutes of standing in the cold. You’ve had worse. Pretend you’re fine.
Pretending is what I’m good at.
I walked back over, holding a bundle of my previous clothes. The camera was set up, pointing into the open maw of the cabin.
The AD stood by the door, acting as a proxy for where I would be standing. “You’re still wearing your pants,” he said.
“Is that a problem?” I pointed to my waist and raised my finger until it reached my disinterested face. “I thought this was a medium.”
There was some muttering behind the camera. Olek seemed upset, but Konrad’s voice won out. “That’s fine, we can make that work right? It’s only one shot.”
Olek stepped out from behind the crew, looking unimpressed with the world at large. He waved his hand dismissively at the AD. He clearly didn’t care about my pants. Good.
“Alright, so you want me to open this door and stare into the cabin, right?” I stood in front of the cabin and gripped the handle. The handle was slimy with moss, and very cold from the sudden windiness around us. The hinges on the door itself were remarkably intact, so despite some creaky resistance, I managed to push it shut without much hassle. Then, flexing my arm a little, I pulled and opened the door again, pretending to look inside and recognize my beloved old home.
My beloved—completely pitch black—old home.
“Like this? Does that work?” I will give them this one take, and I will do it well—so everything is firmly over and done with.
The wind was causing my hair to whip back and forth, I calmly adjusted it back in place. “Any changes or can we just slate this already?”
The camera raised slightly, and Konrad found a new spot for his boom over my head.
“Another rehearsal,” Olek said. “Go again.”
I carefully returned the door to its closed position, and then went back to my starting mark on the ground. I should have told Konrad: max two rehearsals. For all I knew, Olek was going to get me to rehearse this over and over, and secretly record a dozen takes. It was the oldest trick in the book.
Whatever, give him the rehearsals.
Again, I flexed my right arm, lifted the handle, and pulled with that slight trepidation I’ve seen all actors do as they enter any place of plot significance.
Oooh what could be inside? Oh my gosh, it looks like the actor is realizing something! I stiffened my shoulder and then craned my neck inside.
And then I did in fact realize something. Why is the wind so strong?
It felt like a geyser of air was slowly blowing harder and harder.
I turned around to adjust, to brace myself against the door, when suddenly a blast of air thrust me forward.
My hands barely broke my fall.
Before I could make a sound—before I could even look up—SLAM!
The door had sealed me inside.
All light had vanished.
I quickly got up, ignoring the pain in my arms and yelled toward the door. “Hey! Hello! HELLO!”
The wind howled against the cabin.
I moved forward and found the door by the handle. I tried to push, but it felt like there was a wall on the other side. I couldn’t even budge it a little.
“Hello! Can you open up? Hello?!”
I pushed with my arm, my foot, and my back. Then I banged my fists right above the handle.
Goddamnit. Can they not hear me? Why is the door jammed?
I took deep breaths, my paranoia spilled out. Butterflies tickled my stomach and flew into my head. My heart bounced between my lungs. I pivoted on the ancient wooden floor, feeling dirt twist beneath my sneakers.
Don’t panic. There’s just a gale outside. They must all be disoriented. Although it had no bars, my phone still made a decent flashlight.
I lit up a floor covered with twigs and dirt. There was a cot on the far side, next to some broken shelves and a cluttered table. A couple plastic coolers lay all over the floor.
I looked around for another door on the opposite side of the cabin. Please tell me I overlooked one. There’s gotta be one there!
Of course there was none.
Then I discovered a ladder which led up to the tiny attic floor. If I was really desperate, I could maybe break through one of the upper windows, and cry for help or something.
But before I could plan my route, the door swung open again. It clipped my already sore leg.
Down on the floor, I reached out to the sudden blast of outdoor light. A large shape was tossed onto me, pinning me to the ground. Judging by the smell of the deodorant: it was Kon.
“Hey! Hold the door!” I shouted.
But the sliver of light vanished faster than I could get up.
“What the hell!” I tossed Konrad off of me, confused and angry at what was going on. I grabbed my phone light off the floor. “Kon, is that you!?”
It was, but he didn’t look to be moving. He was still wearing his large Sennheiser headphones, and he was awkwardly cradling a boom between his arms. I rolled him over onto his back, and that’s when I saw it.
A tear at his throat. A large bloody rip of missing flesh. It was soaked in red.
Fuck. What the fuck. What in god's name is happening.

I - II - III - IV - V
Thank god I didn’t break any bones.
The shrubby softness of the ravine’s slopes had cushioned enough of my fall. I leaned onto one of the slopes and let the earthy coolness soothe my sore back. Although there would be tenderness on my tailbone and left leg, everything still felt intact.
Olek had radioed in that he’d found me. I’d given him my headphones and Zoom recorder, which he was now using to review the quality of the last takes.
“Clean sound,” he nodded with a calm seriousness.
Was it clean though?
I could faintly hear the squealing whines through the cups of my headphones, but Olek gave no reaction as he pressed the cushions closer to his ears.
I wondered if he was intentionally trying to come off as unphased. Was he actually trying to be encouraging of my work? Did the pig squealing actually not bother him?
His entire demeanor felt alien. At times he would meet my eyes, trying to maybe show a glimmer of gratitude, or perhaps sympathy, but it's like he couldn’t get his face to activate the right muscles.
“I’m glad it’s clean.” I croaked out. Or that at least you think so.
After a few minutes of listening, Olek took off the headphones, and offered a massive palm for me to grab. I really didn’t want to leave with him, but I didn’t know what else to do.
I wouldn’t know where to go on my own without getting further lost in the woods. And the last thing I wanted was to get stuck in a worse ravine, dying of thirst, awaiting bears and cougars to eat me. So I grabbed his arm.
“Your work is strong,” he said. Then he handed back my gear.
“Uh … thank you.”
The ease with which Olek knew how to operate my equipment was a little astonishing. I figured he was probably used to playing multiple roles on set (the curse of many indie films), but after he hooked my boom into my mixer without a moment’s hesitation, another thought crossed my mind. Maybe he had been expecting me to use the handheld recorder.
Maybe he had been expecting me to climb up alone in that tree this whole time. Did he somehow know I would be menaced by this ghostly pig?
I stared at his swirling trench coat as he led the way to an exiting slope. Was something supposed to happen to me in that tree?
He briefly turned around and said, “Don't forget to back up the data on that card. We can't lose it.”
Then I realized I was dealing with a guy who only cared about his film. That’s why he sent me up that oak. That’s why he didn’t care about my bruises. He truly only cared about his audio. His video. Just a regular self-absorbed dude.
Stupid as it sounds—that felt relieving. I didn’t want to focus on paranormal, conspiratorial thinking. I just wanted to get out of here.
—
With no real option, I followed Olek, limping slightly, just two steps behind. It felt very weird to come back like an obedient sheep, like a patient returned to her psych ward, but what was I supposed to do? Keep shambling through the woods? Pray that I somehow stumbled back to my car?
Within minutes we were back at the meadow, showing just how little I had actually run.
As soon as we broke through the forest, Konrad sprinted over, clasping both his palms on my shoulders. "Oh my god Anna! What happened?"
I appreciated that he had run up. The rest of the crew were still across the meadow, observing distantly, fiddling with tripods and bounce boards.
I cleared my throat and rubbed my aching left knee. “I fell into a ditch Kon. Olek got me out.”
Perhaps sensing I needed time alone with the only proper English speaker—Olek dismissed Konrad and continued to the others.
Konrad said something in Polish, but then immediately turned to me. “Are you injured? Are you like… okay?”
My limbs were sore but that wasn’t the main problem. “I’m okay, but … no, not really, I'm not okay. I don't feel comfortable right now about any of this.” I gestured at the crew, the woods, the gray clouds and turned to whispering. “I can’t be here. Something fucked is going on.”
“What do you mean?”
I didn’t really know where to start. I sort of tossed my arms, grasping for the easiest explanation, and so I pointed to the tree. “I heard some demonic sounds in my headphones when I was up there.”
Konrad glanced back at the oak in the meadow's center.
“And then when I looked down, Polina was gone. Only her shredded clothes were left.”
Konrad took a pause. "Well … that’s because Polina's wrapped. We finished her scene, so she left."
“Yes but … ” I emphasized the strangeness. “She left so abruptly, I didn’t even see her leave.”
“Well … you were up in the tree Anna, I don’t think you would be able to see her leave.”
I definitely thought I would have, but I let it go. “Well the demonic thing I heard, it sounded like an animal. It attacked Polina.”
“Attacked her?”
“Attacked, and then, well … it ate her.”
“Ate her?”
I held on to the sides of my head. My mixer was still dangling from my neck on a lanyard. “Yes, ate her! There was a slurping and crunching of some fucking animal that I recorded on my mixer. It sounded like Polina was being mauled.”
I placed my headphones on Konrad’s head and played the last sound file I recorded.
With the volume turned high, I could make out the shrieks quite vividly.
Kon seemed put off but kept listening to it. “What? You recorded this? Is the file corrupted or—?”
“—No. Even the director signed off on this! He listened and gave approval!” As I said the words, I realized how fucked that was. Olek had literally listened to this file in the ravine and said: ‘clean sound.’
Konrad looked skeptical. “Are you sure you didn't misunderstand him? I know Olek's English—”
“No! I understood him perfectly fine. That's the recording he wanted. It was some kind of boar, and it was attacking Polina.”
Kon held onto the headphones intently and nodded. “Are you sure it's not just some weird artifacting? Is the SD card malfunctioning or—”
“—The SD card is totally unused.”
“Right.” He handed the headphones back. “I mean, that doesn’t mean it can’t glitch.”
I crossed my arms. I’ve never heard of a new card glitching.
“Also, I was with the crew,” Kon pointed over his shoulder. “We were watching Polina and the tree the whole time. I didn’t see any animal, boar, or anything.”
I pointed at the pile of rags still resting by the tree "then what about all the blood on her clothes? How did they get shredded?”
"Well, I mean we're shooting a horror, Anna. That was all makeup and—."
"—I didn't see any makeup team come over!"
"That's cause you were up in the—”
“—DON’T SAY I WAS UP IN THE TREE!”
I yelled and could feel myself lose a bit of control. Olek and some of the crew glanced back from across the field. I ignored them.
“Kon, listen. Something rammed that tree and knocked me down. That’s what made me run.”
He looked at me but said nothing.
“There was this terrible pig shrieking in my headphones the whole time, and I swear I saw a big black boar run toward me for a second. That’s why I ran.”
Hands raised, Kon made eye contact with me and nodded with as much politeness as I had ever seen him muster. “Listen Anna, I’m not discounting whatever it is that you saw. Or heard. I totally respect that. Clearly something scared you. I feel you.”
“No. Kon you’re not listening to me. Something fucked is going on. I don’t know what it is, but I want nothing to do with it.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean I'm not working on this set any more. There’s something wrong. I’m going home."
I started marching forward, but Konrad moved in front of me. "Woah woah, Anna, hold up. I get it. I would feel the same way. But come on, you can't go home. We still have a couple more shots to get.”
I handed him the microphone. "Then you can record the rest yourself. Go ahead, you mix and boom.”
“If you leave, how am I supposed to get home? They don't have room in their car."
"Then ride across their laps."
"Anna please." Konrad’s voice got quiet. "I don't want to be embarrassed in front of these guys. They make amazing horror movies, like Polish A24 level shit. My previous boom op fell through. I just need you to at least stick it through the rest of the day."
I glanced over at the mobilizing crew; they had packed everything back into carrying cases. They almost looked like a normal film team, like any typical heads of department I’d seen on set of District PD or Untold Stories of the ER, but they were wearing so much black, so much leather and had so many piercings. Their entire vibe felt off.
"I agree that there is a … creepiness,” Konrad lowered his voice further. “Olek is able to cultivate an amazing atmosphere, and I think it's why his films are always so strong. He brings a realness. A sort of raw element that’s hard to explain. And obviously that can result in some eerie coincidences on set, for sure. But remember: it is just a movie. This is just a regular forest ... we’re just here to do a job.”
It feels like something is legit haunted, I wanted to say, but I held my tongue.
"Just stay a few more hours. You can stick by me for the rest of the shoot. If something requires weird booming, I’ll do it. If there's another tree situation, I'll volunteer. Whatever it takes to make you comfortable. Please. For me.”
The emotion was genuine, and despite the urgency in his voice, Konrad had let go of my arm, to show that he wasn’t trying to impede me or something. But I was still annoyed. Furious in fact, that he had tricked me into working on this janky set with a flippant director.
I considered just leaving, just trying to head back towards the parking lot. But the thing was, I didn’t know how to navigate back. I actually needed Konrad to help return to the car.
I sighed, groaned, and rubbed my left knee. “Goddamnit Kon. Why’d you mix me up in this? I told you I only work big shows now.”
“I know, but …” He put his hands in his pockets, looked at the ground. “This could become a big deal for me. I told Olek I would get a sound assistant. I didn't think this would be such an ordeal. Please … ”
The rest of the crew had now gathered all their stuff and were walking along the perimeter of the meadow, probably moving to the next location. There was the faint outline of the sun behind the overcast sky. It had risen ever so slightly, brightening the world just a little bit.
"Oh my god. Fuck. Fine. Fuck you.” I pointed directly at Kon’s skittish face. “But you listen to me: If anything else weird happens, and I mean anything off in the slightest, promise that you won't question me, and that you'll take me straight back to the car. I don’t want any second-guessing or hesitation, okay?"
"Yes. Of course.” Konrad held out his arm. “I swear on my mother’s grave.”
I stared at his pupils. He looked earnest, and eager to maintain eye contact. Then I looked at his open palm. The fingers were slowly stretching towards me, seeking confirmation.
I handed him the boom pole. “The next shot is yours. I’m not booming.”
“Sure. That’s no problem.”
“And I want to know exactly how many shots are left.”
“We can ask the AD.”
“And I want you to admit right now: that this is weird. That it's not cool you’ve roped me into this. And that you’re a fucking idiot.”
“Yes. Yes, you’re right. I’m wrong. I’m a fucking idiot.”
I hated this. I did not feel comfortable. But I needed a guide out. I needed Kon to be agreeable. Like with so many other annoying things about the film industry (the hours, the nepotism, the sexism, to name a few), there comes a time when you just have to grin and bear it. Pretend it doesn’t bother you and get through it.
I rubbed my knee one last time, and then ignored the soreness as I continued to walk. Pretending is what I do best.
—
We set up for lunch by some logs near the meadow’s edge, using gear cases as tables. Konrad had advocated that we could use a reset (which I appreciated), and thankfully no one was opposed to an early snack. Most of the crew members had skipped their breakfast.
Over sandwiches, I focused on relaxing. I wanted this to be just a normal set. I didn’t want to be in panic mode the whole time.
So, I bit the bullet and apologized to the crew. I didn’t want them judging me for the rest of the day. I stood up in the middle of their eating circle and said I was sorry. In response, The AD came and patted my back, telling me not to worry, and that apologies were unnecessary.
Everyone came to understand that I had had a panic attack, but now I was okay. They were respecting that. Everyone acknowledged that the woods were dark, and it is of course very easy to see things that aren’t there. It is reasonable to get afraid.
“In the forest,” the makeup artist said, “it is natural to be scared.”
“Yes, it is very natural,” I said. Then I sat back into my own corner.
My sandwich was packed with lentils just like Konrad had said. In fact, they had made two huge sandwiches just for me, which I was grateful for because my body was craving energy.
Even though I wanted to inhale the food, I paced myself. I ate as normally as I would on any other occasion, because the more I acted like everything was fine, the more mentally everything felt fine.
I made small talk.
I stretched my legs.
I asked Kon what this movie was even about.
“Oh, it's a Polish folklore film.” He spoke in-between bites. "It's about scary things in the forest."
“Like scary things … attacking Polina?”
“Sort of. Polina plays Północnica. ‘Lady Midnight’”
“Lady Midnight?”
“Yes. She is a ghost in Polish folklore. A wraith who will try and possess your body.”
I chewed and wondered how Polina’s cowering and wailing was supposed to make her a possessive wraith. “She seems more like a victim to me.”
“That’s because she is.” Kon wiped his mouth. “This film is her origin story. Before she became Północnica, she was just a regular woman. A regular villager who made a bad deal with the devil, who then cursed her to wander the earth as a wraith.”
I nodded as if this was common knowledge. “You’ve read the script?”
“No. I know it from childhood. My mom used to warn me not to wander into the backcountry by myself, or else I risk meeting Lady Midnight. Who would then kidnap me, usurp my body, etcetera etcetera.”
“Right.” I grabbed another napkin and looked at the rest of the crew. They were all eating two huge sandwiches, if not more. I could smell the tangy waft of horseradish, mustard, and spicy sausage. Olek looked like he was annoyed that we were on break.
“And so … why did this crew fly all the way here?” I whispered. “Why shoot some Polish folk tale—in Vancouver?”
"Oh, I think the producer is half-Canadian. And he was able to secure some funding here. Something like that."
What funding? I wanted to say. I've seen high school films with higher budgets. But I chewed my lentils and stayed quiet.
We tossed all our crumpled wax paper and empty water bottles into a portable trash. At least they got that much right.
After enjoying a fruit bar as a dessert, I could actually feel myself winding down. My heart was no longer beating in my throat, the butterflies in my stomach were gone.
Relishing the feeling, I unwrapped a stick of gum—and then came the rustling.
Everyone paused and looked towards a set of bushes.
It was hard to articulate why, but even through the leaves, I could tell it was something walking on hooves. There was something padded about the movement. And maybe it was just me, but I could swear I heard a soft, ineffable oinking in the distance.
The crew sprang into action, locking the camera to its tripod within seconds. Konrad jumped up and grabbed my boom with a look that said: I’ll take this one.
Everyone aimed in the direction of the foliage, trying to capture whatever lurked. Olek glued himself to the viewfinder, zooming and adjusting the camera all himself. Konrad fully extended the boom and swung it around, trying to capture the sounds of whatever approached.
At the base of the bushes, I could see Polina’s gray rags lying splayed on the ground—was that intentional? Were the rags supposed to lure something?
For a moment, everyone went still. It felt like the entire wilderness had gone silent. A quiet wind lightly teased some branches. Olek turned both of his palms upward, as if he was holding something, or receiving something. Summoning something?
There came a growl, and everyone lowered their heads, looking for the source. Konrad got a little too animated and swung his boom pole right at Olek's temple.
Olek lashed out with one of his massive arms, which clipped the camera beside him, sending it straight to the ground. The bushes shuffled one more time, and then the pig, (or moose, or whatever it was) could be heard trailing away, breaking into a trot.
Olek brought the camera right up to his face, and aggressively clicked around the viewfinder’s touch screen. “Nie! Nie!” He slapped the device, as if he could rewind it to the moment before the opportunity was lost.
He waved his arms, trying to attract whatever energy had just dissipated, then stepped past the camera to face the bushes. “No kurwa mać!”
Like an angry child, Olek poked his head into the leaves and began batting at them, “Konrad ty pierdol! Ale to spieprzyłeś!”
Konrad’s eyes turned wide and quivering, he tried to withdraw into some reality where the take had not been ruined. Olek approached him with a slung back hand, ready to release some retributive slap. But after a tense moment, the only release was a torrent of spit on Kon’s face as Olek yelled and yelled and yelled.
Still sitting, I inched away on the log, afraid of what the director might do next. Even the rest of the crew took a few steps back.
As quickly as the tantrum started, Olek exhaled and dismissed Konrad, clearly unable to bear another glance.
Konrad snuck away, pretending to fiddle with the knobs on his mixer. Everyone looked at each other, but mostly at the ground. Some ravens cawed in the distance.
I was very glad it wasn't me who messed up.
—
With the afternoon came a powerful silence. You could hear squirrels scampering up trees, and woodpeckers drilling somewhere far, far away. The previously conversational crew, who would swap comments and observations for lively stretches of time, were now replaced by a band of servants who quickly nodded at whatever the director said.
I asked Konrad what exactly Olek had been trying to shoot earlier, and “how did everyone know to record the bushes?” Kon sighed and said that they were just looking for wilderness B roll. Olek had been trying to capture a deer on camera all week.
Without wasting time, the AD filled the silence. Our next shots were a series of POVs meant to simulate Polina running through the woods. The director would be handling the camera.
Trying to compensate for his screw up, Kon made sure we were ready first. We fastened a set of wireless mics directly to the camera, which was then mounted inside a rig that resembled a detached steering wheel. A makeshift Steadicam.
Rolling back the sleeves of his trench coat, Olek lifted the steering wheel and strode through the woods by himself, recording a shaky blur of trees, branches, and gloom. The rest of us huddled behind a monitor, watching the resulting footage, whispering only when necessary.
The cautious silence was definitely a change in tone, but it didn’t bother me. Previously I had felt like the odd one out. The Canadian fish that had slipped into some foreign Euro-Slavic pond. But now it felt like we were all in this together, we were all waiting for this manic director to blow off steam by galloping through the trees.
The footage didn’t look great (in my opinion). It was a glorified go-pro shot with a bad frame rate. The sound wasn’t much better. Kon and I both exchanged wide eyes listening to Olek’s grunts and groans as he trampled over the forest floor.
“Polish A24 huh?” I whispered in between takes.
“Maybe not this part,” Konrad shrugged, trying to play it off ... “we’ll fix it in post.”
It took about an hour of Olek trying to get some fern branches to ‘brush the lens in just the right way’ but eventually the plants seemed to oblige. He returned triumphant, lifting the camera above his head (as if it weighed nothing). Then he cleared the blonde strands clinging to the sweaty sides of his face, revealing a wicked smile.
“Okej. Running shot done. Now our final location.”
Olek gave the AD a high five and the spirits of the crew lifted slightly. Even I was starting to feel a sliver of cheer. Final location? Already? Does that mean we’re almost done?
“No more mistakes,” Olek pointed at Konrad, handing the camera away to some crew.
Kon said nothing.
—
Of course, getting to our final spot wasn’t so easy. The last shot required us to march much deeper into the forest, which reignited all the paranoia I was trying to rid myself of.
The pine trees grew taller and darker. The bird calls became deeper and raspier.
To ease my mind, I sidled right next to the AD at the front, to watch how he was navigating our misfit convoy. He smiled and showed me a pocket-sized GPS. It had a bright screen depicting a flag icon which we were nearing labelled ‘wieża.’
I asked him what it meant, and he just pointed ahead and said: ”Very soon.”
Despite the manifold branches and shadowy canopy, I could see a thin strip of metal gleam in the trees. In a few minutes we were approaching some long-abandoned radio tower that sat deep in the wilderness. This was the wieża.
Why was it built so far from civilization? As we climbed up the bramble-filled incline, I could make out a dwelling at its base and realized this must have been some outpost. A weather monitoring station?
The trees opened up and I could see we were in the midst of a relic. A two floored cabin that had faced the ravages of time and lost.
On its left side, the walls were built into the legs of the iron tower, which were now completely covered in vines and guarding a nest of abandoned firewood. The rest of the cabin was log-built, which gave it a pioneer feel, except the whole thing was caked in a bed of moss. Like it had sprouted out of the ground. I tried to look in, but the windows were completely boarded up (and also covered in more moss).
It had to be the most overgrown thing I’d ever seen.
“We think it used to be some kind of forest ranger outpost,” Konrad said. “But it has long been abandoned. Pretty sweet location huh?”
When we reached its vicinity, I pressed a finger into the cabin's exterior and felt the moss travel past my knuckles. It was remarkable that something so sturdy was abandoned like this. I would guess up to four people could have stayed here, living off camp supplies. How long was it used for?
“We must get coverage.” Olek announced, gesturing vaguely at the scenery. “Camera and sound. I want to capture it all.”
The crew got to work, opening all the carrying cases. I whispered to Kon. “So are we like shooting a scene or … ?”
“No. Not really,” Konrad turned on his mixer, and started playing with the levels. “Environmental shots, we’re just recording the feel of this place.”
Recording the feel? It sounded a bit vague, but I shrugged. I wasn’t about to question the experimental process of our genius director.
—
Unlike the running POVs which were shot rather quickly, Olek allowed ample time for the cabin’s cinematography. The DP alternated lenses and tripod heights until he found the perfect frames that evoked the ominous allure of this place.
It felt more like we were making art.
Konrad and I circumnavigated the house, calling for silence when we needed it. Our mics picked up the buzzing of local bugs, the faint squeaking of chipmunks and even a couple of owls which must’ve prematurely woken up.
I didn’t know if I wanted to admit it, but it was actually kind of fun.
On ninety nine percent of sets you record the same dialogue for hours. You’re competing with plane sounds and traffic sirens. You’ve got bitchy actors, entitled crew, indecisive directors, and rushed schedules that sap all the magic out of filmmaking. But here, in the middle of the woods, Me and Konrad just spent five minutes recording the rich, textural creak of an ancient cabin door. Olek was giving Kon the dead eye, but our recordings were still fully approved.
After an hour of capturing the surroundings, the AD called for a break.
The team turned to discussing how to shoot the interior, which was a technical conversation (all in Polish), so I focused on readying our gear.
As far as I knew, no one had brought any mobile lighting kits, so I wasn’t sure how they actually planned to shoot inside. We would have to spend an hour scouring mulch off glass for any natural light. And I wasn’t signing up for that job.
As if reading my mind, the AD approached me with an encouraging smile. He was clearly going to ask me to do something stupid. I took my time opening the package of fresh batteries, lined up the negative and positive charges in my mic, twice to be sure.
“Hello Anna, thank you so much for coming out today.”
“No problem. Give me a second.”
I did the same thing with my other microphone, double checking everything. If he was going to waste my time, I would waste his.
“How would you like to be in this film?”
I paused. “Be in this film? What do you mean?”
“Do you want to be actress?”
Without even intending to, my jaw dropped a little. I was not expecting this.
“No. Sorry. I don’t want to be an actress.”
The AD didn’t push it any further. He went back to the circle of crew and spoke with Olek. The director said some things, pulled Konrad aside, and then Konrad walked over to me.
Before he could open his mouth, I raised my hand. “Um, I’m not acting in this movie.”
“Who said anything about acting?” Konrad smiled, laughed a small laugh. “No no, nobody wants you to act. There’s just one particular shot they want to get. You see, technically speaking, this cabin is meant to be the birthplace of Północnica.”
“Pół—You mean Polina’s character?”
“Yeah. We’re getting shots of her home here as a flashback element. But Olek thinks it would be good to also get the back of the character’s head and profile, as she looks through her old house.”
Is that what we’ve been shooting? Some experimental flashback? “So, why was Polina wrapped earlier then?”
“It was an oversight. Now Olek thinks adding a Polina stand-in would be clutch.”
“Well, I’m sorry. I don’t want to be a stand in.” I looked at the mossy cabin, at the gaping black hole of the half open door. “Can’t Olek like … shoot Polina on a green screen?”
“No, no, come on, Anna, Olek doesn’t do that. He’s all practical. You have the same length of black hair. You’re about the same height. It’s just for one shot.”
“No Kon. I don’t want to do it.”
“You can think of it as an apology for getting you wrapped up in this. Olek will give you a day rate for acting.”
“What?”
“And I’ll give you half my day’s wage on top of that. Compensation for leaving you in that tree.”
“What the hell. Why?”
Konrad lowered his voice and brought his hands into a small prayer. “Please. I want this film to be a success. I want to be hired by these guys again. I’ve kept my word haven’t I?”
“What word?”
“That I’d act as a shield. Prevent you from doing anything uncomfortable.”
“Kon. This is making me feel uncomfortable.”
“But it’s the last thing! After this we’re done! We’ll go straight back to the car.”
I looked over the rest of the crew. The DP was waving his arms, explaining something to Olek who was nodding with minimal effort. Then Olek turned and looked directly at me. His gray eyes shimmered with focus that prevented mine from leaving. A hawk spying a mouse.
I did a full one eighty and faced the cabin. Konrad came over, hands still pleading, voice still a whisper. “I’ll even pay for your gas! For here and back—”
“—Listen Kon. Whatever pickup shot this is. It's the last thing I’m doing. Then we’re leaving.”
“So … is that a yes?”
“Get the AD to announce I am leaving right after this. You’re taking me straight back to my car.”
“Sure. Yeah I can do that.”
“And tell Olek I’m only doing one take.”
Konrad scratched the back of his neck; he looked over at the director. “Only one? But what if we need—”
“—I’m only doing one. That’s it. One and I’m out. If we need another that's your problem, you deal with Olek.”
“Okay. Okay, sure that’s fine. I’ll figure it out. Thank you Anna. Thank you so much.”
He gave me a hug. I stayed facing the cabin.
—
The makeup artist combed and sprayed my hair to match the wavy raggedness of Polina’s. She wasn’t very talkative but did mention I had pretty hair—naturally silky, and that it was easy to manipulate. Very easy to manipulate.
The AD had announced that this was going to be my last shot, just as Kon promised, and that I would be escorted as soon as we were done. It also meant my makeup artist had to triple check her work with a dozen brushes and wedges.
According to her, I looked “fabularna” (which must’ve meant “fable-like”). I responded with probably the meekest smile in my life.
Although shredded at the skirt, the upper half of Polina’s dress was still fully intact, and so I was allowed to change into it behind the cabin. No one came to supervise.
As I left, I could hear the echoes of the crew arguing. Olek was criticizing Konrad again over something. I ignored it.
For the first time since picking up Kon this morning, I was completely by myself. I took a moment to assess the whole situation.
This was it. Just me, by myself. In the middle of the woods with a bunch of strangers and a single friend from film school who gaffed my fourth year short. He was an alright gaffer, I guess.
Like honestly, I trust Konrad and think he’s a decent guy. He helped me land some of my first gigs out of film school. But those gigs were always weird.
He’d always be doing sound on music videos between half a dozen heavy metal bands I’d never heard of. All of them paid in cash. There was always a DP who would smoke weed in-between takes, or band members who always arrived late. I’ll never forget the day we wasted a whole afternoon on an insert of live snake as it slithered across sound speakers, our film gear, and then all the way into a kitchen cupboard. It was not a planned shot.
But despite the bullshit, I always did get paid. At a crucial point in my life too. I always felt like I owed Kon for that. It was a legitimate steppingstone for me.
Breathe. You’ve got this.
I stripped down to basically my underwear—relinquishing the cover and warmth of my trusty jeans, and oversized hoodie.
Christ it is cold. This dress is damp as hell.
I put my jeans back on. They’re only shooting from the waist up anyway. Considering the sudden windchill, it was something like two degrees outside.
Just five minutes of standing in the cold. You’ve had worse. Pretend you’re fine.
Pretending is what I’m good at.
I walked back over, holding a bundle of my previous clothes. The camera was set up, pointing into the open maw of the cabin.
The AD stood by the door, acting as a proxy for where I would be standing. “You’re still wearing your pants,” he said.
“Is that a problem?” I pointed to my waist and raised my finger until it reached my disinterested face. “I thought this was a medium.”
There was some muttering behind the camera. Olek seemed upset, but Konrad’s voice won out. “That’s fine, we can make that work right? It’s only one shot.”
Olek stepped out from behind the crew, looking unimpressed with the world at large. He waved his hand dismissively at the AD. He clearly didn’t care about my pants. Good.
“Alright, so you want me to open this door and stare into the cabin, right?” I stood in front of the cabin and gripped the handle. The handle was slimy with moss, and very cold from the sudden windiness around us. The hinges on the door itself were remarkably intact, so despite some creaky resistance, I managed to push it shut without much hassle. Then, flexing my arm a little, I pulled and opened the door again, pretending to look inside and recognize my beloved old home.
My beloved—completely pitch black—old home.
“Like this? Does that work?” I will give them this one take, and I will do it well—so everything is firmly over and done with.
The wind was causing my hair to whip back and forth, I calmly adjusted it back in place. “Any changes or can we just slate this already?”
The camera raised slightly, and Konrad found a new spot for his boom over my head.
“Another rehearsal,” Olek said. “Go again.”
I carefully returned the door to its closed position, and then went back to my starting mark on the ground. I should have told Konrad: max two rehearsals. For all I knew, Olek was going to get me to rehearse this over and over, and secretly record a dozen takes. It was the oldest trick in the book.
Whatever, give him the rehearsals.
Again, I flexed my right arm, lifted the handle, and pulled with that slight trepidation I’ve seen all actors do as they enter any place of plot significance.
Oooh what could be inside? Oh my gosh, it looks like the actor is realizing something! I stiffened my shoulder and then craned my neck inside.
And then I did in fact realize something. Why is the wind so strong?
It felt like a geyser of air was slowly blowing harder and harder.
I turned around to adjust, to brace myself against the door, when suddenly a blast of air thrust me forward.
My hands barely broke my fall.
Before I could make a sound—before I could even look up—SLAM!
The door had sealed me inside.
All light had vanished.
I quickly got up, ignoring the pain in my arms and yelled toward the door. “Hey! Hello! HELLO!”
The wind howled against the cabin.
I moved forward and found the door by the handle. I tried to push, but it felt like there was a wall on the other side. I couldn’t even budge it a little.
“Hello! Can you open up? Hello?!”
I pushed with my arm, my foot, and my back. Then I banged my fists right above the handle.
Goddamnit. Can they not hear me? Why is the door jammed?
I took deep breaths, my paranoia spilled out. Butterflies tickled my stomach and flew into my head. My heart bounced between my lungs. I pivoted on the ancient wooden floor, feeling dirt twist beneath my sneakers.
Don’t panic. There’s just a gale outside. They must all be disoriented. Although it had no bars, my phone still made a decent flashlight.
I lit up a floor covered with twigs and dirt. There was a cot on the far side, next to some broken shelves and a cluttered table. A couple plastic coolers lay all over the floor.
I looked around for another door on the opposite side of the cabin. Please tell me I overlooked one. There’s gotta be one there!
Of course there was none.
Then I discovered a ladder which led up to the tiny attic floor. If I was really desperate, I could maybe break through one of the upper windows, and cry for help or something.
But before I could plan my route, the door swung open again. It clipped my already sore leg.
Down on the floor, I reached out to the sudden blast of outdoor light. A large shape was tossed onto me, pinning me to the ground. Judging by the smell of the deodorant: it was Kon.
“Hey! Hold the door!” I shouted.
But the sliver of light vanished faster than I could get up.
“What the hell!” I tossed Konrad off of me, confused and angry at what was going on. I grabbed my phone light off the floor. “Kon, is that you!?”
It was, but he didn’t look to be moving. He was still wearing his large Sennheiser headphones, and he was awkwardly cradling a boom between his arms. I rolled him over onto his back, and that’s when I saw it.
A tear at his throat. A large bloody rip of missing flesh. It was soaked in red.
Fuck. What the fuck. What in god's name is happening.

I - II - III - IV - V
Thank god I didn’t break any bones.
The shrubby softness of the ravine’s slopes had cushioned enough of my fall. I leaned onto one of the slopes and let the earthy coolness soothe my sore back. Although there would be tenderness on my tailbone and left leg, everything still felt intact.
Olek had radioed in that he’d found me. I’d given him my headphones and Zoom recorder, which he was now using to review the quality of the last takes.
“Clean sound,” he nodded with a calm seriousness.
Was it clean though?
I could faintly hear the squealing whines through the cups of my headphones, but Olek gave no reaction as he pressed the cushions closer to his ears.
I wondered if he was intentionally trying to come off as unphased. Was he actually trying to be encouraging of my work? Did the pig squealing actually not bother him?
His entire demeanor felt alien. At times he would meet my eyes, trying to maybe show a glimmer of gratitude, or perhaps sympathy, but it's like he couldn’t get his face to activate the right muscles.
“I’m glad it’s clean.” I croaked out. Or that at least you think so.
After a few minutes of listening, Olek took off the headphones, and offered a massive palm for me to grab. I really didn’t want to leave with him, but I didn’t know what else to do.
I wouldn’t know where to go on my own without getting further lost in the woods. And the last thing I wanted was to get stuck in a worse ravine, dying of thirst, awaiting bears and cougars to eat me. So I grabbed his arm.
“Your work is strong,” he said. Then he handed back my gear.
“Uh … thank you.”
The ease with which Olek knew how to operate my equipment was a little astonishing. I figured he was probably used to playing multiple roles on set (the curse of many indie films), but after he hooked my boom into my mixer without a moment’s hesitation, another thought crossed my mind. Maybe he had been expecting me to use the handheld recorder.
Maybe he had been expecting me to climb up alone in that tree this whole time. Did he somehow know I would be menaced by this ghostly pig?
I stared at his swirling trench coat as he led the way to an exiting slope. Was something supposed to happen to me in that tree?
He briefly turned around and said, “Don't forget to back up the data on that card. We can't lose it.”
Then I realized I was dealing with a guy who only cared about his film. That’s why he sent me up that oak. That’s why he didn’t care about my bruises. He truly only cared about his audio. His video. Just a regular self-absorbed dude.
Stupid as it sounds—that felt relieving. I didn’t want to focus on paranormal, conspiratorial thinking. I just wanted to get out of here.
—
With no real option, I followed Olek, limping slightly, just two steps behind. It felt very weird to come back like an obedient sheep, like a patient returned to her psych ward, but what was I supposed to do? Keep shambling through the woods? Pray that I somehow stumbled back to my car?
Within minutes we were back at the meadow, showing just how little I had actually run.
As soon as we broke through the forest, Konrad sprinted over, clasping both his palms on my shoulders. "Oh my god Anna! What happened?"
I appreciated that he had run up. The rest of the crew were still across the meadow, observing distantly, fiddling with tripods and bounce boards.
I cleared my throat and rubbed my aching left knee. “I fell into a ditch Kon. Olek got me out.”
Perhaps sensing I needed time alone with the only proper English speaker—Olek dismissed Konrad and continued to the others.
Konrad said something in Polish, but then immediately turned to me. “Are you injured? Are you like… okay?”
My limbs were sore but that wasn’t the main problem. “I’m okay, but … no, not really, I'm not okay. I don't feel comfortable right now about any of this.” I gestured at the crew, the woods, the gray clouds and turned to whispering. “I can’t be here. Something fucked is going on.”
“What do you mean?”
I didn’t really know where to start. I sort of tossed my arms, grasping for the easiest explanation, and so I pointed to the tree. “I heard some demonic sounds in my headphones when I was up there.”
Konrad glanced back at the oak in the meadow's center.
“And then when I looked down, Polina was gone. Only her shredded clothes were left.”
Konrad took a pause. "Well … that’s because Polina's wrapped. We finished her scene, so she left."
“Yes but … ” I emphasized the strangeness. “She left so abruptly, I didn’t even see her leave.”
“Well … you were up in the tree Anna, I don’t think you would be able to see her leave.”
I definitely thought I would have, but I let it go. “Well the demonic thing I heard, it sounded like an animal. It attacked Polina.”
“Attacked her?”
“Attacked, and then, well … it ate her.”
“Ate her?”
I held on to the sides of my head. My mixer was still dangling from my neck on a lanyard. “Yes, ate her! There was a slurping and crunching of some fucking animal that I recorded on my mixer. It sounded like Polina was being mauled.”
I placed my headphones on Konrad’s head and played the last sound file I recorded.
With the volume turned high, I could make out the shrieks quite vividly.
Kon seemed put off but kept listening to it. “What? You recorded this? Is the file corrupted or—?”
“—No. Even the director signed off on this! He listened and gave approval!” As I said the words, I realized how fucked that was. Olek had literally listened to this file in the ravine and said: ‘clean sound.’
Konrad looked skeptical. “Are you sure you didn't misunderstand him? I know Olek's English—”
“No! I understood him perfectly fine. That's the recording he wanted. It was some kind of boar, and it was attacking Polina.”
Kon held onto the headphones intently and nodded. “Are you sure it's not just some weird artifacting? Is the SD card malfunctioning or—”
“—The SD card is totally unused.”
“Right.” He handed the headphones back. “I mean, that doesn’t mean it can’t glitch.”
I crossed my arms. I’ve never heard of a new card glitching.
“Also, I was with the crew,” Kon pointed over his shoulder. “We were watching Polina and the tree the whole time. I didn’t see any animal, boar, or anything.”
I pointed at the pile of rags still resting by the tree "then what about all the blood on her clothes? How did they get shredded?”
"Well, I mean we're shooting a horror, Anna. That was all makeup and—."
"—I didn't see any makeup team come over!"
"That's cause you were up in the—”
“—DON’T SAY I WAS UP IN THE TREE!”
I yelled and could feel myself lose a bit of control. Olek and some of the crew glanced back from across the field. I ignored them.
“Kon, listen. Something rammed that tree and knocked me down. That’s what made me run.”
He looked at me but said nothing.
“There was this terrible pig shrieking in my headphones the whole time, and I swear I saw a big black boar run toward me for a second. That’s why I ran.”
Hands raised, Kon made eye contact with me and nodded with as much politeness as I had ever seen him muster. “Listen Anna, I’m not discounting whatever it is that you saw. Or heard. I totally respect that. Clearly something scared you. I feel you.”
“No. Kon you’re not listening to me. Something fucked is going on. I don’t know what it is, but I want nothing to do with it.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean I'm not working on this set any more. There’s something wrong. I’m going home."
I started marching forward, but Konrad moved in front of me. "Woah woah, Anna, hold up. I get it. I would feel the same way. But come on, you can't go home. We still have a couple more shots to get.”
I handed him the microphone. "Then you can record the rest yourself. Go ahead, you mix and boom.”
“If you leave, how am I supposed to get home? They don't have room in their car."
"Then ride across their laps."
"Anna please." Konrad’s voice got quiet. "I don't want to be embarrassed in front of these guys. They make amazing horror movies, like Polish A24 level shit. My previous boom op fell through. I just need you to at least stick it through the rest of the day."
I glanced over at the mobilizing crew; they had packed everything back into carrying cases. They almost looked like a normal film team, like any typical heads of department I’d seen on set of District PD or Untold Stories of the ER, but they were wearing so much black, so much leather and had so many piercings. Their entire vibe felt off.
"I agree that there is a … creepiness,” Konrad lowered his voice further. “Olek is able to cultivate an amazing atmosphere, and I think it's why his films are always so strong. He brings a realness. A sort of raw element that’s hard to explain. And obviously that can result in some eerie coincidences on set, for sure. But remember: it is just a movie. This is just a regular forest ... we’re just here to do a job.”
It feels like something is legit haunted, I wanted to say, but I held my tongue.
"Just stay a few more hours. You can stick by me for the rest of the shoot. If something requires weird booming, I’ll do it. If there's another tree situation, I'll volunteer. Whatever it takes to make you comfortable. Please. For me.”
The emotion was genuine, and despite the urgency in his voice, Konrad had let go of my arm, to show that he wasn’t trying to impede me or something. But I was still annoyed. Furious in fact, that he had tricked me into working on this janky set with a flippant director.
I considered just leaving, just trying to head back towards the parking lot. But the thing was, I didn’t know how to navigate back. I actually needed Konrad to help return to the car.
I sighed, groaned, and rubbed my left knee. “Goddamnit Kon. Why’d you mix me up in this? I told you I only work big shows now.”
“I know, but …” He put his hands in his pockets, looked at the ground. “This could become a big deal for me. I told Olek I would get a sound assistant. I didn't think this would be such an ordeal. Please … ”
The rest of the crew had now gathered all their stuff and were walking along the perimeter of the meadow, probably moving to the next location. There was the faint outline of the sun behind the overcast sky. It had risen ever so slightly, brightening the world just a little bit.
"Oh my god. Fuck. Fine. Fuck you.” I pointed directly at Kon’s skittish face. “But you listen to me: If anything else weird happens, and I mean anything off in the slightest, promise that you won't question me, and that you'll take me straight back to the car. I don’t want any second-guessing or hesitation, okay?"
"Yes. Of course.” Konrad held out his arm. “I swear on my mother’s grave.”
I stared at his pupils. He looked earnest, and eager to maintain eye contact. Then I looked at his open palm. The fingers were slowly stretching towards me, seeking confirmation.
I handed him the boom pole. “The next shot is yours. I’m not booming.”
“Sure. That’s no problem.”
“And I want to know exactly how many shots are left.”
“We can ask the AD.”
“And I want you to admit right now: that this is weird. That it's not cool you’ve roped me into this. And that you’re a fucking idiot.”
“Yes. Yes, you’re right. I’m wrong. I’m a fucking idiot.”
I hated this. I did not feel comfortable. But I needed a guide out. I needed Kon to be agreeable. Like with so many other annoying things about the film industry (the hours, the nepotism, the sexism, to name a few), there comes a time when you just have to grin and bear it. Pretend it doesn’t bother you and get through it.
I rubbed my knee one last time, and then ignored the soreness as I continued to walk. Pretending is what I do best.
—
We set up for lunch by some logs near the meadow’s edge, using gear cases as tables. Konrad had advocated that we could use a reset (which I appreciated), and thankfully no one was opposed to an early snack. Most of the crew members had skipped their breakfast.
Over sandwiches, I focused on relaxing. I wanted this to be just a normal set. I didn’t want to be in panic mode the whole time.
So, I bit the bullet and apologized to the crew. I didn’t want them judging me for the rest of the day. I stood up in the middle of their eating circle and said I was sorry. In response, The AD came and patted my back, telling me not to worry, and that apologies were unnecessary.
Everyone came to understand that I had had a panic attack, but now I was okay. They were respecting that. Everyone acknowledged that the woods were dark, and it is of course very easy to see things that aren’t there. It is reasonable to get afraid.
“In the forest,” the makeup artist said, “it is natural to be scared.”
“Yes, it is very natural,” I said. Then I sat back into my own corner.
My sandwich was packed with lentils just like Konrad had said. In fact, they had made two huge sandwiches just for me, which I was grateful for because my body was craving energy.
Even though I wanted to inhale the food, I paced myself. I ate as normally as I would on any other occasion, because the more I acted like everything was fine, the more mentally everything felt fine.
I made small talk.
I stretched my legs.
I asked Kon what this movie was even about.
“Oh, it's a Polish folklore film.” He spoke in-between bites. "It's about scary things in the forest."
“Like scary things … attacking Polina?”
“Sort of. Polina plays Północnica. ‘Lady Midnight’”
“Lady Midnight?”
“Yes. She is a ghost in Polish folklore. A wraith who will try and possess your body.”
I chewed and wondered how Polina’s cowering and wailing was supposed to make her a possessive wraith. “She seems more like a victim to me.”
“That’s because she is.” Kon wiped his mouth. “This film is her origin story. Before she became Północnica, she was just a regular woman. A regular villager who made a bad deal with the devil, who then cursed her to wander the earth as a wraith.”
I nodded as if this was common knowledge. “You’ve read the script?”
“No. I know it from childhood. My mom used to warn me not to wander into the backcountry by myself, or else I risk meeting Lady Midnight. Who would then kidnap me, usurp my body, etcetera etcetera.”
“Right.” I grabbed another napkin and looked at the rest of the crew. They were all eating two huge sandwiches, if not more. I could smell the tangy waft of horseradish, mustard, and spicy sausage. Olek looked like he was annoyed that we were on break.
“And so … why did this crew fly all the way here?” I whispered. “Why shoot some Polish folk tale—in Vancouver?”
"Oh, I think the producer is half-Canadian. And he was able to secure some funding here. Something like that."
What funding? I wanted to say. I've seen high school films with higher budgets. But I chewed my lentils and stayed quiet.
We tossed all our crumpled wax paper and empty water bottles into a portable trash. At least they got that much right.
After enjoying a fruit bar as a dessert, I could actually feel myself winding down. My heart was no longer beating in my throat, the butterflies in my stomach were gone.
Relishing the feeling, I unwrapped a stick of gum—and then came the rustling.
Everyone paused and looked towards a set of bushes.
It was hard to articulate why, but even through the leaves, I could tell it was something walking on hooves. There was something padded about the movement. And maybe it was just me, but I could swear I heard a soft, ineffable oinking in the distance.
The crew sprang into action, locking the camera to its tripod within seconds. Konrad jumped up and grabbed my boom with a look that said: I’ll take this one.
Everyone aimed in the direction of the foliage, trying to capture whatever lurked. Olek glued himself to the viewfinder, zooming and adjusting the camera all himself. Konrad fully extended the boom and swung it around, trying to capture the sounds of whatever approached.
At the base of the bushes, I could see Polina’s gray rags lying splayed on the ground—was that intentional? Were the rags supposed to lure something?
For a moment, everyone went still. It felt like the entire wilderness had gone silent. A quiet wind lightly teased some branches. Olek turned both of his palms upward, as if he was holding something, or receiving something. Summoning something?
There came a growl, and everyone lowered their heads, looking for the source. Konrad got a little too animated and swung his boom pole right at Olek's temple.
Olek lashed out with one of his massive arms, which clipped the camera beside him, sending it straight to the ground. The bushes shuffled one more time, and then the pig, (or moose, or whatever it was) could be heard trailing away, breaking into a trot.
Olek brought the camera right up to his face, and aggressively clicked around the viewfinder’s touch screen. “Nie! Nie!” He slapped the device, as if he could rewind it to the moment before the opportunity was lost.
He waved his arms, trying to attract whatever energy had just dissipated, then stepped past the camera to face the bushes. “No kurwa mać!”
Like an angry child, Olek poked his head into the leaves and began batting at them, “Konrad ty pierdol! Ale to spieprzyłeś!”
Konrad’s eyes turned wide and quivering, he tried to withdraw into some reality where the take had not been ruined. Olek approached him with a slung back hand, ready to release some retributive slap. But after a tense moment, the only release was a torrent of spit on Kon’s face as Olek yelled and yelled and yelled.
Still sitting, I inched away on the log, afraid of what the director might do next. Even the rest of the crew took a few steps back.
As quickly as the tantrum started, Olek exhaled and dismissed Konrad, clearly unable to bear another glance.
Konrad snuck away, pretending to fiddle with the knobs on his mixer. Everyone looked at each other, but mostly at the ground. Some ravens cawed in the distance.
I was very glad it wasn't me who messed up.
—
With the afternoon came a powerful silence. You could hear squirrels scampering up trees, and woodpeckers drilling somewhere far, far away. The previously conversational crew, who would swap comments and observations for lively stretches of time, were now replaced by a band of servants who quickly nodded at whatever the director said.
I asked Konrad what exactly Olek had been trying to shoot earlier, and “how did everyone know to record the bushes?” Kon sighed and said that they were just looking for wilderness B roll. Olek had been trying to capture a deer on camera all week.
Without wasting time, the AD filled the silence. Our next shots were a series of POVs meant to simulate Polina running through the woods. The director would be handling the camera.
Trying to compensate for his screw up, Kon made sure we were ready first. We fastened a set of wireless mics directly to the camera, which was then mounted inside a rig that resembled a detached steering wheel. A makeshift Steadicam.
Rolling back the sleeves of his trench coat, Olek lifted the steering wheel and strode through the woods by himself, recording a shaky blur of trees, branches, and gloom. The rest of us huddled behind a monitor, watching the resulting footage, whispering only when necessary.
The cautious silence was definitely a change in tone, but it didn’t bother me. Previously I had felt like the odd one out. The Canadian fish that had slipped into some foreign Euro-Slavic pond. But now it felt like we were all in this together, we were all waiting for this manic director to blow off steam by galloping through the trees.
The footage didn’t look great (in my opinion). It was a glorified go-pro shot with a bad frame rate. The sound wasn’t much better. Kon and I both exchanged wide eyes listening to Olek’s grunts and groans as he trampled over the forest floor.
“Polish A24 huh?” I whispered in between takes.
“Maybe not this part,” Konrad shrugged, trying to play it off ... “we’ll fix it in post.”
It took about an hour of Olek trying to get some fern branches to ‘brush the lens in just the right way’ but eventually the plants seemed to oblige. He returned triumphant, lifting the camera above his head (as if it weighed nothing). Then he cleared the blonde strands clinging to the sweaty sides of his face, revealing a wicked smile.
“Okej. Running shot done. Now our final location.”
Olek gave the AD a high five and the spirits of the crew lifted slightly. Even I was starting to feel a sliver of cheer. Final location? Already? Does that mean we’re almost done?
“No more mistakes,” Olek pointed at Konrad, handing the camera away to some crew.
Kon said nothing.
—
Of course, getting to our final spot wasn’t so easy. The last shot required us to march much deeper into the forest, which reignited all the paranoia I was trying to rid myself of.
The pine trees grew taller and darker. The bird calls became deeper and raspier.
To ease my mind, I sidled right next to the AD at the front, to watch how he was navigating our misfit convoy. He smiled and showed me a pocket-sized GPS. It had a bright screen depicting a flag icon which we were nearing labelled ‘wieża.’
I asked him what it meant, and he just pointed ahead and said: ”Very soon.”
Despite the manifold branches and shadowy canopy, I could see a thin strip of metal gleam in the trees. In a few minutes we were approaching some long-abandoned radio tower that sat deep in the wilderness. This was the wieża.
Why was it built so far from civilization? As we climbed up the bramble-filled incline, I could make out a dwelling at its base and realized this must have been some outpost. A weather monitoring station?
The trees opened up and I could see we were in the midst of a relic. A two floored cabin that had faced the ravages of time and lost.
On its left side, the walls were built into the legs of the iron tower, which were now completely covered in vines and guarding a nest of abandoned firewood. The rest of the cabin was log-built, which gave it a pioneer feel, except the whole thing was caked in a bed of moss. Like it had sprouted out of the ground. I tried to look in, but the windows were completely boarded up (and also covered in more moss).
It had to be the most overgrown thing I’d ever seen.
“We think it used to be some kind of forest ranger outpost,” Konrad said. “But it has long been abandoned. Pretty sweet location huh?”
When we reached its vicinity, I pressed a finger into the cabin's exterior and felt the moss travel past my knuckles. It was remarkable that something so sturdy was abandoned like this. I would guess up to four people could have stayed here, living off camp supplies. How long was it used for?
“We must get coverage.” Olek announced, gesturing vaguely at the scenery. “Camera and sound. I want to capture it all.”
The crew got to work, opening all the carrying cases. I whispered to Kon. “So are we like shooting a scene or … ?”
“No. Not really,” Konrad turned on his mixer, and started playing with the levels. “Environmental shots, we’re just recording the feel of this place.”
Recording the feel? It sounded a bit vague, but I shrugged. I wasn’t about to question the experimental process of our genius director.
—
Unlike the running POVs which were shot rather quickly, Olek allowed ample time for the cabin’s cinematography. The DP alternated lenses and tripod heights until he found the perfect frames that evoked the ominous allure of this place.
It felt more like we were making art.
Konrad and I circumnavigated the house, calling for silence when we needed it. Our mics picked up the buzzing of local bugs, the faint squeaking of chipmunks and even a couple of owls which must’ve prematurely woken up.
I didn’t know if I wanted to admit it, but it was actually kind of fun.
On ninety nine percent of sets you record the same dialogue for hours. You’re competing with plane sounds and traffic sirens. You’ve got bitchy actors, entitled crew, indecisive directors, and rushed schedules that sap all the magic out of filmmaking. But here, in the middle of the woods, Me and Konrad just spent five minutes recording the rich, textural creak of an ancient cabin door. Olek was giving Kon the dead eye, but our recordings were still fully approved.
After an hour of capturing the surroundings, the AD called for a break.
The team turned to discussing how to shoot the interior, which was a technical conversation (all in Polish), so I focused on readying our gear.
As far as I knew, no one had brought any mobile lighting kits, so I wasn’t sure how they actually planned to shoot inside. We would have to spend an hour scouring mulch off glass for any natural light. And I wasn’t signing up for that job.
As if reading my mind, the AD approached me with an encouraging smile. He was clearly going to ask me to do something stupid. I took my time opening the package of fresh batteries, lined up the negative and positive charges in my mic, twice to be sure.
“Hello Anna, thank you so much for coming out today.”
“No problem. Give me a second.”
I did the same thing with my other microphone, double checking everything. If he was going to waste my time, I would waste his.
“How would you like to be in this film?”
I paused. “Be in this film? What do you mean?”
“Do you want to be actress?”
Without even intending to, my jaw dropped a little. I was not expecting this.
“No. Sorry. I don’t want to be an actress.”
The AD didn’t push it any further. He went back to the circle of crew and spoke with Olek. The director said some things, pulled Konrad aside, and then Konrad walked over to me.
Before he could open his mouth, I raised my hand. “Um, I’m not acting in this movie.”
“Who said anything about acting?” Konrad smiled, laughed a small laugh. “No no, nobody wants you to act. There’s just one particular shot they want to get. You see, technically speaking, this cabin is meant to be the birthplace of Północnica.”
“Pół—You mean Polina’s character?”
“Yeah. We’re getting shots of her home here as a flashback element. But Olek thinks it would be good to also get the back of the character’s head and profile, as she looks through her old house.”
Is that what we’ve been shooting? Some experimental flashback? “So, why was Polina wrapped earlier then?”
“It was an oversight. Now Olek thinks adding a Polina stand-in would be clutch.”
“Well, I’m sorry. I don’t want to be a stand in.” I looked at the mossy cabin, at the gaping black hole of the half open door. “Can’t Olek like … shoot Polina on a green screen?”
“No, no, come on, Anna, Olek doesn’t do that. He’s all practical. You have the same length of black hair. You’re about the same height. It’s just for one shot.”
“No Kon. I don’t want to do it.”
“You can think of it as an apology for getting you wrapped up in this. Olek will give you a day rate for acting.”
“What?”
“And I’ll give you half my day’s wage on top of that. Compensation for leaving you in that tree.”
“What the hell. Why?”
Konrad lowered his voice and brought his hands into a small prayer. “Please. I want this film to be a success. I want to be hired by these guys again. I’ve kept my word haven’t I?”
“What word?”
“That I’d act as a shield. Prevent you from doing anything uncomfortable.”
“Kon. This is making me feel uncomfortable.”
“But it’s the last thing! After this we’re done! We’ll go straight back to the car.”
I looked over the rest of the crew. The DP was waving his arms, explaining something to Olek who was nodding with minimal effort. Then Olek turned and looked directly at me. His gray eyes shimmered with focus that prevented mine from leaving. A hawk spying a mouse.
I did a full one eighty and faced the cabin. Konrad came over, hands still pleading, voice still a whisper. “I’ll even pay for your gas! For here and back—”
“—Listen Kon. Whatever pickup shot this is. It's the last thing I’m doing. Then we’re leaving.”
“So … is that a yes?”
“Get the AD to announce I am leaving right after this. You’re taking me straight back to my car.”
“Sure. Yeah I can do that.”
“And tell Olek I’m only doing one take.”
Konrad scratched the back of his neck; he looked over at the director. “Only one? But what if we need—”
“—I’m only doing one. That’s it. One and I’m out. If we need another that's your problem, you deal with Olek.”
“Okay. Okay, sure that’s fine. I’ll figure it out. Thank you Anna. Thank you so much.”
He gave me a hug. I stayed facing the cabin.
—
The makeup artist combed and sprayed my hair to match the wavy raggedness of Polina’s. She wasn’t very talkative but did mention I had pretty hair—naturally silky, and that it was easy to manipulate. Very easy to manipulate.
The AD had announced that this was going to be my last shot, just as Kon promised, and that I would be escorted as soon as we were done. It also meant my makeup artist had to triple check her work with a dozen brushes and wedges.
According to her, I looked “fabularna” (which must’ve meant “fable-like”). I responded with probably the meekest smile in my life.
Although shredded at the skirt, the upper half of Polina’s dress was still fully intact, and so I was allowed to change into it behind the cabin. No one came to supervise.
As I left, I could hear the echoes of the crew arguing. Olek was criticizing Konrad again over something. I ignored it.
For the first time since picking up Kon this morning, I was completely by myself. I took a moment to assess the whole situation.
This was it. Just me, by myself. In the middle of the woods with a bunch of strangers and a single friend from film school who gaffed my fourth year short. He was an alright gaffer, I guess.
Like honestly, I trust Konrad and think he’s a decent guy. He helped me land some of my first gigs out of film school. But those gigs were always weird.
He’d always be doing sound on music videos between half a dozen heavy metal bands I’d never heard of. All of them paid in cash. There was always a DP who would smoke weed in-between takes, or band members who always arrived late. I’ll never forget the day we wasted a whole afternoon on an insert of live snake as it slithered across sound speakers, our film gear, and then all the way into a kitchen cupboard. It was not a planned shot.
But despite the bullshit, I always did get paid. At a crucial point in my life too. I always felt like I owed Kon for that. It was a legitimate steppingstone for me.
Breathe. You’ve got this.
I stripped down to basically my underwear—relinquishing the cover and warmth of my trusty jeans, and oversized hoodie.
Christ it is cold. This dress is damp as hell.
I put my jeans back on. They’re only shooting from the waist up anyway. Considering the sudden windchill, it was something like two degrees outside.
Just five minutes of standing in the cold. You’ve had worse. Pretend you’re fine.
Pretending is what I’m good at.
I walked back over, holding a bundle of my previous clothes. The camera was set up, pointing into the open maw of the cabin.
The AD stood by the door, acting as a proxy for where I would be standing. “You’re still wearing your pants,” he said.
“Is that a problem?” I pointed to my waist and raised my finger until it reached my disinterested face. “I thought this was a medium.”
There was some muttering behind the camera. Olek seemed upset, but Konrad’s voice won out. “That’s fine, we can make that work right? It’s only one shot.”
Olek stepped out from behind the crew, looking unimpressed with the world at large. He waved his hand dismissively at the AD. He clearly didn’t care about my pants. Good.
“Alright, so you want me to open this door and stare into the cabin, right?” I stood in front of the cabin and gripped the handle. The handle was slimy with moss, and very cold from the sudden windiness around us. The hinges on the door itself were remarkably intact, so despite some creaky resistance, I managed to push it shut without much hassle. Then, flexing my arm a little, I pulled and opened the door again, pretending to look inside and recognize my beloved old home.
My beloved—completely pitch black—old home.
“Like this? Does that work?” I will give them this one take, and I will do it well—so everything is firmly over and done with.
The wind was causing my hair to whip back and forth, I calmly adjusted it back in place. “Any changes or can we just slate this already?”
The camera raised slightly, and Konrad found a new spot for his boom over my head.
“Another rehearsal,” Olek said. “Go again.”
I carefully returned the door to its closed position, and then went back to my starting mark on the ground. I should have told Konrad: max two rehearsals. For all I knew, Olek was going to get me to rehearse this over and over, and secretly record a dozen takes. It was the oldest trick in the book.
Whatever, give him the rehearsals.
Again, I flexed my right arm, lifted the handle, and pulled with that slight trepidation I’ve seen all actors do as they enter any place of plot significance.
Oooh what could be inside? Oh my gosh, it looks like the actor is realizing something! I stiffened my shoulder and then craned my neck inside.
And then I did in fact realize something. Why is the wind so strong?
It felt like a geyser of air was slowly blowing harder and harder.
I turned around to adjust, to brace myself against the door, when suddenly a blast of air thrust me forward.
My hands barely broke my fall.
Before I could make a sound—before I could even look up—SLAM!
The door had sealed me inside.
All light had vanished.
I quickly got up, ignoring the pain in my arms and yelled toward the door. “Hey! Hello! HELLO!”
The wind howled against the cabin.
I moved forward and found the door by the handle. I tried to push, but it felt like there was a wall on the other side. I couldn’t even budge it a little.
“Hello! Can you open up? Hello?!”
I pushed with my arm, my foot, and my back. Then I banged my fists right above the handle.
Goddamnit. Can they not hear me? Why is the door jammed?
I took deep breaths, my paranoia spilled out. Butterflies tickled my stomach and flew into my head. My heart bounced between my lungs. I pivoted on the ancient wooden floor, feeling dirt twist beneath my sneakers.
Don’t panic. There’s just a gale outside. They must all be disoriented. Although it had no bars, my phone still made a decent flashlight.
I lit up a floor covered with twigs and dirt. There was a cot on the far side, next to some broken shelves and a cluttered table. A couple plastic coolers lay all over the floor.
I looked around for another door on the opposite side of the cabin. Please tell me I overlooked one. There’s gotta be one there!
Of course there was none.
Then I discovered a ladder which led up to the tiny attic floor. If I was really desperate, I could maybe break through one of the upper windows, and cry for help or something.
But before I could plan my route, the door swung open again. It clipped my already sore leg.
Down on the floor, I reached out to the sudden blast of outdoor light. A large shape was tossed onto me, pinning me to the ground. Judging by the smell of the deodorant: it was Kon.
“Hey! Hold the door!” I shouted.
But the sliver of light vanished faster than I could get up.
“What the hell!” I tossed Konrad off of me, confused and angry at what was going on. I grabbed my phone light off the floor. “Kon, is that you!?”
It was, but he didn’t look to be moving. He was still wearing his large Sennheiser headphones, and he was awkwardly cradling a boom between his arms. I rolled him over onto his back, and that’s when I saw it.
A tear at his throat. A large bloody rip of missing flesh. It was soaked in red.
Fuck. What the fuck. What in god's name is happening.

I - II - III - IV - V
Thank god I didn’t break any bones.
The shrubby softness of the ravine’s slopes had cushioned enough of my fall. I leaned onto one of the slopes and let the earthy coolness soothe my sore back. Although there would be tenderness on my tailbone and left leg, everything still felt intact.
Olek had radioed in that he’d found me. I’d given him my headphones and Zoom recorder, which he was now using to review the quality of the last takes.
“Clean sound,” he nodded with a calm seriousness.
Was it clean though?
I could faintly hear the squealing whines through the cups of my headphones, but Olek gave no reaction as he pressed the cushions closer to his ears.
I wondered if he was intentionally trying to come off as unphased. Was he actually trying to be encouraging of my work? Did the pig squealing actually not bother him?
His entire demeanor felt alien. At times he would meet my eyes, trying to maybe show a glimmer of gratitude, or perhaps sympathy, but it's like he couldn’t get his face to activate the right muscles.
“I’m glad it’s clean.” I croaked out. Or that at least you think so.
After a few minutes of listening, Olek took off the headphones, and offered a massive palm for me to grab. I really didn’t want to leave with him, but I didn’t know what else to do.
I wouldn’t know where to go on my own without getting further lost in the woods. And the last thing I wanted was to get stuck in a worse ravine, dying of thirst, awaiting bears and cougars to eat me. So I grabbed his arm.
“Your work is strong,” he said. Then he handed back my gear.
“Uh … thank you.”
The ease with which Olek knew how to operate my equipment was a little astonishing. I figured he was probably used to playing multiple roles on set (the curse of many indie films), but after he hooked my boom into my mixer without a moment’s hesitation, another thought crossed my mind. Maybe he had been expecting me to use the handheld recorder.
Maybe he had been expecting me to climb up alone in that tree this whole time. Did he somehow know I would be menaced by this ghostly pig?
I stared at his swirling trench coat as he led the way to an exiting slope. Was something supposed to happen to me in that tree?
He briefly turned around and said, “Don't forget to back up the data on that card. We can't lose it.”
Then I realized I was dealing with a guy who only cared about his film. That’s why he sent me up that oak. That’s why he didn’t care about my bruises. He truly only cared about his audio. His video. Just a regular self-absorbed dude.
Stupid as it sounds—that felt relieving. I didn’t want to focus on paranormal, conspiratorial thinking. I just wanted to get out of here.
—
With no real option, I followed Olek, limping slightly, just two steps behind. It felt very weird to come back like an obedient sheep, like a patient returned to her psych ward, but what was I supposed to do? Keep shambling through the woods? Pray that I somehow stumbled back to my car?
Within minutes we were back at the meadow, showing just how little I had actually run.
As soon as we broke through the forest, Konrad sprinted over, clasping both his palms on my shoulders. "Oh my god Anna! What happened?"
I appreciated that he had run up. The rest of the crew were still across the meadow, observing distantly, fiddling with tripods and bounce boards.
I cleared my throat and rubbed my aching left knee. “I fell into a ditch Kon. Olek got me out.”
Perhaps sensing I needed time alone with the only proper English speaker—Olek dismissed Konrad and continued to the others.
Konrad said something in Polish, but then immediately turned to me. “Are you injured? Are you like… okay?”
My limbs were sore but that wasn’t the main problem. “I’m okay, but … no, not really, I'm not okay. I don't feel comfortable right now about any of this.” I gestured at the crew, the woods, the gray clouds and turned to whispering. “I can’t be here. Something fucked is going on.”
“What do you mean?”
I didn’t really know where to start. I sort of tossed my arms, grasping for the easiest explanation, and so I pointed to the tree. “I heard some demonic sounds in my headphones when I was up there.”
Konrad glanced back at the oak in the meadow's center.
“And then when I looked down, Polina was gone. Only her shredded clothes were left.”
Konrad took a pause. "Well … that’s because Polina's wrapped. We finished her scene, so she left."
“Yes but … ” I emphasized the strangeness. “She left so abruptly, I didn’t even see her leave.”
“Well … you were up in the tree Anna, I don’t think you would be able to see her leave.”
I definitely thought I would have, but I let it go. “Well the demonic thing I heard, it sounded like an animal. It attacked Polina.”
“Attacked her?”
“Attacked, and then, well … it ate her.”
“Ate her?”
I held on to the sides of my head. My mixer was still dangling from my neck on a lanyard. “Yes, ate her! There was a slurping and crunching of some fucking animal that I recorded on my mixer. It sounded like Polina was being mauled.”
I placed my headphones on Konrad’s head and played the last sound file I recorded.
With the volume turned high, I could make out the shrieks quite vividly.
Kon seemed put off but kept listening to it. “What? You recorded this? Is the file corrupted or—?”
“—No. Even the director signed off on this! He listened and gave approval!” As I said the words, I realized how fucked that was. Olek had literally listened to this file in the ravine and said: ‘clean sound.’
Konrad looked skeptical. “Are you sure you didn't misunderstand him? I know Olek's English—”
“No! I understood him perfectly fine. That's the recording he wanted. It was some kind of boar, and it was attacking Polina.”
Kon held onto the headphones intently and nodded. “Are you sure it's not just some weird artifacting? Is the SD card malfunctioning or—”
“—The SD card is totally unused.”
“Right.” He handed the headphones back. “I mean, that doesn’t mean it can’t glitch.”
I crossed my arms. I’ve never heard of a new card glitching.
“Also, I was with the crew,” Kon pointed over his shoulder. “We were watching Polina and the tree the whole time. I didn’t see any animal, boar, or anything.”
I pointed at the pile of rags still resting by the tree "then what about all the blood on her clothes? How did they get shredded?”
"Well, I mean we're shooting a horror, Anna. That was all makeup and—."
"—I didn't see any makeup team come over!"
"That's cause you were up in the—”
“—DON’T SAY I WAS UP IN THE TREE!”
I yelled and could feel myself lose a bit of control. Olek and some of the crew glanced back from across the field. I ignored them.
“Kon, listen. Something rammed that tree and knocked me down. That’s what made me run.”
He looked at me but said nothing.
“There was this terrible pig shrieking in my headphones the whole time, and I swear I saw a big black boar run toward me for a second. That’s why I ran.”
Hands raised, Kon made eye contact with me and nodded with as much politeness as I had ever seen him muster. “Listen Anna, I’m not discounting whatever it is that you saw. Or heard. I totally respect that. Clearly something scared you. I feel you.”
“No. Kon you’re not listening to me. Something fucked is going on. I don’t know what it is, but I want nothing to do with it.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean I'm not working on this set any more. There’s something wrong. I’m going home."
I started marching forward, but Konrad moved in front of me. "Woah woah, Anna, hold up. I get it. I would feel the same way. But come on, you can't go home. We still have a couple more shots to get.”
I handed him the microphone. "Then you can record the rest yourself. Go ahead, you mix and boom.”
“If you leave, how am I supposed to get home? They don't have room in their car."
"Then ride across their laps."
"Anna please." Konrad’s voice got quiet. "I don't want to be embarrassed in front of these guys. They make amazing horror movies, like Polish A24 level shit. My previous boom op fell through. I just need you to at least stick it through the rest of the day."
I glanced over at the mobilizing crew; they had packed everything back into carrying cases. They almost looked like a normal film team, like any typical heads of department I’d seen on set of District PD or Untold Stories of the ER, but they were wearing so much black, so much leather and had so many piercings. Their entire vibe felt off.
"I agree that there is a … creepiness,” Konrad lowered his voice further. “Olek is able to cultivate an amazing atmosphere, and I think it's why his films are always so strong. He brings a realness. A sort of raw element that’s hard to explain. And obviously that can result in some eerie coincidences on set, for sure. But remember: it is just a movie. This is just a regular forest ... we’re just here to do a job.”
It feels like something is legit haunted, I wanted to say, but I held my tongue.
"Just stay a few more hours. You can stick by me for the rest of the shoot. If something requires weird booming, I’ll do it. If there's another tree situation, I'll volunteer. Whatever it takes to make you comfortable. Please. For me.”
The emotion was genuine, and despite the urgency in his voice, Konrad had let go of my arm, to show that he wasn’t trying to impede me or something. But I was still annoyed. Furious in fact, that he had tricked me into working on this janky set with a flippant director.
I considered just leaving, just trying to head back towards the parking lot. But the thing was, I didn’t know how to navigate back. I actually needed Konrad to help return to the car.
I sighed, groaned, and rubbed my left knee. “Goddamnit Kon. Why’d you mix me up in this? I told you I only work big shows now.”
“I know, but …” He put his hands in his pockets, looked at the ground. “This could become a big deal for me. I told Olek I would get a sound assistant. I didn't think this would be such an ordeal. Please … ”
The rest of the crew had now gathered all their stuff and were walking along the perimeter of the meadow, probably moving to the next location. There was the faint outline of the sun behind the overcast sky. It had risen ever so slightly, brightening the world just a little bit.
"Oh my god. Fuck. Fine. Fuck you.” I pointed directly at Kon’s skittish face. “But you listen to me: If anything else weird happens, and I mean anything off in the slightest, promise that you won't question me, and that you'll take me straight back to the car. I don’t want any second-guessing or hesitation, okay?"
"Yes. Of course.” Konrad held out his arm. “I swear on my mother’s grave.”
I stared at his pupils. He looked earnest, and eager to maintain eye contact. Then I looked at his open palm. The fingers were slowly stretching towards me, seeking confirmation.
I handed him the boom pole. “The next shot is yours. I’m not booming.”
“Sure. That’s no problem.”
“And I want to know exactly how many shots are left.”
“We can ask the AD.”
“And I want you to admit right now: that this is weird. That it's not cool you’ve roped me into this. And that you’re a fucking idiot.”
“Yes. Yes, you’re right. I’m wrong. I’m a fucking idiot.”
I hated this. I did not feel comfortable. But I needed a guide out. I needed Kon to be agreeable. Like with so many other annoying things about the film industry (the hours, the nepotism, the sexism, to name a few), there comes a time when you just have to grin and bear it. Pretend it doesn’t bother you and get through it.
I rubbed my knee one last time, and then ignored the soreness as I continued to walk. Pretending is what I do best.
—
We set up for lunch by some logs near the meadow’s edge, using gear cases as tables. Konrad had advocated that we could use a reset (which I appreciated), and thankfully no one was opposed to an early snack. Most of the crew members had skipped their breakfast.
Over sandwiches, I focused on relaxing. I wanted this to be just a normal set. I didn’t want to be in panic mode the whole time.
So, I bit the bullet and apologized to the crew. I didn’t want them judging me for the rest of the day. I stood up in the middle of their eating circle and said I was sorry. In response, The AD came and patted my back, telling me not to worry, and that apologies were unnecessary.
Everyone came to understand that I had had a panic attack, but now I was okay. They were respecting that. Everyone acknowledged that the woods were dark, and it is of course very easy to see things that aren’t there. It is reasonable to get afraid.
“In the forest,” the makeup artist said, “it is natural to be scared.”
“Yes, it is very natural,” I said. Then I sat back into my own corner.
My sandwich was packed with lentils just like Konrad had said. In fact, they had made two huge sandwiches just for me, which I was grateful for because my body was craving energy.
Even though I wanted to inhale the food, I paced myself. I ate as normally as I would on any other occasion, because the more I acted like everything was fine, the more mentally everything felt fine.
I made small talk.
I stretched my legs.
I asked Kon what this movie was even about.
“Oh, it's a Polish folklore film.” He spoke in-between bites. "It's about scary things in the forest."
“Like scary things … attacking Polina?”
“Sort of. Polina plays Północnica. ‘Lady Midnight’”
“Lady Midnight?”
“Yes. She is a ghost in Polish folklore. A wraith who will try and possess your body.”
I chewed and wondered how Polina’s cowering and wailing was supposed to make her a possessive wraith. “She seems more like a victim to me.”
“That’s because she is.” Kon wiped his mouth. “This film is her origin story. Before she became Północnica, she was just a regular woman. A regular villager who made a bad deal with the devil, who then cursed her to wander the earth as a wraith.”
I nodded as if this was common knowledge. “You’ve read the script?”
“No. I know it from childhood. My mom used to warn me not to wander into the backcountry by myself, or else I risk meeting Lady Midnight. Who would then kidnap me, usurp my body, etcetera etcetera.”
“Right.” I grabbed another napkin and looked at the rest of the crew. They were all eating two huge sandwiches, if not more. I could smell the tangy waft of horseradish, mustard, and spicy sausage. Olek looked like he was annoyed that we were on break.
“And so … why did this crew fly all the way here?” I whispered. “Why shoot some Polish folk tale—in Vancouver?”
"Oh, I think the producer is half-Canadian. And he was able to secure some funding here. Something like that."
What funding? I wanted to say. I've seen high school films with higher budgets. But I chewed my lentils and stayed quiet.
We tossed all our crumpled wax paper and empty water bottles into a portable trash. At least they got that much right.
After enjoying a fruit bar as a dessert, I could actually feel myself winding down. My heart was no longer beating in my throat, the butterflies in my stomach were gone.
Relishing the feeling, I unwrapped a stick of gum—and then came the rustling.
Everyone paused and looked towards a set of bushes.
It was hard to articulate why, but even through the leaves, I could tell it was something walking on hooves. There was something padded about the movement. And maybe it was just me, but I could swear I heard a soft, ineffable oinking in the distance.
The crew sprang into action, locking the camera to its tripod within seconds. Konrad jumped up and grabbed my boom with a look that said: I’ll take this one.
Everyone aimed in the direction of the foliage, trying to capture whatever lurked. Olek glued himself to the viewfinder, zooming and adjusting the camera all himself. Konrad fully extended the boom and swung it around, trying to capture the sounds of whatever approached.
At the base of the bushes, I could see Polina’s gray rags lying splayed on the ground—was that intentional? Were the rags supposed to lure something?
For a moment, everyone went still. It felt like the entire wilderness had gone silent. A quiet wind lightly teased some branches. Olek turned both of his palms upward, as if he was holding something, or receiving something. Summoning something?
There came a growl, and everyone lowered their heads, looking for the source. Konrad got a little too animated and swung his boom pole right at Olek's temple.
Olek lashed out with one of his massive arms, which clipped the camera beside him, sending it straight to the ground. The bushes shuffled one more time, and then the pig, (or moose, or whatever it was) could be heard trailing away, breaking into a trot.
Olek brought the camera right up to his face, and aggressively clicked around the viewfinder’s touch screen. “Nie! Nie!” He slapped the device, as if he could rewind it to the moment before the opportunity was lost.
He waved his arms, trying to attract whatever energy had just dissipated, then stepped past the camera to face the bushes. “No kurwa mać!”
Like an angry child, Olek poked his head into the leaves and began batting at them, “Konrad ty pierdol! Ale to spieprzyłeś!”
Konrad’s eyes turned wide and quivering, he tried to withdraw into some reality where the take had not been ruined. Olek approached him with a slung back hand, ready to release some retributive slap. But after a tense moment, the only release was a torrent of spit on Kon’s face as Olek yelled and yelled and yelled.
Still sitting, I inched away on the log, afraid of what the director might do next. Even the rest of the crew took a few steps back.
As quickly as the tantrum started, Olek exhaled and dismissed Konrad, clearly unable to bear another glance.
Konrad snuck away, pretending to fiddle with the knobs on his mixer. Everyone looked at each other, but mostly at the ground. Some ravens cawed in the distance.
I was very glad it wasn't me who messed up.
—
With the afternoon came a powerful silence. You could hear squirrels scampering up trees, and woodpeckers drilling somewhere far, far away. The previously conversational crew, who would swap comments and observations for lively stretches of time, were now replaced by a band of servants who quickly nodded at whatever the director said.
I asked Konrad what exactly Olek had been trying to shoot earlier, and “how did everyone know to record the bushes?” Kon sighed and said that they were just looking for wilderness B roll. Olek had been trying to capture a deer on camera all week.
Without wasting time, the AD filled the silence. Our next shots were a series of POVs meant to simulate Polina running through the woods. The director would be handling the camera.
Trying to compensate for his screw up, Kon made sure we were ready first. We fastened a set of wireless mics directly to the camera, which was then mounted inside a rig that resembled a detached steering wheel. A makeshift Steadicam.
Rolling back the sleeves of his trench coat, Olek lifted the steering wheel and strode through the woods by himself, recording a shaky blur of trees, branches, and gloom. The rest of us huddled behind a monitor, watching the resulting footage, whispering only when necessary.
The cautious silence was definitely a change in tone, but it didn’t bother me. Previously I had felt like the odd one out. The Canadian fish that had slipped into some foreign Euro-Slavic pond. But now it felt like we were all in this together, we were all waiting for this manic director to blow off steam by galloping through the trees.
The footage didn’t look great (in my opinion). It was a glorified go-pro shot with a bad frame rate. The sound wasn’t much better. Kon and I both exchanged wide eyes listening to Olek’s grunts and groans as he trampled over the forest floor.
“Polish A24 huh?” I whispered in between takes.
“Maybe not this part,” Konrad shrugged, trying to play it off ... “we’ll fix it in post.”
It took about an hour of Olek trying to get some fern branches to ‘brush the lens in just the right way’ but eventually the plants seemed to oblige. He returned triumphant, lifting the camera above his head (as if it weighed nothing). Then he cleared the blonde strands clinging to the sweaty sides of his face, revealing a wicked smile.
“Okej. Running shot done. Now our final location.”
Olek gave the AD a high five and the spirits of the crew lifted slightly. Even I was starting to feel a sliver of cheer. Final location? Already? Does that mean we’re almost done?
“No more mistakes,” Olek pointed at Konrad, handing the camera away to some crew.
Kon said nothing.
—
Of course, getting to our final spot wasn’t so easy. The last shot required us to march much deeper into the forest, which reignited all the paranoia I was trying to rid myself of.
The pine trees grew taller and darker. The bird calls became deeper and raspier.
To ease my mind, I sidled right next to the AD at the front, to watch how he was navigating our misfit convoy. He smiled and showed me a pocket-sized GPS. It had a bright screen depicting a flag icon which we were nearing labelled ‘wieża.’
I asked him what it meant, and he just pointed ahead and said: ”Very soon.”
Despite the manifold branches and shadowy canopy, I could see a thin strip of metal gleam in the trees. In a few minutes we were approaching some long-abandoned radio tower that sat deep in the wilderness. This was the wieża.
Why was it built so far from civilization? As we climbed up the bramble-filled incline, I could make out a dwelling at its base and realized this must have been some outpost. A weather monitoring station?
The trees opened up and I could see we were in the midst of a relic. A two floored cabin that had faced the ravages of time and lost.
On its left side, the walls were built into the legs of the iron tower, which were now completely covered in vines and guarding a nest of abandoned firewood. The rest of the cabin was log-built, which gave it a pioneer feel, except the whole thing was caked in a bed of moss. Like it had sprouted out of the ground. I tried to look in, but the windows were completely boarded up (and also covered in more moss).
It had to be the most overgrown thing I’d ever seen.
“We think it used to be some kind of forest ranger outpost,” Konrad said. “But it has long been abandoned. Pretty sweet location huh?”
When we reached its vicinity, I pressed a finger into the cabin's exterior and felt the moss travel past my knuckles. It was remarkable that something so sturdy was abandoned like this. I would guess up to four people could have stayed here, living off camp supplies. How long was it used for?
“We must get coverage.” Olek announced, gesturing vaguely at the scenery. “Camera and sound. I want to capture it all.”
The crew got to work, opening all the carrying cases. I whispered to Kon. “So are we like shooting a scene or … ?”
“No. Not really,” Konrad turned on his mixer, and started playing with the levels. “Environmental shots, we’re just recording the feel of this place.”
Recording the feel? It sounded a bit vague, but I shrugged. I wasn’t about to question the experimental process of our genius director.
—
Unlike the running POVs which were shot rather quickly, Olek allowed ample time for the cabin’s cinematography. The DP alternated lenses and tripod heights until he found the perfect frames that evoked the ominous allure of this place.
It felt more like we were making art.
Konrad and I circumnavigated the house, calling for silence when we needed it. Our mics picked up the buzzing of local bugs, the faint squeaking of chipmunks and even a couple of owls which must’ve prematurely woken up.
I didn’t know if I wanted to admit it, but it was actually kind of fun.
On ninety nine percent of sets you record the same dialogue for hours. You’re competing with plane sounds and traffic sirens. You’ve got bitchy actors, entitled crew, indecisive directors, and rushed schedules that sap all the magic out of filmmaking. But here, in the middle of the woods, Me and Konrad just spent five minutes recording the rich, textural creak of an ancient cabin door. Olek was giving Kon the dead eye, but our recordings were still fully approved.
After an hour of capturing the surroundings, the AD called for a break.
The team turned to discussing how to shoot the interior, which was a technical conversation (all in Polish), so I focused on readying our gear.
As far as I knew, no one had brought any mobile lighting kits, so I wasn’t sure how they actually planned to shoot inside. We would have to spend an hour scouring mulch off glass for any natural light. And I wasn’t signing up for that job.
As if reading my mind, the AD approached me with an encouraging smile. He was clearly going to ask me to do something stupid. I took my time opening the package of fresh batteries, lined up the negative and positive charges in my mic, twice to be sure.
“Hello Anna, thank you so much for coming out today.”
“No problem. Give me a second.”
I did the same thing with my other microphone, double checking everything. If he was going to waste my time, I would waste his.
“How would you like to be in this film?”
I paused. “Be in this film? What do you mean?”
“Do you want to be actress?”
Without even intending to, my jaw dropped a little. I was not expecting this.
“No. Sorry. I don’t want to be an actress.”
The AD didn’t push it any further. He went back to the circle of crew and spoke with Olek. The director said some things, pulled Konrad aside, and then Konrad walked over to me.
Before he could open his mouth, I raised my hand. “Um, I’m not acting in this movie.”
“Who said anything about acting?” Konrad smiled, laughed a small laugh. “No no, nobody wants you to act. There’s just one particular shot they want to get. You see, technically speaking, this cabin is meant to be the birthplace of Północnica.”
“Pół—You mean Polina’s character?”
“Yeah. We’re getting shots of her home here as a flashback element. But Olek thinks it would be good to also get the back of the character’s head and profile, as she looks through her old house.”
Is that what we’ve been shooting? Some experimental flashback? “So, why was Polina wrapped earlier then?”
“It was an oversight. Now Olek thinks adding a Polina stand-in would be clutch.”
“Well, I’m sorry. I don’t want to be a stand in.” I looked at the mossy cabin, at the gaping black hole of the half open door. “Can’t Olek like … shoot Polina on a green screen?”
“No, no, come on, Anna, Olek doesn’t do that. He’s all practical. You have the same length of black hair. You’re about the same height. It’s just for one shot.”
“No Kon. I don’t want to do it.”
“You can think of it as an apology for getting you wrapped up in this. Olek will give you a day rate for acting.”
“What?”
“And I’ll give you half my day’s wage on top of that. Compensation for leaving you in that tree.”
“What the hell. Why?”
Konrad lowered his voice and brought his hands into a small prayer. “Please. I want this film to be a success. I want to be hired by these guys again. I’ve kept my word haven’t I?”
“What word?”
“That I’d act as a shield. Prevent you from doing anything uncomfortable.”
“Kon. This is making me feel uncomfortable.”
“But it’s the last thing! After this we’re done! We’ll go straight back to the car.”
I looked over the rest of the crew. The DP was waving his arms, explaining something to Olek who was nodding with minimal effort. Then Olek turned and looked directly at me. His gray eyes shimmered with focus that prevented mine from leaving. A hawk spying a mouse.
I did a full one eighty and faced the cabin. Konrad came over, hands still pleading, voice still a whisper. “I’ll even pay for your gas! For here and back—”
“—Listen Kon. Whatever pickup shot this is. It's the last thing I’m doing. Then we’re leaving.”
“So … is that a yes?”
“Get the AD to announce I am leaving right after this. You’re taking me straight back to my car.”
“Sure. Yeah I can do that.”
“And tell Olek I’m only doing one take.”
Konrad scratched the back of his neck; he looked over at the director. “Only one? But what if we need—”
“—I’m only doing one. That’s it. One and I’m out. If we need another that's your problem, you deal with Olek.”
“Okay. Okay, sure that’s fine. I’ll figure it out. Thank you Anna. Thank you so much.”
He gave me a hug. I stayed facing the cabin.
—
The makeup artist combed and sprayed my hair to match the wavy raggedness of Polina’s. She wasn’t very talkative but did mention I had pretty hair—naturally silky, and that it was easy to manipulate. Very easy to manipulate.
The AD had announced that this was going to be my last shot, just as Kon promised, and that I would be escorted as soon as we were done. It also meant my makeup artist had to triple check her work with a dozen brushes and wedges.
According to her, I looked “fabularna” (which must’ve meant “fable-like”). I responded with probably the meekest smile in my life.
Although shredded at the skirt, the upper half of Polina’s dress was still fully intact, and so I was allowed to change into it behind the cabin. No one came to supervise.
As I left, I could hear the echoes of the crew arguing. Olek was criticizing Konrad again over something. I ignored it.
For the first time since picking up Kon this morning, I was completely by myself. I took a moment to assess the whole situation.
This was it. Just me, by myself. In the middle of the woods with a bunch of strangers and a single friend from film school who gaffed my fourth year short. He was an alright gaffer, I guess.
Like honestly, I trust Konrad and think he’s a decent guy. He helped me land some of my first gigs out of film school. But those gigs were always weird.
He’d always be doing sound on music videos between half a dozen heavy metal bands I’d never heard of. All of them paid in cash. There was always a DP who would smoke weed in-between takes, or band members who always arrived late. I’ll never forget the day we wasted a whole afternoon on an insert of live snake as it slithered across sound speakers, our film gear, and then all the way into a kitchen cupboard. It was not a planned shot.
But despite the bullshit, I always did get paid. At a crucial point in my life too. I always felt like I owed Kon for that. It was a legitimate steppingstone for me.
Breathe. You’ve got this.
I stripped down to basically my underwear—relinquishing the cover and warmth of my trusty jeans, and oversized hoodie.
Christ it is cold. This dress is damp as hell.
I put my jeans back on. They’re only shooting from the waist up anyway. Considering the sudden windchill, it was something like two degrees outside.
Just five minutes of standing in the cold. You’ve had worse. Pretend you’re fine.
Pretending is what I’m good at.
I walked back over, holding a bundle of my previous clothes. The camera was set up, pointing into the open maw of the cabin.
The AD stood by the door, acting as a proxy for where I would be standing. “You’re still wearing your pants,” he said.
“Is that a problem?” I pointed to my waist and raised my finger until it reached my disinterested face. “I thought this was a medium.”
There was some muttering behind the camera. Olek seemed upset, but Konrad’s voice won out. “That’s fine, we can make that work right? It’s only one shot.”
Olek stepped out from behind the crew, looking unimpressed with the world at large. He waved his hand dismissively at the AD. He clearly didn’t care about my pants. Good.
“Alright, so you want me to open this door and stare into the cabin, right?” I stood in front of the cabin and gripped the handle. The handle was slimy with moss, and very cold from the sudden windiness around us. The hinges on the door itself were remarkably intact, so despite some creaky resistance, I managed to push it shut without much hassle. Then, flexing my arm a little, I pulled and opened the door again, pretending to look inside and recognize my beloved old home.
My beloved—completely pitch black—old home.
“Like this? Does that work?” I will give them this one take, and I will do it well—so everything is firmly over and done with.
The wind was causing my hair to whip back and forth, I calmly adjusted it back in place. “Any changes or can we just slate this already?”
The camera raised slightly, and Konrad found a new spot for his boom over my head.
“Another rehearsal,” Olek said. “Go again.”
I carefully returned the door to its closed position, and then went back to my starting mark on the ground. I should have told Konrad: max two rehearsals. For all I knew, Olek was going to get me to rehearse this over and over, and secretly record a dozen takes. It was the oldest trick in the book.
Whatever, give him the rehearsals.
Again, I flexed my right arm, lifted the handle, and pulled with that slight trepidation I’ve seen all actors do as they enter any place of plot significance.
Oooh what could be inside? Oh my gosh, it looks like the actor is realizing something! I stiffened my shoulder and then craned my neck inside.
And then I did in fact realize something. Why is the wind so strong?
It felt like a geyser of air was slowly blowing harder and harder.
I turned around to adjust, to brace myself against the door, when suddenly a blast of air thrust me forward.
My hands barely broke my fall.
Before I could make a sound—before I could even look up—SLAM!
The door had sealed me inside.
All light had vanished.
I quickly got up, ignoring the pain in my arms and yelled toward the door. “Hey! Hello! HELLO!”
The wind howled against the cabin.
I moved forward and found the door by the handle. I tried to push, but it felt like there was a wall on the other side. I couldn’t even budge it a little.
“Hello! Can you open up? Hello?!”
I pushed with my arm, my foot, and my back. Then I banged my fists right above the handle.
Goddamnit. Can they not hear me? Why is the door jammed?
I took deep breaths, my paranoia spilled out. Butterflies tickled my stomach and flew into my head. My heart bounced between my lungs. I pivoted on the ancient wooden floor, feeling dirt twist beneath my sneakers.
Don’t panic. There’s just a gale outside. They must all be disoriented. Although it had no bars, my phone still made a decent flashlight.
I lit up a floor covered with twigs and dirt. There was a cot on the far side, next to some broken shelves and a cluttered table. A couple plastic coolers lay all over the floor.
I looked around for another door on the opposite side of the cabin. Please tell me I overlooked one. There’s gotta be one there!
Of course there was none.
Then I discovered a ladder which led up to the tiny attic floor. If I was really desperate, I could maybe break through one of the upper windows, and cry for help or something.
But before I could plan my route, the door swung open again. It clipped my already sore leg.
Down on the floor, I reached out to the sudden blast of outdoor light. A large shape was tossed onto me, pinning me to the ground. Judging by the smell of the deodorant: it was Kon.
“Hey! Hold the door!” I shouted.
But the sliver of light vanished faster than I could get up.
“What the hell!” I tossed Konrad off of me, confused and angry at what was going on. I grabbed my phone light off the floor. “Kon, is that you!?”
It was, but he didn’t look to be moving. He was still wearing his large Sennheiser headphones, and he was awkwardly cradling a boom between his arms. I rolled him over onto his back, and that’s when I saw it.
A tear at his throat. A large bloody rip of missing flesh. It was soaked in red.
Fuck. What the fuck. What in god's name is happening.

I - II - III - IV - V
Thank god I didn’t break any bones.
The shrubby softness of the ravine’s slopes had cushioned enough of my fall. I leaned onto one of the slopes and let the earthy coolness soothe my sore back. Although there would be tenderness on my tailbone and left leg, everything still felt intact.
Olek had radioed in that he’d found me. I’d given him my headphones and Zoom recorder, which he was now using to review the quality of the last takes.
“Clean sound,” he nodded with a calm seriousness.
Was it clean though?
I could faintly hear the squealing whines through the cups of my headphones, but Olek gave no reaction as he pressed the cushions closer to his ears.
I wondered if he was intentionally trying to come off as unphased. Was he actually trying to be encouraging of my work? Did the pig squealing actually not bother him?
His entire demeanor felt alien. At times he would meet my eyes, trying to maybe show a glimmer of gratitude, or perhaps sympathy, but it's like he couldn’t get his face to activate the right muscles.
“I’m glad it’s clean.” I croaked out. Or that at least you think so.
After a few minutes of listening, Olek took off the headphones, and offered a massive palm for me to grab. I really didn’t want to leave with him, but I didn’t know what else to do.
I wouldn’t know where to go on my own without getting further lost in the woods. And the last thing I wanted was to get stuck in a worse ravine, dying of thirst, awaiting bears and cougars to eat me. So I grabbed his arm.
“Your work is strong,” he said. Then he handed back my gear.
“Uh … thank you.”
The ease with which Olek knew how to operate my equipment was a little astonishing. I figured he was probably used to playing multiple roles on set (the curse of many indie films), but after he hooked my boom into my mixer without a moment’s hesitation, another thought crossed my mind. Maybe he had been expecting me to use the handheld recorder.
Maybe he had been expecting me to climb up alone in that tree this whole time. Did he somehow know I would be menaced by this ghostly pig?
I stared at his swirling trench coat as he led the way to an exiting slope. Was something supposed to happen to me in that tree?
He briefly turned around and said, “Don't forget to back up the data on that card. We can't lose it.”
Then I realized I was dealing with a guy who only cared about his film. That’s why he sent me up that oak. That’s why he didn’t care about my bruises. He truly only cared about his audio. His video. Just a regular self-absorbed dude.
Stupid as it sounds—that felt relieving. I didn’t want to focus on paranormal, conspiratorial thinking. I just wanted to get out of here.
—
With no real option, I followed Olek, limping slightly, just two steps behind. It felt very weird to come back like an obedient sheep, like a patient returned to her psych ward, but what was I supposed to do? Keep shambling through the woods? Pray that I somehow stumbled back to my car?
Within minutes we were back at the meadow, showing just how little I had actually run.
As soon as we broke through the forest, Konrad sprinted over, clasping both his palms on my shoulders. "Oh my god Anna! What happened?"
I appreciated that he had run up. The rest of the crew were still across the meadow, observing distantly, fiddling with tripods and bounce boards.
I cleared my throat and rubbed my aching left knee. “I fell into a ditch Kon. Olek got me out.”
Perhaps sensing I needed time alone with the only proper English speaker—Olek dismissed Konrad and continued to the others.
Konrad said something in Polish, but then immediately turned to me. “Are you injured? Are you like… okay?”
My limbs were sore but that wasn’t the main problem. “I’m okay, but … no, not really, I'm not okay. I don't feel comfortable right now about any of this.” I gestured at the crew, the woods, the gray clouds and turned to whispering. “I can’t be here. Something fucked is going on.”
“What do you mean?”
I didn’t really know where to start. I sort of tossed my arms, grasping for the easiest explanation, and so I pointed to the tree. “I heard some demonic sounds in my headphones when I was up there.”
Konrad glanced back at the oak in the meadow's center.
“And then when I looked down, Polina was gone. Only her shredded clothes were left.”
Konrad took a pause. "Well … that’s because Polina's wrapped. We finished her scene, so she left."
“Yes but … ” I emphasized the strangeness. “She left so abruptly, I didn’t even see her leave.”
“Well … you were up in the tree Anna, I don’t think you would be able to see her leave.”
I definitely thought I would have, but I let it go. “Well the demonic thing I heard, it sounded like an animal. It attacked Polina.”
“Attacked her?”
“Attacked, and then, well … it ate her.”
“Ate her?”
I held on to the sides of my head. My mixer was still dangling from my neck on a lanyard. “Yes, ate her! There was a slurping and crunching of some fucking animal that I recorded on my mixer. It sounded like Polina was being mauled.”
I placed my headphones on Konrad’s head and played the last sound file I recorded.
With the volume turned high, I could make out the shrieks quite vividly.
Kon seemed put off but kept listening to it. “What? You recorded this? Is the file corrupted or—?”
“—No. Even the director signed off on this! He listened and gave approval!” As I said the words, I realized how fucked that was. Olek had literally listened to this file in the ravine and said: ‘clean sound.’
Konrad looked skeptical. “Are you sure you didn't misunderstand him? I know Olek's English—”
“No! I understood him perfectly fine. That's the recording he wanted. It was some kind of boar, and it was attacking Polina.”
Kon held onto the headphones intently and nodded. “Are you sure it's not just some weird artifacting? Is the SD card malfunctioning or—”
“—The SD card is totally unused.”
“Right.” He handed the headphones back. “I mean, that doesn’t mean it can’t glitch.”
I crossed my arms. I’ve never heard of a new card glitching.
“Also, I was with the crew,” Kon pointed over his shoulder. “We were watching Polina and the tree the whole time. I didn’t see any animal, boar, or anything.”
I pointed at the pile of rags still resting by the tree "then what about all the blood on her clothes? How did they get shredded?”
"Well, I mean we're shooting a horror, Anna. That was all makeup and—."
"—I didn't see any makeup team come over!"
"That's cause you were up in the—”
“—DON’T SAY I WAS UP IN THE TREE!”
I yelled and could feel myself lose a bit of control. Olek and some of the crew glanced back from across the field. I ignored them.
“Kon, listen. Something rammed that tree and knocked me down. That’s what made me run.”
He looked at me but said nothing.
“There was this terrible pig shrieking in my headphones the whole time, and I swear I saw a big black boar run toward me for a second. That’s why I ran.”
Hands raised, Kon made eye contact with me and nodded with as much politeness as I had ever seen him muster. “Listen Anna, I’m not discounting whatever it is that you saw. Or heard. I totally respect that. Clearly something scared you. I feel you.”
“No. Kon you’re not listening to me. Something fucked is going on. I don’t know what it is, but I want nothing to do with it.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean I'm not working on this set any more. There’s something wrong. I’m going home."
I started marching forward, but Konrad moved in front of me. "Woah woah, Anna, hold up. I get it. I would feel the same way. But come on, you can't go home. We still have a couple more shots to get.”
I handed him the microphone. "Then you can record the rest yourself. Go ahead, you mix and boom.”
“If you leave, how am I supposed to get home? They don't have room in their car."
"Then ride across their laps."
"Anna please." Konrad’s voice got quiet. "I don't want to be embarrassed in front of these guys. They make amazing horror movies, like Polish A24 level shit. My previous boom op fell through. I just need you to at least stick it through the rest of the day."
I glanced over at the mobilizing crew; they had packed everything back into carrying cases. They almost looked like a normal film team, like any typical heads of department I’d seen on set of District PD or Untold Stories of the ER, but they were wearing so much black, so much leather and had so many piercings. Their entire vibe felt off.
"I agree that there is a … creepiness,” Konrad lowered his voice further. “Olek is able to cultivate an amazing atmosphere, and I think it's why his films are always so strong. He brings a realness. A sort of raw element that’s hard to explain. And obviously that can result in some eerie coincidences on set, for sure. But remember: it is just a movie. This is just a regular forest ... we’re just here to do a job.”
It feels like something is legit haunted, I wanted to say, but I held my tongue.
"Just stay a few more hours. You can stick by me for the rest of the shoot. If something requires weird booming, I’ll do it. If there's another tree situation, I'll volunteer. Whatever it takes to make you comfortable. Please. For me.”
The emotion was genuine, and despite the urgency in his voice, Konrad had let go of my arm, to show that he wasn’t trying to impede me or something. But I was still annoyed. Furious in fact, that he had tricked me into working on this janky set with a flippant director.
I considered just leaving, just trying to head back towards the parking lot. But the thing was, I didn’t know how to navigate back. I actually needed Konrad to help return to the car.
I sighed, groaned, and rubbed my left knee. “Goddamnit Kon. Why’d you mix me up in this? I told you I only work big shows now.”
“I know, but …” He put his hands in his pockets, looked at the ground. “This could become a big deal for me. I told Olek I would get a sound assistant. I didn't think this would be such an ordeal. Please … ”
The rest of the crew had now gathered all their stuff and were walking along the perimeter of the meadow, probably moving to the next location. There was the faint outline of the sun behind the overcast sky. It had risen ever so slightly, brightening the world just a little bit.
"Oh my god. Fuck. Fine. Fuck you.” I pointed directly at Kon’s skittish face. “But you listen to me: If anything else weird happens, and I mean anything off in the slightest, promise that you won't question me, and that you'll take me straight back to the car. I don’t want any second-guessing or hesitation, okay?"
"Yes. Of course.” Konrad held out his arm. “I swear on my mother’s grave.”
I stared at his pupils. He looked earnest, and eager to maintain eye contact. Then I looked at his open palm. The fingers were slowly stretching towards me, seeking confirmation.
I handed him the boom pole. “The next shot is yours. I’m not booming.”
“Sure. That’s no problem.”
“And I want to know exactly how many shots are left.”
“We can ask the AD.”
“And I want you to admit right now: that this is weird. That it's not cool you’ve roped me into this. And that you’re a fucking idiot.”
“Yes. Yes, you’re right. I’m wrong. I’m a fucking idiot.”
I hated this. I did not feel comfortable. But I needed a guide out. I needed Kon to be agreeable. Like with so many other annoying things about the film industry (the hours, the nepotism, the sexism, to name a few), there comes a time when you just have to grin and bear it. Pretend it doesn’t bother you and get through it.
I rubbed my knee one last time, and then ignored the soreness as I continued to walk. Pretending is what I do best.
—
We set up for lunch by some logs near the meadow’s edge, using gear cases as tables. Konrad had advocated that we could use a reset (which I appreciated), and thankfully no one was opposed to an early snack. Most of the crew members had skipped their breakfast.
Over sandwiches, I focused on relaxing. I wanted this to be just a normal set. I didn’t want to be in panic mode the whole time.
So, I bit the bullet and apologized to the crew. I didn’t want them judging me for the rest of the day. I stood up in the middle of their eating circle and said I was sorry. In response, The AD came and patted my back, telling me not to worry, and that apologies were unnecessary.
Everyone came to understand that I had had a panic attack, but now I was okay. They were respecting that. Everyone acknowledged that the woods were dark, and it is of course very easy to see things that aren’t there. It is reasonable to get afraid.
“In the forest,” the makeup artist said, “it is natural to be scared.”
“Yes, it is very natural,” I said. Then I sat back into my own corner.
My sandwich was packed with lentils just like Konrad had said. In fact, they had made two huge sandwiches just for me, which I was grateful for because my body was craving energy.
Even though I wanted to inhale the food, I paced myself. I ate as normally as I would on any other occasion, because the more I acted like everything was fine, the more mentally everything felt fine.
I made small talk.
I stretched my legs.
I asked Kon what this movie was even about.
“Oh, it's a Polish folklore film.” He spoke in-between bites. "It's about scary things in the forest."
“Like scary things … attacking Polina?”
“Sort of. Polina plays Północnica. ‘Lady Midnight’”
“Lady Midnight?”
“Yes. She is a ghost in Polish folklore. A wraith who will try and possess your body.”
I chewed and wondered how Polina’s cowering and wailing was supposed to make her a possessive wraith. “She seems more like a victim to me.”
“That’s because she is.” Kon wiped his mouth. “This film is her origin story. Before she became Północnica, she was just a regular woman. A regular villager who made a bad deal with the devil, who then cursed her to wander the earth as a wraith.”
I nodded as if this was common knowledge. “You’ve read the script?”
“No. I know it from childhood. My mom used to warn me not to wander into the backcountry by myself, or else I risk meeting Lady Midnight. Who would then kidnap me, usurp my body, etcetera etcetera.”
“Right.” I grabbed another napkin and looked at the rest of the crew. They were all eating two huge sandwiches, if not more. I could smell the tangy waft of horseradish, mustard, and spicy sausage. Olek looked like he was annoyed that we were on break.
“And so … why did this crew fly all the way here?” I whispered. “Why shoot some Polish folk tale—in Vancouver?”
"Oh, I think the producer is half-Canadian. And he was able to secure some funding here. Something like that."
What funding? I wanted to say. I've seen high school films with higher budgets. But I chewed my lentils and stayed quiet.
We tossed all our crumpled wax paper and empty water bottles into a portable trash. At least they got that much right.
After enjoying a fruit bar as a dessert, I could actually feel myself winding down. My heart was no longer beating in my throat, the butterflies in my stomach were gone.
Relishing the feeling, I unwrapped a stick of gum—and then came the rustling.
Everyone paused and looked towards a set of bushes.
It was hard to articulate why, but even through the leaves, I could tell it was something walking on hooves. There was something padded about the movement. And maybe it was just me, but I could swear I heard a soft, ineffable oinking in the distance.
The crew sprang into action, locking the camera to its tripod within seconds. Konrad jumped up and grabbed my boom with a look that said: I’ll take this one.
Everyone aimed in the direction of the foliage, trying to capture whatever lurked. Olek glued himself to the viewfinder, zooming and adjusting the camera all himself. Konrad fully extended the boom and swung it around, trying to capture the sounds of whatever approached.
At the base of the bushes, I could see Polina’s gray rags lying splayed on the ground—was that intentional? Were the rags supposed to lure something?
For a moment, everyone went still. It felt like the entire wilderness had gone silent. A quiet wind lightly teased some branches. Olek turned both of his palms upward, as if he was holding something, or receiving something. Summoning something?
There came a growl, and everyone lowered their heads, looking for the source. Konrad got a little too animated and swung his boom pole right at Olek's temple.
Olek lashed out with one of his massive arms, which clipped the camera beside him, sending it straight to the ground. The bushes shuffled one more time, and then the pig, (or moose, or whatever it was) could be heard trailing away, breaking into a trot.
Olek brought the camera right up to his face, and aggressively clicked around the viewfinder’s touch screen. “Nie! Nie!” He slapped the device, as if he could rewind it to the moment before the opportunity was lost.
He waved his arms, trying to attract whatever energy had just dissipated, then stepped past the camera to face the bushes. “No kurwa mać!”
Like an angry child, Olek poked his head into the leaves and began batting at them, “Konrad ty pierdol! Ale to spieprzyłeś!”
Konrad’s eyes turned wide and quivering, he tried to withdraw into some reality where the take had not been ruined. Olek approached him with a slung back hand, ready to release some retributive slap. But after a tense moment, the only release was a torrent of spit on Kon’s face as Olek yelled and yelled and yelled.
Still sitting, I inched away on the log, afraid of what the director might do next. Even the rest of the crew took a few steps back.
As quickly as the tantrum started, Olek exhaled and dismissed Konrad, clearly unable to bear another glance.
Konrad snuck away, pretending to fiddle with the knobs on his mixer. Everyone looked at each other, but mostly at the ground. Some ravens cawed in the distance.
I was very glad it wasn't me who messed up.
—
With the afternoon came a powerful silence. You could hear squirrels scampering up trees, and woodpeckers drilling somewhere far, far away. The previously conversational crew, who would swap comments and observations for lively stretches of time, were now replaced by a band of servants who quickly nodded at whatever the director said.
I asked Konrad what exactly Olek had been trying to shoot earlier, and “how did everyone know to record the bushes?” Kon sighed and said that they were just looking for wilderness B roll. Olek had been trying to capture a deer on camera all week.
Without wasting time, the AD filled the silence. Our next shots were a series of POVs meant to simulate Polina running through the woods. The director would be handling the camera.
Trying to compensate for his screw up, Kon made sure we were ready first. We fastened a set of wireless mics directly to the camera, which was then mounted inside a rig that resembled a detached steering wheel. A makeshift Steadicam.
Rolling back the sleeves of his trench coat, Olek lifted the steering wheel and strode through the woods by himself, recording a shaky blur of trees, branches, and gloom. The rest of us huddled behind a monitor, watching the resulting footage, whispering only when necessary.
The cautious silence was definitely a change in tone, but it didn’t bother me. Previously I had felt like the odd one out. The Canadian fish that had slipped into some foreign Euro-Slavic pond. But now it felt like we were all in this together, we were all waiting for this manic director to blow off steam by galloping through the trees.
The footage didn’t look great (in my opinion). It was a glorified go-pro shot with a bad frame rate. The sound wasn’t much better. Kon and I both exchanged wide eyes listening to Olek’s grunts and groans as he trampled over the forest floor.
“Polish A24 huh?” I whispered in between takes.
“Maybe not this part,” Konrad shrugged, trying to play it off ... “we’ll fix it in post.”
It took about an hour of Olek trying to get some fern branches to ‘brush the lens in just the right way’ but eventually the plants seemed to oblige. He returned triumphant, lifting the camera above his head (as if it weighed nothing). Then he cleared the blonde strands clinging to the sweaty sides of his face, revealing a wicked smile.
“Okej. Running shot done. Now our final location.”
Olek gave the AD a high five and the spirits of the crew lifted slightly. Even I was starting to feel a sliver of cheer. Final location? Already? Does that mean we’re almost done?
“No more mistakes,” Olek pointed at Konrad, handing the camera away to some crew.
Kon said nothing.
—
Of course, getting to our final spot wasn’t so easy. The last shot required us to march much deeper into the forest, which reignited all the paranoia I was trying to rid myself of.
The pine trees grew taller and darker. The bird calls became deeper and raspier.
To ease my mind, I sidled right next to the AD at the front, to watch how he was navigating our misfit convoy. He smiled and showed me a pocket-sized GPS. It had a bright screen depicting a flag icon which we were nearing labelled ‘wieża.’
I asked him what it meant, and he just pointed ahead and said: ”Very soon.”
Despite the manifold branches and shadowy canopy, I could see a thin strip of metal gleam in the trees. In a few minutes we were approaching some long-abandoned radio tower that sat deep in the wilderness. This was the wieża.
Why was it built so far from civilization? As we climbed up the bramble-filled incline, I could make out a dwelling at its base and realized this must have been some outpost. A weather monitoring station?
The trees opened up and I could see we were in the midst of a relic. A two floored cabin that had faced the ravages of time and lost.
On its left side, the walls were built into the legs of the iron tower, which were now completely covered in vines and guarding a nest of abandoned firewood. The rest of the cabin was log-built, which gave it a pioneer feel, except the whole thing was caked in a bed of moss. Like it had sprouted out of the ground. I tried to look in, but the windows were completely boarded up (and also covered in more moss).
It had to be the most overgrown thing I’d ever seen.
“We think it used to be some kind of forest ranger outpost,” Konrad said. “But it has long been abandoned. Pretty sweet location huh?”
When we reached its vicinity, I pressed a finger into the cabin's exterior and felt the moss travel past my knuckles. It was remarkable that something so sturdy was abandoned like this. I would guess up to four people could have stayed here, living off camp supplies. How long was it used for?
“We must get coverage.” Olek announced, gesturing vaguely at the scenery. “Camera and sound. I want to capture it all.”
The crew got to work, opening all the carrying cases. I whispered to Kon. “So are we like shooting a scene or … ?”
“No. Not really,” Konrad turned on his mixer, and started playing with the levels. “Environmental shots, we’re just recording the feel of this place.”
Recording the feel? It sounded a bit vague, but I shrugged. I wasn’t about to question the experimental process of our genius director.
—
Unlike the running POVs which were shot rather quickly, Olek allowed ample time for the cabin’s cinematography. The DP alternated lenses and tripod heights until he found the perfect frames that evoked the ominous allure of this place.
It felt more like we were making art.
Konrad and I circumnavigated the house, calling for silence when we needed it. Our mics picked up the buzzing of local bugs, the faint squeaking of chipmunks and even a couple of owls which must’ve prematurely woken up.
I didn’t know if I wanted to admit it, but it was actually kind of fun.
On ninety nine percent of sets you record the same dialogue for hours. You’re competing with plane sounds and traffic sirens. You’ve got bitchy actors, entitled crew, indecisive directors, and rushed schedules that sap all the magic out of filmmaking. But here, in the middle of the woods, Me and Konrad just spent five minutes recording the rich, textural creak of an ancient cabin door. Olek was giving Kon the dead eye, but our recordings were still fully approved.
After an hour of capturing the surroundings, the AD called for a break.
The team turned to discussing how to shoot the interior, which was a technical conversation (all in Polish), so I focused on readying our gear.
As far as I knew, no one had brought any mobile lighting kits, so I wasn’t sure how they actually planned to shoot inside. We would have to spend an hour scouring mulch off glass for any natural light. And I wasn’t signing up for that job.
As if reading my mind, the AD approached me with an encouraging smile. He was clearly going to ask me to do something stupid. I took my time opening the package of fresh batteries, lined up the negative and positive charges in my mic, twice to be sure.
“Hello Anna, thank you so much for coming out today.”
“No problem. Give me a second.”
I did the same thing with my other microphone, double checking everything. If he was going to waste my time, I would waste his.
“How would you like to be in this film?”
I paused. “Be in this film? What do you mean?”
“Do you want to be actress?”
Without even intending to, my jaw dropped a little. I was not expecting this.
“No. Sorry. I don’t want to be an actress.”
The AD didn’t push it any further. He went back to the circle of crew and spoke with Olek. The director said some things, pulled Konrad aside, and then Konrad walked over to me.
Before he could open his mouth, I raised my hand. “Um, I’m not acting in this movie.”
“Who said anything about acting?” Konrad smiled, laughed a small laugh. “No no, nobody wants you to act. There’s just one particular shot they want to get. You see, technically speaking, this cabin is meant to be the birthplace of Północnica.”
“Pół—You mean Polina’s character?”
“Yeah. We’re getting shots of her home here as a flashback element. But Olek thinks it would be good to also get the back of the character’s head and profile, as she looks through her old house.”
Is that what we’ve been shooting? Some experimental flashback? “So, why was Polina wrapped earlier then?”
“It was an oversight. Now Olek thinks adding a Polina stand-in would be clutch.”
“Well, I’m sorry. I don’t want to be a stand in.” I looked at the mossy cabin, at the gaping black hole of the half open door. “Can’t Olek like … shoot Polina on a green screen?”
“No, no, come on, Anna, Olek doesn’t do that. He’s all practical. You have the same length of black hair. You’re about the same height. It’s just for one shot.”
“No Kon. I don’t want to do it.”
“You can think of it as an apology for getting you wrapped up in this. Olek will give you a day rate for acting.”
“What?”
“And I’ll give you half my day’s wage on top of that. Compensation for leaving you in that tree.”
“What the hell. Why?”
Konrad lowered his voice and brought his hands into a small prayer. “Please. I want this film to be a success. I want to be hired by these guys again. I’ve kept my word haven’t I?”
“What word?”
“That I’d act as a shield. Prevent you from doing anything uncomfortable.”
“Kon. This is making me feel uncomfortable.”
“But it’s the last thing! After this we’re done! We’ll go straight back to the car.”
I looked over the rest of the crew. The DP was waving his arms, explaining something to Olek who was nodding with minimal effort. Then Olek turned and looked directly at me. His gray eyes shimmered with focus that prevented mine from leaving. A hawk spying a mouse.
I did a full one eighty and faced the cabin. Konrad came over, hands still pleading, voice still a whisper. “I’ll even pay for your gas! For here and back—”
“—Listen Kon. Whatever pickup shot this is. It's the last thing I’m doing. Then we’re leaving.”
“So … is that a yes?”
“Get the AD to announce I am leaving right after this. You’re taking me straight back to my car.”
“Sure. Yeah I can do that.”
“And tell Olek I’m only doing one take.”
Konrad scratched the back of his neck; he looked over at the director. “Only one? But what if we need—”
“—I’m only doing one. That’s it. One and I’m out. If we need another that's your problem, you deal with Olek.”
“Okay. Okay, sure that’s fine. I’ll figure it out. Thank you Anna. Thank you so much.”
He gave me a hug. I stayed facing the cabin.
—
The makeup artist combed and sprayed my hair to match the wavy raggedness of Polina’s. She wasn’t very talkative but did mention I had pretty hair—naturally silky, and that it was easy to manipulate. Very easy to manipulate.
The AD had announced that this was going to be my last shot, just as Kon promised, and that I would be escorted as soon as we were done. It also meant my makeup artist had to triple check her work with a dozen brushes and wedges.
According to her, I looked “fabularna” (which must’ve meant “fable-like”). I responded with probably the meekest smile in my life.
Although shredded at the skirt, the upper half of Polina’s dress was still fully intact, and so I was allowed to change into it behind the cabin. No one came to supervise.
As I left, I could hear the echoes of the crew arguing. Olek was criticizing Konrad again over something. I ignored it.
For the first time since picking up Kon this morning, I was completely by myself. I took a moment to assess the whole situation.
This was it. Just me, by myself. In the middle of the woods with a bunch of strangers and a single friend from film school who gaffed my fourth year short. He was an alright gaffer, I guess.
Like honestly, I trust Konrad and think he’s a decent guy. He helped me land some of my first gigs out of film school. But those gigs were always weird.
He’d always be doing sound on music videos between half a dozen heavy metal bands I’d never heard of. All of them paid in cash. There was always a DP who would smoke weed in-between takes, or band members who always arrived late. I’ll never forget the day we wasted a whole afternoon on an insert of live snake as it slithered across sound speakers, our film gear, and then all the way into a kitchen cupboard. It was not a planned shot.
But despite the bullshit, I always did get paid. At a crucial point in my life too. I always felt like I owed Kon for that. It was a legitimate steppingstone for me.
Breathe. You’ve got this.
I stripped down to basically my underwear—relinquishing the cover and warmth of my trusty jeans, and oversized hoodie.
Christ it is cold. This dress is damp as hell.
I put my jeans back on. They’re only shooting from the waist up anyway. Considering the sudden windchill, it was something like two degrees outside.
Just five minutes of standing in the cold. You’ve had worse. Pretend you’re fine.
Pretending is what I’m good at.
I walked back over, holding a bundle of my previous clothes. The camera was set up, pointing into the open maw of the cabin.
The AD stood by the door, acting as a proxy for where I would be standing. “You’re still wearing your pants,” he said.
“Is that a problem?” I pointed to my waist and raised my finger until it reached my disinterested face. “I thought this was a medium.”
There was some muttering behind the camera. Olek seemed upset, but Konrad’s voice won out. “That’s fine, we can make that work right? It’s only one shot.”
Olek stepped out from behind the crew, looking unimpressed with the world at large. He waved his hand dismissively at the AD. He clearly didn’t care about my pants. Good.
“Alright, so you want me to open this door and stare into the cabin, right?” I stood in front of the cabin and gripped the handle. The handle was slimy with moss, and very cold from the sudden windiness around us. The hinges on the door itself were remarkably intact, so despite some creaky resistance, I managed to push it shut without much hassle. Then, flexing my arm a little, I pulled and opened the door again, pretending to look inside and recognize my beloved old home.
My beloved—completely pitch black—old home.
“Like this? Does that work?” I will give them this one take, and I will do it well—so everything is firmly over and done with.
The wind was causing my hair to whip back and forth, I calmly adjusted it back in place. “Any changes or can we just slate this already?”
The camera raised slightly, and Konrad found a new spot for his boom over my head.
“Another rehearsal,” Olek said. “Go again.”
I carefully returned the door to its closed position, and then went back to my starting mark on the ground. I should have told Konrad: max two rehearsals. For all I knew, Olek was going to get me to rehearse this over and over, and secretly record a dozen takes. It was the oldest trick in the book.
Whatever, give him the rehearsals.
Again, I flexed my right arm, lifted the handle, and pulled with that slight trepidation I’ve seen all actors do as they enter any place of plot significance.
Oooh what could be inside? Oh my gosh, it looks like the actor is realizing something! I stiffened my shoulder and then craned my neck inside.
And then I did in fact realize something. Why is the wind so strong?
It felt like a geyser of air was slowly blowing harder and harder.
I turned around to adjust, to brace myself against the door, when suddenly a blast of air thrust me forward.
My hands barely broke my fall.
Before I could make a sound—before I could even look up—SLAM!
The door had sealed me inside.
All light had vanished.
I quickly got up, ignoring the pain in my arms and yelled toward the door. “Hey! Hello! HELLO!”
The wind howled against the cabin.
I moved forward and found the door by the handle. I tried to push, but it felt like there was a wall on the other side. I couldn’t even budge it a little.
“Hello! Can you open up? Hello?!”
I pushed with my arm, my foot, and my back. Then I banged my fists right above the handle.
Goddamnit. Can they not hear me? Why is the door jammed?
I took deep breaths, my paranoia spilled out. Butterflies tickled my stomach and flew into my head. My heart bounced between my lungs. I pivoted on the ancient wooden floor, feeling dirt twist beneath my sneakers.
Don’t panic. There’s just a gale outside. They must all be disoriented. Although it had no bars, my phone still made a decent flashlight.
I lit up a floor covered with twigs and dirt. There was a cot on the far side, next to some broken shelves and a cluttered table. A couple plastic coolers lay all over the floor.
I looked around for another door on the opposite side of the cabin. Please tell me I overlooked one. There’s gotta be one there!
Of course there was none.
Then I discovered a ladder which led up to the tiny attic floor. If I was really desperate, I could maybe break through one of the upper windows, and cry for help or something.
But before I could plan my route, the door swung open again. It clipped my already sore leg.
Down on the floor, I reached out to the sudden blast of outdoor light. A large shape was tossed onto me, pinning me to the ground. Judging by the smell of the deodorant: it was Kon.
“Hey! Hold the door!” I shouted.
But the sliver of light vanished faster than I could get up.
“What the hell!” I tossed Konrad off of me, confused and angry at what was going on. I grabbed my phone light off the floor. “Kon, is that you!?”
It was, but he didn’t look to be moving. He was still wearing his large Sennheiser headphones, and he was awkwardly cradling a boom between his arms. I rolled him over onto his back, and that’s when I saw it.
A tear at his throat. A large bloody rip of missing flesh. It was soaked in red.
Fuck. What the fuck. What in god's name is happening.

{Previous Part} ~ {Chapter Library} ~ {Next Chapter}
I ignore my thoughts and let my adrenaline take control. The first thing I do is take his walkie off his him in case he wakes up, then I dash for the door and lock it. I sprint for the armory and do the same thing to that entrance, then rush back to the body and start down at it. A puddle of blood has formed around his head, and I can't tell if it's all from the wound there, or if some is spilling from his mouth.
"Shit, shit, shit..." I mutter as I look around. My eyes happen to catch the monitors, and I quickly scan it for the facility's feed to get an idea of what I need to work around. I'm relieved to see that most places look vacant, but then grow concerned when I see the reason. The whole facility seems to be gathered in the cafeteria again like they were when Val and I were here last time.
'So much for picking everyone off one by one.'
I'll need to wait for a better opportunity, but first I need to make sure nobody finds out about the man I just struck down. I'm about to turn away from the screens and get to it, but then I see that there's one stray person still roaming the halls. They carry something in their hands, and thought I'm not entirely familiar with the compound's layout, from my time here before, I recognize the corridor as the one just outside the door behind me...
I turn to it, and the glass portal that's inserted there.
'Get him away from that window!'
I bend over and grab the man's arms, tugging with all of my might. I'm so tired, and my body is nearly at its limit, so pulling the 300 lbs. limp bag of meat feels like I'm hauling an anvil. Still, I burn the last shred of my body's panic fuel to slip him through his own blood and into the hallway behind us, just in time to hear boots clanking down the corridor in approach.
"Please pass by, please pass by..." I mutter, as if my prayer can will the thought into reality. Holding my breath, I watch the figure approach through the wall, then stop right outside the door. My breath catches in my throat as the handle jiggles, then a knock rings out.
"Ron?" a woman's voice beckons. A familiar woman's voice. Layla's familiar voice.
'Shit...'
Whether it's the sundance hindering her perception, or that there was already blood on the floor to begin with, she doesn't seem to be worried about the puddle by the chair. At least, not yet.
"Ron, why'd you lock the door?" She calls out again alongside a knock, "You knew I was coming back with coffee."
I hold perfectly still, waiting to see how she proceeds.
Layla moves away from the door and begins crossing farther down the hall, coming to rest in front of the armory. She tries the handle on that one too, and this time snickers to herself, "Are you jerking off in there or somethin'? If you really needed to relieve yourself that bad you could have gone to the fucking Petal chambers."
Her sentence makes my stomach churn, but whatever its meaning is will have to wait to be analyzed. I realize that she's going to get suspicious if one of these doors doesn't open soon, and if that happens, she's going to notify somebody. That means I could be dealing with a lot more people than just her.
I rapidly weigh my options. If I let her in the room in a way that I can still get the jump on her, then I can take her out, just like I did to Ron. Well, hopefully better than I did to Ron.
'That means you'd actually have to kill her, Wes...'
My conscience denies it, but I know it's true. I know this woman, and she's a different breed. A violent one. If I don't take her down in one go, then there's a very good chance she won't take the time to beg like Ron did. She'd start immediately swinging back.
I close my eyes tight. With gritted teeth, I force myself to remember the image of her gutting poor Mrs. Bauer in the street. I force myself to imagine her stabbing Renee relentlessly, and the stupid, smug grin she probably had on her face well doing it. It doesn't matter if it was actually her that time; I know that she's done it to hundreds of others.
My tired muscles pump back to life with fuel added to the fire. I dash from my spot in the hall over to the surveillance door, flick the lock off, then swing it open, ducking behind it as I do. It's audible enough for Layla to hear, and she quickly takes notice before starting over.
"About time," She cackles as she approaches the opening, "That kid show up at all while I was gone?"
Through the window on the door above me, I can see Layla enter the doorway. She stops, looking into the room with confusion before calling out, "Ron? Where the hell are you?"
I clench the knife tighter in my hands and lock my legs. I just need her inside a little farther...
She moves into the surveillance room and looks around, her back turned to me.
I stand.
Holding two cups of steaming liquid, Layla looks into the hallway where she sees Ron lying. Her giddy, high mind must not process the sight because she simply scoffs with amusement and asks, "What the hell are you doing, Ron? Stop fucking around."
She might have had time to process what was really going on, but I don't give it to her. I check the door shut with my shoulder as I dash forward so that no one will hear outside, then raise my knife high, prepping to lunge it down. Layla spins inhumanly fast on her heels upon hearing the door slam, and drops the coffee in shock when she sees me coming. Not hesitating this time, I force the blade downward and aim for the base of her neck. She sidesteps and brings her hands up to stop me, but she's not quick enough, and the blade goes sinking an inch into her shoulder before she catches my arm.
A low grunt of pain escapes her lips as the pain sets in, but she grits her teeth and uses her adrenaline to shove against my arm. I wrestle back, doing my best to deliver the blade further into its destination. At a standstill, we struggle back and forth for a few seconds before Layla realizes she's not going to win. She keeps my arm gripped, but hurls her weight forward, allowing the knife to sink a little deeper, but also causing me to tumble to my back from the impact.
Layla staggers away, gripping the fresh hole in her shoulder, while I internally curse myself for botching the only chance I had. I didn't want it to come down to it; I know it will alert the whole compound, but there's no way I'm winning in a fight against this woman.
I drop my knife and slap the holster at my hip, unlatching the strap and drawing the gun. Layla quickly notices. Before I can raise the weapon, Her boot stomps down on my wrist, pinning it to the floor and sending a searing pain through my arm. With her other foot, she kicks at the gun, knocking it from my hand and sending it skittering across the floor. In a panic, I yank my arm, putting my whole body into it, and with her foot still raised from the kick, it causes her one leg to slip. She launches backward and thuds hard against the metal floor.
While she's disoriented, I snatch up my blade and jump to my feet. I consider pouncing at her in an attempt to get a finishing jab in, but when she lunged to pin my arm, she must have drawn her own blade, which she now brandishes in front of her while she catches her breath and crawls backward across the floor. I step back myself, slipping into a fighting stance and readying preparing for whatever is about to happen. The two of us stare wild-eyed at one another before a crazed smile cracks Layla's lips.
"Well, aren't I the lucky one," She chuckles, climbing to her feet. "Here I was for the last couple hours helping ol' Ron look for none other than you, and then, suddenly, here you are! Came right to me like a present on Christmas morning!"
The woman's sinister orange eyes stay trained on me, but the rest of her body begins to move, circling slowly like a shark in the water. I match her pace, making sure to maintain my distance from her. My gaze stays focused on the woman, but in my peripheral, I keep an eye out for where the gun clattered off to.
"You wanna' know a secret?" she purrs with gleeful malice, "I wasn't helping look so we could catch you..."
Without moving her head, she stops by the door and reaches a hand to it, twisting the lock into place.
"See, Mason and the guide really needed you before, but now, we got this other kid that we nabbed from your compound—although, I'm sure you already know what happened there if you made your way all the way here." Layla snickers with delight.
The rage hot rage inside me flares into a searing white.
"So, since we have this new kid, the Guide should have everything they need for the next harvest. That ultimately makes you worthless to us, huh, Wes?" The psychopath before me slips her walkie from her belt and tosses it onto the desk nearby. "Mason won't be upset with me; I'll tell him it was self-defense. You came in and attacked us, and I couldn't restrain you. I had to gut you before you gutted us."
There's a wild flicker in Layla's eyes. She's a sadist through and through, and she's excited for what's about to happen.
"I've been waiting for this ever since we ran into you and your prissy little bitch back at that bus garage. It's a shame I won't get to kill her, but I am so going to enjoy tearing you open..."
I swallow hard, and then we begin.
Layla lunges forward, but I don't even bother to retaliate. I dive to my right, barely side stepping her as she brings my old knife toward me. She quickly spins around, following her momentum upward and slashing at my gut, which barely misses too as I glance out of the way. She's goes to follow her arm back down again, a blow that I know I won't be able to dodge a third time, so instead I raise my forearm just in time to block hers. The two limbs connect, sending an aching shiver through my bones and stopping her knife inches from my shoulder. Seeing I have an opening, I swing my own blade toward her stomach, but she quickly hops her legs back, resulting in me only catching her shirt and tearing a generous hole into it. With a graceful twist of her knife, she maneuvers it around my forearm and drags it up, slicing a hole through my sleeve and tearing open the marred scar that's already there. With a gasp of shock, I jump back, and so does she. We're back to where we started.
The two of us pant like dogs, circling one another like we did moments ago. When Val and I used to do combat training with one another, part of me had always thought it somewhat silly that we were fighting as human opponents when in reality, we would most likely be taking on monsters when we went out. Who knew it would actually come in handy knowing how a human acts. Layla even fights similar to Val. Aggressive and wild, hard to predict. Layla is clearly more skilled, however, and also hocked up on a drug that makes her much more aware. The other big difference is that we're holding knives instead of markers, and that this fight is no longer a game.
Layla moves forward again, but this time, I'm ready. I expect her to swing at me the same way she did the first time, but this time she doesn't. She just pushes onward as I uselessly dodge back, again. I quickly raise my knife to retaliate, but she sees it coming and reacts too fast, literally catching my hand with her free one and then relentlessly stabbing her blade into me over and over while I'm held helpless. The metal feels foreign and awkward as it slips past my skin and slices through my innards. My guts cry out in alarm as spilling fluids mix that shouldn't. Before the shock wears off and pain sets in, I bring my own knife toward her, but my body is so stunned from being torn apart that it can barely muster the pressure to puncture her jacket. Layla grins savagely at me, her breath brushing my flushed face as she slips the knife in one more time, then drags it upward, giving me a taste of what Nora felt in her final moments.
It's not a pleasant one.
I blink, and suddenly I'm staring at Layla in front of me again, knowing exactly what's about to happen if I continue down the path I'm on. She's too fast and can see my every move coming before I make it. There's no chance I have of beating her unless I find the gun or get some sort of upper hand, so when I see her jolt forward to rush me, I jump as far as I can to the side, then spin on my heals and run to the armory.
"Get your ass back here!" She howls after me as I vault Ron's unconscious body and enter the locker room. All I need is to get around her with a few seconds head start. If I can get back to the gun, all it should take is a well-placed shot to put her down. The problem is, she's still close behind, and the armory is just another big open room with nowhere to lose her. The storage room is not, however.
I dash through the door and into the massive closet, hoping that Layla won't think twice and follow me inside so that I can lose her among the shelves. Unfortunately, she doesn't let her bloodlust get the better of her, and as soon as I'm down the first aisle and look back, I see that she's simply standing in the doorway still, eyes glowing as bright as her smile.
"Good job, kid; now you've got nowhere to run to."
Testing my options, I jog along the wall, looking down the aisles as I go. As I do so, I see Layla meeting me at every other end until I reach the edge of the room. Instantly, I sprint back to the entrance side, but when I hit the last aisle and start for the door, Layla has already beaten me by a mile. I really am trapped. She'll beat me every time, no matter where I go. All she needs to do is wait me out. I could always wait her out, too. Somebody else from the compound is bound to come by eventually. But then, I'd get caught by Mason, and that's a fate that will be my very last resort.
I know I'm not to that point just yet. There's a way out of this, I just need to think.
My eyes frantically scan the dark room, only lit by the helmet. I could so easily use the shadows to maneuver around her if she couldn't also see in the dark. This entire ordeal might have been somewhat manageable if it weren't for the luxuries sundance provides. I need a way to outwit it, outperform it, or get it to stop preforming for her.
That's when it comes to me. A stupid, half-baked plan just like everything else tonight.
I start down the wall again, heading toward the back to where all the ingredient supplies are. I desperately search around for what I'm looking for, thankfully finding it as I pass by one of the last shelves. Concealing it with my body, I slyly grab one of the packages from the rack and swiftly change direction, leaving Layla clueless about my actions as she trails me. I move a little farther, then stop before the vent that I came in at. Once I see Layla reach the end of the aisle, I pretend to fiddle with the cover like I'm trying to open it again.
"What, are you freaking out, kid? What the hell was all that about?" She asks about my strange maneuver. When she realizes what I'm doing, she cackles to herself, "Wait, is that how you got in here? Climbed through the vents like some kind of action movie?"
I pop the vent as if on cue, then look back at Layla before feigning crawling inside. I slip the package in ahead of myself and cut it open with my knife, taking a fist full of its contents into my hand.
"Oh, no you don't." Layla hisses. The edges of the sound map light up red to warn someone is approaching from behind. Instantly, I slip back out of the vent in a fake panic, as if afraid I'm going to be caught.
'Please, God, let this work how I think it does.'
I make it out of the vent and whip around just in time to see Layla no less than two feet away. In a swift motion, she delivers a powerful kick to my stomach, causing me to reel backwards onto my back. She kneels down, and I go to toss the contents of my palm at her, but she must have already clocked that I had something in my hand with the split second it took her to kick me. She pins the arm with a knee before I can even swing it upward. Her other leg jabs down into my hip, holding me in place while she delivers my old blade into my stomach and tears it wide open. I go through all the same pains I just did moments ago before the flash ends, and I'm staring at the vent floor once more.
Not wasting even the smallest second, I yank from the vent and throw myself in the opposite direction of Layla's leg. The kick goes wide, and then, as my back crashes to the floor, I whip the fistful of salt in my glove like a snowball straight into the woman's eyes.
Layla screams in pain, and quickly draws a hand up to clear her vision. I scramble to my feet and prepare to take off running back for the surveillance room, but then realize I may not need the gun anymore after all.
"You fucking bastard!" She shouts before lunging toward me, swinging the knife with reckless abandon. Not quite looking the right way, she misses me when I dodge to the side, and her arm bashes hard against one of the sharp edges of the metal shelves. She instinctively draws the limb into her chest from the sudden pain, and in that moment, as she stumbles slightly to keep herself from falling, I realize I probably won't get a better opening.
The primal urge to survive carries me forward as I dash at Layla and bury my knife just below the center of her ribcage.
I do it a second time as soon as the flash ends.
The woman opens her mouth in surprise, and the pain from the salt in her wide eyes seems to mean nothing to her anymore. With one hand on her shoulder, and the other still on the handle of my knife, Layla drops her own and staggers back, slumping against the pole of a nearby shelf. I follow her down, breathing hard through gritted teeth as a small sense of pride overcomes me. I won. I bested Layla in a fight.
That 'pride' lasts all of two seconds before I realize what that really entails.
Layla chokes and gasps in a way that sounds terribly wrong as her glowing eyes scan over my visor, full of fear and distress.
"Y-You—You just—You... I feel... I don't feel..."
She rambles nonsense as blood pools in her mouth, then spills down her chin. It starts to spatter out in flecks as she coughs. All the while, she stares me down with those eyes. Those horrible, pained eyes. Looking into them, I almost forget about all the horrible things that this woman has done. All the people that looked at her the exact way she's looking at me as she laughed in their face. All the innocent lives taken who were just trying to survive in an already dying world. A sick feeling churns in my stomach as I look down at the knife in my hand, surreally buried deep into another human being's stomach.
"I... I'm sorry..." I mutter, "I'm so sorry..."
Layla doesn't respond. She can't respond. Her eyes do all the talking instead as tears softly flow from them. Something unexpectedly happens that I wish I didn't see. The orange glow, the one that I'd come to know of the woman—the one that separated her from me...
It fades.
For a moment, while life still lives inside of them, Layla's eyes turn back to their normal, human hue, and I'm forced to stare at the un-brainwashed woman in her final, fearful moments before she gurgles her last breath.
The adrenaline and shock finally wear off, and I fall backward, scrambling on my hands to the shelf opposite of the body before me. I stare over at the life I just took, then lay my helmet back against the shelf behind me.
I can't do this...
I don't know why I thought I could. Killing one of the worst of Mason's people is having this much of an effect on me, and I still had dozens more to go. Could I honestly look that many people in the eye as they faded away and then bring myself to get back up and do it some more? Not to mention the amount of my already fleeting energy it just took to even hold my own against a single target. I'm in way over my head. I have no plan, I have no advantage, and I have almost no willpower left to keep pushing. I wasn't like Layla; I didn't find joy in ripping people to pieces. I didn't have the insane reaction time like her. I didn't have a supernatural drug to keep my energy high.
But... What if I could?
My eyes look forward at the corpse before me, then scan downward to her jacket pocket. Within, I can see the dim shine of sundance radiating out, glowing like a pot of gold at the end of a bloody rainbow.
'Wes, we can't...'
I've never gone into the specifics of what happens when one consumes sundance.
According to the records on the barracks computer, it only takes three hours to fully digest a petal of sundance. Once this process is complete, and it begins moving through the intestines and absorbing into the bloodstream. That's when it begins to infect the brain, hijacking the various systems and inducing the mania that's come to grip so many of Mason's men. Unlike other drugs, however, once even a small amount has taken hold, it somehow reproduces itself within the blood, never flushing from the system. It makes the body dependent on it, and soon, pathways and channels of the brain are completely rewritten to accommodate the rose's effects. After that, the host is lost to it, and the symptoms are, as far as anyone knows, irreversible.
For those three hours it's in the stomach, however, sundance does what it normally does, but to a magnified degree. According to the study, the effects of sundance when consumed are five times that of when it's inhaled. If expelled from the body before the digestion period ends, the host can be saved from mania, however, the difficulty with that is the subject rarely wants to have the petal removed by that point. The pleasure of the petal grips them with such intensity that going insane becomes a better alternative than giving it up. Of course, they don't know they're insane. They think that what's happening is good for them.
'Wes, if we do this, even if it helps us clear this compound, there will be nobody to help us after. We'll go insane...'
I crawl over to Layla and fish a few golden scraps from her pocket, despite my brain's protests, then try not to wince as I slide my knife from her stomach. Reaching over her lap, I also pick up my old dagger that had been taken from me long ago. Ripping the mismatched sheath from her thigh, I slot the blade into place, then fix it to myself. As I'm about to walk away, I notice one other thing hooked to her belt. A large ring of keys.
I unhook the set, then stare down at Layla one more time. Despite the intense anger and hatred I feel toward her and everything she did, empathy still gets the better of me, and I resolve to blame it all on the sundance that was gripping her mind. I had no idea who she was before, and maybe this Layla wasn't at all who she once was. After all, I was very quickly about to find out what it was like to be in her shoes...
I return to the armory and check the lock on the gun locker before thumbing through the keys for ones that might match. I scramble through a few to no avail before finally finding one that fits. Swinging the doors open, the rack of rifles stare at me eagerly from their holders, ready to hunt again.
Taking one in my hand, I pop the magazine out to see that there's not much in it, then check a few more before finally finding one that is full. I sling the weapon over my shoulder by its strap, then cross back into the surveillance room. Ron is still bleeding in the hallway, and though I feel dirty about leaving him there, I don't think he's going to get back up. It somehow feels more humane to let him bleed out in unconsciousness than slit his throat while he's sleeping. At least, that's what I tell myself. The feeling of my knife sliding into Layla is still present in my mind, and it makes me sick imagining doing it again.
I search the room for the pistol I dropped, finding it in the corner by the door and holstering it on my hip. I can't help but feel absurd in how I must look right now; two massive knives strapped to my leg and back, a pistol on my hip, and a rifle slung over my shoulder. Top it off with the combat helmet covering my tired, sullen face, and I must look like the most pathetic badass that ever lived.
I take the shell off my head for a moment and rest it on the desk, looking to the monitors as I do so. Mason is still giving his sermon on the screen, and I fiddle around with the controls for a second before figuring out how to get the sound to come through from that camera.
"—so close, my friends. Our deliverance from this world is within reach, and now, all we must do is remain patient for the harvest." The leader drones, "If you think the kiss of the flower is divine now, wait until we feel its full embrace! It shall be unlike anything we've ever known before..."
For the smallest moment, I can't help but wonder if maybe Mason has some sort of strange point. Maybe he's actually somehow right about all of this. The fantasy world that Val and I were stuck in was a much better place than the world we lived in now. If all of this really was some strange ritual to transfer us to there, could it actually work? Would it actually be like what Mason was saying?
Doubt comes swiftly as soon as the thought sparks. Whatever this is, whatever was going to happen, it isn't worth the pain they're causing in their wake, and whoever the guide is could have found a much better way of achieving their goals if they were truly peaceful.
I draw one of the petals from my pocket and stare down at it, its orange glow reflecting in my watery eyes. The thing won't make me think like them, I'm almost sure of it. At the end of the day, sundance is just a strange, alien drug; it simply alters the brain. Sure, a desperate group of people on the stuff brainwashed by the ramblings of a madman might be convinced to follow him. But the pissed off kid who just lost his home, his friends, his family, and the last bit of innocence he had?
I have a feeling my brain won't take to it quite the same...
With no other plan, and with my body ready to give out any minute, I run a hand through my hair, take a deep breath, then pop the petal into my mouth, crushing it with my tongue before gulping it down. Once all traces of it leave my mouth, I reach forward and pull my helmet back on.
'Set a timer,' I command the helm, 'Three hours.'
{Next Chapter}

[Poster]
[First Part] ; [Previous Part]
​
Part 23 - That’s a wrap
​
“I told you to use my name before. And Boss is even less appropriate now,” Shida replied sternly after stumbling a step backwards. However, her bravado was short lived, because she almost immediately curled in on herself, as she crouched down and heavily rubbed her shoulders with both hands, while her breath now released white tufts of steam into the cool air. “Fuuuuuuuck it’s cold.”
Giving that she was clad in a torn and blood-wetted shirt and jeans…the tropical myiat really wasn’t dressed for the occasion.
Chak came up behind her and hugged her with her four limbs. One reason was that she was elated to see her friend back to normal, and the other was to help warm her with her suit’s exterior heating.
“We did it…” she whispered.
“You’ll always be Boss to me…” Doodle said as he looked up from himself, “It’s more kinky that way,” he joked before a wave of seriousness came over him, “I can send you back, as I promised. And I will. The question I feel the need to ask is… now, or later?”
“I’m willing to get out of here sooner rather than later, but my manners are telling me that we should at least say goodbye,” Shida replied, still strongly shivering despite the heat donated to her by the suit. “You can use the opportunity to grab your camera, I guess. Damn social upbringing.”
Doodle’s smile returned as he lifted his hand to wave, but instead he smirked and snapped.
Everyone in a blink of an eye was now sitting in the warm rented house of Dagon. Zithra still unconscious on the floor, awakened with another Doodle-snap.
Sitting up the Manarain locked eyes with the elf.
“You son of a bitch…” he growled before picking up on the atmosphere of the room.
“Sorry. But you really needed the sleep.” Doodle ‘apologized’, “But if it makes up for it, you’re waking up to freedom. When we’re all set with farewells, I’ll be sending you all back to where you belong.”
Zithra looked over to Chak and Shida with his plumes perked.
“Wait… really?” he asked the non-demi-god persons.
“It.. hasn't sunk in quite yet… but yes.” Chak nodded.
“I’m going to go wash off,” Shida announced after absorbing enough of the room’s heat to stand again, skulking over towards the bathroom with her arms still rubbing her shoulders. “I still feel filthy after all this…”
As she walked over, her eyes suddenly got sucked over to a plain object lying discarded in one corner of the room. Stopping for a second, she stared at it.
“Well, would you look at that,” she said with her gaze locked onto the sack of dark material that was closed loosely with a band wrapped around its top. “Looks like I missed a spot.”
Stepping over to give the sack a hard kick that made it roll across the room, she then continued her way into the bath. As she closed the door behind her, there was a moment of a dull,
“What the hell happened here?” being heard, however the destroyed toilet and shrubbery did not seem to bother her enough to make her reconsider her plan of showering.
“I- I texted you two…” Zithra explained, “How long have I been out for?”
“Most of the day.” Doodle replied as he walked back towards the kitchen.
“Wh- what? You made me miss the most important fucking part of this whole thing!?” Zithra growled as he stood and gave chase.
Chak, now relatively alone, stood up and wandered by the couch to look outside through a window. Humans were going about their day, hurrying to get to their preferred streets to watch the parade.
She was more than happy to leave as soon as possible. But… seeing this town now… despite herself she was going to miss it a little. Just a little.
Turning back around she rested on her usual spot on the couch and decompressed. Nothing but whirlwind, finally coming to a stop. Mere hours ago, she thought they lost.
But here they are, sitting in the aftermath of a victory. Despite the sound of the shower running, and the one sided bickering in the kitchen… It felt quiet. Very, peacefully quiet.
-
After contacting Dagon about how the crisis surrounding the entire holiday was at an end, he said he’d be over right as his duties for the parade wrapped up.
The parade itself was broadcasted live on the television and Chak -with a lot of help from Zithra- managed to find it and put it on to monitor. She played with the idea of walking around the town again to see it in person, but she concluded that maybe exposing her alien appearance wouldn’t be the best idea. Perhaps it would be for the best to not mess with this state of victory, and risk causing more trouble. So she decided to simply lightly watch the parade broadcast and keep peeking outside through a window at the more local festivities until they all had a chance to properly say goodbye.
During this, the sassy elf spoke less and less. His black eyes would lose their sense of focus and he’d start to blankley stare at open space. The galactic aetherial space bodies that faintly hover around him gradually grew in intensity during these progressively deeper dips of zoning out.
“Doodle? Doodle?” a Cali’s voice spoke, breaking through to the elf’s awareness.
“Whazzap Princess?” he replied, looking at her.
Chak stared up at the being with concern.
“Are you feeling well?” she asked.
“Feel’n great and sexier than ever, why ya ask?” Doodle answered with a surprised chuckle.
“You… you have something on your face.” Chak informed indicating with her lower limb,
“Tends to happen after-” the elf said, about to make a lewd joke he reached up and touched his face, but what he felt gave him pause.
A crack. One that may have looked small, but he could now sense how deep it ran, and what expanded reaches it traveled down into.
“Well whaddya know…” he said before shrugging, “Don’t worry ‘bout it, it’s all good! Still acclimating and all that.” he reassured the Cali with a thumbs up.
Eventually, after what could only be described as a copious amount of time later, the water in the bathrooms was turned off, and Shida emerged with her body tightly wrapped into a towel as she moved over to her companions.
“So, apparently, the water here doesn’t get heated as you use it…” she informed, hinting at the idea that her ‘Washing off’ would’ve taken a lot longer had cold water not convinced her otherwise.
Glancing at the TV, she took in the parade.
“I still have no idea what any of that means,” she commented on the large number of floats that showed depictions of things that were entirely alien to her. By now, she had an acceptable grasp on anything associated with Christmas, however the other holidays were still out of her ballpark.
The scene then changed, as the feed cut to a completely different camera filming everything from a new angle, and in the background, one could still spot a large amount of people rotting together while raising signs and yelling unheard things at the driving parade.
Shida grimaced, but she wasn’t surprised.
“Guess some people are just awful,” she mumbled quietly to herself. “Christmas Spirit or not.”
“Indeed, but I hope they’ll learn to be better.” the Princess replied as she moved away from the elf and joined in watching.
“Yeah… don’t hold your breath for some of ‘em. Especially the harpy that’s Mary’s mother, eh boss? Heh.” Doodle said as the visage of the nasty woman could be seen among the chanting crowd.
The camera view then changed as a featured float came into focus. An actor clapped his white gloved hands before waving them out over the crowd. His red suit, although with ever so slightly different shades of red, seemed to be well put together. He then placed his hands to his gut and shook it enthusiastically with his bearded mouth ho-ho-ho’ing.
Another angle of the man got much closer to the man himself for the commentators to talk about. Performing his part the red-suited man laughed before his twinkling eyes caught the camera looking at him. With a wink and from him a gentle kind wave the camera transitioned away from him to an overlooking street view that panned over more floats. One seemed to have a disturbingly familiar clear statue of a horned fairy-tale being.
Zithra glared over at the elf.
“I felt inspired!” Doodle defended.
Chak then perked up as an interview came up with a news reporter and Dagon. At his side stood his assistant and Mary with big smiles for the camera.
“-organizers of the parade itself. So how do you think the labor of your efforts turned out? With the controversy around it, I know it must have been difficult.” the reporter said before tilting his device to Dagon.
“You have no idea,...” he initially said in more laughter than voice, “But we’re proud of our contractors and volunteers, shout out to the Flakes’ highschool football team by the way! There was definitely resistance to the change of direction but we stuck to our guns. It’s important that as a holiday parade brings what it promises, and after seeing the turn out I couldn’t be happier. Oh, and shout out to all the wonderful people who I’v met through this process. Folks really stepped up to make this happen and I’m glad to report friendships were made. Ah, and of course my business partner and I would like to say that my assistant Felicia Denver here carried both our weight whenever we had to step away. Without her, this whole thing wouldn’t have happened at all. Seriously a hero in all this.” he said before he started to clap with Mary. Around them and from behind the camera the sound of a dozen or so more people joined in.
The assistant seemed to not have expected that was something as she had to cover one of her eyes with a mitten as she smiled in embarrassed but thankful surprise.
“You think they got their phones on silent?” Shida asked facetiously as she looked at what should’ve been a touching scene. “Maybe we should try it. Piss them off a little.”
However, in actuality, she was glad to at least see them in good spirits. After all, she had been the one basically dragging them through the mud for the past few days, so watching as it all turned out well for them was actually quite relieving for her nerves. However, she wanted to save that sentimentality for when they would actually get to meet and say goodbye, so she deflected it with humor for the time being.
In a ‘lost in thought’ moment, her hand even briefly twitched down to her hip, as if she wanted to rummage through a pocket for a phone to actually call one of their numbers. However, her hand soon had to find that the towel she was covering herself with did indeed have no pockets.
Zithra’s hand lifts up with a devious grin, in it was his own phone. Then with a press on the cracked screen he waited in sheer hope.
Right after the muffled ring sound from his phone goes off, the speaking news reporter is suddenly interrupted by a loud eruption of what Zithra knew to be an early 2000’s edgy alternative rock song. Dagon in a panicked jostle reached into his coat pocket in a brief frenzy to get to his cell phone.
“Sorry-sorry…” he chuckled nervously as he looked down at his screen, “Yes?” he answered.
“We’re watching you on the t.v dude!” Zithra snickered with a thrum, being sure to set his phone on speaker.
“Ooouuuuh, Party Foul!” Shida yelled across the table with an amused chuckle.
“Hi Dagon!” Chak called out, seeing as the intrusion was already performed.
On the screen the human smiled with an open mouth and huffed a laugh.
“Ahah! Sorry, yes out of town folks I worked with are being funny, but hey these guys did so much too.” he explained before turning his own phone to speaker, “Hey everyone, have anything to say to the good people of Flakeville and beyond? Keep it P.G please.” he chuckled before putting the phone up close to the presenting microphone.
“And like that you’ve lost me,” Shida was the first to inform. “I regained my ability to swear just recently, I am not being censored again.”
The news reporter opened his eyes wide, not sure that that could mean.
“Run a clean-mouthed company?” he joked to which Dagon could only shrug.
“You guys have some great food!” Zithra spat out, realizing he’s technically talking to more humans than he ever had at once before.
“Oh, uhhm… The town is very pretty in the snow and all your shops are fun to look through.” Chak said before Doodle leaned in.
“FFFFFFFFFFFFFUUUUU-”
Dagon quickly hung up the phone to a chorus of laughter on the screen as the elf’s voice is cut off.
Not being able to finish his proclamation, Doodle’s voice devolved into a devious giggle.
“Oh that’s for sure gonna be a popular clip on the internet…” he cackled as he slowly paced around the room, having not sat still between his zone outs.
It was soon after that where the interview came to an end and now the screen was filled with scenes of people picking up their things and leaving to celebrate the rest of the eve before the coming holiday. Business seemed to be bustling and the streets were alight with evening festivities. Eventually the coverage itself came to a close and wrapped up the rest of the air time with the usual yearly cycle of the same christmas music.
Chak peeked outside once again to see that the sky was indeed starting to dim. She then brought her phone to the kitchen table and set it down gently. There was no need to hold onto it anymore, considering that after saying farewell they were to leave.
“Gonna get dressed there, boss? Not that I’m complaining mind ya.” Doodle asked the feline with a joking waggle of his no longer existing eyebrows.
Shida chuckled again and crossed her arms in front of her chest while looking away.
“Yeaaaaah, I’m…kinda out of clothes,” she informed everyone. “Unlike Chak, I have no idea what happened to most of my stuff after the costume took over. Probably at the North Pole somewhere, since the sack spat out my gun and phone at some point, but I don’t exactly have access to that now. And apparently, Dagon didn’t keep all too much of his stuff around here since he only planned to stay for a week or so. So since Zithra and I have both been borrowing…we’re out…Also because I lost Chak and my shopping while rescuing her from the police mimics. That’s my B.”
“Oh, well in that case I’ll be right back!” Doodle saluted before vanishing in an eye blink.
After a few moments that nearly reached a minute the elf came walking down the steps from the attic although there was no sound of the attic door opening or closing.
“These yours, boss?” Doodle asked as he carried what looked like Shida’s original outfit before the Santa-suit magic occurred.
Shida moved to meet him halfway, taking a look at the presented items.
“Certainly look like mine,” she confirmed with a nod while grabbing the articles out of his hands. However, she then eyed them suspiciously. “So…what are the chances that you actually just made these and that they’re going to disappear by the pricking of your thumb as soon as I put ‘em on?”
“Uhhhh… Fifty-fifty.” Doodle shrugged, “Am I devious enough to do that? Sure. But do I have the creative foresight to think of such an idea? I certainly hope so! But I won’t count on it.” he winked, and as he did so the small crack on his face extended up and over his closed eye.
Putting her clothes aside for a moment, Shida came a step closer and reached out a flat hand to Doodle’s face, gently pressing her palm against his cheek while she inspected his face.
After taking it in for a few moments, she exhaled in a drawn-out manner and slowly shook her head, making mild clacking sounds with her tongue.
“I told you to be careful with that, Doodle,” she said with a gentle voice. “That really doesn’t look like something that’s supposed to happen.”
“Whatever happens, happens, boss. I’m a cocktail of… well you know.” he shrugged much softer this time, “I’ve been a lot of things, been around for a long time. Whether that time ends or I change into something else… I’m not afraid, and I have no regrets. It’s… exciting actually, as screwed up as that might sound. I can stare into what I can now understand as before the concept or need of ‘meaning’ or purpose. Even nature has these things in their own way, but ‘Doodle’ is precisely that. He as he is has no easy place to be here, and now he’s extending too much so… I’m reeling it in for now. I don’t know what’s going to happen, since Doodle is still me. Let me just reiterate something; Thank you, it really sucked that all of this christmas-spirit craziness happened to y’all, but since it did, I… I’m glad to have met’cha. All of ya. So… yeah, thank you for dragging me out of that sleigh crash and accosting me in that hospital room, heheh! If I had to retire from the Christmas business, I couldn’t think of a better way to do it.”
Shida sighed slightly as she slowly pulled her hand away from his face again. Bending down, she picked up her clothes again, and almost passingly asked,
“So, say Doodle, did I ever tell you the full story of our creation myth? Details are a bit fuzzy on my part.”
“Other than the collection stuff and things being made with other things? Nah, not much else. But I’m all ears!” he replied as his branch-like ears aimed outward, “Might actually be helpful navigating all this…” he added before sitting himself up on a mostly empty shelf, his weight seeming to be nothing..
Shida nodded.
“I thought so,” she confirmed before moving towards the bedroom door. “Come on, you can stare at the wall while I get dressed.”
She didn’t wait for the elf as she entered, immediately closing the door behind her. And as soon as she turned away from it, he obviously stood right in front of her already.
“I mean, I have a feeling that the whole concept of ‘seeing’ might not even matter all that much anymore, but I also think you might just look right through clothes at this point, so I’ll just keep up appearances on principle,” the feline informed while she twirled her finger in a circular motion, indicating for him to turn around.
“Well I technically always could see through clothes, but come on, just because I’m easy doesn’t mean I play easy.” he commented but turned around with his hands to the back of his head, his shirtless back of skin shared his chest’s shallow pattern of knotting wood grain, but now with faint -barely noticeable at all- glowing unknown symbols fading in and out at random, “And… yeah. Uh… the concept of ‘seeing’ really is a distant suggestion at this point. But I am still a man of principle!” he chuckled as he stretched a little.
Shida exhaled slightly as she dropped the towel around her.
“Well, principle might be a good start,” she explained as she began to take apart the stack of clothes looking for the right order to put everything on. “Don’t strap in too much, the story is only like 8 pages long. We myiat write down a lot, but the quantity comes from many stories, never long ones.”
She then inhaled deeply.
“Right, so: Many eons ago, during the time before time, all existence was spread out evenly amongst the cosmos, coating all there was in a constant, thin layer of itself. Nowhere was abundance. Nowhere was empty. All was one and the same.
In this existence in the time before time, things were not as they are today, for they could not be. Water did not run-down mountains, for there were no mountains to run down from. Moons did not circle worlds, for there were neither moons nor worlds for them to circle. As all things were spread evenly, none could interact with each other in meaningful ways. Existence was stagnant.
And in this stagnation, for eternity, lived the first ones, the great collectors. For unknown eons upon eons, they existed in this space, doing things only known to them, for they are unknowable to us. [...]”
Doodle didn’t speak while she explained, which was good because Shida had to concentrate to really remember the story. It had been a while since she had heard it herself, and a lot of it was just repetition about the character of the collectors.
She told him of how they competed in every measure they could think of, before there were no more ways to compete and they had to literally create new ones. One of them being collecting some of the spread existence.
She told them how they could not decide if it was better to collect a lot of existence, or if it was better to only collect a specific existence. And if so, which one would be more valuable than others? And how thus the concept of ‘Controversy’ was born for the first time, since there was something that had to be agreed upon for the first time. And with it also came the concept of ‘Choice’, as collectors could choose which part of creation to concentrate on.
She told him how, after certain existences were taken away, they left a void that others tried to fill. Meanwhile isolated parts of existence were forced to interact with each other for the first time. And thus, time became a thing, as it rushed to fill the void left by matter, but was never enough to fill it completely and thus had to constantly move.
Meanwhile planets and stars were formed out of the collections of the first ones.
She told him of how the concept of Diversity emerged from the chaos and started to even influence the first ones. Of how Guyastai, the creator of Dunnima, was unlike his siblings, because he lacked interest in collecting, ‘Lack’ being a concept that had so far not existed either.
She told him of how he collected more out of a sense of obligation than out of interest, and how he covered his meager collection with water to hide its flaws, although so much stray matter rained down on it that it still stuck out of the cover in places.
She told him of Guyastai’s conflict with his opposite, Daihiyustai, and how he stole her most precious collection, that was so beautiful that even the water of his own tried to get closer to it. He told him of their second fight, and of their eventual conciliation.
And finally, she told him about how the contest ended, as the interacting existence on Dunnima had, after eons, eventually created life. Since his was the only collection to become aware and stare back up at the first ones, Guyastai was declared as the winner of their contest.
“[...] His siblings congratulated him. All, even Daihiyustai, his opposite, admitted defeat. Guyastai accepted with all the grace that a prideful and jealous being could muster in victory, of course, although his pride did take a bit of a hit, as even he felt that he had done very little to earn this victory, which lessened his feeling of superiority.
And after the first ones, the great collectors, had come to the decision, they looked around. Looked at their collections, floating through the vast nothingness their creators had left behind, now deprived of all meaning.
Enormous balls of pure light. Tight balls of condensed being. Polished collections of rare and precious parts of existence specifically collected for them. All now nothing but idle trinkets.
The contest was over. The great collection had come to an end.
And the siblings looked at each other. And existence looked up at them with its newly gained senses.
Guyastai returned his gaze to his collection, his Dunnima, for one last eon, and as a parting gift, he bestowed a name upon this strange ‘new’, this aware bit of existence that now looked back up again.
‘Myiat’: The second people, he called them.
And then he went, together with his siblings, to once again go for unknown eons upon eons, to exist, doing things only known to them, for they are unknowable to us, to find new contests and challenges with their newly gained ideas of diversity, controversy, and resolution.”
She exhaled. At this point, she had obviously long been dressed, however Doodle had remained staring at the wall as he listened to her.
“So you see,” she finally explained with her hands lifted to a shrug. “Basically…creation is nothing, and the first ones were literally just messing around. In that belief, it’s all accidents. All trinkets, left behind after they no longer had any meaning. Calling them collectors is actually a misnomer. The collecting thing was just to pass time, it wasn’t what actually defines them in any way. It just is to us because that is how we were supposedly created.”
“I think I do…” Doodle whispered genuinely, before lowering his hands down into his jean pockets, “It’s difficult to justify ‘Doodle’ existing with it… But there is a sense of familiarity there… the first ones I mean. What they ‘created’ influenced them. Sure, the meanings of those creations parted with them, but… ‘Doodle’ is a meaning given by the created. Things like ‘Doodle’ are what give meaning in the greater absence of it. So maybe the two can coexist… It’s all a matter of perspective and sequence.” he continued as he looked up at the ceiling, surpassing it in his gaze. His features then shifted in waves of who he once was and could possibly be. There’s even a moment where he looked akin to a miyat. Cracks appeared, spread and disappeared all across his body in an even faster repetition.
“The self has no meaning, but the one given to the self, but the self.” his voice spoke in a warbling, “I remain malleable, transfixed to the human imagination but now subject to the miyat’s… what path do I take now? Is there a path at all? Do… I create that path as I stride upon it? I do want to seek out what’s next, the next ‘challenge’ as you called it. The unknown is unknown to even itself it seems in my case. But for now… I’m here and I decide that ‘Doodle’ still has meaning, He- I, decide what that is.”
His body then flickered in and out of existence for a fraction of a second, like missing frames of an animation. He reconstituted, his form the familiar shirtless elf from the back. Turning his head slightly, Shida initially can’t make sense of his face. There’s features, but she had no concept of how to describe what they were. But then as he fully looked back, Doodle’s usual face was smiling. His black void eyes switched to his old Christmas-elf blues to then a distinct Miyat appearance of reddish brown.
Then with a snap of his fingers he aimed at the feline’s torso. Shida’s clothes in fact do not disappear.
“Damn it.” he jested before fully turning himself around to face her, “I still have a lot to figure out. But that helped, I think I have an understanding to use as… I guess a ‘guide’. Thanks, boss.” he said in a tone that did not quite sound like himself, but with a slow nod his voice reverted back.
-
Dagon, who was closely followed by Mary, entered through the front door with bags in each of their hands.
“Great! You’re all still here! Sorry we’re late, the wrap up took longer than expected. We got farewell gifts though!” the man tiredly yet excitedly proclaimed.
“And we didn’t break any more of your stuff in the meantime,” Shida proclaimed, forcing the new arrivals to crank their heads up since she was lounging on top of a relatively high cupboard that stood in front of one of the walls. However, as she was saying it she remembered something and added, “Actually…scratch that, we totally broke your toilet. But Doodle fixed it later, so it’s all good.”
Rolling over, she let herself drop from the furniture, landing in a practiced, cushiony stance on all fours, before pushing herself to her feet.
“Also, I’m not touchy anymore,” she said with a nod towards the two, remembering the last time she had greeted them. “Turns out being possessive of concepts is a rather strange experience to have, and I’m sorry that it made me weird for a while.”
“I’d argue this has been nothing but weird since you told me you were aliens while in that basement. So I’ll happily let it slide with everything else.” Dagon responded as he set the bags down on the kitchen table.
“I still feel like I need to apologize for how I’ve acted. I wasn’t in a good place and I know that’s not an excuse but I really am sorry for making things harder for you. Now that I’m cutting myself clean from my mom for good, I’m going to try and explore who I am. Hell, maybe I’ll decide to change my name as soon as I’m able.” Mary said with a shrug. “Oh… right… Bell was arrested, if you haven’t heard.”
Shida nodded.
“My boyfriend did that name thing,” she explained, completely ignoring anything about Bell, since he really wasn’t on her radar anymore ever since he wasn’t a magical calamity. “Well, technically, he just didn’t change his name with her when his mother took her old one again, but it had the same point…Either way, you’re far from the worst mommy issues we have been dealing with. Don’t get me started on the travesty that is Chak’s girlfriend there.”
Having been waiting to insert herself in the conversation the goat-bug princess waved a lower limb. These two have seen her in this form before, but the majority of the time it was perceived as a ‘costume’ so she still felt slightly exposed.
“Indeed…” Chak had to agree, “I’m very much glad to have met all of you, but I’d be lying if I were to say that I’m not elated to go back to her.” she admitted, “I also feel bad though, I’m afraid I don’t have much to offer in return for your thoughtful gifts.” she added.
Dagon waved his hand.
“I think we all know that you’ve given enough.” he assured before digging out the colorful paper-wrapped boxes and decorated bags from the ones they carried in, “Where’s bat-boi at?”
Zithra who was standing out of sight around a corner released a soft thrum.
“Uhm here… I’m in my scare-humans state right now sooo… yeah…” he voiced.
“Well the first gifts are for you… sooo….” Dagon replied holding up two large decorated winter paper bags.
Reaching around the corner, a manarian tail extended and precisely took hold of the bags before carefully retracting back around.
Sitting himself down on the floor, the Manarain reached in and pulled out a thick, luxuriously soft scarf. It was a similar color to his purple fur, but more vibrant. Next from the back he removed a jar of pickled garlic, a general hunter’s tool set and a small metal framed picture. Confused, he tilted his head but as he read the marker writing on the picture itself he had to wipe his eyes.
“Sorry for breaking into your home and thanks for saving me. I’m going to be okay and I’m going to have a really cool scar!”
The image was of a familiar teenager in a hospital bed. He made a big genuine smile, and at his side was the Sheriff giving a big thumbs up.
“Good luck, kid.” The Manarian said in his silent voice.
Meanwhile the Miyat, Cali and Elf were given their gifts as well.
“Thanks…?” Doodle said as he inspected a big jar filled with assorted candy while already wearing a new t-shirt that simply stated in thick bold lettering; ‘Sex Appeal’.
He seemed to like the shirt quite a bit.
Chak unwrapped her paper covered box with precision and neat unfolding not actually trying to tear the paper.
In it, was a new set of kitty-earmuffs that, although didn’t suit a Cali’s ears, she still placed them on without a second’s hesitation.
“Thank you so much!” she chirped before going back into the box to find… snacks? A simple but wide assortment of small human packages of premium options, “Oh… I’m afraid I don’t think I can have most of these but I’m sure my finance will love trying them- oh I can have this one though!” She excitedly pulled out what is usually considered a novelty, but to her, the lightly flavored and toasted insect in a package looked great to try. Though she didn’t know what a ‘cricket’, ‘grasshopper’ or ‘mealworm’ was… it held some visible familiarity to Cali cuisine.
In the meantime, Shida had used a single claw to cut an entire side of the package open, allowing the thusly freed square of packing-paper to fall to the side, as it briefly danced through the air with crinkling sounds.
“I swear to the stars, if this is catnip or a ball of yarn, you two have something else coming…” she commented before she fully looked inside.
Within was just one folded up article of clothing. There was the glimmering reflection of exposed metal from the kitchen light now casted down upon it.
“I… may have been inspired by something Chak said while you were unconscious. Hope it fits!” Dagon said before he started to collect the gift paper remnants into one of the bags to toss later.
Lifting the entangled mass of chain out of the box, Shida held it in between two fingers while she studied it.
Then she turned towards Mary with a lifted eyebrow.
“Okay, based on my experiences with humans, I’m sorry but I have to ask this,” she said with amusement. “Did you get this from a fetish shop?”
“Uhhhm… not a ‘fetish’ shop, I mean… not really. It was a more general place… in that realm I guess. But… I mean… It’s not like we have cornerstore blacksmiths around here with things like that, so… Yeah I had to get a little imaginative with finding that.” May both explained and defended.
“James always says I look like I just walked out of a fetish-shop when I dress fancy,” Shida chuckled as she unfurled the article of chain, hoping that it wasn’t made too much to human specifications, otherwise there would be a very awkward, empty bump at her chest area where human women would have a bit more filling. “Should I try this on? Or would that be awkward for you?”
She gave Mary another teasing look, figuring that her defensiveness at the topic made her a rather welcoming target. Also, she didn’t even need to look at Dagon to know that he would likely already be turning red by now.
He was such a, as Simone called it, ‘church-boy’.
“Please do. Not awkward at all.” Mary shrugged as she doubled down, “It should fit you alright. It’s just… not the norm around here. Which is fine, I’m in no position to make any judgments.”
“Wait… does that go over your other clothes or…” Dagon inquired as he cleared his throat.
“Nope,” Shida said, already in the process of taking the jacket of her uniform off again, right before using both hands to pull her shirt over her head. Immediately, Dagon and Doodle had exactly opposite reactions, as one quickly tried to avert his gaze while the other looked on in interest. However, as the feline had freed herself of the shirt, she gave the elf an almost condescending glare, as her chest area was still covered by a thick band of elastic fabric that clung onto her tightly. “Well, not above all clothes,” she clarified with a laugh. “But nobody wants chains on their chest directly. It chafes horribly.”
“Nothin’ wrong with a lil chafing…” Doodle grumbled to himself.
Mary swallowed hard and cleared her throat and scratched at her cheek.
“No offense of course… but how the hell did the ‘christmas spirit’ even deem you as ‘Santa’ material…” she commented before noticing Dagon now pretending to check his wrist watch.
“Given that you were staring at my abs as you said that, I’ll take it as a compliment,” Shida explained while she started to put the shiny work of metal onto her body, fidgeting a bit with it since it was made in a bit of a more awkward form than she was used to from articles like these. “And if I knew how anything worked, I would’ve had a lot less trouble the last days. Since it can neither have been for my body nor my jolly nature, I guess I was just the first person it ran into or something. Maybe Chak was out of the way when she opened the sack.”
“You were also the one steering when you hit Santa…” Chak proposed before tossing a grasshopper in her mouth, her eyes fading from a recent intense glow.
“Hey, bat-boy! Want some candy?” Doodle called out as he walked around the corner, “Check out this shirt. Accurate amIright?” he teased, followed by a long drawn out sigh of a manarian thrum.
Chak began to place her gifts in a spare bag to carry before walking over to the humans, giving them Cali-grade hugs. Both hesitated a bit, just from the new experience alone but returned them with earnest smiles.
“Thank you again for the gifts. It really was a pleasure meeting you. But… I think it’s time. Shida and I have very important business to attend to back home, and people who must be worried sick for us. I wish you two the best in whatever future you find yourselves in. And I hope you have a wonderful holiday tomorrow. Hopefully it can be enjoyed even after everything that had transpired.” Chak farewelled.

Hi there ! I'm Axel, aka BigDud from The Dud Workshop, a passionate DM who produces all kinds of third party content for your enjoyment.
Today, I bring you the full set of items called The Vault of the Eternals, themed after four thematic figures : the Trickster, a improvisational thief and con-man ; the Conqueror, a ruthless commander with endless ambition ; the Sage, a secluded purveyor of knowledge and wisdom ; and the Hunter, a deadly slayer of foes and folk alike.
These twenty magic items, from Uncommon to Legendary rarity, are perfect rewards for your players to find in ancient, long-lost ruins, or in the hands of less-than-savory individuals. Perhaps they can even find the Trickster, the Conqueror, the Sage and the Hunter themselves to claim their artifacts directly !
The bundle includes the following items :

• The Liar's Gleamer
• The Cards of Fate
• The Lock'In Key
• The Imposter's Canvas
• The Treads of the Echo
• The Dread Banner
• The Gauntlets of Subjugation
• The Chains of Interrogation
• The Warden's Lament
• The Mark of Conquest
• Cauldron of Epiphany
• Lantern of Illumination
• Arcane's Whim
• The Gazing Sanctum
• Half-Staff of Foresight
• Wildsight Lens
• The Camper's Retreat
• Emergency Raintree Seed
• Last Breath Venom
• The Slayer's Shiftblade

Print the cards, stick them together, and you're ready to go.

Get the whole package at once on my website, with the link below.

The Vault of the Eternals

or alternatively use these Imgur albums
The Trickster's Toolkit - IMGUR
The Conqueror's Arsenal - IMGUR
The Relics of the Sage - IMGUR
The Slayer's Cache - IMGUR
Card Dimensions : 63 x 88 mm (euro poker size) + 3 mm bleeds. I recommend printing on thicker paper -- e. g cardstock -- and in full color for the best visual result and comfort of use.
All art was made by BigDud using Krita, Midjourney and Photoshop.
If you liked the cards, check out my website at thedudworkshop.com, and some of my recent posts :
Scorcher and his buddies - 3 Hot and Single Elementals in your area
Claims from the Planes - 15 planar-inspired magic items
Thank you and keep your eyes out for more content like this !
Here is the text from the items, for those who just want that :

The Trickster's Toolkit

The Liar's Gleamer

Wondrous item (coin), uncommon
A coin, but much more than a coin as well. Originally minted as part of Kuchari's first batch of gold coins, and intended to fund the purchase of ships to protect their waters, this coin was stolen by the kobold Qirk before it reached the public. After passing through a hundred hands, it made its way to "the Trickster", who enchanted it for unlawful purposes.
Adaptable. When pressed against another gold coin, the Gleamer takes its appearance. It returns to its normal form when its owner says its chosen command word.
Trickster's Luck. When flipping the Gleammer, its owner can mentally choose which side it will land on. The coin's sides imperceptibly shift to accommodate the chosen result. Creatures observing the coin flip can make a DC 20 Perception check to notice this enchantment.
Minor Animation. The owner of the Gleamer can spend ten minutes attuning it to another coin, turning the latter into a magical object. While a coin is enchanted in this way, it becomes a Tiny construct, indistinguishable from a normal coin until activated.
As an action, the construct's creator can command it to activate, causing it to grow small arms and legs, and gaining the ability to see through the sides of the animated coin by looking through the Gleamer's sides. The construct obeys its owner's mental commands, and is able to accomplish simple tasks like opening a pouch, sliding under a door, or hitting something to make noise. Once activated, the construct remains active for 10 minutes, after which its arms and legs disappear, and it returns to being just a coin.
Only one coin can be turned into a construct at the same time. Once this feature has been used, it cannot be used again the Gleamer has spent a night in a pouch full of gold coins.
"It's your lucky gold ! Don't put this one in your pocket, or it'll get mixed with the others and become just a coin. Which it is." - The Trickster to a confused patron (946 p. C)

The Cards of Fate

Wondrous item (cards), consumable, rare
Three cards from this deck are part of an enchanted set, long lost to time and spread across decks in the entire world.
As an action, you can tear a card in half, triggering its effect. Each card has two different effects that respectively activate if the card is torn while facing up or while reversed. Face-up effects target the carrier of the cards, while reversed effects target other creatures.
Unless specified otherwise, once a card has been activated, it disappears, taking the place of the same card in another tarot deck, somewhere else in the world.

The Hermit :

Insight (Facing up). You can mentally ask up to three questions about a creature, location, or item you can see. The DM offers a truthful, yet cryptic reply, which might be a short poem, a saying, or an omen.
Isolation (Reversed). A creature of your choice within 60 ft must succeed on a DC 20 Charisma saving throw or be teleported to an empty pocket dimension for the next minute. While in the pocket dimension, the creature cannot be harmed nor affected by spells or other magical effects, but are incapacitated. At the end of the duration, the creature reappears in the closest unoccupied space to where it was before it was teleported.

The Chariot :

Determination (Facing up). You are cleansed of all conditions and magical effects affecting you, positive or negative. If an effect would render you unable to take actions while you hold the card in your hand, the card activates automatically at the start of your turn, cleansing the effect.
Confusion (Reversed). A creature of your choice within 60 ft must succeed on a DC 20 Wisdom saving throw or become confused for the next minute, as if it was affected by the Confusion spell. The target doesn't remember being affected by this effect.

The World :

Guidance. You learn of the safest path leading to a location or creature of your choice on your current plane of existence, that you know the name of. For the next year, as long as you remain within the same plane of existence as the destination, the path appears visually in front of you, guiding you towards the destination, although no other creatures can see it. If reaching the destination would require acquiring an artifact or the help of another creature or entity, you learn of their whereabouts, and the path leading to them. Once you reach the destination, the effect ends.
Homebound Curse: A creature of your choice within 60 ft becomes cursed by the card. The creature becomes bound to the area in which the effect was created. This area is at least a square mile in size, and is generally defined by having its own name. It can be a specific plain, a mountain range, a forest, the surroundings of a lake, a large city, or even a particularly massive estate.
While bound in this way, the creature cannot leave the area without facing struggle, such as suffering terrible weather, having their possessions break down, being hunted by beasts in the night, or constantly getting lost. The further they go from their bound location, and the longer they stay out of it, the worse the struggle gets, until they are eventually slain one way or another.
This card does not disappear into the world when used. Instead, it disappears to reform somewhere within the binding area, in a location of import, which can be a noble's safe, an ancient tomb, the hoard of a dragon, or a similar location. Until found by the cursed creature, the card remains inert, appearing as a normal tarot card to all but the cursed creature. The cursed creature can remove the curse affecting them by finding the card and touching it, which dispels its effects. When they do so, they are magically informed of the previous carrier's name, appearance, and location.

“In life, one must accept the cards they’re dealt. At least, most people have to. Personally, I prefer to cheat.” - The Trickster, hopping out a window after a successful game of cards.

The Lock'in Key

Wondrous item (key), rare (requires attunement)
The Lock'In Key can be used to create magical locks, or open magical doorways. Each of the key's functions can be used once, after which it must be recharged by leaving the key within a mundane lock overnight.
Lock In. As an action, the key can be pressed to any opening or container, which can be a door, a window, a gate, a chest, or another similar object, locking it with arcane power. It becomes impassable, unopenable, and cannot be destroyed until the effect is dispelled.
Only one opening or container can be locked at a time. Attempting to lock a second opening or container while one is already locked in this way causes the former effect to be dispelled.
The effect can be removed by forcing the lock open (DC 30 Strength check) or by dispelling its magic (DC 25 Arcana or Dispel Magic check).
Skeleton Key. As an action, the key can be inserted into any surface and turned, opening a phantasmal door and creating a magical hallway behind it. The hallway traverses that surface in a straight line until it reaches the nearest empty space, where it stops. The hallway is large enough for a Medium creature to move through unimpeded, and a Large creature to crawl through.
Removing the key from the surface it was inserted in makes the hallway disappear, pushing all creatures still within it to the nearest unoccupied space.
"The right words can open doors for you, or turn them into walls. Choose them carefully… or just use the window." - The Trickster to his apprentice (959 p. C)

The Imposter's Canvas

Wondrous item (canvas), uncommon
A simple, inconspicuous and unframed canvas, slightly smaller than the ones used by imperial painters. Its surface exudes an otherworldly sheen, like a reflective pool, that captures the essence of creatures painted upon it. While not in use, shifting images ripple across its surface like distant echoes of forgotten faces. A powerful tool, dangerous in any hands, especially talented ones.
While holding this canvas, you can make a Deception check and spend one minute observing another creature, and reproducing its traits upon the fabric. If you spend one hour making the portrait instead, you have advantage on this check. Creatures proficient with painter's tools gain a +5 bonus to this check. Once you've attempted this check, you cannot target the same creature with this ability again for the next 24 hours.
When the portrait is complete, the creature's image animates upon the canvas. As an action, you and any number of other creatures can then touch the canvas to infuse yourself with the observed creature's essence, changing your appearance and physicality to match it. You take the creature's appearance, matching its size, visual features, smell, and voice, but retain all your other characteristics. The more successful the Deception check to paint the target's image, the more accurate the disguise appears.
On a 20 or higher, you perfectly copy the target's appearance, and appear undistinguishable to the naked eye.
On a 15 to 19, discreet changes are visible to those familiar with the target, such as slightly misplaced scars, one too many teeth, or other easily overlooked mistakes.
On a 10 to 14, moderate changes are visible to all, such as missing or additional fingers, miscolored hair, a wrongly pitched voice, or other relatively apparent features.
On a 9 or less, the disguise is highly inaccurate, and looks immediately recognizable from the original target.
After touching the canvas, you remain disguised for one hour, after which the image disappears from the canvas, and all creatures having taken the target's appearance return to their original appearance.
"In the grand theater of deceit, observation becomes your backstage pass. Look carefully, my friend, and act quickly, for the best performers leave the audience with more questions than answers." - The Trickster to his apprentice, before the Heist of the Second Act (963 p. C)

Treads of the Echo

Wondrous item (boots), requires attunement, rare
Cloud of Mirrors. As an action, you can choose a point within 30 ft, creating a 10-foot wide illusory cloud at both the chosen location and your current location. As part of this action, you may swap your position with one Large or smaller creature within 10 ft of the chosen location.
The clouds last for one minute, lightly obscure vision, and hide the identity of all creatures within them, making them appear as shifting shapes that cycle to match the appearance of each creature. When activating this ability, you can choose any number of creatures, which are immune to the effect and see through the illusion.
Creatures attempting to target another creature within a cloud with attacks, spells or abilities, must make a DC 20 Perception or Investigation check. On a success, they recognize which creature is which, and can choose their target normally. On a failure, they must choose their target randomly between all creatures inside a cloud.
This ability can be used once, regaining its charge on a short or long rest.
Doppelwalk. As a bonus action, you can activate the boot's enchantment, creating an illusory double of yourself in a location of your choice within 5 ft of you. The double is indistinguishable from you, but cannot take actions other than moving, and is destroyed when you or it takes any damage, or when you attack or cast a spell. While the double is active, it automatically mirrors your movement and voice, going the opposite way as you at all times, as long as there is a clear path for it to do so. The double cannot move through objects or creatures.
Creatures attempting to target you with attacks, spells or abilities must make a DC 20 Perception or Investigation check. On a success, they recognize you from the double, and can choose their target normally. On a failure, they must choose their target randomly between you and the double.
The double lasts until the end of your next turn. While it is active, you can use a bonus action to swap your position with the double, destroying it.
This ability can be used twice, regaining its charge on a short or long rest.
"Every stride a riddle, every misstep a dance with the unknown. The fool may leave footprints, but the master leaves only echoes." - The Trickster's Musings (981 p. C)

The Conqueror's Arsenal

The Dread Banner

Wondrous item (war banner), rare (requires attunement)
Emboldening Presence. When rolling initiative, other creatures allied with the wielder and within 30 ft of the banner can add the wielder's proficiency bonus to their initiative rolls. In addition, their speed is increased by 10 ft until the start of their second turn in combat.
Aura of Dominion. As a bonus action, the wielder can plant the banner in the ground, releasing a wave of commanding energy which enhances the morale of allies and strikes fear into the hearts of enemies.
For the next minute, allies of the wielder starting their turn within 30 ft of the banner gain temporary hit points equal to the wielder's proficiency bonus, and have advantage on saving throws against being frightened until the start of their next turn.
Additionally, enemies of the wielder starting their turn within 30 ft of the banner have disadvantage on the next attack roll, ability check or saving throw they make.
This ability can be used once, regaining its use after a long rest.
Destructible. The banner has 15 AC and 30 hit points. If it reaches 0 hit points, it becomes inert, disabling its Emboldening presence and Aura of Dominion. The banner automatically reforms after a long rest.
"Let the quake of our step warn them of our relentless advance. Let them run, and hide, or stand and fight. No matter : they will bend before us, or they will break." - The Conqueror, to his troops, before the annexation of Girao (1051 p. C).

Gauntlets of Subjugation

Armor (plate gauntlets), requires attunement, very rare
Aura of Dominance. While wearing these gauntlets, you have advantage on Intimidation checks.
Dominating Grasp. As an action while wearing these gauntlets, you can attempt to grapple a Large or smaller creature within 5 ft of you. On a success, the target takes 4d6 psychic damage, and becomes dominated by you until the end of your next turn. The dominated creature regards you as a trusted superior during this time, and obeys verbal commands you give it to the best of its ability. The creature does not obey commands that are directly harmful to it without purpose, such as "jump off this cliff", or "swim through this lava", but will accomplish dangerous tasks with a purpose such as "fight this enemy" or "cause a distraction". After the effect ends, the creature becomes hostile again.
You can use this ability once, regaining its use on a long rest.
If a creature dies from the psychic damage of this ability, their corpse remains active for one round, behaving as if they were still alive, but under your control as if they were dominated by you. You also immediately regain a use of this ability.
Heave. As a bonus action while wearing these gauntlets, you can make a contested Strength (Athletics) check to attempt to heave a Large or smaller creature or object within 5 ft of you towards a direction of your choosing. On a success, the creature is tossed 30 ft in that direction, stopping if it encounters a creature or object of the same size or larger, and taking 1d6 bludgeoning damage for each 5 ft of distance remaining.
You can use this ability twice, regaining spent uses on a short rest. If you kill a creature with Dominating Grasp or Heave directly, you immediately regain all spent charges of this ability.
"One needs no diplomacy when strength alone can command obedience. When in your hands lies the power to shape destinies and forge empires, all you have to do is clench." - The Conqueror, after the sacking of Thurissos (1063 p. C)

Chains of Interrogation

Weapon (whip), heavy, two-handed, requires attunement, rare
Reach. These enchanted chains have a reach of 15 feet.
Scorching Metal. Attacks with these chains deal 1d4 + your Strength modifier bludgeoning damage and 1d6 fire damage.
Binding Chains. You can use these chains to attempt grappling a creature within 15 ft of you, and creatures grappled in this way have disadvantage on Strength (Athletics) checks to attempt breaking the grapple. You can only grapple one creature at a time with these chains.
Demand Truth. As an action while grappling a creature with these chains, you can activate their enchantments, searing the mind of the creature to force them to answer your questions. The creature must succeed on a Wisdom saving throw of DC = 8 + your proficiency bonus + your Charisma modifier or become charmed by you for as long as it remains grappled. While charmed in this way, the creature cannot move, and must answer your next three questions truthfully, answering with a short phrase or at least a pertinent word.
Once you've used this ability on a creature, whether or not it succeeded on its saving throw, it becomes immune to the effect for the next 24 hours. Creatures that succeed on their saving throw by 5 or more become immune to this effect indefinitely.
"Like a conquered city, in my grip, truth is laid bare. Speak, soldier… your fortress of secrets is breached." - The Conqueror to a prisoner of war, during the siege of Pyrias (1078 p. C)

The Warden's Lament

Armor (plate armor), requires attunement, very Rare
Enchanted Armor. You gain a +1 bonus to armor class and saving throws when wearing this armor.
One Man Army. While wearing this armor, you gain resistance to bludgeoning, piercing and slashing damage from non-magical attacks when at least three hostile creatures are within 5 ft of you.
Additionally, when a creature misses you with a melee attack, you can use your reaction to attempt disarming them and gaining control of their weapon. Make a contested Strength (Athletics) check contested by your Strength (Athletics) check. On a success, you choose to drop their weapon at your feet, to toss it to an unoccupied space within 30 ft of you, or to equip it if you have hands free to do so.
Onslaught. As an action, you can activate the armor's properties, becoming an unstoppable force for the next minute. While this ability is active, you gain the following benefits :

• Relentless Advance. You can move through other creatures' spaces without spending extra movement. If you've moved at least 15 ft during your turn, when you enter the space of a creature at most one size larger than you, it must make a Strength saving throw of DC = 8 + your proficiency bonus + your Strength modifier. On a failure, it is pushed 15 ft back in the opposite direction of the direction you moved into its space from.
• Overwhelming Force. When you hit a creature with a melee weapon attack or a melee spell attack and deal more than half its hit points in damage, the creature is knocked prone.
• Ruthless Execution. When you hit a prone, paralyzed, stunned, or unconscious creature with a melee weapon attack or a melee spell attack, you can roll the damage dice twice and take the higher result.

You can use this ability once, regaining its use on a long rest, or after having claimed a location of importance as your conquered land. This can be a small city, a fortress, a mountain pass, or another economically, strategically, religiously or culturally significant and named location.
"Rejoice, denizens of this conquered realm, for you are not prisoners but pioneers. The Conqueror's Dominion awaits your undying loyalty, but in return, together we shall weave the fabric of the greatest empire known to history." - The Conqueror's Herald, on the grand plaza of the capital of Ariath (1081 p. C)

The Mark of Conquest

Wondrous item (crest), requires attunement, legendary
The arcane art of land-marking is an esoteric practice, shrouded in mystery and mostly only wielded by entities of great natural power, such as hags or celestials. Able to subtly or drastically alter the nature of a region, transforming landscapes and altering the lives of its inhabitants, this form of magic is shunned amongst arcane practitioners ; misuse is frequent, and often leaves scars in the land that never truly heal.
Yet, to this day, the origin of the Conqueror's Crest remains a mystery. Unlike its more visible counterparts, the crest only minimally alters the physical landscape on which it is placed ; it's impact on its inhabitants, however, is profound.
Leave a Mark. As an action, while near an important landmark of a conquered area, such as a city hall, the peak of a mountain, or another similar location of significance, you can activate this crest to leave a Mark of Conquest. The Mark appears as a magical symbol of your faction, and provides you with influence over the conquered area, marking it as yours, granting you authority over it, and protecting it against your enemies.
Ward of Supremacy. The mark is protected by a magical barrier from those who would attempt breaking it. The barrier has 20 AC, 50 hit points, and is immune to fire and cold damage, as well as bludgeoning, piercing and slashing damage from non-magical attacks. If the mark is destroyed, a devastating shockwave of magical force radiates from it, dealing 25 (10d4) damage to all creatures within 300 feet.
Eversight. As an action, you can focus on any mark you've laid, allowing you to see and hear as if you were physically present at its location.
Tyrant's Resilience. You gain additional maximum hit points for each area conquered and marked with this crest. These benefits stack with each other, but only the first ten conquered locations of each type grant benefits to you.

Village : 1 maximum hit point (maximum of 10)
City : 1d4 hit points (maximum of 10d4)
Region : 1d8 hit points (maximum of 10d8)
Country : 2d8 hit points (maximum of 20d8)
Continent : 50 hit points (no maximum)

In addition to these abilities, the mark also affects the area in which it was placed.
Demoralizing Aura. Whenever a creature that is hostile to you and has an intelligence of 6 or more finishes a long rest within an area affected by the mark, they must make a DC 15 Wisdom saving throw or become frightened of you until the end of their next long rest, or until this effect is removed with a Dispel Magic spell or a similar ability. While frightened in this way, the creature cannot approach within 1000 ft of the mark's location.
Edict of Command. As an action, you can issue a shared and compelling command to all creatures of your choice within the marked area. Each creature must make a DC 15 Charisma saving throw. On a failure, they must obey your command for the next 8 hours to the best of their ability, as long as the command cannot directly result in significant harm to themselves. For example, asking for creatures to work at a sawmill, despite the likeliness that some will suffer minor injuries, is acceptable ; asking for commoners to hunt a dragon, or other extremely dangerous tasks, causes the effect to end.
Eternal Conquest. If you would die while inside a marked area, or outside such an area but within 10 miles of its borders, you are instead teleported to the closest mark's location, where you appear with hit points equal to half your hit dice. The mark then shatters, breaking the influence of the crest over the area, and the crest becomes inert for the next month. Other marks placed in other locations as well as their Ward of Supremacy and Demoralizing Aura remain functional, but the crest cannot be used to lay new marks, or trigger Eversight, Edict of Command or Eternal Conquest until it becomes active again.

The Relics of the Sage

Cauldron of Epiphany

Wondrous item (cauldron), uncommon
The scholar sees not the just the ink on the page, but the spaces between the words ; like music itself, the melody of silence tells stories beyond words. It's in those quiet intervals, where the pen hesitates and the parchment breathes, that the symphony of possibility unfolds into its final, unspoken state : truth.
Insight. By filling this cauldron with water and herbs, then setting it upon a lit fire, you can start a 10-minute ritual to commune with yourself and open your mind up to a new understanding. When you start the ritual, choose two pieces of information related to characters, factions, locations or events that you have learned about or witnessed, as well as what you hope to learn from them.
You make an Investigation, History, Religion, Survival or Insight check to delve into your accumulated knowledge, reflecting upon what you know, and establishing a new connection between the two pieces of information. The GM decides the difficulty of the DC : 10 for logical connections that are easy to make, 15 for connections requiring a leap of logic or the understanding of nuance, 20 for connections requiring obscure and obtuse reasoning.
On a success, the GM provides you with a new piece of information or a clue relevant to the knowledge you are seeking. This information can take the form of a short phrase, a mystical vision, a piece of dialogue, or whichever form makes the most sense for the character performing the ritual. On a failure, the GM presents you with a question or implied question, the answer to which will guide you toward the information you were looking for.
Once you've accomplished this ritual, you cannot do it again until the next week.

Example : Player : "I want to understand the connection between the religious cult hidden in the city and the broken statue we found in ancient ruins a few sessions ago."
GM, after a successful Investigation check : "As you inhale the cauldron's vapor, your mind drifts into your memories of the cult and the ruins, what you've learned, what you intend to learn. Suddenly, it clicks : you remember the statue's broken state, how it felt off. It wasn't broken down by time, but suddenly, violently. You see a slowed vision of the statue breaking, its bust falling onto the ground and shattering, and the blade which cut through it. Unique in its make, marked with a symbol that left that strange groove upon the remaining stonework, a symbol you recognize, which only one man could have left... a smith with the longevity to learn how to work enchanted steel, and the pride to mark even the most vile of his creations. One you ordered armor from, three days ago."
GM, after a failed investigation check : "As you inhale the cauldron's vapor, your mind drifts into your memories of the cult and the ruins, what you've learned, what you intend to learn. You attempt focusing on the ruins, finding any detail that would provide you with a lead, but your thoughts are scattered, your mind hazy. If there is a link, you lack the information to make sense of it. Perhaps, if you understood why the temple fell, you might have a better idea of where to look…"

Lantern of Illumination

Wondrous item (lantern), requires attunement, rare
A captivating glow emanates from the yellow crystals contained within this lantern, softening any shadows with its warmth. Crafted from a delicate copper alloy, the lantern's metal surface is smooth apart from a few, minuscule openings, from which small pieces of ember exit to float in the surrounding air ; when the lantern is focused, these ephemeral fireflies converge in the light, forming luminous trails on the retinas of those looking too closely.
Light Source. While unfocused, the lantern shines bright light in a 20 ft radius, and dim light for an additional 20 ft. The lantern can be closed as an action, turning off its light until it is opened again. Alternatively, the lantern can be focused, changing the shape of its light from a 40 ft sphere to a 20 ft cone.
Revelation. While within the lantern's unfocused light, illusions created by spells of 5th level or lower, or similar effects, are revealed to you as if you had succeeded on an Intelligence (Investigation) check to discern them.
Blinding Focus. As an action, you can focus the lantern's light into a 20 ft cone, rendering it blindingly bright for the next minute. Each creature starting their turn inside the light or entering the area for the first time in a turn must make a DC 15 Constitution saving throw. On a success, they are blinded until the end of the start of their next turn. On a failure, they are blinded for the next minute. At the end of each of their turns, they can make another Constitution saving throw, ending the effect on a success.
Creatures with darkvision have disadvantage on this saving throw. Creatures can willingly fail this saving throw by looking directly at the lantern's light. Creatures blinded by the lantern cannot see normally, but can see invisible creatures and objects as if they were visible.
You can use this feature once, regaining its use on a long rest.

Arcane's Whim

Wondrous item (scroll case), very rare
An elegant scroll case, adorned with intricate symbols representing the ever-changing nature of knowledge, and the endless quest for understanding. It feels light and empty, yet rattles with the sound of folded paper, as if containing an entire library's worth of scrolls. Perhaps it's simply waiting for the right reader, or the right situation ?
Time of Need. As an action, you can open this case and think deeply about your current situation or an imminent obstacle or problem to attempt conjuring a magical scroll. When you open the case, you can choose to utter the name of a spell, or to remain silent.
If you choose to utter the name of a spell, you must make a Charisma or Wisdom check of DC = 10 + twice the spell's level. For example, if you call "Fireball", the check's DC becomes 16. On a success, a scroll appears within the case, containing the chosen spell.
If you chose to remain silent, the case instead provides a spell scroll of the GM's choosing. The spell chosen by the GM provides an advantage in the current situation or with regards to the imminent obstacle or problem you have thought about, although it might not always be the most straightforward solution.
Once the case has been opened, it becomes inert until the carrier's next short rest. The case cannot provide the same scroll twice in a row. The scroll provided by the case lasts for 24 hours, after which it disappears. If the case is opened again before the scroll it created is used, the scroll disappears, and a different one appears within the case. If the case is opened again while an effect from the scroll's spell is still active, the effect immediately ends, and a different scroll appears within the case.

The Gazing Sanctum

Wondrous item (mirror), very rare
An elegantly crafted mirror of moderate size, surrounded by a smooth yet simple wooden frame. On its back, silver lining creates the depiction of an ever-growing tower, mysterious and welcoming. The mirror's surface constantly shimmers, making it actually terrible for its intended use.
Dimensional Pocket. The mirror contains a pocket dimension, which can be accessed by passing through the mirror. The pocket dimension contains a small island which floats in a calm ocean ; a garden, ripe with all kinds of fruits and vegetables, expands from the edge of the island towards its center, where stands a simple tower.
Safe Haven. The tower contains basic amenities for up to 10 people, including rooms and the food that can be harvested from its garden.
Library of Experiences. The tower also contains an empty library, with a ledger at its bottom. Up to 10 creatures can write their name upon the ledger at one time, which binds them to the tower.
Each time a creature registered on the ledger reads a book, hears a song, is shown a combat technique or experiences a similar learning moment, a copy of that experience is transferred to the library ; it takes a form suitable to the experience, e. g a history book, a music sheet or an illustrated training manual. There is no limit to how many of such media can be contained within the library, and the tower extends vertically to add more space to it if necessary.
After a copy is created, any creature visiting the library, whether their name is registered or not, can access it and learn from it as they would with a normal book, music sheet, or training manual. Time passes five times slower for creatures learning from the library, allowing them to gather large amounts of information in a short amount of time.
Copies are maintained within the library until the registered creature's name is erased from the ledger, or for up to one year after their death, after which the name disappears, and all experiences copied to the library disappear.
Exiting the Mirror. Creatures can pass through the mirror again to exit the pocket dimension. When they do so, they can choose to either exit to the mirror's current physical location, or to exit at another mirror. Creatures choosing the latter exit through another mirror of the GM's choosing, prioritizing mirrors placed in libraries or places of learning ; once they've exited the tower, they must find the original mirror again to enter it once more.
Breaking the Mirror. The mirror has 10 HP and 10 AC. If the mirror is reduced to 0 hit points, its surface shatters, and it becomes impossible to access its pocket dimension until it is repaired. Creatures within the pocket dimension can still exit it, but must choose to exit through another mirror rather than the original one. If the mirror remains broken for a year or more at once, all names within its ledger are erased, and all information contained within the tower disappears.

Half-Staff of Foresight

Weapon (quarterstaff), requires attunement, rare
Carved and sculpted by the monks of Mrao as a sign of their advancement, these short, one-handed staves were earned upon their creator upon completion of their rigorous training and teaching. Held by their center, they required a particular technique to be used correctly, which took decades to learn to its full potential. Each unique staff would follow them along their lifelong journey of learning, and remind them of an important lesson in sculpting, fighting, and living : when striking wood, the chisel carves also the mallet.
You gain a +1 bonus to attack and damage rolls with this weapon. Additionally, this weapon can be used as a spellcasting focus.
Adjust Balance. The staff has three charges. As a bonus action, you can expend one charge and gain the ability to alter fate slightly. Roll a d20 and record the number rolled. Until the start of your next turn, you can replace any attack roll, saving throw, or ability check made a creature (other than you) that you can see with this roll.
You must choose to do so before the roll, and you apply additional effects to the creature whose roll you've replaced depending on the number rolled. You cannot affect your own rolls with this ability.
1-8 : The creature's next d20 roll is made with advantage, regardless of other sources of advantage or disadvantage.
9-12 : The creature's next d20 roll is a single roll, regardless of other sources of advantage or disadvantage.
13-20 : The creature's next d20 roll is made with disadvantage, regardless of other sources of advantage or disadvantage.
The recorded roll must be used before the start of your next turn ; if it is not, it disappears at the start of your turn, dealing 1d6 x your proficiency bonus as force damage to you. The staff regains expended charges on a long rest.
Unfortunately, I can't quite fit the items of The Slayer's Cache into the post, so you'll have to check the bundle or the imgur albums to see them. Sorry ! If you've read this far, thank your for your time.

Sanders emphasized that the United States cannot continue to pay the highest prices worldwide for prescription drugslers that have been on the market for decades12. He highlighted the stark price differences between the US and other countries. For instance, GSK charges $319 for its Advair HFA product in the US, compared to $26 in the UK. Similarly, Teva charges $286 for its QVAR RediHaler in the US, while it costs just $9 in Germany. Boehringer Ingelheim prices its Combivent Respimat at $489 in the US and $7 in France1.
Sanders emphasized that the United States cannot continue to pay the highest prices in the world for prescription drugs12. The investigation aims to hold these pharmaceutical companies accountable for their pricing practices12.
www.loonmd.com

Chapter Eighty One: Legacy of a Thatch Part 3
Chak presses herself tighter against her Terran lovingly as the room watches them tenderly dance together to the song Simone wrote. In a deep inhale she takes in the Terran’s new perfume and the natural scents she has come to adore. Trying to not look like she is feeling up the redhead in front of everyone, the Cali can’t help but notice something else about the woman’s body as her lowers explored a little..
“You’re a bit denser than normal… Are you tense? We don’t have to dance for too much longer if you’re uncomfortable” Chak whispers. Being in quite the opposite state, Simone opens her eyes and lets her mind process what the Cali just asked.
“I’m all good hun. I think you’re just noticing that I’m back on my usual workout routine. Wasn’t easy after becoming a parent to two, but I’m almost back to where I was when we first met. Gotta be at my best until this is over, you know. And plus… I kinda wanted to look my best for you today.” the Terran answers .
“Your abs do make my head light and twirly…” Chak giggles softly, “But just know that whether you're dense like rocks or soft like pillows I love you all the same. You will always be my big strong Terran, that’s a promise.”
‘You say that, but just wait till I hit a hundred. I have a sneaking suspicion that old age is gonna hit me like a freight truck.” Simone counters in a chuckle.
“That won’t change a thing.” Chak counters in an adoring tone, “Because you’ll still be the woman I met in that bar, and the same woman who did so much for not only me, but our family and friends. Simone Thatch will still be Simone Thatch.”
The redhead’s smile widens.
“I guess that’s true. And at least even when I’m old and decrepit I’ll still have those sexy hips to admire.” she chuckles deviously while her hands slide down the Cali’s sides to the hips in question, “Even better though, is the lady who owns ‘em.” Chak’s eyes flash as she has to remind herself that literally everyone in the room is watching them right now. But mercifully, Simone lifts her hands back up to their usual dancing positions.
“Do you think we’re the first Terran-Cali married couple?” Simone asks.
“Oh, it unfortunately wouldn’t surprise me if we are. Though we’re certainly not the first to be in a relationship if those forums I researched through were of any indication.” Chak responds. Siimone huffs a laugh and nods in agreement as her eyes catch the table where their kids sit at.
“In case if I haven’t told you yet, you’re a damn good parent. To both Essjay and Jamie. I appreciate you so much.” she informs tenderly. In response Chak rubs the side of her head against her wife’s shoulder.
“I didn’t expect to raise a family so soon in life I’ll freely admit, but doing so with you has been a lovely adventure so far and I can’t wait to continue it into our future. Though… I believe two kids are more than enough for me. Not that I won’t turn down another if the situation arose… but… this is perfect for me.” she replies.
“I could have another two, but I get it.” Simone assures in amusement, “Two is perfectly fine for me too.”
Soon after their private conversation draws to a close, their song comes to an end followed by a few other people coming in to join in the dancing to the next song.
After a few rounds of dancing and general partying as the energy of the music increases, two catering assistants haul in what seems to be a fair-sized cake, though not absurdly large as Simone expects from the media she’s previously watched. Yet from a distance it’s clear theres a lot of fancy detail put into it.
Once the cake is fully settled on the empty end of their long table the brides depart the dance floor and approach it together with the others gathering to get pictures.
“What kind of cake is it?” Simone asks, reflexively pulling her own hand away from the impulse to sneak some frosting.
But it isn’t necessarily the self reminder to hold off on it that stops her, rather it is that she fully sees what the cake is decorated as.
A representation of a fantasy Terran castle adorned with decorative Cali homeworld flora complete with glowing edible dyes. It’s like an impossible medieval Terran structure built on a far away world.
It crosses her mind that the cake may seem ‘improper’ for a wedding reception and better suited for a twelve year old’s birthday party, but Simone finds it too awesome to give a shit. It’s their wedding, their rules.
“The larger base is carrot cake for Terran-preferred consumption-ion, the rest is a Cali-safe kul dew base-ase with the highest quality ‘carrot cake flavoring’ I could-uld procure.” Seven informs.
Simone’s eyes widen as she looks it over at all the intricate carved stonework, windows, doors and ‘plants’.
“You made this, Seven!?” the redhead asks in amazement.
“I baked the cake and helped-ped prepare the frosting. However-ver it was Troy who did the artistic decoration-ion.” the bot replies pleasantly.
“It was down to the wire too! But we got it done!” Troy adds with a big grin, “Chak said she wanted something ‘King Aurther-y’ so I did what I could with the time I had. Consider it another personal wedding gift to ya!”
“Carrot cake is really, really good…” Meekie chitters in anticipation, clearly having had samples during the cake’s creation, “It tastes nothing like Terran carrots…” Simone eyes Troy while shaking her head.
“You're wasting your potential on bounty hunting I swear…” she compliments. The man can only shrug at that while Seven puts down a cake knife down for the brides to take.
“Alright… I understand that we cut this cake together… but do we simply feed each other with forks or do we smush whole pieces into each other’s faces? The tradition seems to go either way from what I could tell.” Chak questions as she picks up the knife.
“The smushing tends to be more of a prank-thing. But if you want me to, I’ll be sure to clean up the mess…” Simone teases as she comes right up next to Chak and reaches a hand to hold the knife as well.
Wrapping her other arm to hook the Cali’s waist to press up against hers, Simone fought a smirk at Chak’s flashing eyes.
“Ahem… feeding is fine.” Chak assures as she finds herself looking ever more forward to their honeymoon plans.
“You got it.” Simone winks with a light squeeze before looking up to the others to make sure everyone is ready to capture the moment.
Then together they aim for an upper wall in a section they knew that they both could eat from. Chak guides them precisely in their downward cuts while Simone makes sure that said cuts are clean and fluid. Chak then raises a small plate with her free hand before they slide the piece onto it.
Placing the knife down the Cali heard her Terran huff a laugh of subtle air right in her ear, causing her to well up in loving admiration. Hearing Simone restrain such joy in something so simple made both of Chak’s hearts trip over each other.
By all of Klat’s sins, she loved this woman so damn much.
With two small forks, each bride attains a carved chunk from the slice and mutually raises them so that they now look directly at one another.
Both are compelled to say something in that moment, yet before their brains can think of something original or profound they prevent each other from concluding their thought process with the exchanging insertions of delectably moist cake and frosting. Of course it tastes amazing to Chak and pretty decent to Simone, but neither dwell in the flavor for long as their lips converge together before they can finish their respective bites.
By the time they only slightly pull away there’s no more cake between them.
“So it’s pretty good then?” Thorn chuckles aloud, causing a minor uproar of laughs. Blushing and actually finding herself out of breath Simone nods.
“Damn good.” she eventually says as she cuts another slice, curious over the Terran-intended parts.
They then step around the table and sit back down in their seats while Seven took over cutting up slices for all who wanted one. Even Essjay and the two Watath brothers accepted slices from the upper half of the cake since it’s perfectly safe for them to have as well.
Jamie of course is given a healthy serving that’s attacked in a similar method as his earlier meals.
Once everyone is settled down and well into their servings of cake, Donna walks over to the gifts and thumbs over at them as though to say ‘you ready for these?’.
Chak returns a nod and bounces in her seat.
Not missing a beat, Donna turns to the rest of the space.
“Alright everyone, the brides will now be opening gifts. But if you missed what I asked before the wedding started; if your gifts are of an adult nature please let me know now so I can mark them with a pink tag. Those will be opened at a later time. I believe I have them all tagged, but if you are now realizing you misunderstood what I meant this is your last chance to get it properly marked.” She announces.
As Donna surveys the guests, Simone looks over to suddenly realize that most of the gifts are marked with those pink tags… Burying her face in a hand she shook it unsure how to feel.
“Are you alright, Simone?” Chak asks in a whisper.
“Yeah… I’m now realizing just how our friends and family see us…” she half-jests.
“Oh…” Chak says as she looks over at the gifts as well, “I see what you mean… but at least they know we’ll have some humorous fun opening those up together.” she admits in a giggle.
“I hate to say it… but yeah you’re right.” Simone agrees before Donna walks over with the first gift.
“This first one is from Meekie and Nodrin.” Donna informs the room. The gift is wrapped like a package with perhaps a bit too much tape, and as Chak tries to open it as respectfully as possible a Gratt voice calls out.
“Tear it to shreds!” Meekie encourages.
Chuckling Chak gracefully pushes the wrapped item to Simone for the honors. Without hesitation Simone amplified her juvenile savagery to the max as she tore up the wrapping. To the Gratt’s and Jamie’s immediate glee it is absolutely decimated as Simone threw tape and wrapping material up and behind her with reckless abandon. Within the package however are a few items cushioned by a handmade woven blanket.
“Nodrin made that!” Meekie informs.
Holding it up, Simone shows the light intricate Gratt designs upon the dark blanket. It’s all very abstract and has an oddly comforting strong medicinal smell to it.
“Not certain if there’s a direct translation, but it is a Gratt calming blanket. You fill with beads and warm up. Ancestors will then protect you.” Nodrin explains.
“Ahh, like a weighted blanket!” Simone realizes, “That’s awesome!”
“Thank you, Nodrin!” Chak says before picking up one of the things that the blanket cushioned.
It’s a painted cylindrical metal container. Correctly positioning it, Chak carefully opens the end with a cap and looks within before being immediately surprised by the strong aroma that matches the blanket.
“Oh, and this is something you apply to the blanket itself?” the Cali asks.
“Yes!” Nodrin confirms, “Troy says it’s much like Terran lavender.”
“And these are from Meekie I’m guessing?” Simone says as she lifts up two crystal dagger handles.
“Yes! Love mine! Thought you can find them useful too! Those not as big as mine though, much sorry!” Meekie replies.
“That’s fine! Thank you guys!” Simone assures in a laugh before setting them down, “I suppose it’s about time we got you one of these too.” She redirects at Chak, “I’ll teach you how best to use it later, eh?” she adds with a wink.
“Oh, yes. I certainly can’t rely on my pulse rifle for every situation.” Chak agrees. As those gifts are set aside Donna comes back with another gift.
“This is from Bree and Avery.” she announces. At their table Bree bounces Avery and whispers into his ear excitedly telling him that they were opening his gift to them.
Taking this one, Chak opens the envelope style present and carefully pours out the flat contents. First is a datapad followed by several crayon drawings on paper. The Cali takes up the pad while Simone goes through the drawings.
“Oh my… Bree this is so generous… thank you!” Chak says before showing Simone that Bree has given them several VIP status cards for prominent restaurants and clubs at CSH.
“You’re welcome! I know since your royalty you already have an in with those kind of places, but if that ever changes or if anyone you know could use ‘em you now got ‘em for sure!” Bree replies.
A bit teary eyed, Simone in return shows off the drawings to Chak. Though the quality is what one would expect from such a young Terran child, the contents are incredibly wholesome. One especially which is has writing above three roughly depicted smiling figures.
‘I hop me and Jamee and SJ will be gud friends!’
“Oh my goodness…” Chak mumbles happily.
“Thank you Avery! We hope so too! Essjay loves to draw too!” Simone pleasantly says to the kid who smiles, but immediately hides his face in his mother’s shoulder.
“This is from Jen and Duke.” Donna says as she places a fist-sized rectangular box in front of the redhead.
Still keeping the drawings close to show her kids later, Simone takes the bow off the otherwise unwrapped box and clicks it open to see a fully custom case and storage for specific movies. Inside is a collage of characters and quotes from the movies with a small plaque at the bottom describing exactly what the contents are.
A hand immediately presses to her chest as her heart skips a beat.
“No… way…” she utters before standing from her seat to address Bree’s parents, “This isn’t a joke, right? This is fuck’n real?” she asks.
“No joke! What you have right there is a copy of the most intact copies of the original trilogy of Star Wars. Some of it is pretty scuffed and there’s minimal use of A.I reconstruction, but it’s quite the collectors item amIright?” Duke informs.
“I dressed up the storage and case that we got to store them on, I hope you enjoy!” Jen adds with a waggle of eyebrows.
“Thank you so much!” Simone says as she sits back down practically fawning over it before setting it aside.
“We are certainly watching those later.” Chak says as she pats Simone’s back, knowing those movies were her wife’s father’s favorite.
“I’m so glad gift giving isn’t a competition… That’s pretty cool.” Donna says before placing down a bigger but far softer package, “This is from Jackie, the girls and I.” Nodding, Simone and Chak pull apart the thin wrapping and reveal two simple nearly-matching sweaters. One being for a large-framed Terran while the other a Cali.
“The girls picked them out for you!” Donna says before leaning closer, “Jackie and I also got you a pink tag gift.” she adds in a hushed winking whisper.
“These sweaters are pretty cool!” Simone says before fully lifting it to view what’s on it.
‘I LOVE CHEESEBURGERS!’ is boldly written on hers and a bit confused she turns to look at Chak’s before fully understanding.
‘I’m Cheeseburgers.’
“Okay… yeah no, these are legit amazing…” Simone amends with much more sincerity.
“Want to put them on now?” Chak giggles.
“Fuck… yes. By the fucking stars hun I love you.” Simone replies quickly starting to fit hers on.
“I’d hope so…” Chak laughs as she also fits her sweater on, “Otherwise these wouldn’t be truthful.”
Now having a hand on her chest, Donna shook her head in both amusement and appreciation to personally know these two dorks.
“And… that’s it! The rest are pink tagged.” she recovers, “Y’all really really want this honeymoon to go well eh?”
The room explodes with laughter with Chucknuq dominating it all. Weala raised a grasper and erects his posture up for attention.
“To be fair our gifts are not ‘adult’, but they are better suited to be opened at a later time. The rest of you however…” he hisses in continuing laughter.
Simone shook her head but then found her eyes locking on Vin. Lacing her fingers she gave him a smugly questioning raised eye tuft expression before glancing at the gifts. She clearly sees one from him and by the time her eyes fall back to him he is using a mitten to hide his face from her.
“Deviants indeed…” she mumbles to herself before freeing the poor man from her smugly judging stare.
-
As the reception comes to its end and kids sleepily dangle on their buzzed -and a few brownie high- parents goodbyes are starting to be shared amongst each other but primarily to the newlyweds.
Simone brushes the back of Jamie’s head as he clings onto her. Despite looking forward to what comes next she feels guilty having to hand the boy over to Brandy. But not before smoothing his face with a storm of kisses.
“We won’t be gone for long kiddo. Promise. You and your sibling be good to auntie Brandy, alright?” she says before passing him along. He accepts it, but clearly only because of how tired he is.
Simone then turns to Chak where she was saying farewell to Essjay before their departure.
“Remember that Brandy is the babysitter, you keep an eye on Jamie but have fun. Alright?” The redhead says to the small Watath.
Essjay nods before bopping their face against Chak’s then Simone’s before skittering over to their babysitter.
“You two have fun now! Remember that we’ll be just a call away if anything happens.” Brandy says with a nod as she takes the kids away. With one of his twins in his arm, Jackie walks up and quickly holds out an access keycard for a rover.
“She’s all yours. Had my best people tune her up to her best.” he says as Simone accepts it, “Want me to rush back and help load stuff up?”
“Thanks, and it’s all good. Seven is helping us out with that.” the redhead assures.
“Roger that.” Jackie grunts as he adjusts his sleeping daughter before taking his leave.
Duke and Jen with a slumbering Avery in Duke’s arms then approach.
“It was so nice of you to have invited us. Simone. This was such a lovely ceremony.” Jen says.
“Oh of course, I wouldn't have thought to not invite ya.” Simone says as she shakes their hands, “I know what you did way back when was a bribe-thing for Bree’s sake, but I really appreciated helping me ease into my first day too. Speaking of Bree… where is she?” she then asks at the nearly empty space.
“That Ellie girl?” Duke says in a soft tone to not disturb the child in his arms,
“Well Bree politely offered to walk her and her grandmother back to their unit.” he explains.
Chak opens her mouth to comment that Jet actually has her own separate unit, but upon realization silences herself before a word can escape.
“Duke and I have our work to return to, but I think Bree and Avery may still be here by the time you return. She hopes to set up a playdate with your kids.” Jen further explains.
“Ah, that sounds great! Well it was nice seeing you two again. Hopefully we can see each other more often now that Bree and I reconnected.” Simone says with a wide smile.
“Absolutely. Take care you two!” Jen says before giving them both a quick friendly goodbye hugs. Once they were relatively alone, Chak takes hold of Simone’s hand in hers.
“Shall we find our carriage madam knight?” she teases playfully.
“Sure thing, my Princess…” Simone teases right back before heading off to snag Seven for their assistance.

\- 

Simone activates the locking mechanism of the rover’s door and walks over towards the front driver’s seat and readies it to begin their honeymoon journey. Impressed, Chak eyes the well arranged relatively small space in the main section of the rover. There’s a small kitchen unit across from a small dining space with an extendable table. Next to it is a door that presumably leads into a lavatory-shower combo. Then looking above where Simone currently sits, Chak noticed a small loft-like area where she can see is meant for sleeping and resting.
Her mind wandering, the Princess observes the fact that there’s cabinet storage in every opportunity that this place can possibly be capable of. That makes sense considering this was meant to be a temporary livable space away from civilization.
“I’m assuming these rovers are meant for more than ‘newlywed traditions’?” she asks as she casually inspects several cabinets to take stock.
“Yep. Though they are mostly still recreationally used these days.” Simone answers as she fires up the engine and sends the ‘ready’ signal to the bay door operator, “These were initially used for surveying and prospecting on site, though once shuttles were much more accessible here, they really haven’t been of much use with that stuff. Some folk even straight up call ‘em ‘campers’ because that’s basically what they’ve become. Sometimes families or couples would rent one of these and just live in ‘em for a few days while traversing this lil’ asteroid.”
“Oh, should I rent or purchase one for our use? We are planning on going on that camping trip after all.” Chak points out. Simone tilts her head in thought.
“Well… this one is meant for low gravity environments and the Gratt homeworld -especially for you- would be the opposite. Though this does have one of the best smaller artificial-grav systems… which may be the most important thing for us while we’re there… Huh… maybe we could get one of these then. We’ll ask some people smarter than us about it later.” the redhead says in a chuckle as she watches the bay’s atmosphere decompress and the door eventually start to lift open.
Chak wanders to a passenger seat next to Simone and sits herself down.
“So, do you know how this wedding tradition started?” she inquires before SImone begins piloting the rover forward and out into the contrasting white-gray surface and black tar filled sky above.
“Not really… though it makes a lotta sense. Terran honeymoons are like a vacation away from everyone else, you know, just so those who’ve been hitched get their own personal time to kick off the rest of their lives together. And since not a lotta people here can really afford to leave for very long, this is a great alternative. A trip around the asteroid, with nothing but each other, the rover and the vacuum of space just outside.” Simone responds as she turns and pulls up the predetermined path that they are going to take for the trip, “Some older folk joke about it being a ‘test’ to see if the couples can really put up with one another, but the trip really isn’t that long. Especially when autopilot is engaged during sleep-hours. We should be back at the colony in just under two standard days.”
“I could spend weeks alone with you, love.” Chak giggles.
“I don’t know hun… I can be quite the pain sometimes, even you have your limits of how much ‘Simone’ you can tolerate.” the redhead chuckles back.
“Nonsense… You’re my happy place in this entire universe. I could never have too much of you.” Chak counters as she rests a hand on Simone’s thigh, “Though now I must ask; is there a limit you can tolerate me?” she questions in a coy manner.
“Hmm… not answering that…” Simone jests before lowering a hand to hold the Cali’s,
“Regardless, we’re in this together, no matter where we end up.” she promises sincerely.
Chak turns her hand over to directly embrace the Terran’s, their tattoo-rings glowing as bright as the other.
“I believe that more than anything.” she whispers.
…
The two share their initial travel time together in relative silence as the rover departs further and further from the colony at a decently fast pace.
Once they turn around a rising cliffside and start to delve down a path between two sheer walls of asteroid mountains, Cali’s hand on Simone’s thigh begins to massage it.
Needing no further que, Simone activates the autopilot and turns in her seat to passionately lay her face into Chak’s.
After a few heart racing moments Chak stands and pulls off the Terran’s sweater as she does so. Draping the garment on her now open seat she moves forward nestles into the Terran’s lap with her legs dangling on either side of Simone’s.
Simone smirks as she helps lift the Cali’s dorky sweater free as well, leaving the two in their party dresses.
“It’s official…” Simone utters as the Cali cradles her red furred head with lower arm limbs.
“It very much is…” Chak replies with admiring direct eye contact.
“The Central news media is gonna have a field day with it… and I can only imagine what your people’s old politicians are gonna think…” Simone remarks with a softening chuckle as she starts to get lost in her wife’s glowing red eyes.
“I don’t care what they think, they can scream like hatchlings for all I care. This is where I want to be, you are who I want to be with. And that’s final.” Chak says as she brushes her upper arms claws through the Terran’s fur.
“Hell yeah…” Simone whispers while she reaches her hands under Chak’s dress, “You’re really hot in a dress, you know that?”
“Oh… so are you. It’s almost a shame that you’ll be taking it off soon…” Chak replies as her fur begins to illuminate. Although her dyed fur is dimmed by comparison to her untouched white, it still manages to glow with a slight tint.
Simone shrugs slightly as she coyly looks away.
“I mean… going to pound town while still in a dress sounds…” she drags on to gauge how the Cali feels about it.
The Princess blinks almost blankly as the concept sinks into her horndog mind.
“Let’s get to the bed…” she states in an order as she plants a hoof back to the floor and stands, “Now.” Without another word Simone quickly gets up as well and is led by the hand out from the driver bay and up the steep side steps up to the loft, which is little more than a flush soft mattress surrounded by a flat surface. As Chak swings around to te steps she swiftly snags their trust bags of bedroom items before making her way up. Although it accidentally turns into a ‘sexy’ thing, Simone raises a.hand on the Cali’s rump as she ascends ahead of her. She initially did so because she is too concerned that the steps are slightly perilous for her wife’s hooved feet, though after doing it causes Chak’s fur to fully glow to its max potential.
Crawling up into the loft, Simone hardly has enough room to not scrape her head on the thankfully padded ceiling as she sits upright.
At the front end is a rectangular viewing port that doubles as a media screen if desired. Though at the moment the only thing that can be seen is rocks and the road ahead.
“Lay down, love.” Chak instructs as she pats the space next to her while she fiddles though her bag.
“Just a sec…” Simone replies as she crawls forward and activates the media screen to block the view port. Probably near zero chance of anyone catching a peek, but something about being isolated like this somehow jabs at her paranoia of exactly that happening.
Then laying horizontally from the screen she brings her arms back behind her head. Arching her back just a little bit she strikes a subtle sexy pose for her wife. As Chak removes what she was looking for and gets ready to ‘set up’ she glances at Simone, finding herself pausing at the sight.
“Like what you see hotstuff?” Simone says with a raised eye tuft.
“I love it…”Chak agrees as her fur dims ever so slightly along with her graying eyes. Realizing the Cali is crying, Simone sits up and wraps a hand around the back of Chak’s head and pulls her close.
“You okay?” the Terran asks lovingly.
“I… I love you so much… I…” Chak whispers in a staggering cry, “How can I possibly be this happy after everything? Shouldn’t I feel bad? That my family is gone and yet I get to be this happy? I’m so sorry, I don’t know what’s come over me… I… oh dear… I’m married. And I’m so happy about it! It’s now just hitting me how happy I am to be here, with you, after everything-”
Simone pulls Chak into an embrace and holds on for as long as the Cali needs to get the bulk of the needed crying out.
“Chak, If there's one thing being with you has taught me, it’s that I’m worth loving and that life is worth experiencing that love. We’ve both been through a lot, so fuck the universe for a minute and lets just focus on us. We deserve this, and each other. Even now it’s hard for me to accept that I deserve you, but I’m choosing to believe that I do because you believe I am. That’s more than enough for me. You are exactly what I need and so I’ll do my damndest to be everything you need.” Simone tenderly whispers before gently pulling and rotating them both until she lays Chak down while she straddles above her.
Chak’s breathing deepens as she takes in Simone looming over her.
“Okay.” she manages to agree while feeling her legs numb a bit in a way she hasn’t felt since first seeing Simone in this manner, “Sh-should I put on my suit?” she asks.
Simone glances over at the bag before returning to Chak. Reaching down she takes away what the Cali still held and takes control of its use.
“Not yet. This is a very special occasion, so this time… You’re just going to have to trust me…” the Terran says with little else than the alluring rasp of her voice while she carefully spreads the Princess’s legs, “Would you like that?” She then questions with a smirk.
Chak’s eyes are practically blinding the redhead with how much they’re beaming.
“Y-yes, very much…” she replies in little more than escaping air.
“Then open up…” Simone says as she puts the item aside.

EDIT.
Thanks to everyone who read and commented. I didn't expect so many people to read this; it's terribly long.
A lot of you are being very encouraging and understanding. Thank you for that.
Many of you are asking why? Why am I even with this asshole? Why have I put up with it for so long? I should know this is all unacceptable, should've dumped him long ago, and so on.
I think this is something a lot of people deal with when in bad relationships. Things don't necessarily start off bad. In my own case, things started off great. After he moved in, there were annoyances here and there, but at the time I chalked it up to being due to the adjustments having to be made living with a new person. Living with another person is tough. So I thought many of the inconveniences would dissipate over time.
Things gradually progressed until they became identifiable patterns. My exhaustion grew; my unhappiness increased. Over time, I found myself getting upset and annoyed in his presence. I could feel my blood pressure rise when he walked into the room.
At first I asked myself what it was I could do to change things. To make them better. I asked myself if I was the problem.
Things were allowed to get to this point because it's not always obvious what the source of the problem is.
I typed this all out and posted it because it was therapeutic on some level. I also needed feedback from others to make sure I wasn't crazy. I needed to make sure none of this was normal. (Now I know a few of you will jump on that statement and tell me I should KNOW none of it is normal. It's hard to untangle feelings from logic from memories from manipulation. Having to pick it all apart can be confusing.)
I *did* break up with him, after bringing up these issues multiple times. And of course, he claimed he only had good intentions. I was misinterpreting everything.
As a quick UPDATE to the situation:
I broke up with him a few days ago. Since then, he's been avoiding being home. He only comes home at night to go to sleep. He has not harassed me for sex for the past two nights. He and I had a "conversation" last night, at his insistence. Apparently, he is doordashing for extra money (as of yesterday) and believes this is all just a big misunderstanding. A hiccup in our relationship. He also believes that there is "someone else," that I dumped him because I'm interested in another man/talking to another man. This couldn't be further from the truth. I'm not sure if it's getting through to him that I'm unhappy because of our relationship, not because I want to run off with someone else. It seems easier for him to blame some nameless, faceless "other man," rather than take responsibility.
Again, thank you everyone who has read and commented on this post.
_______________________________________________________________________________________
My boyfriend moved into my house a little over a year ago (previously, we had a great relationship). Since then I've grown to absolutely hate him. I feel on edge, stressed out, agitated, ready to retreat, angry, and uncomfortable whenever I see him or when I'm in the same room as him.
I have spent the past few months trying to figure out why. Initially I blamed myself (maybe I've suddenly become a miserable and crotchety person?), but I believe I have a multitude of reasons for feeling the way I feel.
Here, in no particular order, are the reasons I hate my boyfriend:
Reason # 1
Up until only the past month or so, but only after I repeatedly had to lose my everloving shit on him to finally get him to listen and acknowledge my discomfort, he would constantly (4-7x/week for about a year) nag, beg, coerce, guilt and shame me for sex. Every.Single.Night...as soon as I would go to the bedroom at night to go to bed, he would immediately start grabbing and ripping my clothes off, while demanding sex. He would aggressively paw at me in the most unappealing way imaginable. (And the thing is, I love sex. If my body doesn't feel completely destroyed from a long, work-filled day, I usually want to have sex.) And I would recoil because oftentimes the yanking and grabbing and tearing my clothes off was really uncomfortable, and in a few cases, painful. In fact, he pulled something in my back from grabbing me by the shoulders and yanking me around while trying to forcefully take my clothes off. It took months to heal.
So when I would cringe and try to physically distance myself from him (because I would feel overwhelmed and bombarded), he would immediately begin with the nagging. "Oh, so I guess we're not fucking tonight? Why don't you want to fuck me? Why? Tell me why? Why don't you want to have sex?" At this point I would be so turned off, I would decide (even if I originally wanted to have sex) that I would prefer to engage in any activity BUT sex with him. So I would tell him "no, I guess we're not having sex tonight." Then he'd ask "why?" "Why? Why? Why? Why?" I would tell him I simply wasn't in the mood (which was true, because I'd lose the desire to have sex after being manhandled and then asked in a weird, almost accusatory, nagging way if we weren't fucking.)
Then more "why's" would follow. Then he'd keep going. Nagging. Begging. Telling me if I didn't fuck him, his entire next day would be ruined. He'd tell me he didn't believe I wasn't in the mood, and would demand to know the "real" reason why. He'd accuse me of wanting other men. Etc., etc. THIS would happen during the majority of nights out of a week. I would oftentimes just give him what he wanted, just so I could get some peace and quiet. If I didn't give him what he wanted, the nagging and harassing would go on for HOURS. I would look at my phone occasionally. 11pm. 12am. 1am. And every time I would feel devastated, knowing I had to be up early in the morning, and knowing that I would feel like garbage due to being kept up so late, all because he demanded to know WHY I wouldn't have sex with him.
On a few occasions, he would throw temper tantrums and stomp around and tell me he was leaving the house.
What was once a love for sex (on my end; always loved it), became having sex just to get him to leave me alone and let me finally sleep at night.
I've never in my life experienced this sort of behavior surrounding sex, and I've never in my life been so turned off by someone. Over time, I grew to resent him, mainly because he ruined the joy I always found in having sex with a partner, and also because my sleep and restfulness had suddenly taken a nosedive. My days became more exhausting, more unbearable, more tiring (and I'm an extremely busy person, with a mountain of responsibilities; I cannot afford to not get proper rest).
After a few months of this, I had started to feel stressed out before bedtime. I would hesitate to go up to the bedroom to go to sleep, because he would LITERALLY sit next to me on the couch and WAIT for me to begin walking upstairs so that he could run up and follow me and start his bullshit with the demanding and nagging for sex. It became a conundrum for me: I'm exhausted and I need to go to bed, so I want to go to bed, but I also know if I go up to bed, I won't be getting any sleep.
​
Reason # 2
When he moved in, I realized that the rent he was paying at his old place was half the amount I pay at my place. And I didn't want to break him financially, so the agreement was for him to pay what comes out to 1/3 of the rent here. And that's perfectly fine by me.
That being said........
Only up until this past month, he has not bought any groceries for the house BUT he eats an insane amount of food. Oftentimes, while he's drunk/drinking, he gets the booze munchies and rips through the cabinets and refrigerator. A lot of times I would come downstairs in the morning, begin making coffee, etc., and find a bunch of empty food containers, packages, bags, boxes, etc. of brand new stuff I had just bought that was meant to last at least for the week (until my next shopping trip), but was now gone.
What's worse is that at no point did he ever think in his head "wow, I just ate all of (insert food item), maybe I should go to the store and pick some more up so that my partner can have some." No. Not at all. Never. The first time I brought up my frustration with the matter (in the very beginning), he was like "oh, you told me I could help myself to whatever I wanted to eat? So what's the problem?"
I was like..."yeah, but I assumed you would help yourself while keeping me in mind. Like I buy this stuff because I also want to eat it. I don't think someone should have to tell you to have some consideration and leave some for me?"
He acted like he had no clue he wasn't supposed to just eat everything all the time and contribute nothing to the weekly groceries or replace anything. Now, whenever I (very politely, mind you) ask him to leave some food for me (usually when I see him drunkenly rip open a package and begin inhaling the items within), he gets defensive, as if I'm being mean. I just want to eat some of the stuff I buy for the house.
Additionally, he doesn't offer to help pay oil, electric, or anything else. I've brought this up - how it doesn't feel like a partnership because he doesn't even ask if I need help paying utilities. He reminded me that the agreement was the amount he's currently paying towards rent (which by the way amounts to $400/month. He's paying $100 a week to live in a house, eat for free, all utilities included).
​
Reason # 3
I guess this goes along with Reason # 2, but he always complains that he is broke. He doesn't make enough money. He has no money. He complains about money constantly. So when we go out, I always feel bad, because it seems like he somehow mentions how broke he is conveniently before we go out to dinner or do things together. So I feel almost obligated to pay. I feel guilty making my "broke" boyfriend pay for anything. But I know that's on me. That's a decision I'm making.
What pisses me off, is that in spite of how "broke" he is (he will often not have the money to pay his part of rent; he'll pay it late, or break it up into multiple payments throughout the month), he buys alcohol every night (with the exception of a random night here and there), go out to drink, AND for a while there, he was getting Amazon packages multiple times per week. He could afford to order a bunch of stuff for himself every week. But he can't ask me if I need help paying the electric bill.
​
Reason # 4
He's clingy and....I don't know how to describe it. There's no word to describe reason # 4, but....he's always up my ass. If I get up to move from one room to the next, or if we're sitting next to each other on the couch and I get up to go upstairs, he demands to know where I'm going and what I'm doing and then proceeds to ask "why, why, why." He does so in a very accusatory tone. There's this unsettling sound of urgency in his voice. All I'm doing is going upstairs to get something from the bathroom? Like no matter what I do or where I go in the house, he has to know what I'm doing, where I'm going and for what reason. I feel like I can't do anything without giving an explanation and it's exhausting.
I don't typically go out anywhere (besides work and to shop for groceries and household essentials), but the few times I've begun to leave the house (while of course telling him I had to run out really quick), without giving him a full-blown explanation of where I'm going and for what, he's acted like I was going out to...I don't know what....go to an orgy? The one time, I had to run to Target, and he demanded to know for what, wanted to know what was on my list. I was so exhausted from being followed around and harangued, I snapped at him...because who has time to tell someone their entire shopping list?
BUT THEN, he goes out and I don't bother him about it. I don't demand to know details, who, where, why. He actually goes out-out. Like to bars and to hang out with friends. I don't try to stop him. I don't ask him what he's doing. I don't bother him via text while he's out.
I typically use the nights where he's out as an opportunity to go to bed early, and without being harassed. And surprise, surprise...when he comes stumbling through the door late at night, he ALWAYS shakes me awake and demands sex. Sometimes he wakes me up and accuses me of talking to other men while he was away, and it turns into this big thing and I don't get that extra sleep I had so badly needed.
​
​
There are actually some more major reasons, but I'm now realizing how long this post is.
I told him I no longer wanted to be with him. I don't know how that's going to go, because he lives here now, and I know he can't afford to move out. Of course, he's upset. He tells me everything he does comes from a good place. He has good intentions. With the sex, he says it's not as bad as I make it out to be, or that it's not as often as I claim it is. That's not true. I know how often and how bad it's been. Perhaps the fact that he drinks skews his memory? He claims he only asks me a million questions because he's "trying to start a conversation." He only follows me around "because he loves being around me." In his mind, he's being a saint. And I'm just misunderstanding him.
So of course, I keep going back and forth. Do I dump him? Stay with him? Am I the bad guy?
I've really been thinking about this. I haven't seen him all day, as he seems to be avoiding me and avoiding being at the house (for the last two days.) I feel more calm and peaceful than I have in over a year.
I have to listen to the way I feel around him, which is straight up trash.
​
​
​
​