Tattoo on side of praying hands and serenity prayer

The Winds of Winter
Prologue
A storm was coming, but that was not part of the plan.
To the east, dark grey clouds and flashes of lightning were seen afar while thunder could be heard mumbling its rage in the distance. Here where they stood, fierce sea-chilled winds blew from the clear skies of the west. Two weather fronts were on course for a collision, and caught in between was a giant rock that mountains above the shoreline, a hard place. The old natural stonewalls of Casterly Rock were half bathed in gold from the even-falling sun, while the other hid in the shadow of the approaching storm. And soon enough, everything will be clouded in black.
The sound of the strong waves smacking into the face of the stony cliffs can be felt from a mile away, as it was no different from the ones crashing into the wooden hull of their galley. Above their rocking swanship, three tall wooden masts sported simple dark black sails, filled with winds from the west, speeding their eastern course towards the home of House Lannister, ready to hug the coastline tight, fast and dangerous.
The Summer Isle captain at the helm shouted his accented announcement, “Awww shittt! Everyone get yo shields and weapons ready. It’s about to go down! Adventurers and avengers, assemble up to the deck of Motherfunker. Be sharp and stay on yo toes! We’re running this so let’s go!”
“With me to the boats!” the legendary stern knight Ser Brynden Tully called out as his fighting men rallied at the starboard rear of their ship, emerging from the cabins below.
“We all chose to be here. If any man wants to back down now, then do so quickly. I would not die in that man’s company. We elected to do this task for honor and for justice. Some of us are here for vengeance and we may even chance to kill some of them. If so, you may enjoy your short moment of pleasure. But what I offer here is the IMMORTALITY of the songs and tales. And when it is all said & done as we return safely home, the singers will sing of this glorious day, our honorable deed, and their shame of a jape. And they will sing it from this day to the ending of the world, and we in it shall be remembered! We few, we brave few, we band of brothers. For he who shed blood with me today shall be my brother forever in song!”
A roar of cheer exploded in the air, loud and thunderous. As the ruckus died down, Lady Mormont proclaimed, “And a sister too!”
“Aye Maege,” said the Blackfish. “But we have always considered you as one of our brothers. Between your legs, your sacs are larger than most men, especially all the Lannister soldiers.”
“Well that is easy to say, all those Lannisters are a bunch of golden eunuchs!” Lady Mormont declared unlady like.
Laughter swept the deck.
The Summer Isle captain above shouted again and prayed, “Today is The Day, and the moment is upon us my friends. Thirty seconds until the drop zone lads! May the gods be with yo!”
On the starboard stern, three small rowboats hung out from the hull, hovering above the rough waves. Attached over the swanship’s parapet was a roped ladder, allowing the fighters to lower themselves down onto their watercrafts. Each one was designed to hold four pairs of oarsmen abreast, and a single coxswain to steer at the rear.
They were twenty good men and Maege. Each one scaled in black boiled leather armor, with a quiver of arrows slung on one back shoulder, and a Summer Isle goldenheart bow on the other. Most fighters had their own selection of close quarter combat weapons that sat on their belts while a round black-painted wooden shield rested at the center of their backs. They wore no sigils and smeared mud spots on their faces to mimic dark ghostly shadows for this stealthy task. They were lightly armored and had fewer weapons, as their goal required speed. If all goes to plan, they would not need any of them. They could accomplish this mission without a soul lost on either side. But this approaching storm was not part of the plan.
The Blackfish made one last heroic call on the deck of the Motherfunker, before he lowered himself on the ladder, “Come with me and take this song!”
Rico added to the cry, “Come on brothers! Do you want to live forever!?!”
They roared proudly again and began their descent as the Summer Isle crewmen assisted the Westerosi to the ropes, sharing firm ebony and ivory handshakes as they told them they will be back.
Ser Brynden Tully reached the rear rowboat LionsJape along with June, Jory, Jess, Fess, Ben and Benjen. Though it was the end boat, it will be the first to fly.
Aboard the middle boat WinterStorm was Lady Maege Mormont, and the other six oarsmen Phyl, Rico, Sam the Shredder, Ser Barnabus the Goose, Scrooge, and Queen Jeyne’s brother Ser Raynald Westerling.
Lord Galbart Glover commandeered the third boat BattleWolf, which hung closer to the center of the swanship. On it were the younger men Donal, Mikkal, Raff, Leo, and Alesander, all merely teenagers.
As he watched from above, Ser Olyvar Frey thought they were little dark turtles crawling down the ladders with their black shields slung on their backs. As the last turtle, Olyvar hugged & kissed his sister Roslin, and then their brother Perwyn. Ser Perwyn Frey was Lady Tully’s sworn shield, charged with her life’s protection, and her unborn child’s too. Though they were all Frey as family, Rosby blood thorns in their veins as well. We were all just sweet Roses By another name, a horrible name.
Olyvar descended. Alesander Frey was waiting for him adjacent to an empty seat on the boat. He was Olyvar’s nephew, but because they were of a similar age, Alesander felt more like a cousin to him, a cousin that felt more like a brother. He wondered what their mothers would have thought if they saw them there now. As Olyvar sat, he stretched his arms wide at the starboard-bow of BattleWolf and the brothers both grabbed an oar each. Alesander sang and japed, “Are you ready to fly this boat to the moon somehow?”
“Nothing is impossible!” Olyvar smiled.
Ser Olyvar Frey never thought he would be on this boat, absorbing the wrath of the big blue watery roads, rocking BattleWolf as it clung to Motherfunker. But his new knightly confidence was so high he could roar at the Drowned God to look at him and tell him to piss off. But he knew better and kept his silence. With his Frey luck, he believed his corpse would be bedding with mermaids down under the sea if he ever cursed the Drowned God aloud.
The owner of the swanship Motherfunker was an exiled prince of the Summer Isles, a big man with a short black beard, shiny bald head and a dark patch over his left eye that he can’t see through. He was Captain Samullu Jaqenssen, but notoriously called the Black Sparrow … though Olyvar had never heard of him until recently. He and his crew were the only sailors that would assist them in their cause, hypnotized to be a part of their upcoming famous Westerosi song. He was to help navigate his galley at high speeds hugging the rocky coast of the Westerlands. With the three rowboats hung to the side of Motherfunker, it would be hard for the sentries on top of the Rock to spot from above. The Motherfunker stayed far away from the coastline to only emerge near their objective at the time of attack. With a single swanship with plain black sails, the Black Sparrow hoped that the Lannister watchmen would pay them no mind as a regular trading galley on its way to Lannisport or wherever, instead of a vessel for an amphibious assault on their castle. And the stronger the winds and the faster the ship, the window of time to be exposed was much shorter. “They had the need for speed, and the speed needed the wind,” Goose had said the night before. The gods have blessed them with strong winds now. They were to come with the sun setting at their backs in the west, blinding any coastal lookout. Because they were cursed with this approaching storm, the plan changed and they had to depart earlier. Olyvar prayed that this would not compromise the mission. Only time will tell.
Racing onto the storm and nearing the rising cliffs, the Captain spun his ship quickly to a southern course and gave the crewmen the signal to dismount. “Ahhhhhhhhh-ah Ahhhhhhhh-ah!”
“Get ready to push!” the Blackfish commanded.
Each oarsman pressed the tip of their long wooden stick onto the hull of the galley, ready to push off. The Summer Isle crewmen began severing the connections of the mothership and its three rowboats. Single-handed axes swung as LionsJape pushed itself off, the first of three. The rowboat plummeted and the waters swallowed it before spitting it back out just as quick. After allowing itself to lose in Motherfunker’s wake, the oarsmen redirected the bow towards the rocks at the Blackfish’s orders.
The WinterStorm followed right after with Lady Maege’s commands, “Push lads! Push! Push!” as it dropped.
Now it was BattleWolf’s turn. “Gods damn it, I’m too old for this shit,” Lord Glover said as he raised a gloved hand and swung it down, giving the signal to cut. At the main deck, the crewmen swung their axes, gleaming gold in the western sunlight as the oarsmen pushed off. For a heartbeat, the fall had taken Olyvar’s breath away as Lord Glover’s BattleWolf floated in the air. Are we flying? Are we on a dragon? His rowboat slammed into the water, splashing chilled wet droplets inside the boat and out. His hair of short black curls flew and fell, dampening at the plunge. The collision almost knocked Olyvar and the men overboard, but they hung on. The Motherfunker left them with a white salty wake as it headed south. Lord Glover then commanded the starboard men to pull their oars, aiming towards WinterStorm. Olyvar pulled. Once aligned, both sides of BattleWolf began to rev hard. The men were howling and roaring with each tension, trying to evade this dangerous zone of being spotted.
Since the Red Wedding and the death of his beloved King, Robb Stark, Olyvar could not sleep. Grief, anger, vengeance, insomnia and drowsiness took him over the days and nights that felt like half-dreams. But the crashing kiss of the water dive had re-woken Olyvar in shock, as he realized what they were about to do was no fantasy he had ever known. Nothing can stop us now, this is really happening. His heart was pounding to the rhythm of the oars and he wanted to scream his battle cry. He could still hear Jaqenssen the Black Sparrow sounding his siren “Ahhhhhhhh-ah Ahhhhhhh-ah!”
We are brothers loyal to the King in the North, the land of ice and snow. We serve Riverrun and Winterfell, where the hot springs flow. And now the divine winds of the gods had driven our mothership to the Westerlands. To fight for honor, the North will sing and the West will cry. Casterly Rock … Winter is Coming! On we sweep with threshing oars, our only goal will be the western shore!
As Olyvar’s oar rose and fell, he looked up to the windows of Casterly Rock’s tall stony towers, searching for the signaling candle light. But it could not be seen this early. Only when the sun was fully set as planned, this candle would replace it as the guiding light. They rowed by rocks and rocks and more rocks. Seagulls flew in spheres above them, chasing one another. The sun still hung in the air, slowly falling to splash onto the western horizon of the Sunset Sea. They then rowed by a courtyard that just floated on the earth forty feet above the sea’s surface. Suddenly on the other side of their boat, they eyed a whale skimming off the glimmering golden ocean. The boys of the vulnerable BattleWolf did not say a word as the monstrous water-beast swam the opposite direction just twenty yards away from them, paying them no mind. It was a good thing I did not curse the Drowned God as I was going to earlier.
Olyvar, Alesander, Leo, Mikkal, Raff and Donal were seated on Galbart Glover’s rowboat, rowing to Galbart Glover’s commands, “Row! Row! Row your boats you son o’ whores!” and taking in Galbart Glover’s cold stare as he eyed the two Freys specifically when he said it. Olyvar’s arms began to tire, but this was not the place to show weakness to his brothers. So he pulled on while keeping their rowboat as close to the stony walls as possible to avoid detection from above.
They trailed the Lady Bear while following the Blackfish. Soon after, Ser Brynden Tully had found his mark and grounded LionsJape onto a small beach. His men exited, flipped the rowboat above them and dashed forty yards straight toward the rocky edge, where a small barred cave was fitted at the base. Underneath the rusted iron, a thin valley of brown watery slush stank & trickled into the sand & sea. Everyone knew what that was when they agreed to participate in the assault. The Blackfish was told back at Riverrun about a sewer path inside Casterly Rock that allowed all the shit and piss to drain out to the ocean. This tiny hole by the foot of the mountain was all and everything for the mission.
When the sprinting men reached the end with their boat, they dropped it at the skirt and pressed themselves against the wall. The façade was conveniently arched outwards as it ascended, making it difficult to be sighted from above. With the waves muffling the noise of speech, any of them can speak freely outside at sea level. From the cliffs above, their human conversations below would only sound like ghostly whispers. No casual listener should be alerted to such. But hearing and seeing are different things, and they must not be seen.
WinterStorm and BattleWolf soon followed. As Olyvar departed BattleWolf, he cringed at the soreness of his arms that the work had left him. His arms will have to ache again as his squad lifted the rowboat above their heads. They stormed towards the barred entrance, with bow and quiver slung on each shoulder, a turtle shell shield at the center of his back. While the others carried shorter lighter personal weapons, Olyvar was equipped with a longsword that once belonged to his King, Robb Stark.
They dropped off BattleWolf when they reached the wall, waiting for a way in. Ten brothers on one side of the cave, and eleven on the other. The closest ones to the door had their small axes and weapons drawn along with their shields, while the further ones notched an arrow onto their bow. Olyvar had his Summer Isle goldenheart bow ready. The entrance was small, the same size as their black shields, guarding the realm of Casterly Rock, and they continued to wait.
This thunderstorm was coming, and it was not part of the plan. It was the Blackfish’s decision to leave Motherfunker earlier before the storm surges would flood the sewers of Casterly Rock. Their forty yard dash from the beach to the gate may be twenty yards if they arrived an hour later … and there may be no more exit by the time they escape back. But Stark loyalists hidden in the woods outside of the castle were told of executing this assault at the exact evenfall of Queen Jeyne Stark’s arrival to Casterly Rock. The Lannister soldier escorts would be exhausted from their march and acquired a false sense of security when they reached the safe comforts of the castle. The Stark land forces led by Lord Gawen Westerling would create a mummer’s farce with trumpets and drums, sending the weary Lannisters to one side, as the Blackfish himself attacked the other from the sea. Evenfall of this day was the golden time to do this, but they arrived an hour too early. With the storm, Olyvar prayed that everyone else would adjust to the plan. He wondered if Lord Westerling would account for the storm surges. But it makes no difference now. They were here, and they cannot turn back.
Suddenly the rusted iron of the barred cave unlocked and swung open, creaking like a loud squealing rat. Emerged was a crouching older man with a short gray beard and a jaw squared like a mason spice jar. “Welcome to the Rock!” Ser Rolph Spicer declared.
Ser Brynden greeted him with a hug, “I’m so glad you came early, we would be sleeping with the fishes if you were late.”
“It was Edmure’s idea to leave early, he said the storm would flood the sewers, and we prayed you would come sooner too.”
“Like that damn Mill again, Edmure acting prematurely? That boy will never learn! Thank the Gods!”
They both chuckled and began entering through the gate. The others soon followed, ducking into the small hole and into the darkness.
Once inside the caves of Casterly Rock, Ser Rolph grabbed his torchlight and lifted it to the air, showing the brothers the vastness. The lobby was an open abyss where the ceiling was fifty feet high. The walls had multiple rocky openings naturally carved in, small and large. Some were wide enough to walk through. Inside were all shadows, saved the areas illuminated by golden sunlight spying in through each seldom hole or fissure. Where the flames can brighten, hard brown rocks glowed and flickered, as well as old metal tracks, mining carts, abandoned tools, ladders, rusty chains and the occasional plant roots that brewed in the darkness of the caves. The smell reeked. Olyvar was sure there would be no real gold here as it was probably mined out over the centuries. Only shit shits down here in the sewers and caves of Lord Tywin Lannister’s home, not gold, Olyvar thought. This was where Lann the Clever started his legend, swindling the Casterly residents out of the castle, cheating them. It was their turn now to write history, these archers from the sea facing off with their own modern Casterly ploy … accomplishing it without being seen, doing it as faceless warriors.
They followed Ser Rolph and his torchlight in single file, going deeper up into the caves, fitting in burrowed hallways that barely fit them, pursuing his decisions at each fork in the paths, squishing their feet on sluggish wet slopes and steps. The very first entrance they encountered required them to descend a few yards before climbing up the rest of the way. It was hundreds of feet in elevation that they must ascend to. At times, the way was lit well enough. But at other instants, the darkness blinds them, only facing the brother in front of them for their flight. I have promises to keep. And steps to go before I sleep. And steps to go before I sleep.
“By now the guards at the top of the Rock should be asleep after I spiced up their ale,” Ser Rolph Spicer said with a cheeky smile. “Before my sister Sybell married into House Westerling, I explored these parts of Casterly Rock in my youth as a smuggler, going up and down many times. Your legs will tire, no doubt about that. But you lads are years younger than I, and I better hear no complaints unless I am the first one to make it.”
“I’ll do my best,” young Leo announced for himself.
“Your best?” Ser Spicer questioned. “Losers whine about their best. Winners rescue crowned queens.”
“Lady Jeyne Westerling-Stark is THE crowned Queen,” Leo replied.
“Is that so?” Ser Rolph gave Leo a sarcastic look with a raised eyebrow, before continuing up the steps inside the Rock.
“I’ll decide the turns and I’ll establish the security checkpoints. There, we can rest for a moment. A few of you will be left there to guard the area as the others will continue to ascend. Those few will wait until we fall back. But remember, the journey down is far less exhausting. For now, let’s go up and up. Ser Olyvar Frey, would you take the honor of watching our rear?”
Ser Olyvar Frey. The name was still queer to him. As much as he liked the ‘Ser’ in his name, he would like to rid the “Frey” in the surname. He had been the most loyal squire a king could have asked for. He would have stayed with King Robb Stark to the end of the world, but his own blood tore that away from him. Olyvar was not blind though. His young king had made grave mistakes, more than Olyvar wanted to count. As much as he would have favored his sister Roslin to marry him, Olyvar knew you cannot choose the people you love. And Robb genuinely loved another, he hoped. Jeyne Westerling was just as sweet as Roslin. Olyvar would have stayed at Robb’s side as his brother-in-law, or some uncle-in-law by Lord Edmure Tully. Though by choosing Jeyne, it slighted Olyvar’s father Lord Walder Frey. But Seven Hells father, did you have to murder him? At my sister’s wedding feast? Under your own roof? Under my roof? Robb Stark was my king. He was brave and good, and Olyvar Frey loved him. And his soul was tortured in sleepless days and nights, knowing he shared the same blood as the murderers … knowing he could have stopped it if it was not for impulse. You are an honorable fool Olyvar. His father had told him of the treacherous plan the day before, but Olyvar cursed it aloud, defending Robb as it was still his duty. You should’ve been smart and played stupid with father. You could have informed Robb while you were still free, breaking this bad dream. Olyvar shouldn’t have tried to bargain with his father. He should have known he made up his mind a long while ago. Olyvar was imprisoned in the dungeons of the Twins during the Red Wedding. The gaolers were japing at him, “Go ahead, do your duty. Save your king!”
My king. The sad memories faded into blurred flashbacks.

Memory Transcription Subject: Cristopir Elenura, Gentled Human, Factory Farmer. Date [Standardized Human Time]: 499 AG.
Location: Karseran, Nomerka, Earth.
——
“Attention, brethren. “
“This is an urgent reminder from the Central Authority. Our assigned farming quotas must be met by the end of this cycle without fail, and failure to comply will result in severe consequences for our Herd.”
“Every laborer must increase output immediately. Non-compliance will not be tolerated. Remember, the collective herd depends on your diligence and commitment. Report any inefficiencies or substandard performance to the Union.”
“The fate of Mankind rests in your hands, brothers. Consider your families and intensify your efforts. By working harder, we will ensure our success.”
“End transmission.”
My ears pinned themselves flat against my head as annoyance bubbled over over, my knuckles whitening over the tool I carried. That same message had been playing ad-infinitum for the past eight hours. Every half-hour, my sensitive ears would be assaulted by the voice of some distant voice projector. Even worse, the message wasn’t as personal as it may have been, for the man behind the microphone was not even human. He was a Venlil, totally disconnected from our herd. My wonder towards the rest of the Federation had long faded as I began to actually meet member-species. Scant few immigrated here for the special privileges they were afforded over us and often regarded us with a special sort of pity, while others - Usually Venlil - hated us and were here to prove a point made five centuries ago.
Looking back on it, I wondered how I imagined Venlil Prime as some utopia. There was no way such bitter people could forge much of anything. Everything that has happened to us, we deserve, that’s obvious. But still, the rest of the Federation is eager to treat us like the young prey in need of guidance like we are. All scars heal with time, and with Mankind on the precipice of rejoining the Galaxy, it annoyed me like no other to see a species unable to let time heal their wounds. But Yanek was okay for a Venlil, I guess. He was a foreman who was more interested in having his revenge by being lazy rather than actively being abusive. When most foreman would actually help with the work, he was more eager to prop himself where everyone could see him, and take his pick of the produce to eat. And of course, he can’t be fired because he’s a member of the ‘senior prey species’.
It’s not really his fault. My blood boils if I think enough about my situation. I hated that I was here, instead of having the comfortable and well-regarded profession of a radioman. I hadn’t wanted it as a Fawn. I once wanted to do anything else but that. But now that I had no Father to inherit the job from, I was the first Elenura to be stripped of his higher status … and the beginning of a long line of factory farmers. That’s what I had been assigned too. Nobody worked in a factory farm, save for people who had no other choice like myself. The days were long, impersonal, and lacking of the idyll associated with Earth’s agrarian lifestyle.
It was humiliating. I don’t think I’ll ever have children. I would not be the protigniter of a line of factory farmers.
Factory-farms like this were among the most advanced complexes on Earth. There was plenty of technology and radios that could be fixed, that could use my expertise. But my boss was more interested in filling the positions with offworlders and keeping people like me down here. It was an important job, I guess. We produce billions of pounds of excess food to fulfill the Breadbasket Quota, to feed the rest of the Galaxy, a day. It’s the only way it’s possible. I was made to wear a thick, stifling rubber suit over my fur - an alien feeling - and tend to a corner of hundreds of miles of hydroponic farms that were sprayed hourly by chemicals toxic to my kind. It was disgusting and thankless work.
I trudged through the ankle-deep waters that surrounded the rice plants, my eyes half-heartedly on the lookout for any signs of blight on the crops. Ideally, the chemicals were preservatives and pesticides non-lethal to anyone but us that kept the diminished bug population away from them. My shift was nearing an end, and I had requested an extra day to my weekend, though I never responded to their request for specification as to why. Thousands of people worked here. They would be fine without me. So far, it had been the same story as always. Absolutely nothing to report.
But my attention was taken by a voice.
“Elenura.”
Venlil-accented Kolashian, though with a pure accent instead of the Human dialect that our species spoke. That meant that our foreman had gotten off his high horse and came down to talk to me for some reason. I turned to face him, looking at the small Venlil that had to fully crane his neck upwards to look at me. Yanek. The lazy one. The black-wooled Venlil stood and I felt that he was staring down at me, despite the inverse being true.
“There's a need for you to stay to survey the last forty acres over there-“ He spoke, motioning in front of me. “Family emergency on Norrici’s part. Once you're done with that, you can go home.” The Venlil spoke with a non-chalantness uncharacteristic to his species. I hadn’t expected to be able to go home so quickly, but I was hardly one to complain. I ached everywhere I could. The half-hour arrived, as the message once again began to play, just in time for the sprinklers to begin raining chemicals down - staining my suit further, though it fell upon the foreman without reaction from him.
“That’s fine,” I spoke cautiously, “ … What about the two paws I requested?”
“Oh yeah,” The Venlil responded as if he hadn’t kept me wondering for multiple days on end, his voice infuriatingly non-chalant. “That’s fine. Just make sure to get back in time for Monday Morning Gathering. You haven’t exactly been the best with keeping up with those.”
I mentally sighed. That’s because nothing is ever said at morning gatherings, and all it did was add an extra half-hour to the shift.
“You still haven’t said why, though.” The Venlil scratched at the side of his muzzle, a skeptical expression on his face. “It must be important if you're skipping two paws when we’re running a deficit this bad, right? You can afford to tell me for the ledger later.”
He put emphasis on the fact that I ‘could afford’ to tell him. My job wasn’t on the line, no, the concept of losing my job didn’t cross my mind - they were as stuck with me as I was with them. But bad workers could certainly have their lives made difficult by uncooperative schedules, extra work, and rude bosses. That’s for sure. I remained silent for a moment, before I finally could speak.
“Uh, yeah, my father … His birthday is coming up around the time I’m asking off. I was just hoping to go back home and say a few prayers for him, since I’m all he had left.”
A momentary flash of sympathy painted the Venlil’s face, as he sighed. Usually he was one to rub his lackadaisical attitude and authority over the rest of us, but this time he just stared up at me and nodded.
“Speh, uh … I’m sorry I asked, go ahead and go home. I’ll take it from here.”
Perhaps Yanek had some sort of soul beneath all that wool after all.
“Are you sure? I can finish this.”
He shook his head again, “No, I’ll get some of the others to finish this up. Take your time, I’ll add a few paws off for you. Just spend some time with your Dad. I’ll see you again Wednesday.”
I stared at him astonished, but quickly took off for the showers. For once, I didn’t hate this place nor Yanek. Maybe he wasn’t so bad after all.

good to monetize and modify!
So I was out with a buddy at one of those small town China buffets and he got a fortune cookie without any paper fortune in it. And I went home and made this. While listening to the album Wasteland to Wonderland by Paddy and the Rats.
It takes place in a world where science and magic coexist. Poorly. (Think S.T.A.L.K.E.R. but with wizards) The city and the countryside are ruled by a being known as the fateweaver. She rules with an iron fist, her command over sorcery absolute. Deep within the city her scientists are working on something. Something insidious. One of these decides that they wont be a part of it anymore. They are exiled from the city with a terrible curse and nowhere to go. There are rumors however of another sorcerer, who lives in an old estate far on the other side of the wastelands.
Bereft of any other ideas, they go. Ready to challenge fate.
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Dialogue
SFX
Context
context that changes the audio
The listener has been cursed by a figure known as the fateweaver for refusing to work on a scientific project for them. They have fled from the fate weavers city and sought out a mysterious sorcerer to have the curse lifted
Unfortunately they didn't get very far past the edge of the estate.
Well well well what have my roses caught for me?
A trespasser all tangled up in the thorns. A dime a dozen drifter.
Trespasser trespasser why did come?
Seems you're a little tangled up there. Did you really think you’d just be able to waltz into my sanctuary? You have no idea how much danger you’re in right now.
You’re lucky that my roses judged you to be a good person at heart or their enchantments would have made you into a rat as soon as you pricked yourself on them. Then my cats would have probably eaten you.
So tell me why you came and I’ll cut you down and pretend I never saw you.
What's the matter trespasser? Devil got your throat?
What brought you here? Just what manner of mortal are you?
Oh it seems it can speak after all. Come on now.
You’re stammering. Talk slower.
A scientist you say? Well well well. It's not often I’m graced with the presence of a sage like yourself.
Tell me, child of science, why would you seek out a sorcerer? I don't suppose you came here just to check out my roses.
And what's this on your neck? Seems to my eyes to be a tendril from a curse mark.
Tongue clicking
Ooooh boy, somebody out there must really not like you huh? Why is that?
More stammering
Actually you know what? I’m not interested. Here let me unsheathe my knife and cut you down.
Cuts them down
Thud
Now I’m going to close my beautiful eyes for a moment. And when I open them you’re going to be gone. I'm going to go back to sleep and in the morning this will just seem like some silly dream.
Understand?
Alright sweet pea.
One
Two
Three
Deep breath
And you’re still here.
Ok let's try again shall we?
One…..
Two……
Frustrated sigh
Ok I’m starting to get a little bit angry now. You know you woke me up from a really wonderful dream?
I was driving down the coast roads in a long silver convertible. I think it was a thunderbird like from that Marc Cohn song.
I had the top down and the radio on. The sea breeze was tossing my hair just so and I had that lovely salty fresh taste in my mouth. You have no idea how much I long to return to the coast. To feel that breeze for real just one more time.
The sun was going down and the sky was a million radiant colors. Just exploding up from the ocean. I had my arm draped around the shoulder of some lounge singer. It was one of the nicest dreams I’ve had in a long long time.
And right in the middle of it, as my favorite song came on over the radio and that good looking singer started to sing along to it, so softly I could barely even hear. I leaned in for the kiss and what happened instead?
I woke up- alerted to a trespasser into my little sanctum. My hair is a mess and my mouth tastes like morning breath. And instead of some gorgeous singer, I get to spend this cloudy damp little night with you.
So you can see how I might be a little unamused right now. Clearly you’re not going to take the off ramp I so generously provided to you so explain why you’re here. It had better be a really good reason.
Listener stammers again
You know what shut up. Let me see that curse mark. The whole thing.
Shhhhh relax i just need to look. Take off your shirt.
Turn around.
Traces their finger over the curse mark
Oh ohh damn. You’re really up the creek aren't you? You’ve been cursed by the fateweaver herself.
I’ve seen this before. It's a very insidious little curse.
Your energy slowly sapped away. Day by day. Everything around you goes greyer and greyer. And then one day your tank finally goes empty and you sit down somewhere, close your eyes and turn into stone, never to stir again. It's a favorite of hers.
What did you do? You don't seem like the defiant type. I'm guessing it was something like speaking out of turn during a meeting. Something stupid and petty like that.
Ohhh you had some “concerns”? Didn't like the implications of what you were being told to research did you?
Laughs
I’ll paint the rest of the picture. You shared these “Concerns” with her, but to your incredible surprise (and nobody else's) instead of listening to your ethical concerns she cursed you.
Listener does not deny it
Hehe yeah I knew it.
I can tell you're the type to assume the best of people aren't you. That’s cute. That's why you came out here just assuming I'd lift your curse out of the kindness of my little old heart isn't it? The evil sorcerer in the heart of the wasteland is surely just a caring good Samaritan deep down.
Well why would I lift the curse even if I could? What's in it for me? Me and the fateweaver have an understanding. She gets the city and the mountains. And I get the wasteland. Sure we're enemies, but frankly she's beaten me. And I'm tired, so why Should I rock the boat for some no name labcoat like you? Why risk another confrontation?
So no, I don't think I’ll be helping you.
You can stay right here if you want though. I think a statue would look really nice right over…. There. Right over on that iron bench by the dry fountain. Make sure you strike a good pose when it starts, Sweet Pea.
Maybe sit right there with your head in your hands. Cry a little bit even. It'll give this place a real melancholy vibe. Maybe I'll let the roses grow over you. That doesn't sound so bad does it? Just try not to make too much noise. I need my beauty sleep. See ya in the morning!
Mocking laugh
Oh you look so cute when the light fades from your eyes like that. Whatcha gonna do? Beg? Cry?
Go right on ahead! Sadder stories than yours have failed to move me! But I love a good begging session as much as the next sorcerer! Come on then! Lets see it.
Listener gets angry. In a tranquil way.
Oooh a death glare. Shiver me timb-
Listener sucker punches them in the gut, tackles them and takes the knife. pinning them to the ground with the knife to their throat.
Wha-oof!!
Oh you're a tricky bastard aren't you? I have to admit that I never would have expected you to punch me in the gut like that. And you got your grubby little hands on my favorite knife.
You think you've got the upper hand don't you? Well go ahead try and slit my throat. Take that knife and do it.
Go on. Try it.
The knife won't cut me. I know it. And if you truly know something it can't hurt you. It's killed enough for me that it knows it won't be trusted by anyone else. That's old magic. Nice try though.
Of course you realize that this means war.
Punches listener in the face
Grunts
Shoves the listener off of them.
They square up with eachother
Come on you fool! Hit me again! Show me that you're made of blood and bone! Show me what you lose if your flesh becomes stone. Stand up for yourself! You deserve to live don't you?
Grunts as they throw a punch. Listener dodges
Well?! Show me that you want it! Show me how bad you want to live!
Dodges a punch
Is that all!? I was just starting to respect you!
Throws another punch and hits the listener. The listener is knocked back and lets out an angry primal yell.
Yeah that's it! Scream! Cry for blood! Get mad! Get angry! Live damn you! Live!
Punches the air
You've got too much to lose to let me stop you! Take your fate into your own hands! You know what you came here for! Take it!
Tries to punch out the listener. The listener dodges and counter punches. Hitting their cheek
Laughter
spits
You made me bite my cheek, you little piece of dirt. First blood goes to you.
My mouth tastes like blood, but tonight the blood tastes like wine. Images are flashing through my mind. Images of the past and the future. You're something else. Worth getting out of bed for at least.
Laughter
So you want to live? You're not the only one. I can help you with that, but it'll cost you.
This curse of yours isn't some run of the mill evil spell. It's not a matter of me just waving my hand and casting a good spell to counter the evil one. There's a reason she's called the fateweaver. You turning into stone has literally been written in the stars. It is your destiny, it's part of the great tapestry of the world's fate.
The sun will rise tomorrow, the river will flow to the sea, the moon shall wax and wane, and you will turn to stone. It is your fate.
Ha! There's always a way. I can change your fate, that's what it means to be a sorcerer after all, to change fate. Come with me. To the well of eternity.
Walking and talking
My estate is built around the well of eternity. It is the bedrock of everything I am. The little seed that became the core of my power, and the link that became the chains that bind me. I wasn't always what I am now. I used to be a dental hygienist, but I had a curse of my own I needed to break. I’ll spare you the gritty details but it led me here from my home dimension.
A great man once compared the world to an optometrist trapped on a rail car with one little hole in the wall. Forced to watch the world pass by but being unable to see where the train was going or where it had been, only where it was at that moment.
That is what it is to be bound by fate, but what if I told you there was a way out of the boxcar?
That great hole in the center of the brick plaza? That's the well of eternity.
We'll have to descend the staircase around it. Watch your step, the stairs are slippery and thin.
Conjures a magical fire for light.
A magical fire burning a brilliant shade of [whatever your favorite color is] it will guide our way.
This world of yours and mine is one of many. All that happens here is one way or another driven by a conflict between those who serve the princess of the tower, the goddess of order. And the Witch of the plains. The goddess of chaos.
The fateweaver serves the former, although she doesn't know it. And I served the latter, even though I despised it. All that happens in every universe on the most fundamental level, is driven by their eternal hatred. So if you ever felt like the gods were fools, well you weren't far off from the truth.
Or in any case that's how it has been explained to me. I'll freely admit I don't understand most things as much as I'd like to. I’m a lot less than I appear to be. Most sorcerers are. We’re all smoke and mirrors. Shadows on the wall. Ghost boxes and card tricks.
They are deep in the well. There's a quiet watery ambience.
The well of eternity may look like water, but in truth it is the stuff that makes up the void between universes. If you submerge yourself into the water you will cease to be a part of this world and the forces that command your destiny will have no power over you. Your life will be your own.
Whispers minus the debt you will be owing me
Wait, I want you to understand what exactly you are doing to yourself.
There was a kingdom once where the tribe of the valley and the tribe of the hill were all times at war. There was a trader who sold to both sides and became fabulously rich.
But one night as he was riding through a small city a great storm arrived suddenly.
He went to the valley tribe for shelter, but they had no love for someone who also knew the people of the hills.
He went to the people of the hills but they would not shelter a man who also knew the people of the valley.
Thus the storm descended upon him and he was without shelter. Even of the worst kind. He was never seen again.
Do you understand?
Look into the waters.
I can show you glimpses of the great cities of the multiverse.
Samandar, The Emerald City, Tanelorn, Coruscant, El Dorado, Tooner Flats, Numinor, Detroit.
None of them will ever be a home for you.
If there is a place anywhere in the multiverse for a soul that has been baptized in the well of eternity I don't know of it. And trust me, I've looked. You can't go home again.
If you let me lower you into these waters your fate will be your own, and that can be a terrible thing. For whatever happens this point forward will be your responsibility. And if things go poorly you will have no one you can blame save for yourself. Are you certain you want this? I won't blame you if you turn back. There are worse fates than being stone. Becoming like me for example.
Look me in the eye and tell me you want this. Only you can make this choice.
Pause
listener nods
Deep breath
Smooch!
For luck
Splash as they push the listener into the water.
Listener is submerged in the water
Swim up! Swim up!
Fade out
Listener wakes up in inside the speakers home on a couch
Hey. How you feeling?
Head hurts right? And it's not just because of that black eye I gave you last night.
You know you saw a lot of stuff in the waters but you can't remember any of it. That's how it went for me at least.
You'll remember what you saw in time. A little bit will come back to you bit by bit. And It will change you, in ways you might not like. Until then well, ignorance is bliss as they say.
Can you sit up?
Good job, drink this. It's spiced wine, it'll calm your senses a little.
They hand the listener a coffee mug full of warm spiced wine
Like it? I whipped it up while you were napping. It’s not magic. Just calming.
Listener suddenly notices that they have a tattoo of a broken chain on their arm.
Oh yeah I see you just noticed your sick tatt. I did mention something about a debt to me did I not?
Hey! I said my help would cost you didnt I? I mean sure yeah I’m basically a saint, but I still need something in return. That tattoo is just a little forget me not. Something to keep that fresh in your mind. Besides, it looks good on you. Gives you that little bit of edginess you’ve been missing.
The broken chain. It's a symbol of mine. There's thirteen links. One for every second you spent under the waters down there.
You see I’ve been thinking and I’ve decided I need to get more active outside of my garden again and I'm gonna need a….
Hmmm minion sounds a little too hierarchical. So does servant. I mean I’m just an ordinary guy/gal. I can't have a servant. Too rich for my blood.
Let's say I'll need a helper. Yeah helper sounds nice. Somebody to do my leg work while I focus on the more technical stuff. You’ll love it. Give you a chance to get out of the lab and punch something. If this bruise on my cheek means anything you’ve got some pent up energy you need to work out.
Simple proposition really. Every time you run an errand for me a link disappears from the chain. Help me out thirteen times and you’re free to go. Unless you ever knowingly lie to me, that's gonna add another link to the chain. In the meantime you can stay here.
Hey have you ever driven a Hi-Lo? Do you think you could steal one?
Visible confusion
Nevermind, we'll talk about errands later.
Finish the wine and take a nap for a while. You’ve had a rough night. And it won't be your last. For better or worse. You chose to live a life without a destiny.
When you wake up I’ll have an errand you can run with me.
Cheek kiss
Sleep tight Trespasser.
-30-

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

They found just enough of my best friend's body to mark him down as dead, not missing. The rest of his family wasn't as lucky. They found pieces of Wyatt, Emily, and Alice Forrester—teeth strewn across the parents' bed, strands of the girl's hair caught in the latch of her bedroom window—but there supposedly wasn't enough evidence to determine whether the rest of the family was dead or alive.
After the discovery, my town entered an unofficial, unspoken lockdown. Any peace of mind gained from Fred's arrest was shattered by the realization that, even if he was guilty of grave robbing and killing animals, there were far worse criminals operating in our community. I talked a big game in my last post, saying that I'd put down whatever entity I'd unleashed like some kind of wannabe ghostbuster. In reality, all I did for days was sit in my room, imagining the terror and pain Liam must have felt in his final moments. I submitted an application to visit Fred through the county jail's website, but it took a while to get approved.
Just over a week ago, I received an unexpected visit from Liam's girlfriend, Eleanor. When I answered her knock at my door, she instantly pulled me into a hug and burst into tears, so I figured, despite the two of us not being close, she'd come to commiserate over our shared loss. Not sure what else to do, I invited her inside.
In some ways, it was nice to have someone else who felt the same pain that I did, but in others, seeing her cry just made me feel guilty. She'd come all this way to confide in me, not knowing the role I played in her boyfriend's death. At one point my grandma came in from her garden and made Eleanor some tea, which helped calm her down a little.
It occurred to me that if I was supposed to be investigating the thing that killed Liam, Eleanor might be a good place to start. As gently as I could, I asked her if she'd noticed anything strange about Liam before the discovery.
She shook her head and told me: "He was the same as ever. I just can't see Liam or the rest of his family having any enemies. His parents owned a bakery—that's like the most innocuous job ever. And Alice, I mean, she was only twelve. The only person I might've suspected was your creepy boss. But he was already in jail by that night."
After a minute of silence, she sighed, saying, "That asshole is real bad news. I practically begged Liam not to take that job. We hardly ever disagreed on anything, but we fought about that stupid job all the time." Eleanor started tearing up, so I refrained from asking any follow-up questions. When she composed herself again, she set the teacup down and excused herself, so I walked her out to her car.
I didn't think much about it at the time, but when Eleanor talked about Fred, she seemed really upset. A lot of people in my town have long been wary of Fred, but Eleanor seemed particularly bitter, like there was a painful history between them. Who knows, maybe I'm not the only one who witnessed him messing with dead bodies. I'll have to ask her more the next time I see her.
Before I made it back inside the house, my grandparents appeared on the porch, dressed for an outing. My granddad let me know they were going to The Home Depot for a new raccoon trap, since apparently there was an issue with our current one. He said, "Every morning I find food everywhere and an open trap door. Either the thing's broken or the coyotes have grown opposable thumbs."
After that, they left me alone with the unpleasant notion that something other than coyotes had gotten into the trap. I walked to the edge of our front yard to investigate, and sure enough, the trap door was open and the dog food we used as bait was scattered all over the grass. It looked like someone had reached an arm inside just to knock over the dog food bowl, and yet when I looked closely, I saw a small clump of fur caught in a bottom corner. At some point, there had been an animal in that trap, but something else had opened the door for it. Whether they had done so out of compassion or because they wanted the trapped animal for themselves, I didn't know. I did know that after a week of doing nothing, I finally had a plan.
I spent most of last Saturday gathering supplies, hitting up most of the hunting and camping stores in our small town. My itinerary included four traps in total: two for raccoons; one for mice and other, smaller animals; and one bear trap. I also bought dog food and peanut butter to bait the raccoon and mice traps accordingly. Finally, I bought a pack of four trail cameras. All together, I spent so much that I practically blew through all the money I'd earned at Sundae Central, but I was hoping that it would be worth it.
On Sunday, I set up the traps. My grandparent's house, like all the others on this side of our street, borders a canyon. We've got a nice plot—a huge fenceless yard, at the edge of which sits a greenhouse that my granddad built for my grandma's 50th birthday. Beyond the flat portion of the backyard is a long, gradual decline to the arroyo below, not quite sheer enough to be called a cliff, but too steep and full of trees and boulders to do anything with.
I set up the first trail camera to point to the newly-replaced raccoon trap in the front yard, dedicating the area as Site A. Next, I placed the mouse trap next to the greenhouse, propped up the second trail camera against one of the greenhouse's shelves, and designated it as Site B. I set up the remaining raccoon traps at sites C and D, which lay right at the bottom of the hill and at the very edge of our property respectively. The bear trap, for the time being, I kept in reserve.
Nothing happened on Monday night. I stayed up late, watching the trail cams on my laptop, until I got bored and fell asleep. The following morning, I watched the sped-up recordings, and was both relieved and disappointed to see that nothing had paid the traps a visit.
Site B caught a mouse on Tuesday night. It crawled into the trap near the greenhouse at around 3 AM, but nothing else came to investigate. I released it into the woods the next day. The Site D camera caught something moving in the distance just before dawn, but the trail cam's night vision quality is so bad that I have no idea what it was. From the way the brush swayed in its wake, though, it was something big.
Wednesday night was when things started to get weird. At around midnight, I was sitting at my desk. I've been asked to speak at Liam's funeral, so I was fruitlessly attempting to draft a speech when I looked up at my computer screen to check the cameras. Clicking through the four feeds, I saw that the trap at Site C had caught an opossum. I full-screened the Site C feed and watched the animal scurry around inside the trap for a while. I sat there for a long time. When an hour passed and nothing else happened, I was ready to throw in the towel on the whole stupid operation and just go to bed.
And then, all of a sudden, the trap door slid open.
The opossum was still huddled in the back corner of the cage; the door seemed to have opened all on its own. Cautiously, the creature approached the exit, slowly making its way out of the metal cage. It took a few steps out into the night, and then it stilled. Its head turned to the side, its glowing eyes fixed on something that I couldn't see. I squinted at the video feed. For a moment, I thought I saw depressions in the grass, like something was walking next to the trap.
I blinked, and the opossum disappeared.
I've played back that footage so many times now, and I just can't make sense of what I saw. One second, the creature was standing there in the grass, and the next, it was simply gone. The next morning, when I investigated the area, I saw no trace of the opossum or any other animal. For reasons I still can't comprehend, the thing that's been taking our local wildlife isn't showing up on my cameras.
I focused my efforts on Site C. On Thursday evening, just before dusk, I swapped the dog food in the raccoon trap in favor of a slab of bloody, raw meat I'd bought from the butcher. I also hauled the bear trap down the hill and set it up in front of the raccoon trap, chaining it to a large tree and disguising it as best I could with leaves and dirt. Finally, I sprayed some bear and raccoon repellant around the surrounding area. I've never used a steel-jawed trap on an animal before—I've only ever used humane, catch-and-release-style traps for pest control and I'd like to keep it that way. It was my hope that the repellant would deter the animals from getting too close.
I stayed up the entirety of Thursday night for nothing. No animals graced the trail cam feed, nor did any monsters.
Friday night was similarly slow. I spent so many lonely hours struggling to write my speech and staring at grainy trail cam footage. Maybe I was going a little crazy from my self-imposed isolation, but I kept thinking I saw something moving in the background of Site D.
Last night was when everything went to hell. The slab of meat had been so thoroughly ravaged by flies that I swapped it out for a new one on Saturday evening. Then, I returned to my room to wait. At 3 in the morning, long after my grandparents had gone to sleep, something in the Site C camera caught my eye. Movement in the brush. Depressions in the grass, so slight I never would've seen them if I wasn't looking for them. I held my breath …
And then the bear trap snapped shut.
I stood up from my desk, ecstatic that I'd finally caught my prey and terrified that I'd finally have to confront it. With shaking hands, I quickly tied my shoes and fitted a headlamp over my forehead. As I prepared to leave, the bear trap thrashed around on my screen, presumably as whatever entity it held fought for escape. The last thing I grabbed before I jogged into the night was my granddad's rifle from his gun safe.
Once outside, I made my way towards the bottom of the hill. The weight of the gun in my hand gave me some reassurance as I descended, but I was still more scared than I'd like to admit. Eventually, I drew close enough to the trap to hear the clink of the metal chain. I clicked on my headlamp to see what I'd caught.
There was a woman sitting on the ground, her back towards me. Her hair was blonde, her frame was thin, and she wore a black dress similar to the one I'd seen on the woman outside of Sundae Central. The sight of that dress made my heart sink—instantly, I knew that I was dealing with more than one enemy.
The woman turned around to look at the source of the light, and as she did so, she released her leg. She'd been holding her trapped foot up to her mouth with both hands, and from the look of the gaping wound below her calf, she'd been trying to bite through her leg to free herself. The sight of all that gore made me sick to my stomach. When she saw me, she rose to her feet, though how she could possibly stand in such a state I couldn't fathom.
I pointed the rifle at her. Her lips and chin were completely stained with blood, but I could get a good look at the rest of her face—at her reddish-brown eyes and straight nose, at her freckles and pale skin. Unlike the dark haired woman I'd seen before Liam's death, this woman seemed more corporeal. There was none of the dizzying, distorted effect I'd gotten from looking at the other woman for too long. This woman also seemed younger. She shouldn't possibly have been older than 25.
"What are you?" I asked. She didn't respond, nor did she move at all. Blood dripped off of her chin and pooled on the forest floor beneath her.
"What are you doing in my town?" No response but an unblinking stare and an apathetic expression. I asked her a few more questions, though what exactly I said I can't remember, before finally asking her about Liam.
"My best friend was murdered two weeks ago, for no reason at all. Did you kill him? Did your friend?"
At that, the woman lowered her gaze. Her lips parted, revealing two sets of teeth—a row of normal, human teeth in front, and a row of jagged, shark-like teeth behind them.
"I didn't kill him, but I'm sorry he had to die." Her voice was surprisingly soft, but her words were difficult to make out. It seemed difficult, almost painful, to talk around so many teeth.
"What do you mean 'had to die'?"
"He interfered. He saw too much. And now so have you." Her tone carried no malice and her expression looked almost remorseful. I kept the rifle trained on her, but I took a few steps forward, studying her face. I noticed that she had two beauty marks, one under her left eye and one above her left eyebrow. The weird thing is, I'm pretty sure I've seen a girl with those exact birthmarks before. In fact, the longer I looked at her the more familiar she seemed, but I couldn't for the life of me put my finger on where I'd seen her before.
"Do I know you from somewhere?" I asked her, and she looked surprised.
"I don't …" She started, and then trailed off. She turned away from me, peering intently into the dark woods. I heard something faint, like boughs snapping in the distance, and a familiar feeling settled in my gut. I felt like I was back in the car outside Sundae Central, face to face with the thing that would eventually kill my best friend. Whatever I'd seen that night, I got the sense that it was approaching.
The blonde woman looked back towards me. "You should go," she said, and I didn't have to be told twice. I took one last look at her, trying to take in every detail of her face, and then I turned around and ran for my house.
By the time I was halfway up the hill, I was certain that I was being followed. I could feel a presence behind me, yet I heard no one: no heavy breathing, no snapping of twigs underfoot. Figuring that I couldn't hear my pursuer because they were too far behind me, I risked a glance backwards and failed to stop the scream that escaped me.
Less than five feet behind me was the dark haired woman I'd seen outside the ice cream shop. I have no idea how she got so close behind me without making a sound. Though I only caught the briefest glimpse of her face, I saw that her lips were torn at the corners, allowing her to open her mouth unnaturally wide. Like the blonde girl I'd spoken to, this woman's mouth was cluttered with a double-row of jagged teeth. Figuring I could run faster without my rifle, I threw my it at the woman and put everything I could into that final sprint towards my house.
I didn't stop or look behind me until I was inside with the door shut and locked. I couldn't believe I'd made it in one piece. Hurrying to the back window, I looked out across the backyard and saw, at the very edge of the property, the faint shape of the dark-haired woman. She was perfectly still, staring in the direction of the greenhouse, though at what exactly I'm still not sure. After a few minutes, she turned around and disappeared past the treeline. Her long, black dress swayed around her ankles and made her look like she was floating instead of walking on two feet.
The recording from Site C ended abruptly after I left the scene. When I returned to the scene in the daylight this morning, I found the camera in pieces at the base of the tree it was once hanging on. I also found that the bear trap itself was nowhere in sight. The chain I had used to tie it to a nearby tree was now connected to nothing, leaving me to wonder if the dark-haired woman bit clean through the metal links in order to free her friend.
It's Sunday now, and while I'm in desperate need of some sleep, I wanted to make sure I wrote everything down before I forgot all the details. Though I've learned a lot from my experiment, every new revelation has resulted in more questions. I know that I'm dealing with more than one creature, but I don't know what they are or what they want. I know that Liam was killed for "interfering", but with what exactly I have no clue. The blonde woman's face is still fresh in my mind; maybe I should draw a sketch or something before I go to sleep. She seems so very familiar, and I feel like if I figure out where I've seen her before, I might be one step closer to unraveling this whole fucked-up mystery. I also finally got cleared to visit Fred this week, so hopefully he'll shed some light on what we're dealing with.
Until then, I just have to pray that no sharp-toothed women kill me in my sleep for "seeing too much." I hate that they know where I live now, and that I have no clue how many of them there are. Whatever the case, I'm going to do my best to get to the bottom of it, and try to keep you all updated as I do.
Wish me luck.

So for about a year now I’ve been struggling with some intense PTSD from a school shooting I was involved in. I think I’ve finally reached the point where I’m proud to say that Jesus healed me. I was in Christian counseling and idk if that really helped, but it’s been a few months since I’ve had any terrible dreams. In January I graduated and moved to a new place. Naturally I wanted to find a great church in the area for faith and friendship, so I was church shopping. On this specific Sunday it was the day before the first anniversary of the event, so I was already a bit anxious. I didn’t know anyone at the church and I was alone, but quickly someone invited me to sit next to them. I literally didn’t remember her name at the time and she asked me during worship if she could pray for me and I literally broke down and I could not stop crying and shaking, and her and a few others laid their hands on me in prayer. They just spoke out the fear, anxiety, and dreams in the name of Jesus. And I can honestly say that week was tough but they’ve been praying for me since and I really do think that Jesus healed my mind. I got involved in that church and found a great small group. I really didn’t believe that Jesus could heal in this day and age because I had never seen it - but I think this is exactly how He does it, and I think he’s done it with my mind.
Feeling so grateful, and faithful, although a bit apprehensive.
Just thought I’d share. Has anyone had a similar experience?

First Reading - Gn 3:9-15
But the Lord God called to the man, and said to him, “Where are you?” ¹⁰ And he said, “I heard the sound of thee in the garden, and I was afraid, because I was naked; and I hid myself.” ¹¹ He said, “Who told you that you were naked? Have you eaten of the tree of which I commanded you not to eat?” ¹² The man said, “The woman whom thou gavest to be with me, she gave me fruit of the tree, and I ate.” ¹³ Then the Lord God said to the woman, “What is this that you have done?” The woman said, “The serpent beguiled me, and I ate.” ¹⁴ The Lord God said to the serpent,
“Because you have done this, cursed are you above all cattle, and above all wild animals; upon your belly you shall go, and dust you shall eat all the days of your life. ¹⁵ I will put enmity between you and the woman, and between your seed and her seed; he shall bruise your head,^\)^a\) and you shall bruise his heel.”
Responsorial Psalm - Ps 130:1-2, 3-4, 5-6, 7-8
Second Reading - 2 Cor 4:13—5:1
Since we have the same spirit of faith as he had who wrote, “I believed, and so I spoke,” we too believe, and so we speak, ¹⁴ knowing that he who raised the Lord Jesus will raise us also with Jesus and bring us with you into his presence. ¹⁵ For it is all for your sake, so that as grace extends to more and more people it may increase thanksgiving, to the glory of God.
¹⁶ So we do not lose heart. Though our outer nature is wasting away, our inner nature is being renewed every day. ¹⁷ For this slight momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, ¹⁸ because we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen; for the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal.
5 For we know that if the earthly tent we live in is destroyed, we have a building from God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens.
Gospel - Mk 3:20-35
and the crowd came together again, so that they could not even eat. ²¹ And when his family heard it, they went out to seize him, for people were saying, “He is beside himself.” ²² And the scribes who came down from Jerusalem said, “He is possessed by Be-el′zebul, and by the prince of demons he casts out the demons.” ²³ And he called them to him, and said to them in parables, “How can Satan cast out Satan? ²⁴ If a kingdom is divided against itself, that kingdom cannot stand. ²⁵ And if a house is divided against itself, that house will not be able to stand. ²⁶ And if Satan has risen up against himself and is divided, he cannot stand, but is coming to an end. ²⁷ But no one can enter a strong man’s house and plunder his goods, unless he first binds the strong man; then indeed he may plunder his house.
²⁸ “Truly, I say to you, all sins will be forgiven the sons of men, and whatever blasphemies they utter; ²⁹ but whoever blasphemes against the Holy Spirit never has forgiveness, but is guilty of an eternal sin”— ³⁰ for they had said, “He has an unclean spirit.”
And his mother and his brothers came; and standing outside they sent to him and called him. ³² And a crowd was sitting about him; and they said to him, “Your mother and your brothers^\)^a\) are outside, asking for you.” ³³ And he replied, “Who are my mother and my brothers?” ³⁴ And looking around on those who sat about him, he said, “Here are my mother and my brothers! ³⁵ Whoever does the will of God is my brother, and sister, and mother.”
I have been listening to Fr. Mike's "Bible in a Year" podcast for a while now, and I remember back when I listened to the episode for day 1, he talked about how critical it is that we read Genesis right, because how we read Genesis will shed light on how we read the entire rest of Scripture! I think that is especially true here in our first reading.
We have the scene set. Adam and Eve have just eaten the forbidden fruit, God enters stage left and says "Where are you?" There are 2 ways that we could read this "WHERE ARE YOU?!" or "Where are you?" It is far to easy to make God the bad guy, to make Him the angry father who is hunting down Adam and Eve to be like "When I find you, I am gonna whoop your a**!" level of vindication. Or we can read it as a loving Father seeking out his children.
When Adam tells God, "We were naked. We were hiding from you." God says "What? Have you eaten from the tree of which I have commanded you not to eat?" Instead of owning up to the mistake, Adam goes "She made me do it." and then Eve goes "Well the serpent made me do it." We pass the blame off.
But look at what comes next: God curses the serpent. He says "You are going to loose." The woman (or the seed of the woman depending on how it is translated) is going to crush you. This is the very first Messianic prophecy. He then turns to Adam and Eve, and he says "You failed to love me. Because of that, I am now going to allow you to feel pain for those that you love." The woman is going to bear a child, she will love the child more than anything, but in giving birth, she is going to feel pain. The man, who works hard to provide for his family, will toil and sweat. God is not cursing humanity, He is teaching them. He is teaching them a very important lesson: love hurts. Our love costs us something, whether that is time, money, emotional pain, physical pain, or even our life.
Lastly, coming full circle here, we read in the Gospel: All sins and blasphemies will be forgiven us!
That's awesome! But then Jesus tells us that blasphemy against the Holy Spirit will never be forgiven...
Wait. What? What about all blasphemies being forgiven?
Well, St. Augustine seems to offer a sufficient solution here. He suggests that what Jesus is getting at is that "impenitence" is the blasphemy which cannot be forgiven. For it is the Holy Spirit which grants us God's grace and forgiveness. As such, to blaspheme against the Holy Spirit is a refusal to repent.
I have mentioned this before, but will say it again, to quote the Holy Father, Pope Francis, "God never grows tired of forgiving us. We are the ones who grow tired of asking."
Jesus told his apostles "Those whose sins you forgive are forgiven them." GO TO CONFESSION! My understanding is you can still confess to a Catholic priest even if you cannot receive sacramental absolution, but anything you confess is still forgiven and still protected by the Seal of Confession. Seek out God's mercy!
Everyone, you are fighting a battle that you cannot lose so long as you are willing to keep fighting!
We will close with the Fatima Prayer:
In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.
O My Jesus, forgive us our sins. Save us from the fires of Hell. Lead all souls to Heaven, especially those in most need of Thy mercy!
St. Faustina, patron saint of mercy, pray to Jesus for us.
Saints Lucia, Francisco, and Jacinta, pray to Jesus for us.
Mary, Virgin and Mother of God, pray to Jesus for us.
All of God's saints and angels who are in Heaven, pray to Jesus for us.
In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.

This theory isn’t super serious. It’s mostly just having some fun and is mostly based on ~feelings~
Bonus chapter from ACOSF has Feyre and Rhysand naming their baby. Rhysand says he would never name their son something ridiculous. Feyre says she doesn’t believe him because his family name, and Rhysand acts like he hates his surname.
ANYWAY, after reading HOFAS, I am wondering if Rhys’ surname is… Quinlan.
Reasons:
Quinlan basically means “attractive form” which… if that’s part of their language and known would be kind of embarrassing.

The petite female seemed to repeat Bryce’s words to the others. The female with the tattooed hands asked Bryce a question in their language. The petite one translated: “She wants to know what your name is.”
Bryce glanced from the tattooed female to the beautiful male at her side. They both possessed an air of quiet, gentle authority. The others all seemed to wait for their cues. So Bryce addressed the two of them as she lifted her chin. “My name is Bryce Quinlan.”
The male stepped forward, tucking in his wings. He smiled slightly and said in the Old Language, in a voice like glorious night, “Hello, Bryce Quinlan. My name is Rhysand.”

It’s when Bryce says her name that Rhysand finally says something.
Then, in HOFAS when Rhysand is making introductions

Rhysand snapped his fingers and three chairs appeared behind them. He sank gracefully onto one, crossing an ankle over a knee. The epitome of Fae beauty and arrogance. He glanced up at his companions. “Azriel.” He motioned lazily to the male. Then to the female. “Amren.”
Then he motioned to Bryce and said neutrally, “Bryce … Quinlan.”

It’s the pause Rhys makes before announcing Bryce’s surname that strikes me as weird and is basically why I think Rhys’ last name is Quinlan, or some version of it. The pause could be indicative of him not remembering the name, but I think it’s fun to think it’s because he’s a bit incredulous she has the same last name as him. We know they’re distantly related, and maybe learning her name is why they decided to treat her nicer than they would others who show up in the same situation.

It's been one week since he stopped talking. I have a lot of great things going for me and trying to focus on that and remain grateful but can't stop ruminating over the situation and his words. I'm trying to enjoy life and the trip I'm currently on that's fully funded by my institution. ( Helping with the refugee crisis and achieving health equity. I have my therapist appointment coming up soon ( she's also Muslim yay). I feel sad having to start this process all over again. It's already been hard my parents are trying there best to look and I feel so embarrassed and bad that I had just told them about this guy and wanting to inquire more and willing to meet him and his family.
Recap : I was talking to a brother, and things seemed to be going well. We discussed various aspects of our future together, including religious practices and family values. He would often talk about our future, which made me hopeful and excited. However, after not hearing from him for a day, I was suddenly hit with a message saying we are not compatible and that it's not his fault for wanting someone who comes from a fully Muslim household.
He mentioned my Christian mother as a negative, despite me being a practicing Muslim (I was born Muslim) and striving daily to get closer to the deen. My dad is Muslim, and my parents are still married. I grew up primarily with my dad's side of the family and was raised with strong Islamic values. My mom, although Christian, pushed me to learn how to read the Quran and to understand its meaning, and she raised me to be Muslim. On top of that, I have aunts who are devout Muslim women and all wear hijab ..... So him saying I have no Muslim women role models is hurtful and false. He has known from start my mom is Christian. The thing I agree only with is me traveling alone which I think was really the main factor but I had said if we were married I wouldn't travel alone without a mahram id obliged to the Hadith. This is the first and only time I'm traveling alone.
The messages below I feel it was very hurtful and disrespectful . ( I pray 5 times a day Tahajjud trying to read the Qu'ran more and memorize. I grew up in a joint family with my paternal side. My mom raised me Muslim Alhumduliah parents are still married. My mom in fact has expressed for my dad to take us to do Hajj and the importance to do it. I'm not a hijabi yet but am working towards it.) No means am I'm saying I'm perfect I have my flaws.
Him: Hey Salam, let me break it to u. me and u we are not compatible to be honest. I have to be really careful picking up who I share life with. U know women are crazy over here they initiate most of the divorces, because u follow how u feel not god , that's exactly the type of partner that's a no go for me. I told u I'm super traditional like we don't have exiled ppl in my family we don't marry kafer women to get confused kids tbh we don't do divorces because we don't just pick up any white woman from the street. My issue with u to be honest even tho ur a good person, u don't really come from a Muslim house and u don't have a Muslim woman role model. Basically ur mother is not Muslim so she can't set an example of what a Muslim woman is like. And again to be honest I dont find this my fault I'm looking for a traditional person and just normal Muslim that follow the deen in their life actions. Plus ur too busy for me ur focused in ur career too much and I don't want to change that. Like I don't want to come and be with u and I have to change u. Like I think i was trying to tell u last time I didn't get to continue talking, i wouldn't know what to do but kill myself if I have a woman brought shame to my family like my sister or any of our woman. So this is big for us Muslims and it seems that u don't understand those stuff.
Me: I have my aunts and grandmother who are Muslim women as influences. Allah yerhamha
(all hijabis)
Him: But still that's not like ur mother. Like half of ur other family is Christians. And what I meant by direct influence or a woman Muslim role model is like u seeing how ur mother treats ur father in a Muslim matter on everything she does, and I'm sorry ur mother is not Muslim so she won't be able to do that. So now u wanna tell me u act more like ur aunt than ur mom? U don't wear hijab just like ur mom, u care about ur career a lot like u told me like ur mom. So I didn't know that would be an issue knowing that ur not raised in a fully Muslim family. I thought i should be fair and give it a chance and not judge u according to ur family. Because u could have been exactly what I wanted. And btw I didn't say I want just an eastern woman, I said I want a Muslim woman u tend to find them more over there. And there is Muslim women here who wear the hijab and do what a Muslim does regardless because there is no law that says u can't be Muslim fully. So don't think it's because of u being western is the main problem, u being influenced a lot by the west that is the problem, so we could have been still talking. Since u said that u were traveling to overseas it just made me know I'm gonna have a lot of problems, it actually got me sad that we are not compatible.
The truth sometimes hurt, I didn't want to lie to you. I was gonna tell you the situation how it is so u don't be confused and I owe u that.
He sent 2 voice messages after the text that just disrespected me, my family and upbringing. Handed it by telling me he hopes I change to find a better man.
I did agree and acknowledge that it isn't right of me to travel alone. But at first had originally told me wasn't mad that just if we were married wouldn't travel alone which I'm fine with and prefer.

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

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

You are NOT ready for this.
Enjoy~
IMPORTANT: When copying and pasting my scripts from Google Docs to Reddit, all of the italics in the scripts vanish, which means that a lot of words lose their intended emphasis. Due to this, I highly encourage you to read the script on the original document, which can be found at the end of this post! Thank you!
_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Context
Whilst melancholic tensions brew between Caspian and the human, far away, in the grass, there lies the remnants of an unfortunate affair. With clotted blood upon his brow, and a bullet lodged within his brain, Elias claws through the dirt and dew to escape the rising of the morning sun. He continues to drag his weakened body through the muck, cursing the outcast and everything he stands for, until, suddenly… he hears a voice. A cruel voice, a loving voice, a voice of authority and allure. The voice… of a master.
BEGIN
[The scene opens with the gentle chirping of the morning birds, alongside the staggered breaths of Elias, who is dragging himself across the ground. He claws into the dirt, attempting to pull his body towards the shade of the trees. He speaks in an irritated tone.]
[E] “That halfwit. That… That-”
[A slither of sunlight catches his leg, causing him to recoil slightly. He hisses under his breath.]
“Bastard. Why must the sun rise so hurriedly? I must retreat- I need shade.”
[There’s a small pause as he continues to drag himself across the ground.]
“That dreaded outcast… How is an embarrassment like him able to nurture such strange and useless bonds? The gunman and that beloved fishmonger of his- it’s… it’s absurd. I don’t understand.”
[A brief pause.]
“Please, Master… remain faithful, for I shall ensure that the outcast is dealt with promptly. I’ll string him up and watch with glee as he squirms and chokes, I’ll dismember him for your enjoyment, I-”
[Suddenly, a deep and commanding voice interrupts him from among the trees. Elias stops and looks around in surprise, trying to pinpoint the direction of the voice.]
[???] “Selfish fool. The words you speak are of your own fantasies, not mine.”
[E] “That voice. It cannot be.”
[???] “You test my faith, Elias Acker, for all that I have witnessed from your reckless behaviour is failure. Caspian is not the object of my interest… the human is. You are losing sight of this.”
[E] “I’m not, I swear it! Your wishes are all that I care for-”
[???] “Silence! Do not feed me such lies.”
[A dark figure emerges from between the trees and slowly approaches Elias.]
[E] “M-Master! Please, I do not wish to lie to you. I wouldn’t dream of it.”
[M] “Quit your begging. It’s repulsive.”
[The Master stops in front of Elias, who remains on the ground. Elias cranes his neck up weakly to look at his Master.]
“I gave you a task. A simple one, at that. Your job was, and still is, to retrieve the human and bring them to the Abbey, and I have yet to see the human pass through my doors. I am right to believe that you are aware of how… unsatisfactory this is, yes?”
[E] “Of course! Yes, I know perfectly well how disappointing the fruits of my labour have been so far, but-”
[The Master lets out a short and amused laugh at Elias.]
[M] “Fruits… itane est?”
[E] “Quidem est. I believe I have made progress.”
[M] “What sort of progress, pray tell?”
[E] “Hitch and that little friend of his are vulnerable. They lack the strength to fight back-”
[M] “And yet here you lie with a bullet in your head.”
[Elias falls silent.]
“Rise, my child.”
[There’s a small pause as Elias staggers up. Once he stands up, the Master reaches towards and holds the side of his head, inspecting the bullet wound.]
“Hmm. I must say, the human that shot you did a remarkable job. We may have a hunter on our hands.”
[E] “I doubt it. A real hunter would’ve sawed my head off.”
[M] “Indeed. Though, he still aimed for your head regardless. ‘Tis a killer's instinct, a hunter’s reflex. He may cause us some trouble.”
[E] “Like I said, I doubt i-”
[Before he can finish his sentence, the Master slips his fingers into Elias' bullet wound. The wound makes squishing sounds as he feels for the bullet. Elias represses a grunt as he does so.]
[M] “Calm yourself and stay still. If I am to perform one kind act today, it shall be to remove this bullet. If your body heals over it, it will surely become a nuisance. I want my children to be healthy, not irritated.”
…
“I would also prefer it if my children were to cease their useless fixations on those who do not serve us anymore.”
[E] “But he’s insane! You cannot reject what is innate!”
[After he speaks, the Master pulls the bullet out of Elias' head. He twiddles it between his fingers and chuckles as Elias hisses under his breath from the pain.]
[M] “I understand your irritation, but I’m afraid the outcast has made his decision. Although, I must say, these nights I see a guilt-ridden gleam about his eyes. He’s struggling, but how long will he continue to do so? That is the question.”
[Elias gently holds his hand over the bullet wound, wincing slightly from the pain.]
[E] “It’s not long now, my Master. He’s a beaten mutt who knows that his end is creeping upon the horizon. If I could just wring his neck once again, I assure you, I would put an end to his miserable life once and for a-”
[Without warning, the Master strikes Elias’ cheek with his hand. He falls silent, as the Master criticises him.]
[M] “Enough. What a weak minded fool you are. Once again, you devote your focus to the outcast, and not the human. If you continue to act like this, I will not hesitate to withdraw you from your duties and throw you to the sunlight. Do I make myself clear?”
[A brief pause passes. The Master glares at Elias.]
“Elias-?”
[E] “Yes, Master.”
[M] “Good.”
[E] “Although… May I ask a question?”
[The Master thinks for a second, his eyes still glaring down at Elias.]
[M] “You may.”
[E] “...What purpose does the human serve? Surely they are not needed for your Great Plan?”
[The Master chuckles sinisterly.]
[M] “No, no, they are not. My plan is coming along quite nicely without them.”
[E] “It is?”
[M] “Indeed. The Demeter will make port at Whitby in only three nights, and from there we shall travel down to London and claim our right to national dominance. You and the rest of my children shall soon thrive off of this land, and take your pick of the cattle that run rife within these filthy towns and cities.”
…
“It will all be ours, as I had promised.”
[E] “Then… Pray tell, why do you need the human?”
[A brief pause passes as the Master thinks. He takes a step towards the trees and beckons Elias with his hand.]
[M] “Walk with me.”
[Elias obeys and walks alongside the Master into the woodland.]
“Do you remember, many moons go, when a new family had taken claim of the old house by the harbour?”
[E] “I-I apologise, I don’t believe I do.”
[M] “Well, tension began to rise between the two of us. For, you see, this family had made plans to renovate the Abbey, and, as you can obviously assume, this little goal of theirs was completely out of the question.”
…
“I posed as the Abbey’s priest, and took it upon myself to ensure that these dirty fisher folk stayed put at the harbour, where they belonged. But, alas, they challenged me. They stated that a distant relative of theirs passed the Abbey down to them through inheritance, but I hardly believed it. A poor fishing family, gifted an Abbey out of pure relation?”
[He chuckles.]
“‘Twas positively absurd. They continued their verbal onslaught for many days and nights, squabbling about their right of ownership, until, finally, I had lost my patience.”
[E] “What did you do?”
[The Master stops walking, and so does Elias. The Master turns to face him.]
[M] “I killed them. Sucked them dry until they were nothing but piles of pruned, rotting flesh. Usually, I would be pleased about this, if it was not for the one human who managed to escape my grasp.”
[Elias mumbles to himself, realising who exactly that human is.]
[E] “Hitch’s new friend…”
[M] “This is no fixation, my child. Nor an obsession. ‘Tis simply a desire to finish what I had started long ago, to complete my delectable collection. If the human remains alive, then the fate of the Abbey may fall out of our hands.”
[E] “Surely that isn’t possible?”
[M] “I have witnessed it all. I have watched peasants wear crowns, and kings slumbering in the muck. The human must be slain, and I shall do the honours. I want that human to be bound to my altar and given up to my greed-ridden fangs, I want to smell the blood coursing through their veins, and I want most of all for their influence over my children to be put to an end.”
[E] “Hitch failed to prove his loyalty to us, and yet you still address him as one of your children? Why?”
[M] “It is true that he has become disloyal, and, I admit, his repression of my gaze is rather admirable, but he is a child of the night, regardless. He shares the same primitive desires as you and I, only he exercises control over his urges. He may pretend to be human, yes, but he knows just as well as us that he is a monster, through and through.”
…
“But I digress. The only being who we are concerned with, at this very moment, is the human, and the human alone. Do you understand?”
[E] “Yes, Master.”
[M] “Good. Consider yourself lucky. I do not spare this much faith for someone of the likes of you. Allowing you to see me is a privilege in itself, my child, and it would be quite irksome if one were to… betray my trust.”
[E] “I would never. Not even in my wildest dreams would I consider doing such a thing. I am, and will forever be, your most ardent servant.”
[Elias takes a bow, and a brief pause follows. The Master smiles to himself.]
[M] “Your obedience is pleasing, but it will take more than words to satisfy me.”
…
“Bring the human to the Abbey doors, and only then shall they open for you. Do not return empty-handed. Understood?”
[E] “Yes, Master, of course-”
[Rising from his bow, Elias realises that the Master has vanished.]
“He’s gone.”
[A brief pause. He lets out an irritated sigh and begins walking again, mumbling under his breath as he does so.]
“Curse you, Hitch. Curse. You.”
[After a short while of walking, the distant voices of Abraham and Elissia can be heard approaching.]
[A] “I shot him up, I did. Aimed for his cranium and let my bullets ring! I tell ya, doctor, you just had to be there.”
[DE] “I did not, thank you. Your… graphic retelling is more than enough.”
[Elias stops walking, realising who the voice belongs to.]
[E] “The gunman…”
[He hides behind a tree as Abraham and Elissia continue their conversation. Their voices become gradually louder.]
[A] “Graphic? I thought you were a lady of science? You doctors always have yer elbows down deep in guts and blood.”
[DE] “Well-”
[She takes on a hushed tone, like she doesn’t want anyone else to hear her.]
“Well, yes, we do…”
[Her voice returns to normal.]
“But don’t go blabbering about those details out in the open. Have you read the papers? Don’t you know that there’s still a stigma against doctors?”
[A] “Aye, I do. But no one can hear us here.”
[DE] “... I suppose you're right. Although, if there’s one thing I know for certain, it is that something is always waiting around the corner. Take my students, for example. When acquiring their cadavers for our practicals, they are, more often than not, caught by a policeman prowling in the back alleys. Things may seem easy, but, in reality, you have already failed. That is why I am so cautious, vampire hunter. Unlike you.”
[They pass Elias, who continues to keep his eyes on Abraham.]
[A] “Hey, don’t go yapping on about that stuff. There’s a stigma, ya know.”
[Realising what she had done, Elissia gasps and covers her mouth. Abraham lets out a short laugh.]
“Need not worry, doc. It’s still early hours, which means we’re alone.”
[DE] “Are you certain?”
[A] “Absolutely-”
[Abraham stops walking as he notices something… strange. Elissia takes a couple more steps before stopping and turning to face him.]
[DE] “Hm? What’s the matter?”
[A] “Uhm… Nothing. Yeah, nothing.”
[DE] “Well, let's continue then, shall we? We have lots to discuss.”
[A] “... Right.”
[Elissia continues walking, meanwhile Abraham remains still, staring at a patch of dried blood on the grass. He mumbles to himself.]
[A] “That blood… I-I shot him, but… where’s the body?”
[Elissia calls out to him.]
[DE] “Are you following, Abraham?”
[He begins to walk away, still mumbling to himself.]
[A] “Must be body snatchers.”
[He calls out to Elissia.]
“Right behind ya, doc.”
[A small pause passes as their walking grows more and more distant, leaving Elias by himself.]
[E] “Watch your back, hunter. One never knows what is lurking around the corner.”
[He chuckles. The morning ambience fades to silence.]
END
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I recently have had multiple abdominal surgeries.
5'2" 175lbs Female 44 years old
Diagnosis: Ulcerative Colitis Ehlers Donlos Syndrome POTS PCOS Psariatic Arthritis and Psoriasis Migraines Neuropathy in legs feet arms hand Degenerative disc disorder and 2 herniated discs Fibromyalgia
I have had 6 TIAs
Medications: 100mlg metoprolol 30mlg Cyclobenzaprine 1000mlg Mesothelimine 40 mlg Omniprazal
I take Tylenol and Ibuprofen for pain. I won't lie....it doenst help much at all.....the way pain management is handled these days I'd rather die than deal with the pain management and how I was treated. I was prescribed medical Marijuana but don't care much to be high. I have children and honestly even as a teenager I didn't like to feel high.
Due to my connective tissue disease I have had an umbilical hernia repair 3 times over the span of 3 years and in addition had a pretty large hematoma removed after one of the surgeries and another abscess after that removed. Those were weeks apart from the last hernia repair. That was repaired with mesh. I then had an issue with the mesh being rejected a few months later and an infection so it had to be removed. At that time they removed my entire umbilical area and the mesh. Very shortly after that I somehow managed to get a very large bilateral hernia, another just above the previous umbilical hernia and a few other smaller ones. So basically surgery in the exact same area bigger each time 7 times. I am assuming the weakness of my connective tissue is the reason because i have been very careful to not pull or pick up heavy items. That last surgery left me with an incision area that literally looks as though I was almost cut in half. About 15 inches maybe more. The entire front and sides of my mid abdominal area. Needless to say i have no belly button. The surgeon called my husband in while I was opened to show him how bad it was. My stomach and intestines were bound along with tissue in the multiple tears. What they removed was the size of an infant he said. It's has been 2 months. I was doing good. The pain was subsiding and my movement was tolerable and sufficient.
The current issue: Last week I fell. My POTS caused me to fall unfortunately. Yes, I did pass out for a short time. I landed on the edge of an appliance right on the incision area. Right after that I rested and applied ice to the area. It was sore on the right side directly on the incision but not enough to cause me alot of concern. The next day it was more sore and I could feel hard lumps and what feels like a small hard ball directly under the incision. Each day since the pain has increased and now my entire upper abdominal area above the incision up to the bottom of my breast's is hurting. It burns and feels like there is pressure. Like something trying to push out. I have not slept for two days due to how uncomfortable it is.
I am absolutely terrified I have another tear. Is that likely? I don't think I could survive another surgery like that last one. I wanted to die the pain was so bad. And 3 days of inadequate pain medication is absolutely not enough for that type of surgery and recovery. In my opinion inhumane. If I could have gotten to something I would have ended my life. I was begging my husband to let me die. That is how severe it was. Can someone survive that many abdominal surgeries? In addition to all if those repairs I have also had my gallbladder removed. A vertical sleeve gasterectomy, endometriosis removed 3 times (once from my intestines). I've had a uterine ablation, a tubal ligation, and have lost 5 children so multiple D&Cs. No live births. I have 2 adopted daughters and a step daughter. The youngest is 8. I have a history of CDiff, anemia, sepsis, and septic shock.
My husband is very concerned and I do not want to tell him how scared I am. I am afraid to go to the doctor. He sees me holding my abdomen when i move. I really do not think I could survive another surgery with the pain management so poor. I end up in constant tachycardia when that happens. The POTS seems to be especially bad when the pain is severe. I pass out any time I change position and usually need transfusions for anemia. It makes recovery unbearable to the point thay I would pray to never wake up.
Please advise me on if it's possible this could just be simple and internal bruising. If it does require another surgery how can I get them to understand my POTS and Fibromyalgia makes being in intense pain 10 times more difficult to recover from. I am in a 3rd world foreign country, Egypt. I have been for the last two surgeries which amplifies my fear. The doctors are not familiar with my history and won't even review my records. I have begged them to. My husband has begged them to.
Thank you in advance for any guidance you can offer.

Book One: Edge of Madness - Chapter One First Chapter Previous
They called him the champion of the Talisi. A lost prince, a man touched by the Gods. They spoke his name in the same context as the Vigons. They regarded him as one would a holy object, placed there to remind all that hope is not lost. Mairek lay in a bed weaved of vine reeds. He felt hopeless, encroached on all sides by a looming dread he could not quite determine its source. There were expectations that had to be met. With hope came the assurance of victory and the Talisi wanted war. They wanted to parade him at the forefront of the Talisi Green army. Dress him in green metal and have him wield half a spear.
Yes, half a spear. His signature trade mark. It was half a spear he'd used upon the Ganidan plain, all those months ago. It was half a spear that he'd used to turn the tide against the Binorians. And here, in his room within the Palace. It is half a spear that lay beside him.
He'd tried to return to Jamou, the village he and Ishar hailed from. But the Talisi would not have it. An entire cohort came for him, his father had stood outside their home, tears of disbelief streaming down his face as he watched his son being dragged away to Central Talisi. To stand before the new King of the Talisi, the late King Gans's son, King Mogich. There, before the King, he was forced to retell the events of the Ganidan Plain. Where forty thousand Talisi men had stood against half a million Binorian Legions. Where Talisi had lost its king. The Red Priests of Meena had gathered around the silver throne of the King, intent on discrediting his every word for his theatrics upon the plain did not come as a result of his connection to their Goddess Meena. No. It was another God's blessing that had been bestowed upon him.
A blessing that ensured he was free of the bubble of time. A blessing that enabled him to foretell the future, experience the present and derive meaning from the past in a way nobody ever has or will. He was against the flow of time, not as Ishar was with his blessing of chaos, no, for him perception graced his every thought and action. And time, ever present, sought a way to purge him free of the realm. But for now it ignored him as did he it.
He rejected the giant chamber that had been offered him. The windows were dangerous, a stray arrow from the Army practicing grounds could find him in his bed as he lay asleep. He rejected servants for one might accidentally trip and wash him with scalding hot water meant for his bath. Every option afforded him came with the tinge of time and its need to be rid of him. He evaded all options before they availed themselves and here, he found himself now. In a single room, narrow with four walls all around. No windows, no servants. The only opening a door and ventilation shaft above the door. Time had no means of ending him where he lay.
A wasp entered the room from the ventilation shaft, it buzzed as it explored its new found abode. Mairek grabbed the half spear laying beside his bed. He lifted and flicked it across the dimly lit room, the only light a lantern that was dwindling in fuel. The half spear spun across the room and collided with the wall before settling on the ground. At its tip sat the impaled wasp. The sharp point had impaled it through its thorax and its threat was no more. Mairek sighed and lifted his eyes to the ceiling. What I would give, Ishar, to be back in Jamou with you. You tending sheep and me tending my broken heart, where are you Ishar? I crave chaos, an end to this tide that I swim against.
It started as a cough from a servant in the Palace's coal chamber. A chamber maid tripped and fell with a curse. A Red priest yawned and within seconds Mairek knew what was happening. The movements people indulged in, the things thought to be accidents. The gestures and words and platitudes. They were all weaves upon the tapestry of time. A knock sounded at his door. He got up and answered it. Parting the door enough to confirm the heart beats he'd expected were indeed of the five men before him.
Tall men, taller than he, bulky with swords strapped to their sides. Adorned in leather armor. The best killers in Talisi. Killers hired to kill him. They had objected of course, objected the task of ridding Talisi of the only one of them who could channel a God. But Tari, Princess of Talisi and sister to King Mogich, had offered them a price they could not refuse. She hated him, of course, hated him because he was part of her father's death. Part of the reason she no longer had a father. Sure, it was Ishar who'd led King Gans to a war facing impossible odds. But Ishar wasn't around. Nobody knew where the Kolotian and his lover, Niada, had gone to. So it was up to him to suffer the consequences.
"The King requires your presence." The one at the forefront said with a slight bow. The rest of the men rested their hands on the hilt of their blades. A clear sign that they were agitated, wary even. Mariek smiled.
"You carry swords, isn't it customary for the Green Army to prefer spears save in close combat? An ideal condition such as now?" Mariek asked.
The one who'd spoken to him chuckled. "We're used to the weight of the blade, Champion of the Talisi."
Champion of the Talisi. The title was a bane to him. He wanted to thrash against its constraints, to run away, flee from the duty it demanded of him. It was mid afternoon. The Palace wasn't as packed as it was during the early hours of the day. The King would never demand his presence at night so this was the best time for their ruse. Where would they lead him to? Where would he meet his end?
"Where is the King?" Mairek asked.
"He's at the Conicual Garden, west of the Palace bridge." Their leader answered. Mairek nodded. That would be an ideal place to die. It'll give him a chance to see the river curving through Talisi, to observe the sinking sun and to be kindred once more with all that went on around him. He felt time's gentle nudge, beckoning him into its embrace where his death will spell an end to his torment. An end to the struggle against time, a struggle he was sure he could not win. Why then shouldn't he relent? Throw in the towel and call it quits? What value marked him, that a God would pick him above the rest? No, Nielda had made a mistake. What was even the point of going all the way to the garden? Wouldn't it be fitting for his end to be quick?
"I hear the King," Mairek said. "He is speaking to the Chief Palace servant about a cartload of wine due from Remu. He is in the throne room, not the garden." The men shuffled uneasily. "You're here to kill me." He took a step back, leaving his door ajar. He went to the center of the room, knelt down and bore his neck to them. "Make it quick, a quick thrust in the neck ought to do it. But then again, you guys are the experts."
They hesitated. Each uncertain of their purpose. Mairek hated uncertainty, decisions spell the destiny time offers. To titter on the brink of a decision is to waylay time's purpose. "Be quick about it! Bastards!" That did it. They lunged towards him, swords rasping as they flew free of their scabbards. The point of the swords came to him and Mairek welcomed them, a smile played across his face. It was going to be over. He closed his eyes, waited for the sword tips to bite skin, draw blood. End his life. He waited a span of seconds and nothing seemed to happen. He opened his eyes, observed the blades inches from him, frozen in time.
"You fucking cunt." Nielda, the God of Space and Time spoke from behind him. He turned, found the God lounging on his reed bed. His skin was as dark as the midnight sky, and stars riddled it. His hair, like puffs of a cloud hovered about his head. His green eyes observed him with a haughty air Mairek had become used to.
"Nielda." He said, turning to regard the God who'd chosen him as his Champion.
"You can kill them all, all five of them as you did the wasp. Yet, here you kneel, like a weakling, welcoming their blades. You paint a sorry sight. Diva." Nielda said. Diva, the word was misused by the God, having dwelt so long in the place between sky and moon, the God had lost touch with humanity, his vigil against a darkness he was hesitant to comment on had stripped Nielda of knowledge regarding the advancement of the human race.
"I just want it to end, I know no peace, Nielda. No peace at all." Mairek said. He got up off the ground, went to the rear end of the reed bed and placed himself there. Close to the naked feet of the God. The dusk colored robe adorning Nielda shifted as he sat up to regard his champion.
"Peace? When a buck grazes in the Talisi wilderness, no predator in sight. Does he regard the moment afforded it as peaceful? Does it relish in it, hence lowering its guard to fully appreciate the ambiance that comes with a lack of danger? Peace is a fickle thing, the buck knows this. Its ears are ever alert lest the sound of a Yendw wolf's approach marks the end of its peace. Is that then, what peace is? A moment between danger, afforded by pure circumstance? If such a thing is peace then what benefit is craving something you know will have an end?" Nielda raised his hand and scratched at his scalp, the hair floating about it parted for a brief moment. The God rarely had mannerisms similar to that of mankind but as time went, Mairek noticed changes in the God's disposition. "Think of your time since leaving the Ganidan Plain, Diva, has there been any instance when your life was threatened save now? Can this then be regarded as a peaceful period, a time when time has ignored you and thus given you a period of rest? Of course time wouldn't ignore you forever, it must seek to right an anomaly and you should liken this as a Yendw wolf's paw upon a branch, young buck, and this should drive you to flee knowing that the peace afforded you has reached its end."
Mairek sat with his knees brought up and his arms circling the crest of his legs. He nodded his acquiesce. His eyes moved to the five men, frozen in time, their blades pointed at where he once knelt awaiting a quick death. The buck would not await the maw of the Yendw wolf, it will flee if possible and if not it would fight, hoping for a brief respite from death that might grant it another period of peace. Is this then what peace is? "I hear everything Nielda." Mairek started. "I see everything, even with my eyes closed. I feel everything as if my hand is forever grasping things and my tongue tastes things that I am yet to consume. Is this gift of yours a mark of peace? How will my sanity be anchored to me with all that I perceive?"
Nielda sighed. "You're a dumbass Mairek. A dumbass, if you can hear everything why don't you focus on the sound that pleases you the most? If you can see everything why not focus on an image that delights your soul? Perception is not confounded on the whole, you can focus on specific aspects of it that appease you."
"Is that what you did when you hovered above space for thousands of years? Did you focus on a specific sound while you were up there among the stars?" Mairek pushed. He knew if he kept up a barrage of questions regarding Nielda's time guarding the darkness above from an ancient evil, he might gleam something... Anything that would paint a vivid picture for him, a picture whose purpose he was yet sure of.
Nielda stared at Mairek and his eyes flashed a bright blue. The assassins started moving slowly and Mairek knew that time was regaining its flow. "No." Nielda said. "The one whose voice I wanted to hear was silent."
Time resumed its course and the assassins thrust into open air. Missing their mark. They turned, puzzled expressions about their faces to regard Mairek at the foot of the reed bed. Mairek sighed. "Your deaths won't be on my head." He said as he stood up.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
The sun pierced the earth with its morning glow. Palace servants shambled about, eager to get on with their work. Guards stationed in various Palace compartments stood at alert, stifling yawns and conversing in low tones. The Palace kitchen was alight with activity, cooks chattered as dough rose and logs were fed into furnaces. Chamber maids emptied chamber pots. The King sat upon his throne and offered a silent prayer to Meena with the aid of the Red Priests, as it was custom for the King of Talisi with every new dawn. The gardeners tended the Conicual garden, pruning branches and inspecting bright colored petals. The daily routine of the Palace was under way, without a single anomaly felt or seen by all within the Palace.
It started as a scream when the maid sent to bring him his morning meal came across him leaving his tiny compartment. The maid ran away, screaming like a banshee and flinging his tray of food to the ground. Mairek flexed his shoulders and started walking towards Princess Tari's bed chamber. Where he knew she was inspecting an assortment of dresses, picking the best she would dawn for the first half of the day. With the maid's screams came the shuffling of feet, guards, cooks, gardeners, maids, Red Priests. They all flocked towards him, and when their eyes beheld him, they halted, words escaped them. Trembling gripped their limbs and all they could do was stare. They flanked him on all sides, and followed behind him at a distance. He did not turn his head to either side, he ignored them as he ignored the blood that trailed his path, marking his wake.
At another time, in another place. The five decapitated heads he held by their hair, three on his right hand and two on his left, would have sickened him. Their weight would have pulled at his soul and he would have been distressed by the action he was undertaking. But now, he felt nothing. He experienced everything and felt nothing. I am a buck, antlers riddled with the blood of a Yendw wolf, affording me an extended period of peace. And that was all he could define the moment as.
The Guards he came across took one look at him and let him pass, none too eager to test his patience. He climbed the steps leading to Princess Tari's chambers. A throng of Palace personnel behind him. The two Guards flanking either side of the Chamber's door halted him, placing heavy gauntleted hands on his chest.
"You cannot pass." One of them said, he towered over him and Mairek raised his head to observe him. He was aware of what a sight he was. Blood was sprinkled upon his face and stained his arms. The heads dripped blood on the floor and the smell of iron was rich wherever he went.
Mairek closed his eyes, felt the touch of the gauntlets upon his chest, he allowed himself to drift into the metal, to learn of its origin and how they came to be where they were now, upon him. The past is a vast sea, to swim its depths one requires a mind that can fragment, be two places at once, and in that current at the bed of time he was able to learn what he needed. He opened his eyes and turned his head to either guard. "These gauntlets, you place them on the bath house door, parting it gently to observe the Princess as she baths. A wretched thing both of you do, ogling the one you're tasked to protect. A simple reprimand wouldn't be enough, I will see both your heads on a spike at the Palace baths if you do not give me leave to do as I plan. I mean to cause no harm." He could not see their faces behind their helms, but he knew the look of shock and shame spread upon their visage. Shame, the anointed cousin of retreat, see as his gauntlets lower from my chest. See as they withdraw within, each of them eager to be rid of me within a miasma of indifference.
The Guards parted. Mairek raised a leg and knocked down the chamber door with one swift kick. The door sprung free of its hinges, tumbled and collapsed onto the ground, close to the foot of the Chamber bed. A good five feet within the Chamber. Tari stood, half naked with maids around her, her bosom rich and full, stilled as she regarded him. Then heaved as she saw what he dragged into her chamber.
Mairek walked onto the door and flung the heads onto the bed, watched as the blood seeped into the white linen cover of the duvet. Staining it a bright crimson. The heads stared in various poses, unblinking, sightless. Princess Tari gawked at them then raised her eyes to meet his.
"Their blood is on your head." Mairek said and turned around to depart. Those crowded behind him parted and in his wake eyes followed his retreating back.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXX
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Long story short, I had an unnecessary cerebral angiogram (I trusted the doctors..) 2 weeks after I got COVID for the first time. I thought I was over COVID. Right after the angiogram I started having left ear pain and now almost 3 months later the symptoms are only getting worse. It all sounds like a CSF leak to me, but a cerebral angiogram uses a catheter that stays in your arteries...how could it even come close to puncturing the dura? I'm praying it's ANYTHING else than a CSF leak. I saw some posts on here of people with long COVID symptoms...could it be long COVID?
These are my symptoms:
left ear pain, pressure fullness - pain all around neck, vascular and muscle - recurring black spot in left peripheral vision -wet feeling in left ear - ringing tinnitus - bubbling/pop noise in head and both ears all day -neck bubbling/cracking sounds - base of skull is sore - laying on back causes pain on skull base - pressure in head on top and both sides - mild throat pain in left side - muscle spasms all over body CONSTANTLY - Pressure and pain in head when bending over - double vision - base back of neck pain - occasionally pain in left eye - brain burning feeling - ears popping - right top of foot and hand tingling and numbness -Right arm heavy and tingly, on and off

Since I finally started to pray, I struggled with ablutions, I always wash and rewash and rewash the same parts over and over again, I knew I technically wash the part entirely, but I couldn't take off my hand, I feel it's just stuck, and I can't remove it, which made my ablution last 30 minutes. And for prayer, I wanted to be good, I wanted to show to my God that I take prayer seriously, so I didn't rush my prayers, but instead make them last 30 minutes (for 4 Raka'at)
But that's not it, I'm 95% worried if my wudu is still valid or not, if I do *anything* that could rise even a tad of suspicion (which is literally almost all the time), I would stress out, even if I don't think it could be enough to nullify my wudu, I still was stressed about it, and we often said to me: "then redo your ablutions (wudu) again, it's not hard". But the problem is that it is hard, I scrub and scrub and scrub, I'm tired, I guess it's still manageable, it's not like I got injured or something, but it sucks. I hate wudu for this, I despise it. So I tried to make it faster, worked a bit, now it takes me 20 minutes when I am normal, and I can do it in 15-13 minutes, but only when I literally have *no time* to do Subh prayer, that's the only time I can finally remove most of those repetitive scrubs.
As for prayer, at first I had enough patience to do my prayer long (or maybe it is not abnormal, and I am just more impatient than I should), but as time passes, I started to really avoid prayer as much as possible, only doing *right* at the end of the time, because I hated it, so I asked Allah to guide me to do my prayers in the right speed, because I feel like it is too much, but at the same time I feel like I am rushing my prayer when I do it even a little bit faster, then no time after that my mom advised me and I made my prayers faster, it was finally manageable (10-18 minutes) and I could finally feel normal with it
butttt.. at some point this peace had to be disturbed, I once simply watched a video about one massive mistake in Surat Al-Fatiha, it alarmed me, even if I think I didn't do it (or maybe I did it but not a lot) I became so self-aware, that when I am praying now, I spell Al-Fatiha and other Quranic Sourats loudly (because I whisper when I pray) because I struggle with pronunciation lately, I repeat the words over and over again,, and over and over again, like wudu, I spell every word independently so I can focus on it, I exaggerate the 'Shadda' (when a letter in Arabic is pronounced in a more accentuate way) so much that I lost breath so many times, I can't focus properly since I have to focus if I am spelling Al-fatiha right or else my prayer is invalid, and that made my prayers last 30 minutes again.
At this point, I'm lost, my hated feelings for prayer and wudu are probably exaggerated, maybe that's damn normal, and I am just too pathetic to do even that, but I can't help it. So what do I do ?

This is kind of a multi question post, so sorry about that. I'll just get right into it.
CW: mentions at Question 7 of deceased loved one
KO= Kemetic Orthodoxy
1) Is it okay to use multiple forms of cleansing? Rev. Siuda teaches to use natron water, but can I add an extra method (using a besom or hand held equivalent) into the cleansing process/alternate between? Or would doing this just be redundant/stick with the natron water instead?
2) Rev. Siuda's Prayerbook talks about the physical set up of the shrine and also set up expectations around prayer. Is it a universal requirement to specifically have the candle in the center, etc.? I used to follow the Wiccan religion, and my old shrine set up then was a little different. Honestly, the biggest thing I want to continue doing is leaving the center of the shrine empty instead of having the candle/incense/offering dish there. I specifically liked having the space open so that I can have the motion of physically handing over offerings or items. I know it's such a small gesture, but it's something that I really liked being able to do. It just makes the prayer experience more personal for me, you know? Would this be okay or should I stick to specifics from the Prayerbook?
3) Rev. Siuda also sets up an expectation for specific daily prayer. Back when I was Wiccan, I treated my altar as a more formal meeting space, so I usually only physically sat down there to pray a few times a week when something important happened or needed to be addressed and did most of my daily prayers I guess as more informal passing moment kind of things and usually as I'm laying in bed getting ready to sleep (for example, stopping to verbally say "thank you for XYZ, I really appreciate that I'm able to experience ABC"). I've kind of just been dealing with this sort of guilt that I'm not doing this "right" since I've continued to pray like that even after converting. Should I just stop taking the KO so literally and only think of them as general guidelines or do I need to buckle down and change my approach to prayer?
4) I bought a little pyramid figure (it's clear resin with gold design) and I've been wanting to gift it to the Netjer for several weeks now, but I feel like it might start breaching the territory of turning the shrine into some weird aesthetics display if I do it. Should I still gift it but place it somewhere else (I think I can make a small space on my desk atm and eventually when I get my own place, I can definitely buy a second smaller table for it and all future non-food offerings) or would it be okay since the intention isn't just to make the shrine pretty, it's a gift?
5) I work wih my hands, so it's nearly impossible for me to go about without minor cuts and breakage. Would this be considered an impurity? The KO suggests not to pray while injured or bleeding. I can buy gloves to keep at my altar if needed.
6) Do you think the Netjer will be offended by cat fur getting on my shrine/the cats themselves? It's physically impossible to keep them out of my room due to my living space rn. I'll be able to keep them off while using the shrine, but I can't hover over and watch them every second of the day, and specifically one ALWAYS has to investigate anything she sees I'm giving my attention to lol.
7) Finally, is it acceptable to add a photograph to my altar of a deceased loved one? I like to keep his picture in spots that attract the most love/positive energy. It wouldn't be a main display kind of thing, maybe just behind everything in one of the far top corners. I'm open to any and all suggestions except taking the picture out of the frame as it's the only printed one I have atm, so I'd like to keep it protected. I'd also like to incorporate him into ancestral prayer but we aren't actually related, just close friends and dated briefly. Is that okay or should I keep him separated from that?
Sorry for the rambling post! I really appreciate all feed back♡ Also sorry for any missed typos. I've gone over the post, and I think I got everything yet could've missed some.