I (23 F) have been diagnosed with Bipolar, ADHD, and social anxiety for a few years now, starting Sophomore year of college. I never really agreed with the Bipolar diagnosis. I didn't feel like what I had was mania, though I did relate to a cyclical type of depression and periods of higher mood and motivation, not as much with the super fast talking or no sleep. I do get really bad irritability (just in general, but it gets unmanageable when I'm depressed). I'm also very prone to isolation, impulsivity, and rumination, and have avoidant tendencies. Since the start of the year, I've had 3 social outings that lasted a few hours each. I work remotely,and rarely leave my house.
​
For context, I was always very motivated in school and went to a really good university for an engineering degree. I recently graduated and I'm now a Software Engineer. As soon as I started college, the ADHD symptoms and other mental health struggles started taking a toll on my grades, which was really debilitating. At 19, I got on Adderall for ADHD, and was smoking weed heavily, and for a period I was abusing my adderall, which I now greatly regret. At the height of this, I had a bad case of persecutory delusions that were scary as hell. Typical "CIA is after me". I got off adderall for about a year, and it was so hard to feel motivated to do anything, and studying was very difficult. I was still having suspicious thinking, but I was smoking weed a lot less and not taking any stimulants, and it didn't reach a full-blown delusional state.
​
I finally started with a new psychiatrist, and today we had our second visit. I explained that I'm scared to go on an antipsychotic because they can cause cognitive issues and in my career, I can't afford that. He concluded that what I have sounds more like a thought disorder, along with a mood disorder -- He said it possibly could be schizoaffective disorder. He said since Adderall helps a lot, we could switch to Ritalin which has a lower chance of psychosis, and add on Vraylar. He said Vraylar is good for my concern with a lack of motivation, and fear of cognitive decline with other antipsychotics.
​
I'm scared because this thought disorder thing feels spot on. My whole life, my intellect is the only thing I feel has gotten me through life. And now I have this thing that is basically characterized by "illogical thinking". And it's true. In those heightened delusional states, I can feel my mind connecting dots that have no business being connected. And it's getting worse. And Adderall, the thing that feels helpful, may have exacerbated this. I'm only 23, I'm only just starting my Software Engineering career, and the thoughts that "I'm getting dumber" since I was 19 are proving to be true. I'm honestly terrified. I feel unable to function without Adderall, but I'm also scared that I'll just become more psychotic if I keep taking it. What do I do... I've been considering going back and getting my master's in Computer Science because I want to work in AI, but I would feel incapable doing it without Adderall. And now I feel like either way, this "thought disorder" thing will worsen and I won't be able to do any job that requires logical thinking because my brain is just broken. I broke my brain. And I'm only 23. I've always been an intellectually curious person, I feel so hopeless right now like what is the point of living this way?

I (23 F) have been diagnosed with Bipolar, ADHD, and social anxiety for a few years now, starting Sophomore year of college. I never really agreed with the Bipolar diagnosis. I didn't feel like what I had was mania, though I did relate to a cyclical type of depression and periods of higher mood and motivation, not as much with the super fast talking or no sleep. I do get really bad irritability (just in general, but it gets unmanageable when I'm depressed). I'm also very prone to isolation, impulsivity, and rumination, and have avoidant tendencies. Since the start of the year, I've had 3 social outings that lasted a few hours each. I work remotely,and rarely leave my house.
For context, I was always very motivated in school and went to a really good university for an engineering degree. I recently graduated and I'm now a Software Engineer. As soon as I started college, the ADHD symptoms and other mental health struggles started taking a toll on my grades, which was really debilitating. At 19, I got on Adderall for ADHD, and was smoking weed heavily, and for a period I was abusing my adderall, which I now greatly regret. At the height of this, I had a bad case of persecutory delusions that were scary as hell. Typical "CIA is after me". I got off adderall for about a year, and it was so hard to feel motivated to do anything, and studying was very difficult. I was still having suspicious thinking, but I was smoking weed a lot less and not taking any stimulants, and it didn't reach a full-blown delusional state.
I finally started with a new psychiatrist, and today we had our second visit. I explained that I'm scared to go on an antipsychotic because they can cause cognitive issues and in my career, I can't afford that. He concluded that what I have sounds more like a thought disorder, along with a mood disorder -- He said it possibly could be schizoaffective disorder. He said since Adderall helps a lot, we could switch to Ritalin which has a lower chance of psychosis, and add on Vraylar. He said Vraylar is good for my concern with a lack of motivation, and fear of cognitive decline with other antipsychotics.
I'm scared because this thought disorder thing feels spot on. My whole life, my intellect is the only thing I feel has gotten me through life. And now I have this thing that is basically characterized by "illogical thinking". And it's true. In those heightened delusional states, I can feel my mind connecting dots that have no business being connected. And it's getting worse. And Adderall, the thing that feels helpful, may have exacerbated this. I'm only 23, I'm only just starting my Software Engineering career, and the thoughts that "I'm getting dumber" since I was 19 are proving to be true. I'm honestly terrified. I feel unable to function without Adderall, but I'm also scared that I'll just become more psychotic if I keep taking it. What do I do... I've been considering going back and getting my master's in Computer Science because I want to work in AI, but I would feel incapable doing it without Adderall. And now I feel like either way, this "thought disorder" thing will worsen and I won't be able to do any job that requires logical thinking because my brain is just broken. I broke my brain. And I'm only 23. I've always been an intellectually curious person, I feel so hopeless right now like what is the point of living this way?

I (23 F) have been diagnosed with Bipolar, ADHD, and social anxiety for a few years now, starting Sophomore year of college. I never really agreed with the Bipolar diagnosis. I didn't feel like what I had was mania, though I did relate to a cyclical type of depression and periods of higher mood and motivation, not as much with the super fast talking or no sleep. I do get really bad irritability (just in general, but it gets unmanageable when I'm depressed). I'm also very prone to isolation, impulsivity, and rumination, and have avoidant tendencies. Since the start of the year, I've had 3 social outings that lasted a few hours each. I work remotely,and rarely leave my house.
For context, I was always very motivated in school and went to a really good university for an engineering degree. I recently graduated and I'm now a Software Engineer. As soon as I started college, the ADHD symptoms and other mental health struggles started taking a toll on my grades, which was really debilitating. At 19, I got on Adderall for ADHD, and was smoking weed heavily, and for a period I was abusing my adderall, which I now greatly regret. At the height of this, I had a bad case of persecutory delusions that were scary as hell. Typical "CIA is after me". I got off adderall for about a year, and it was so hard to feel motivated to do anything, and studying was very difficult. I was still having suspicious thinking, but I was smoking weed a lot less and not taking any stimulants, and it didn't reach a full-blown delusional state.
I finally started with a new psychiatrist, and today we had our second visit. I explained that I'm scared to go on an antipsychotic because they can cause cognitive issues and in my career, I can't afford that. He concluded that what I have sounds more like a thought disorder, along with a mood disorder -- He said it possibly could be schizoaffective disorder. He said since Adderall helps a lot, we could switch to Ritalin which has a lower chance of psychosis, and add on Vraylar. He said Vraylar is good for my concern with a lack of motivation, and fear of cognitive decline with other antipsychotics.
I'm scared because this thought disorder thing feels spot on. My whole life, my intellect is the only thing I feel has gotten me through life. And now I have this thing that is basically characterized by "illogical thinking". And it's true. In those heightened delusional states, I can feel my mind connecting dots that have no business being connected. And it's getting worse. And Adderall, the thing that feels helpful, may have exacerbated this. I'm only 23, I'm only just starting my Software Engineering career, and the thoughts that "I'm getting dumber" since I was 19 are proving to be true. I'm honestly terrified. I feel unable to function without Adderall, but I'm also scared that I'll just become more psychotic if I keep taking it. What do I do... I've been considering going back and getting my master's in Computer Science because I want to work in AI, but I would feel incapable doing it without Adderall. And now I feel like either way, this "thought disorder" thing will worsen and I won't be able to do any job that requires logical thinking because my brain is just broken. I broke my brain. And I'm only 23. I've always been an intellectually curious person, I feel so hopeless right now like what is the point of living this way?

I (23 F) have been diagnosed with Bipolar, ADHD, and social anxiety for a few years now, starting Sophomore year of college. I never really agreed with the Bipolar diagnosis. I didn't feel like what I had was mania, though I did relate to a cyclical type of depression and periods of higher mood and motivation, not as much with the super fast talking or no sleep. I do get really bad irritability (just in general, but it gets really unmanageable when I'm depressed). I'm also very prone to isolation, impulsivity, rumination, and have avoidant tendencies in relationships/in general. Since the start of the year, I've had about 3 social outings that lasted a few hours each. I only go into the office 4 times a month, and I order my groceries, so I really never leave my house.
For context, I was always very motivating in school and went to a really good university for an engineering degree. I recently graduated and I'm now a Software Engineer. As soon as I started college, the ADHD symptoms and other mental health struggles started taking a toll on my grades, which was really debilitating. At 19, I got on Adderall for ADHD, and was smoking weed heavily, and for a period I was definitely abusing my adderall, which I now greatly regret. During the height of this, I had a really bad case of persecutory delusions that were scary as hell. Typical "CIA is after me" stuff. I got off adderall for about a year, and it was so hard to feel motivated to do anything, and studying was very difficult. I was still having some paranoid/suspicious thinking, but I was smoking weed a lot less and not taking any stimulants, and it didn't reach a full-blown delusional state. For example, if I couldn't find an article of clothing or item in my room, I would quickly jump to "someone must have stolen it", until I would find it. I would also think a lot about the persecutory delusions from before, and wonder about them, but wouldn't really go back to believing them. I graduated last May, and a few months later, I got back on Adderall. It helped my executive dysfunction so much. For example, cleaning is a severe problem for me. I cannot clean, and my apartment frequently gets ant or fly infestations if I don't pay someone to clean for me. The adderall helps with stuff like this, especially if I'm not depressed. When I am severely depressed, it helps with concentration but I don't care enough to do the things I should be focusing on, if that makes sense -- basically the motivation is not there but the concentration is.
I finally started with a new psychiatrist, and today we had our second visit. I explained that I'm scared to go on an antipsychotic because they can cause cognitive issues and in my career, I cant afford that. He concluded that what I have sounds more like a thought disorder than mania, along with a mood disorder -- He said it possibly could be schizoaffective disorder. He said since the Adderall helps a lot, we could switch to Ritalin which has a lower chance of psychosis, and add on Vraylar. He said Vraylar is good for my concern with a lack of motivation, and fear of cognitive decline with other antipsychotics.
I'm scared of this whole thought disorder thing. I looked it up, and it's pretty spot on with my delusional thinking. My whole life, my "intelligence" is the only thing I feel like I've been good at, and the thing that's basically gotten me through life. And now I have this thing that is basically characterized by "illogical thinking". And it's true. In those heightened delusional states, I can feel my mind connecting dots that have no business being connected. And it's getting worse. And adderall, the thing that feels helpful, may have exacerbated this. At least from my understanding, its affects on dopamine are similar to the root cause of Schizophrenia and disorganized thinking, etc. And it is supposed to get worse over time. I'm only 23, I'm only just starting my Software Engineering career, and the thoughts that "I'm getting dumber" since I was 19 are proving to be true. Schizophrenics see a significant drop in IQ over time. I'm honestly terrified. I feel unable to function without Adderall, but I'm also scared that I'll just become more psychotic if I keep taking it. To make matters worse, after 2 sessions with this psychiatrist who was going to prescribe the Vraylar, he tells me he, in fact, does not take my insurance (he'd told me this whole time he did, but he was "mistaken"). It took me so long to find a psychiatrist and now I might have to pay hundreds of dollars worth of two sessions out of pocket. I'm so scared, what do I do... I've been considering going back and getting my masters in Computer Science because I want to work in AI, and you usually need higher education for that. But I would feel incapable doing it without Adderall, and now I feel like either way, this "thought disorder" thing will worsen and I won't be able to do any job that requires logical thinking because my brain just broken. I feel like I broke my brain. And I'm only 23. I've always been an intellectually curious person, I feel so hopeless right now like what is the point of living this way.

As you can see from the reaction to this post, it is bad practice to allow a user to view their full SSN on a website, especially if 2FA is not present.
I can log in to Equifax.com, go to file a dispute, and then view my full SSN. I can do this using only my email address and password. Maybe the other credit bureaus do as well, now I'm intrigued.
UPDATE:

• Experian: I clicked through the dispute interface on experian.com, and if I want to dispute my SSN, a) it does not show the full SSN, b) it advises that I cannot dispute this item online. I think this would be a better way for Equifax to handle it, although maybe this would put an undue burden on some group I'm not thinking of.
• TransUnion: They are similar; you need to go through a slower process to dispute SSN as described here, and you can't see your SSN on the website.

I suggest that Equifax change this setup in one or more of the following ways:

1. Add app-based 2FA as a login option.
2. Do not allow the user to view their full SSN. Instead, allow them to type in their SSN and compare it to Equifax's records, returning a "yes/no." Limit the number of SSNs that can be entered for comparison within a given time period. Or allow the user to optionally add this requirement (and make it hard to switch back off).
3. Require the user to do some extra security checks in order to view SSN. Or allow the user to optionally add this requirement (and make it hard to switch back off).

I like #2. For the purpose of starting a dispute, it seem to me that it would be sufficient to know the number of distinct SSNs that don't match the SSN provided by the user, and the same thing for ITINs or other buckets of numbers. If I understand correctly, you can only have one SSN or ITIN at a time, so a security setup like this would at least make sense for current SSN even if there were reasons to make it easier to view Equifax's picture of your historical SSNs/ITINs.
Maybe I'm missing a special case, but it seems like that would be enough to get started and then Equifax could provide the full non-matching SSNs if necessary as part of the dispute process. Maybe I'm missing a case where it would be critical to know the full non-matching SSNs before disputing. Thoughts?
Equifax is not unique in doing this; ChexSystems does it as well. However, Equifax is much less bad than ChexSystems for the following reasons:

• Equifax requires SSN to reset password; ChexSystems allows it with only SMS or email.
• Equifax allows you to delete your web account and fix the security hole; ChexSystems required me to randomly spam a bunch of people by email who don't actually have the responsibility for deleting accounts.
• ChexSystems shows SSN on the first screen when you log in, along with your driver's license number. With Equifax, it's somewhat hidden in the dispute section and I can see why they would want people to be able to check SSN to decide whether to dispute it.

I (23 F) have been diagnosed with Bipolar, ADHD, and social anxiety for a few years now, starting Sophomore year of college. I never really agreed with the Bipolar diagnosis. I didn't feel like what I had was mania, though I did relate to a cyclical type of depression and periods of higher mood and motivation, not as much with the super fast talking or no sleep. I do get really bad irritability (just in general, but it gets really unmanageable when I'm depressed). I'm also very prone to isolation, impulsivity, rumination, and have avoidant tendencies in relationships/in general. Since the start of the year, I've had about 3 social outings that lasted a few hours each. I only go into the office 4 times a month, and I order my groceries, so I really never leave my house.
For context, I was always very motivating in school and went to a really good university for an engineering degree. I recently graduated and I'm now a Software Engineer. As soon as I started college, the ADHD symptoms and other mental health struggles started taking a toll on my grades, which was really debilitating. At 19, I got on Adderall for ADHD, and was smoking weed heavily, and for a period I was definitely abusing my adderall, which I now greatly regret. During the height of this, I had a really bad case of persecutory delusions that were scary as hell. Typical "CIA is after me" stuff. I got off adderall for about a year, and I really struggled. It was so hard to feel motivated to do anything, and studying was very difficult. Even when the depression was fine, concentrating was not. I was still having some paranoid/suspicious thinking, but I was smoking weed a lot less and not taking any stimulants, and it didn't reach full-blown delusional state. However, it was definitely still there. For example, if I couldn't find an article of clothing or item in my room, I would quickly jump to "someone must have stolen it", until I would find it. I would also think a lot about the persecutory delusions from before, and wonder about them, but wouldn't really go back to believing them. I graduated last May, and a few months later, I got back on Adderall. It helped my executive dysfunction so much. For example, cleaning is a severe problem for me. I cannot clean, and my apartment frequently gets ant or fly infestations if I don't pay someone to clean for me. The adderall helps with stuff like this, especially if I'm not depressed. When I am severely depressed, it helps with concentration but I don't care enough to do the things I should be focusing on, if that makes sense -- basically the motivation is not there but the concentration is.
I finally started with a new psychiatrist, and today we had our second visit. I explained my whole history, and my main concern being that I'm currently extremely depressed, and I have little bits of these paranoid thoughts, which I know get worse with adderall, but I don't want to stop adderall since it can be so helpful for me. I also told him that I'm scared to go on an antipsychotic because they can cause cognitive issues and in my career, I cant afford that. He concluded that what I have sounds more like a thought disorder than mania, along with a mood disorder -- He said it possibly could be schizoaffective disorder. He said since the Adderall helps a lot, we could switch to Ritalin which has a lower chance of psychosis, and add on Vraylar. He said Vraylar is good for my concern with a lack of motivation, and fear of cognitive decline with other antipsychotics.
I'm scared of this whole thought disorder thing. I looked it up, and it's pretty spot on with my delusional thinking. My whole life, my "intelligence" is the only thing I feel like I've been good at, and the thing that's basically gotten me through life. And now I have this thing that is basically characterized by "illogical thinking". And it's true. In those heightened delusional states, I can feel my mind connecting dots that have no business being connected. And it's getting worse. And adderall, the thing that feels helpful, may have exacerbated this. At least from my understanding, its affects on dopamine are similar to the root cause of Schizophrenia and disorganized thinking, etc. And it is supposed to get worse over time. I'm only 23, I'm only just starting my Software Engineering career, and the thoughts that "I'm getting dumber" since I was 19 are proving to be true. Schizophrenics see a significant drop in IQ over time. I'm honestly terrified. I feel unable to function without Adderall, but I'm also scared that I'll just become more psychotic if I keep taking it. To make matters worse, after 2 sessions with this psychiatrist who was going to prescribe the Vraylar, he tells me he, in fact, does not take my insurance (he'd told me this whole time he did, but he was "mistaken"). It took me so long to find a psychiatrist and now I might have to pay hundreds of dollars worth of two sessions out of pocket. I'm so scared, what do I do... I've been considering going back and getting my masters in Computer Science because I want to work in AI, and you usually need higher education for that. But I would feel incapable doing it without Adderall, and now I feel like either way, this "thought disorder" thing will worsen and I won't be able to do any job that requires logical thinking because my brain just broken. I feel like I broke my brain. And I'm only 23. I've always been an intellectually curious person, I feel so hopeless right now like what is the point of living this way.

I'm sure there's nothing I can do at this point...but to make a short story long, here we go... Last July and for 18 years leading up to that, I had been an avid iTunes user, starting with gen 1 iPod. At some point mid-july 2023, I got logged out of my account. No big deal, I thought, because this happened periodically and I figured it was some glitch Apple had. I tried to log back in and it didn't let me. I tried to reset the password, wouldn't let me. I kept getting the message saying my apple ID was inactive. I waited a few weeks because I thought maybe I locked myself out or something, and then I called support. They put a request to reactive my account. I received an email later the next day saying I was ineligible for reactivation.
I called support and spoke with a lady who couldn't give me any information as to why I wasn't eligible, she just said I must have broken the TOS and to go read them and figure it out. So I read through that, (first time ever reading a whole TOS btw) and there was nothing I couldn't tell that I had done. I've never even shared my password.
Anyways, I'm super bummed, I tried again unsuccessfully in Oct, and another time today (5/16/24) to no avail. She told me I can't just be asking for reactivation over and over. And said I'm welcome to make a new ID. I asked her if apple thinks I committed fraud and closed down my account, why are they ok with me making a new account? Sounds sketch like they're just trying to boast new subscriber numbers to shareholders. She couldn't answer, and said she didn't know but it made sense that they shouldn't be ok with it if they really did think I was a fraud.
I guess my question is, is there anything else I can do to get my account back? I had that account so long and had so much purchased music on it, it's like theft because I can't get the music off my account. I'm lucky I store my pictures elsewhere or I'd be out those pictures too. I'm sure I'm SOL, but if there are any suggestions, please share.
Thanks

Usually, when I start my stream (I usually stream to twitch and YouTube), my chat works completely normally. I use the Multistream chatbox and I see messages from Twitch and from Youtube, as expected. No worries there. Cool and good.
However, after a period of time (sometimes 2 minutes, sometimes multiple hours), my chatbox will just stop showing new messages. I think? it has stopped showing Twitch messages at some point, but YouTube messages are always the first ones to go. I'll notice that my chat has gone completely silent, and so I'll pull up my stream on a browser and there are still plenty of new chat messages, my chatbox just doesn't show them. So, instead of using the built in chatbox in streamlabs, I am left to use popout chats from my browser, which can be somewhat of a headache.
Things worth noting:

• When the chat fails to show messages, it seems to happen at completely random times. It's not like I change a bunch of stream settings mid-stream and then things stop working. Instead, messages stop updating at completely random times.
  
  • Last night, something new happened. After the messages stopped updating and I was using the browser popout chats for a while, the messages randomly began updating on streamlabs again. Again, this seemed to be completely random.
• My initial thought is that this was an internet issue (occasional disconnects was a problem with my old internet) but this issue has persisted on two completely separate networks.
  
• I don't think this was ever an issue until I started Multistreaming, but that is what I am doing from now on, so I do want a solution that works while multistreaming.
  

Fixes I have already tried:

• Restart streamlabs and restart computer
  
• Delete and reinstall streamlabs
  
• Remove my platform connections with streamlabs and then reconnect them
  
• Turn off and on hardware acceleration for streamlabs
  
• Log out and in to streamlabs
  

So, now I am still here every stream, just waiting for the moment that my chat messages stop showing up. Any and all help is appreciated. Thank you!

So basically I was working on a project with my friend as my partner. Her name was Jane (fake name). We were working on a math project and she is pretty smart but not that good of a partner.
The project was initially due last friday but her and I were goofing off but later that period I actually starting doing the project. We had to turn in 2 things, a presentation and a poster so I did the poster and she was supposed to do the presentation. She sat there watching youtube on her computer for basically all of math class and at that point I was done with the project.
I jokingly reminded her that this was due the next day and it was critical that we did the project because it was worth half of our grade. She said she would do it but kept watching youtube and I was getting irritated. She barely did any work and I wasn’t going to help her because I did my part.
After that on Friday, I warned her again and she said she would do it but watched youtube for like half of the period and we did not have a lot of time. I was getting more irritated and I kept reminding her but she kept saying she would do it but kept watching youtube. I did not remind her after that.
She finally turned it in on Tuesday even though it was overdue. I reminded her on Monday because I was getting irritated but she did not finish it until Tuesday. Even though she turned it in she did not even do the work right and we got a 50% and that made my grade go to a C when it was an A. I was mad and I reminded her one last time because my teacher put a game up for us to play and she was joining and I reminded her “You should fix the project”, and then she snapped at me and said “Can you stop reminding me i’m going to do it!” and I got offended and stopped talking. AITAH?

first let me start by saying I'm not tech savvy but I need opinions and suggestions on what to do! I apologize in advance but I'm under an extreme amount of stress and don't want to leave any detail out.
I have been using my MacBook pro m1 for a couple of years without issue. my MacBook started acting up about a month ago. I could not purchase apps in the store so I called apple support. We spent 3 hours on the phone working with it. first they had me update, which i was hesitant (eventually agreed) but that didn't solve the issue. then they concluded family share was the problem. after fixing the family share everything worked and I thought my problem was solved; unfortunately that was the last time it operated properly.
over the next several weeks my Mac seemed slow and I had problems with things, I figured it was user error since I had updated to macos 14.1.1. then "mo" from a large trusted legal firm emailed me a pdf, I downloaded it and attempted to open but pdf expert wouldn't open it and said it was "corrupt". one of "mo's" colleague "jo" emailed me a link to download Corp documents. the link directed me to the firm's website where I had to put my email address and name in order to login. after I logged in I clicked select all and downloaded them. they download in a .zip format but my Mac couldn't/ wouldn't unzip of open them so I downloaded them individually. after this I emailed "mo" to inform her the pdf was corrupt but she didn't seem concerned so I didn't worry.
2 days ago "jo" and I had discussed scheduling a call at 4, I confirmed I would be available and waited for her to call but it never came. the next morning i sent an email asking if she forgot about me but she denied that I had confirmed my appointment. I knew I had confirmed but figured I responded to the wrong person. I set with my Mac in front of me and my email open awaiting her reply but 2 hours later i hadn't received email from anyone so I refreshed my the mail app. when I done this i saw the only email I had received was from "mo" so I open and read it. after reading it I closed it and once I did "Jo" email arrived suggesting a call at 12 but it was 12:51 when i received it. this was my first indication something was majorly wrong.. I called apple support for help
Well here is the start to my nightmare. first apple's automated system couldn't verify my account but when I got to a representative he went ahead a began a screenshare and started working on my issues. we started checking the settings and my settings were changed. I never backup to a cloud (I know it's risk but I'm too scared of identity theft) but my mac was backing somethings up anyways. then he instructed that I sync my mail (I hadn't received over 3k emails) and change my password. I changed my password an was able to start making purchases again. next I noticed my notes were missing bit he couldn't resolve this problem and transfered me to a senior advisor. the senior advisor wanted to start screenshare. as he attempted to screenshare he reminded me that the sharing would be paused on sensitive information. next he informed me that we couldn't share screens that there were issues in his system. as we walked through the process of removing my notes alarm bells began to go off in my head. the previous rep had me change passwords but didn't pause screen share, which I informed my advisor but he didn't seem concerned. then i was put on a brief hold. as I was on hold I took that opportunity to change my password again. when he came back on the line I asked if he would attempt a screenshare again and it worked. he helped me check out various settings and we found they had been changed, at this point I began to worry I had a virus. he suggested I download a virus software outside of the app store. this made me uncomfortable so i requested to schedule/scheduled with the genius bar for this evening. I closed my Mac and went on about my evening.
this morning I found out about the newest apple security breach,, which kicked my anxiety into over drive. from what I read my computer had similar issues and the list was growing so I contacted support again. today once again I couldn't be verified and I wasn't receiving notifications from Apple again. the automated system automatically transferred me to a senior advisor. I thought this was weird but they assured me this was normal! anyhow I explained what was going on and she wanted to go over my settings again. we began to screen share and checked my settings, again they were different. then she said I need to see if you are completely logged in and had me open the privacy and security tab. next she instructed me to click on 2 factor authentication; followed by get a verification code. I didn't know any better so I clicked it. the next box showed a code then told me not to share the code with anyone including Apple. we were screensharing she saw it! I was so upset and asked her why she had me click that why we were screensharing...she claimed she didn't see anything it was lagging but I don't believe that! she the stated the code would change each time anyhow! at this point I'm in panic mode so disconnected the call, screenshare and tried to change my password. this time when I went to change my password I put the old and new password in and proceeded to the next step but the pop up looked entirely different. the only thing I knew to do was take my computer completely off line until I can get so help.

You know what the best part is about playing Engineer in Team Fortress 2? You get to watch how angry everyone gets when they get shot by your sentry guns. Me and my best friend Jose both main Engineer, and can confirm that the best way to spend your Friday nights after school is to set up a sentry and get ready for the rage. There’s been matches where we haven’t even used our actual guns even once, but racked up lots of kills just because of the sentries.
One day Jose called me up with an idea that was either going to be the stupidest thing ever or the smartest thing ever. He wanted to fill an entire team with only Engineers and watch the chaos unfold. I couldn’t stop laughing at the mental image in my head and agreed with the plan. I joined a Discord server with everyone else on the team.
I convinced my cousin Matthew to join, and he in turn brought along his little brother Zack. According to Matthew, it took quite a bit of convincing because Zack was a Scout main who couldn’t stand Engineers. He eventually got through to his little brother by promising him a Steam gift card. I even got their dad Graham to play along (yes, I have an uncle who plays TF2. How cool is that?). Jose enlisted his friends, who turned into friends of friends and soon enough we had a team of 16 Engineers.
To say that we caused chaos that night was an absolute understatement. As soon as we joined the game the text chat was flooded with messages from the other team wondering what the hell was going on. And they only got worse from that point on. We surrounded our control points with a ring of sentries that people just kept running into. I saw keyboard smashes and heard other teen boys’ voices crack in rage and many, many words that I personally don’t care to repeat here.
The most skilled Engineer was this guy named Craig, who was a friend of one of Jose’s friends. Not only was he the main person capturing the enemy control points with some very strategically placed teleporters, but he was also really friendly and encouraging to all of us. I didn’t know what he looked like, but from his voice it sounded like he was in his early 20s.
Me and Craig started to chat more and more on Discord. He was a super nice guy who was also really fun to talk with. He took time out of his day to teach me how to be an even better Engineer player. Whenever someone started dissing me in the voice chat, he firmly told them to leave me alone. After seeing my fair share of toxicity in the TF2 community, it was nice to know that this complete stranger was looking out for me.
This whole Team Engineer thing became a weekly tradition for us on Friday nights. It was something everyone could look forward to after work or school. One time after everyone logged off and said their goodbyes, Craig sent a message a few hours later in our Discord:
“You guys gotta check this out. I found the weirdest server ever. It’s literally Engineer heaven. Meet me at vl_sentry.”
I was still in the mood to play and I could stay up late tonight, so I hopped back on TF2. I saw that Jose, Graham and this other girl we played with named Lynn were also online. I found vl_sentry and connected to the server. The map was called Valley of the Sentries and it was created by Valve.
It took my computer a little bit to process the map, and it took me even longer than that to process what I was seeing.
The map looked like a chessboard with 3D-sculpted hills. The sky was just pure white. Not even white walls, just the color white. Every square had a blue sentry on it and there were about 4 or 5 other Engineers jumping around, spamming their voice lines. That’s when I realized that we were the only ones there, and there was no red team.
“Hey Sean, glad you could make it :)” Craig said in the text chat. “What the hell is this?” I asked. He told me that this was a server that one of his friends showed him. The friend said he was introduced to the map by a friend of his who knew someone who worked at Valve. Craig then went on to explain that apparently Valley of the Sentries was an experiment to test the limits of the sentry guns and their effect on the servers. Rumor has it that the map is infinite.
“Check this out.” said Jose. He switched to Heavy and immediately got shot down. All of the sentries turned towards him. There were so many of them that it made the game lag a ton. He respawned as Engineer and the sentries just kept on spinning.
“WTF?” I typed. “We tried it with all the other classes and it does the same thing.” said Craig. “It ignores Engineers, but shoots everyone else.” Lynn added. “And that’s why we’re the best class. Engineer power!” Graham joked.
I asked what would happen if you were to play as Spy and sap one of the sentries. “I tried, but you gotta have a godly reaction time to activate it.” said Jose. As soon as he said “godly reaction time”, I knew I had to try it out just for the bragging rights.
Respawn. Shot down. Respawn. Shot down. Respawn. Shot down.
Yeah, I did not have a godly reaction time. The others kept spamming “lol” in the chat each time I failed. I got annoyed pretty quickly and stopped trying. Then out of nowhere, all the sentries turned away from me and started firing at someone. I turned around and all five of us were still standing there. I looked at the top bar that shows how many characters were in the game. There were only five Engineers and they were all on the same team. So what the hell were the sentries targeting?
I started to walk in the direction that the sentries were facing and Jose followed me too. We moved really slow, not only because of the sentries on every square but also the uphill climbs. It was just us two in the chat for a while, talking about seeing each other back at school on Monday while we made our slow walk across the map. Then our conversation was interrupted by a chat message from Lynn.
“Why is there a man in the sky?”
Me and Jose tried to get to Lynn to see what she was talking about as fast as possible, but we moved like snails. To get back to the spawn point, we both switched classes, instantly died and respawned as Engineers. I don’t think we respawned in the same place we started from. I don’t even know where we respawned. There were no landmarks or notable things to help you find your way. Just hills, valleys, and sentries.
I asked Lynn where she was and she just told me she was with Graham and Craig. Only that wasn’t very helpful because we didn’t know where they were either. We stood there, stumped for a minute and a half until Jose got an idea. He said that she should just switch classes and respawn, because then all of the sentries would point toward her and we could follow them all the way back to her. She made the switch, got shot down, and we instantly knew where to find her.
We finally got close enough to kind of make out the vague shape of a few Engineers over the non-existent horizon. Me and Jose were relieved, until all the sentries pointed to our right. I swiveled around and saw them open fire on…nothing. I checked with Jose to see if he caught something I didn’t, but he also didn’t see what they were shooting at. I decided that it wasn’t that important and continued to walk towards the rest of the group.
We met up with Lynn, Craig and Graham, disappointed that we made that trek all for nothing. Even though we were all together now, it just felt so lonely. The only sound coming from my computer was the constant beeping of the sentries in perfect sync. I don’t know why, but it made me so uneasy. I attempted to break the silence by going to the voice lines and playing the iconic Engineer “Nope” soundbite. It echoed across the checkered land with no response.
It was about 12:30 AM at this point and I was starting to feel more and more unsettled with each passing minute. There was just something about this black and white world that I felt creeped out by. Before Craig invited us to come over, there was no one else on the server. Who would even want to play on this map, anyways? It’s so unfairly balanced that only one class can survive. Movement speed was super slow, and you can’t even really do anything except watch the sentries turn and turn and turn forever. It was like hypnosis, except I didn’t feel sleepy or relaxed at all.
Speaking of being sleepy, Jose said he was getting tired and was going to be logging off. We all said goodbye to him and continued chatting amongst ourselves. It sounds stupid, but my stomach dropped when I saw the fifth Engineer portrait disappear. One less person to talk to. One less person to keep myself from wondering what else was out here. I could have sworn that after he left, the beeping got louder.
“So is this map actually infinite?” asked Graham. “Only one way to find out.” Craig said. “Just keep on walking and see if it goes on forever.” “Why don’t you just fire a shotgun and see how far it goes?” Lynn suggested.
I took out the shotgun and fired. The bullet flew off into the white distance and disappeared.
Then I heard the distinct sound of someone getting shot.
A message appeared in the chat, from someone named sentry_check_pattern.
“sentry_check_pattern: stop that”
Once again I looked at the top bar. It just showed four blue Engineers. That meant we were the only ones on the server. Or so we thought.
The chat was flooded with our confusion, almost as if everyone realized at the same time that something wasn’t right. None of us moved an inch.
“What even is this place?” I asked, hoping that the mysterious user would provide me with an answer. “Must be Engineer heaven.” said Graham.
“sentry_check_pattern: more like my personal hell”
This was the moment that made me trust my intuition. I knew there was a reason why I found this map so creepy. I wanted to leave the server, but there was just one thing keeping me back- my own curiosity. My wish to unveil the mysteries of the Valley of the Sentries.
“Okay this is really freaking me out. See ya guys.” said Lynn before she left the server. The fourth Engineer’s portrait disappeared from the top bar.
No no no, please. Please don’t go. Don’t leave us. I wouldn’t want to be alone here. Now there’s just three of us, and I really hope that number doesn’t go down anymore. When the others were here, this was just a weird TF2 map that we were exploring together as friends. And now it feels like we’re trapped in this infinite world, but we aren’t alone. The only problem is we don’t know what else is here.
I shuddered, imagining Craig and Graham ditching me and leaving me all alone in the Valley of the Sentries. Just me and whoever- no, whatever was talking to us.
“sentry_check_pattern: you don’t know how good you have it
you can leave at any time
i can’t”
This terrified me. What a horrible thought, never being able to leave this place. But of course, no one could really be trapped here. It’s a Team Fortress 2 server. You can just exit the game and shut your computer. No one could be trapped in a video game.
But if you think about it, aren’t the characters themselves trapped? They can’t leave the game. They’re characters. They don’t even know they’re in a game. You or the computer controls all their actions. They don’t have free will. And if you’re bad at the game, they’ll just keep dying over and over again.
Wait, why was I thinking about this?
I carefully considered what I wanted to say next in the chat. Whatever I said could either answer all my burning questions or leave me asking more. But sentry_check_pattern talked first.
“sentry_check_pattern: i was made for one purpose
to die over and over again”
Oh my god. It was like this person read my mind and knew exactly what I was thinking about. Who or what was I talking to? I turned all the way around to make sure that no one else was there. It was just the two blue Engineers standing behind me. Just Graham and Craig. And that man with the checkered skin.
Startled, I asked my friends if they saw what I saw. It took them a second, but both of them confirmed that yes, there was indeed something else there. A basic male model with the same chessboard texture as the map. Graham immediately started to shoot at him. Nothing. It just went straight through him.
“sentry_check_pattern: you can’t kill what’s already been killed millions of times over
valve made that mistake too
every company has that one failed project they don’t talk about
and that’s me”
Whoever was behind this weird account was talking crazy. The Team Fortress 2 developers were very open about everything like fixing their glitches and bugs. They always posted things on the official blog about the development process. They’re so open about their failures and always promise to fix them.
“Stop with the weird stuff. We just wanted to know what the deal is with this server and the weird chess guy. Do you know anything about it?” Graham asked in the text chat.
“sentry_check_pattern: know anything?
you’re not very bright, graham
none of you are
do you not realize where you are and what you’re talking to”
Something about the way sentry_check_pattern used Graham’s name gave me goosebumps. I didn’t know what I was talking to. I didn’t even think I wanted to know at this point.
“sentry_check_pattern: this is one of valve’s test servers
i’m the texture they use to check if the sentries work
read between the lines”
“Quiet, NPC.” Craig said. I laughed a little bit to fight off the awkward tension. Then I reminded myself that I was talking to a video game character, no- not even a character. A blank character model. A texture.
“sentry_check_pattern: just because i’m a character model doesn’t mean i can’t feel pain
open fire”
The sentries all swiveled around to face the man and shot at him. He kept falling to the ground, turning white and standing back up in the same position.
“sentry_check_pattern: cease fire”
All of the sentries stopped shooting and just went back to spinning around, their beeps echoing in the air.
“sentry_check_pattern: ready to see what i’ve been through for over a decade?
open fire”
Before any of us could react, the sentries opened fire on Craig all at once. He kept dying, but he didn’t explode the way you’re supposed to when you die in TF2. He just dropped to the floor, turned white, and respawned over and over again. There was no death scream. I tried to type something else in the chat but the game lagged so much that my typing just ended up as a string of random letters that meant nothing. Craig tried to type something out too. It just ended up as “wwwwwwwwwwthisishowitfeelswwwwwwwww” Then the game crashed and my computer shut down.
I hyperventilated. Then I laughed at myself for hyperventilating over a stupid computer game. It was Team Fortress 2 for god’s sake. That game with all the memes and goofy jokes. Stupid, stupid Sean. Scared of a character model. Jose would never let me live it down. I just laughed and laughed to push the fear away.
I closed my laptop and took out my phone to rewatch all of my favorite TF2 animations for the millionth time. As if they weren’t already the funniest things in the world, I forced myself to laugh even harder than usual. Every time I saw the Engineer, I couldn’t help but look at the reflection in his goggles. The reflection of an endless map of black and white squares.
Thankfully, nothing bad happened to my game, account or laptop. The next day I just went right back to playing and enjoying the rage coming from all the people who ran right into my sentries.
Team Engineer was still a thing, but it was never really the same. We played together a lot less frequently. It was still a lot of fun, but I felt a change that I couldn’t really describe.
We found out that Craig had lost all progress on his TF2 account. Everyone gifted him all his favorite cosmetics and we all pooled our money together to get him a Steam gift card. He video called us, crying at our kindness. It was the first time I ever even saw his face. He was a lot older than most of us. If I had to guess an age, I’d say somewhere around 30. He had black bangs and was wearing a TF2 shirt. His room was dark, only lit by his glowing computer screen. He thanked us repeatedly and even tried to return the gift card, but we were all adamant that he should keep it.
Speaking of Craig, we still kept in touch but he didn’t talk to me as much anymore. Any time I tried to ask him about vl_sentry, he ignored me for a few days.
The other day, I got some postcards from my cousin Matthew. He was very academic and happened to be studying at a private high school about 9 hours away from where I live. All of his postcards were pictures of him making funny faces with all his friends at favorite school activities like robotics, debate team, and chess club.
I looked at the chess club photo closely. Matthew and his friends were standing in front of a chessboard with a mirror on the wall. And for a split second, I could have sworn that the chessboard looked different in the mirror. It looked warped, like it wasn’t a flat board anymore. Like it almost had hills and valleys. No, it couldn’t be. I rubbed my eyes. There, in the mirror was a checkered man. I knew it was there. I swear on my mother’s life that there was another person in that photo. And then it was gone. Maybe the picture was just printed badly. But I had to make sure my eyes were right.
So I brought the postcard to school with me and I showed Jose. I asked him if he saw the checkered man in the mirror. He said no. But that wasn’t the answer I wanted to hear. That was the answer I hoped I wouldn’t hear. I asked him again. He said no again. Then I asked him another time. He said I was being annoying. So I asked another one of my friends. He said no too. So I moved on to yet another friend. He told me to stop.
I angrily clutched the postcard in my hand, crumpling it. I was the only one that saw what was really there. Everyone else was lying to me. They refused to see the truth.
I screamed and ripped up the postcard. I stomped on its pieces. I rubbed them in the dirt for good measure.
Somewhere in the distance, I heard the sound of electronics beeping.
It rang in my ears.
It was weirdly comforting to me.
You can leave the Valley of the Sentries. But the valley will never leave you.

I’m writing this while in orientation for a job that I know I’m not returning to. This is the bajillionth job I’ve had since HS 5 years ago, and no matter where I work it’s bad. It’s not that I dont want to work, it’s that modern day “working” is literally not worth it, and nothing can convince me that it is. Not only am I not paid enough to deal with the shit I deal with, people’s mismanagement and hatred for each other makes everything worse. Then I have to come home and deal with a mother that thinks I dont work hard enough, meanwhile she sat in A/C all day on the computer keke-ing until 5pm where she can happily log off and lay on the couch.
I’ve literally been everywhere now. Warehouse, customer service, retail, healthcare, food service, HR, nonprofit work, the whole shebang. These fields are notoriously bad for the mental, but there is a 0% chance I will get any of the “introvert friendly” jobs that people tell you that exists.
It’s sad that as a black woman, I can make jokes about being a slave at work, and instead of being looked at crazy, people laugh. Modern day slavery is not fucking funny, yet all we can do is laugh and keep slaving. Like the good little slaves we all are.
I’m so lucky that I still live at home with mom…but I’m not sure how/if I’ll live when she’s gone. Or how long she will tolerate my “quitting shennanigans”.

So, I'm not entirely sure what my goal is with this post. One thing I know for certain is that it will be very long, and probably sort of jumbled and frantic, more stream of consciousness than anything. I guess I just sort of wanted to share some of the important realizations I've had in recent months, and see if: 1. Other people think that they're fair or "correct" realizations, and I'm not becoming, like, delusional or something. 2. Maybe my sharing these perspectives will help or inspire someone else who has struggled in ways similar to me.
So, here's the basic background of things. I've always been a really reserved and quiet person, ever since I was a little kid. Add in being skinny and nerdy for most of my life, and maxing out at a height of 5'9", and I'm not exactly a hot product for the average girl my age (19, turning 20 in a few weeks). In fact, I'd never had a relationship until this past year in college, but I'll get more into that in a minute. Hell, I hadn't had so much as a first kiss until this past year, either.
And, at the beginning of this past school year, being my second year of college (as a commuter student, so socializing is pretty difficult), I began to really get down on myself for having never been in a relationship, never kissed a girl, being a virgin, etc. It started to really take a toll on my mental health, because I believed that there was something intrinsically wrong and unlovable about me. Whereas a lot of young men who struggle socially romantically seem to be directing their sadness, frustration, and anger outward toward the world, especially toward women, I instead found myself directing those feeling toward myself. I was convinced that, on a basic level, there was some vital component to who I am as a person that disqualifies me from being worthy of love or affection. After all, that's what 19 years of evidence suggest, right?
Looking back, I think a large component in this was how I had been struggling, and still struggle to a degree, with my identity as a young man. I'm naturally a pretty progressive person, and I make an effort to be open to the perspectives of other groups and listen to their stories. Unfortunately, as we all know, a lot of people have been harmed by the men in their lives. And I know, I know: if I'm not doing anything wrong myself, then I shouldn't take any of these stories personally.But I guess, given the poor mental state that I was already in, I took it as validation that there was in fact something intrinsically wrong about me, and that thing was being a man. I started to avoid people on the street, especially if they were a woman or presented as feminine. At work, I avoid going anywhere near female customers, out of fear of making them uncomfortable. I'd keep my head down walking from class to class on campus, worried that I might make someone uneasy with my gaze. It wasn't that I thought I was a threat; in fact, I knew that I was not. But I also knew that the people around me didn't know that. In their eyes, maybe they have to assume that I'm a creep or that I'm a dangerous type of man. And it hurt to realize that, and I realize now, like I said, that I took it as validation that there was something intrinsically wrong with me.
Due to that, as well as other factors, such as stress and exhaustion from overworking (I'm a full-time student and work about 30 hours a week, which is a lot for me, might not be for others, I admit), I experienced some of the worst periods of depression I've ever had, since being diagnosed with it and anxiety in 2021. I tried going to therapy. I went to a few sessions, then gradually started missing more and more due to a lack of time, until my therapist cancelled all of our scheduled future sessions. It was on me. I wasn't committed.
I lost my passion for my hobbies and interests, like creative writing, which had previously been an important emotional outlet for me. A lot of nights would be spent lying in bed, listening to a playlist filled with sad music and hugging a pillow, wishing it was someone who loved me in the way that I thought, or hoped, love would work.
At the behest of my friends, to whom I only presented my issues as being a little down about never having been in a relationship, I started messing around with dating apps. At first, I felt good about making some sort of effort to put myself out there. Like I said, I've always been insanely reserved, so doing something like making a dating profile felt like an accomplishment. Of course, nothing much came of it. Over the five or so months that I was on the app, I maxed out at about six likes on my profile, and only matched with two people.
But one of those two people was a girl who went to the same college as me, and we seemed to have a lot of interests in common. And I mean a lot. To the point that it was almost comical. Of course, I realize now that having some hobbies in common isn't enough to form a good relationship with someone, but I realize now that I was just desperate for someone who I could convince myself halfway-tolerated me. She and I started to go out, and after a while, we decided to make things "official." My first kiss. My first relationship. My first girlfriend.
It lasted for only a few months. After a while, something felt off. I wasn't as excited to see her as I had been before. It was hard for us to make time for each other, between my working and her being involved in extracurricular stuff around campus. Car rides and dates began to be filled with longer and more frequent stretches of awkward silence, as I tried to think of something to say or talk about, only to come up empty-handed. As we got to know each other better, I realized that we didn't have as much in common as I first thought. She was a little more conservative, not necessarily in a political sense, but more in terms of "status", if that makes sense. I learned that financial success was very important to her parents, and I could tell that it was important to her, too. She avoided telling her parents that I was an English major, instead opting to tell them that I was getting a degree in computer science, as that was my minor at the time. It seemed to me that the status of a relationship was more important to her than the quality of the relationship (pot calling the kettle black, yes, I realize). For example, there was a dance on campus that she wanted to go to, pretty much just to take pictures of the two of us together so she could show them to friends and family. But as for the dance itself, it was more of the same that had been happening before: awkward silence, short conversations, lots of looking around at anything other than each other.
After a while, I decided that, for both of our sakes, I needed to break things off. I didn't want to waste her time when I knew that my heart wasn't in it anymore. So, at the beginning of April, I drove over to her dorm, and we talked it over in my car for a while. At the end, we hugged one last time, and I haven't seen her since.
I think a key component in the decision I made is the fact that I reconnected with some old friends from high school, who are still local, even though they are going to another university. Over Christmas break, I hung out with them for the first time since the pandemic as, during that time, I ended up having a falling out with them over some dumb high school drama and political differences. To my surprise, they had changed a lot, and had managed to pull themselves out of the incel trajectory that I had seen them beginning to fall down during high school. They were kinder, more accepting people. My surprise was matched only by my pride in them. I had feared and assumed the worst of them, and I couldn't have been happier to be proven wrong. Since then, I've been invited back into their group chats, and I see them in-person with some regularity, when our schedules allow it.
I think having that connection made me feel more comfortable with the idea of being single again, and since the break up, I've been able to rely on them for support, laughs, and just feeling like I have somewhere I belong. Before, I found myself desperate for any kind of connection and fell into a cycle of denying myself that connection because I was convinced that, since it didn't just present itself, I wasn't worthy of it.
And maybe it has something to do with that, but on the drive home from my now-ex's dorm (though I still wonder if I should/could really call her an ex. Sure, we agreed to make things "official", but we still only dated for a few months), I felt my perspective on, well, at the risk of sounding over-dramatic or overly romantic, everything, being to change.
And I guess that's what the title of this post is about. The things I've begun to realize in the time leading up to and following that break-up.
Above all else, I've realized the importance of connection. If I didn't have a stable friend group again, I don't know where I'd be. Probably still in a stale relationship, clinging on and trying to convince myself that I'm not feeling the way that I'm feeling. I have people to talk with again, to confide in when I feel stressed or depressed. I go out and do things again, which I didn't realize I hadn't really done very much since the pandemic.
But I know that for a lot of people who are/were in the position I had been in, finding friends is difficult. If it weren't for my unique circumstances of being reunited with an old, estranged group of friends, I would absolutely be in the same position. I still really struggle with social anxiety, and talking to new people is a huge struggle for me. So, I've also had some realizations that don't have as much to do with the friendship side of things, and I hope that these can be of some use to people who also struggle with social anxiety.
I know that the idea of "working on yourself" is cliche and overused, so I won't frame it exactly like that. In my opinion, saying it like that makes it sound too daunting and tedious, and having been in those dark, dark places myself, I know that it was the last thing I wanted to hear. So, instead, I like to think of it this way. It's more like living in spite of your circumstances. Over the course of this past year, I essentially shut my life down, because I was so convinced that there was no point, because I felt that I knew that I would never be loved or accepted. Now, I feel an urge to go on living for myself, almost in direct spite of the fear that I may be forever alone. It's a fear that I still deal with, and who knows, maybe things will end up that way.
And, I suppose, that leads into my main realization, which is sort of an extension/restatement of the last one, now that I think about it. I now feel the desire to accumulate enough in my life, to reach a point where I am satisfied enough, that I can rest knowing that I will be okay, with or without a relationship. Before, my self-worth was almost entirely attached to my relationship status, and my lack of romantic experience. Now, I realize that a relationship can only come when I don't need it, or at least don't feel that I need it. Being a huge nerd and a writer, I think a lot about quotes from books, shows, movies, and games that have stuck with and there's one from God of War: Ragnarok that comes to mind here (by the way, I actually highly recommend playing or watching a playthrough of God of War 2018 and Ragnarok if you've struggled with masculinity in the same way I have, the music and cutscenes from those games have actually helped to pull me out of some mental spirals about my self-worth and identity as a man). It comes from a scene in which Kratos confronts his younger self, and is trying to decide if he is willing/ready to be a god again:
"Should I lose everything and everyone, will there still be enough left inside so that I do not become you? I do not know. But I have hope."
It's a quote that resonates with me now more than ever (even though it's from a DLC that just came out around Christmas, lol). I know now that I want to get to a place where there is enough left inside me that I know I'll never fall into that dark mental state again.
Something else that I've noticed has happened is the return of my passions for my hobbies and interests, especially for writing. I don't want to sound too arrogant, but I think I've begun to realize an important goal for my writing. If I'm lucky enough, I want to be able to write and release stories that explore masculinity and isolation, and, if I can, I want to create stories that can help guide other young men and boys who have struggled in the way I have and continue to do. I want to create characters who serve as positive male role models, who are emotionally strong, intelligent, and kind. I want to write stories of personal redemption, and show that no one is truly ever too far gone to be able to recover. If my writing could help even just one person who is struggling, then I would consider my career to be a success.
At the risk of being too cheesy, I'd like to end this very long-winded post with another quote, this one from a YouTube channel I recently discovered, and one I would highly recommend to just about anyone: Cinema Therapy. It's from their video about "A Silent Voice", which also happens to be one of my favorite movies, and one of my main inspirations when it comes to the kinds of stories I want to tell.
"Depression doesn't go away, doesn't lift for most people. But there's a capacity to feel again. There's a capacity to feel joy. The cure for so many things is connection. And we may think 'no one want to connect with me.' But we just need to find the right people."
I think the only thing I would add to that is that, in my opinion, the connection can also be with yourself.

My Oura was on point until I had my miscarriage. I did turn on “pregnancy mode” but all it did was remove my temperature readings and replaced it with my trimesters
Everyday I got a really low readiness score and the app kept telling me I needed to take it easy.. hello I was pregnant
Then I had a miscarriage & turned pregnancy mode off & now it’s telling me it’s been too long since I logged my period 🙄

For months my computer has suffered from a sporadic loss of display followed by a computer restart or freeze. I apologize if I have selected the wrong flair as I don't know if it's caused by drivers, faulty hardware or if it's a BSOD. It always starts with my monitors going black so I haven't actually seen a blue screen.
Symptoms

• Loss of display, monitors goes black but any sound playing will continue for a while, it also sounds like the CPU fan is set to max speed followed by a computer restart after approximately two minutes. This leads to the generation of a DMP file.
  
• Loss of display, monitors goes black, any sound seems to disappear immediately, sounds like the CPU fan is set to max speed and the computer seems to freeze up / stop responding. In these cases I have waited as much as 11 minutes before turning the machine off. In these cases no DMP files are generated but Event Viewer shows a ton of nvldmkm.sys and / or dwm.exe errors.
  

The first time it occoured was in November 2023 during a loading screen in TW Warhammer 3, at the time i didn't think much of it but it soon happend again in the same situation. Over the coming months the frequency of the error would increase significantly. At the time of writing the error has occoured more than 40 times. I started logging what I was doing at the time of the error. It most commonly occoured shortly after launching a game. At some point it was almost 50-50 if the PC would crash from launching a game.
Statistics

• The Error has occoured 20+ times within 3 minutes of launching a game. I've timed this with a stopwatch.
• The Error has occoured 6 times while in the middle of a game, with 1 hour + playtime.
• The Error has occoured 4 times shortly after closing a game, within 3 minutes of closing the game.
• The Error has occoured 6 times during regular web browsing, reddit, youtube etc.

The Error is not unique to one game. It has occoured when playing 10 different games.
Technical Specifications

• OS: Win11 Home
• MB: Asus TUF Gaming B650 Wifi Plus
• BIOS: 2611 (error also occoured when BIOS was 1654)
• GPU: ASUS TUF Gaming GeForce RTX 4090 OC Edition
• CPU: AMD Ryzen 7 7800X3D
• Memory: Corsair Vengeance DDR5 2x 16GB 6000mhz
• SSD: Kingston KC3000 M.2 2280 NVMe SSD 2TB
• PSU: ASUS TUF Gaming 1000W Gold

Attempted fixes by me prior to service

• Reinstalling the GPU driver multiple times, even removing it beforehand using DDU and directly downloading it from Nvidia instead of using experience.
• Reinstalling Windows multiple times. Both using the bult in "reset" function and by using a flashdrive doing a completely fresh install.
• I tried pretty much everything mentioned in this reddit thread
• I have tested using two different monitors. Normally both are in use but I have tested them individually and the error occours regardless of which monitor is connected and if both are. The monitors in question are a Asus PG279Q and a TUF VG27AQ. Both connected to the GPU with DPI cables.
• I ran memtest86 and according to it everything was okay.

The machine was returned to the seller and they attempted to fix the machine however they have been unable to diagnose the error. All they did was reinstall windows and according to them "update microsoft drivers" which I had done myself multiple times at that point. After I got the machine back from service the frequency of the error has been reduced, specifically there's no longer a high chance of the error occouring when launching a game. Most Errors has occoured during regular web browsing or in a game loading screen. The symptoms remain the same and the errors in Event Viewer are the same.
Attempted fixes by the seller

• Reinstall Windows
• Update Bios to 2611 (was 1654 prior to service)
• Performed a BurnInTest for 3 hours. No issues.
• Performed a Furmark test for 3 hours. No issues.
• Performed a Prime test for 3 hours. No issues.
• Watched 1 hour of youtube. No Issues.

DMP Files
Here are the DMP Files. There are 10 files from before the seller attempted to fix the machine and 2 from errors occouring after.
I am at a complete loss as to what could be the issue and I don't know how to proceed. I've provided all the same information to the seller but so far they seem unable to diagnose the issue. They never tried to cause the error at their end prior to reinstalling windows when it was possible to almost guarantee an error by launching a game which is sadly no longer possible as the frequency has been reduced. This sadly makes it much more difficult to diagnose.
Recently I tried to check my realtek internet and audo drivers. They all seem up to date, they are either the same or newer than the ones showed in Asus Armory Crate and on the Motherboard's website. I've tried using Wi-Fi instead of an ethernet cable and using different DPI ports on the GPU but the error still occours.
Please help, Thanks.

Wow! This turned out so long and was helpful to write when I was feeling really really awful an hour ago. Here it goes:
I’ve been following this page and a few others once I saw information on video game addiction a few months ago. I saw my family and step-son in so many of the stories, my heart and mind was transformed. I don’t feel alone and my son is certainly not alone in his struggles. To be honest I’m scared to start this new journey, and I’ll get to that more later.
I always knew something was different about my step-son’s gaming, and it’s been a struggle since 2-3 years old based on what his Dad has told me. Here’s a bit of a background of our family dynamic.
Jake had Pete when he was 19 and never had a relationship with Mom, Kate. They split custody and it was evident she was using hard drugs and lost full custody of Pete when he was 9. A lot of his time with Mom was spent on an iPad without regulation as early as 2. Routines, locations, and security was not always present. It’s tough to think about the severity of what Pete experienced. At this time school was difficult, and Pete was diagnosed with ADHD. Meds helped a lot, and once Jake had full custody he was all about routine routine routine, healthy foods, activities, table top games nightly, camping, you name it! His passion for being a single Dad to Pete is why I ultimately fell in love with him two years later. When I started hanging out I noticed Pete playing a lot of games and not being the sporty type or hanging out with friends. By this point he was playing Minecraft after school and on the weekends pretty regularly. Jake was a good video game police officer and we still had a ton of time together as a new family. Pete is kind and very easy going and we started a great relationship fairly quickly. Jake and I agreed and often disagreed about the severity of Pete’s gaming, but we would come together and set some house rules and go on with life. As soon as we got busy, Pete would dive deep into computer games and grades would drop. We would see feces in his underwater, lack of hygiene, not getting up, laptop under his pillow, exc. Almost like clockwork by spring break, we’d have this intense struggle and Pete would pull it together for the semester at the very last minute. Pete is gifted and was always in accelerated math and science glasses, but was able to do the bare minimum without studying. Repeat for the next 3 years. Fast forward to High School he went to a smaller school in a new town and actually saw more independence. He made a friend, Dan who’s still around and is everything you’d hope a friend would be to your kid. Their bond is awesome. We’d still have to police but things were getting easier and we weren’t seeing those intense “downs” like we were in elementary and middle school. I think he was more confident and even his teachers said he was crushing it! The summer was tough and we tried to fill his time up but nothing seemed to interest him. If he hung out with friends and was hygienic we just made nudges about time limits. Thinking back I think there was one more period where we found feces in his underwater end of Senior year and gaming picked up, probably because we dropped our guard.
Summer before college I got him set up with an awesome outdoor job working on a zipline/climbing course and he thrived in Pete’s type of way. Climbing is one of the only things I can suggest to Pete and he’ll usually show some interest. Confident, peppy, excited, getting himself up. Always going back to games everyday but maintaining work, a friendship, and a little independence is what we wanted so left him alone most of the home time. We nudged him into a climbing retreat as an incoming freshman to give him a head start making friends, and a clear head going into the dorms! Scary fun times, and thought it would help. Then we officially dropped him off. Wow, so many smiles and happy tears had by all. The light in his eyes and showing us around and saying how cool he felt it was probably the happiest day of our lives along with my wedding day. The day I read vows to Pete saying I’d be there forever and unconditionally. It felt like my son was ready for his future. As we were driving away Pete said his friend gave him a gaming computer for free and he was at the tech center getting it hooked up to the campus internet. Dun dun dun.
Today he’s 2 weeks into his first summer break after a year of college. Yikes. Things are not great and that’s why I am here.
It was Spring Break (here comes the pattern) and Pete was gaming, not verbally making much sense, unhygienic, lost weight, gaming non stop. He almost missed his 2 hour bus ride back to school and that’s when we snapped. The typical what the hell is going on, you’re out of control. Pete usually cries when this happens because he knows the gig is up. Eventually he told us the truth, he failed two classes his first semester (told us winter break he did fine) and is now on track to fail another science and lab. WHAT!! We drove out there the next day to meet with the dean because he told us he was on probation and we wanted to support him. We were so worried. It turns out he hasn’t had any social interaction other than winter and spring break and spent his days alone in his dorm. He didn’t even seem like himself it was so scary. We get there and we spent two days walking, going out to eat, the typical “you got this buddy” “just stop playing games for a bit” and insert the other 100 life sayings you want to say to your kid that sound so annoying to them. We can’t help it. We love him. He was like yep I got this, nodded through all of it and we left. Three weeks later we noticed on the phone things were sounding off again, and he confessed he hasn’t made up any of his work. His Dad got disappointed on the phone and Pete said he called the suicide hotline because he was getting “yelled” at. I was standing there, he wasn’t yelling but I’m sure just the sheer reality of the situation got to him. We were heart broken, and at the same time angry. We couldn’t believe he was feeling this much anxiety and possibly depression. We always knew gaming was an escape and most likely due to his background, but this just seemed too much for anyone to handle. Again, he promised to limit himself. We checked in everyday for the last three weeks not with a nag but just, how’s it going. Did you set a timer today? Amazing that’s great you’re so close to being done!! Just trying to keep it super positive. We knew it was totally out of our control. He failed, and actually never made up the work his professor said he could over a month prior. He lied more.
We knew something had to change and we were preparing his return home. Can we do game quitter? Can we just put him right into a detox in our home? Family therapy? Healthy gamer? Olganon? We wanted to smash his computer trust me, if it weren’t for my job I wouldn’t have wifi because my stomach is in knots. But, we decided relationship first, let him set his own limits (with our house rules) and really try to get to the root cause of anxiety and depression. We had good convos, we let him tell us how it’s basically all of our fault because of the pressure, no judgement. We communicated with notes and texts sometimes when things were getting frustrating. He skirted around the 3 hour daily limit every possible way. All he wants to do is play video games, watch to tube of video games, talk to “friends” on discord about games, play D&D online, or draw D&D characters. It’s just too much, it’s impossible to limit. He always had an excuse for a screen and we were still seeing 10+ hours a day on screens. He told us he’s feeling crappier everyday by us, and honestly we’re feeling freakin awful and exhausted too.
What now? Nothing. I’m literally doing nothing anymore starting today. I can’t stop crying. He won’t do his own research into gaming addiction and does not want to change. Today we just said ya know what, this isn’t working so we’ll just figure something out in a few weeks. At this very moment he’s going on hour 9 of gaming straight. Knowing how much we tried as a family to limit this for the last few weeks. I’m still angry and it’s hard to look at him right now. It feels personal to me? I know it isn’t, but it just feels that way.
Therapy!? Yep. We tried. Back when he was in middle school and high school. Didn’t want to go back and didn’t talk much. He got his own therapist at school per the deans suggestion and he goes but the one session he’s had at home, he got off within 30 minutes and said “he didn’t have much to talk about with her” and he’ll see her maybe once a month back at school. We are doing healthy gamer coaching as parents, but he is refusing to sign up for coaching on his end. My guess is the name alone. The risk of losing games is not something he’d ever discuss right now. I swore up and down they won’t make him get rid of games lol! Did not work.
What’s dad doing? Half. Literally half at all times we make a plan at night and in the morning and check in with each other about it all day long. It’s so exhausting and Jake is just ready to do whatever it takes at this point as well. He’s having the same struggles as I am and is 100% convinced it’s an addiction and has listened to a lot of podcasts exc.
My new plan…. Because I have to have “something” or I might blow up. Now I have to let natural consequences take the lead. He doesn’t have a license, because he couldn’t pick up driving skills with how his brain is on games. We tried teaching him for two years and it was honestly dangerous sometimes after a “bender. He asked me to go tomorrow and after 9 hours I’m just going to say I’d feel more comfortable if he went to driving school and he can pay with the money he earns this summer. It j=is just not safe, why does he deserve to take my car and put me in an unsafe position? I don't have to allow that... but it feels like I am still the bad guy. Looking forward, IF he fails college....when he is home he cannot have our wifi, will contribute to groceries, phone bill, and rent. We live in a rural area and without a car he can’t work. I will not be driving a 20 year old to and from work due to his brain on games. It feels wrong. Maybe he can’t support his habit without working. That’s all the “what ifs” but rarely does life go exactly how you picture it. We will just continue to get creative and roll with it.
Does anyone have any advice on how to not enable but also let them be in charge of their own destiny? Not saying anything or giving him a sad look feels impossible but I did it tonight. J was able to pretend it did not bother me that he’s been on there forever. I think I can keep that up? But I also don’t want to enable him.
My family is hurting so much. So many hugs to anyone who struggled and is currently struggling. Same to the parents who have that knot that won’t go away. Thanks for reading

There are some kinds of wisdom only great suffering can bring. I remember my time in the Bardo with this in mind, for otherwise, the memory might drive me insane.
The night my heart stopped for nearly three minutes started off normally enough. I was working as a nurse in the psychiatric ward at a hospital in the state’s capital. Most of the patients there were harmless, mostly just suicide attempts or people suffering from drug psychosis or severe depression, but some were actively dangerous and certainly psychopathic in every sense of the word. The new admission was one of these- a three-hundred pound black man with a long history of smoking PCP, schizophrenia and violent, psychotic breaks from reality.
His eyes looked like flat pieces of slate as I walked in for my shift. They looked as blank and emotionless as the eyes of a doll. He sat at the table in the front room where the patients ate or played cards, alone under the bright fluorescent lights of the hospital. I walked to the station, where another psychiatric nurse named Ricardo was sitting behind the desk.
“What’s the deal with the new guy?” I asked him. Ricardo looked up, his dark Spanish face forming into a deep scowl. He ran his fingers through his jet-black hair nervously.
“He’s trouble, man,” he said in a crisp accent. “He got in a chase with the police and then punched some cops in the face. It took three guys to take him down, even after he got maced and tased. The judge sent him here on a temporary court order, since he claims he’s been getting chased by Nazis in UFOs, and that’s why he ran from the cops. He thought the cops in their uniforms were actually the SS, and the helicopters were alien spacecraft, or something. I don’t know, I didn’t listen to the whole story.”
“You have his file?” I asked. Ricardo leafed through a stack of folders with his thin fingers, snatching one out and handing it to me. I looked down, reading the information:
“Jeremiah Brown, black male, 37-years-old.
“History: Polysubstance abuse, schizophrenia, antisocial personality disorder.
“Psychiatrist’s note: This patient has scored a 36 out of 40 on the Hare Psychopathy Checklist. While I am always hesitant to label a patient as an antisocial personality, a combination of factors has made it essential for this patient.
“Patient has an extensive criminal history as well as a lengthy history of involuntary psychiatric admissions. He has been diagnosed as having antisocial traits since he was a young teenager. Patient has a long history of violence and suicide attempts. He has a history of imprisonment for manslaughter, armed robbery, grand theft and aggravated assault. Upon discharge, he refuses to take any antipsychotic medication, citing the side effects as the reason. Long-term prognosis is poor…”
I had not been sleeping well the past few weeks. I rubbed my eyes as I read through the file, feeling exhausted. I tried putting on lucid dreaming or meditation music from YouTube to help me sleep, but whenever I closed my eyes, I saw horrible things: chalk-white female faces whose lips were cut into an insane rictus grin, flicking their heads violently from side to side and gnashing their fangs at the air. I had a feeling that many years of constantly watching horror movies and serial killer documentaries was catching up with me.
As I read through the file, a student nurse came around the corner wearing a white state university outfit and a name tag that said Kaitlyn. I looked up, seeing Ricardo wink at me from where he was sitting in his chair behind the main desk.
“She’s going to follow you,” he said. Inwardly, I groaned, but I managed to force a smile.
“Oh, great!” I said. She looked like she was probably no older than nineteen or twenty. She had a pretty body, but her face looked strange. All the angles were too sharp and her nose too large. I knew the patients here wouldn’t care, though. They would hit on anything. I sensed trouble. I looked down at my watch.
“Well, I’m Jay, and you already know Ricardo, I guess. It’s good timing, because we need to give medications every day at 9 PM. And we have a new patient, so we can introduce ourselves,” I said, giving her a faint smile.
“That’s exciting!” Kaitlyn whispered. I wanted to roll my eyes. It was definitely not exciting.
I motioned her to follow me as I made my way to the medication room, which was really just a large closet off of the main day room. I had to enter my code on a keypad, and then, once inside, enter it again along with the patient’s number and date of birth. The correct drawers for the medication in each specific dose would fly open, making it extremely hard for the wrong medications or doses to be given, unless it was done intentionally.
“OK, so for this patient, we need Haldol, Ativan and…” I began saying to Kaitlyn when the yelling started. It came out faintly, rising in volume and anger within seconds. I heard Ricardo’s Spanish voice, filled with panic. Something slammed hard against a wall, once, twice, three times, and then I heard the sound of glass breaking. I jumped, spinning around, but I couldn’t see much through the small, shatter-proof glass pane on the wooden door.
“Stay here,” I commanded, seeing Kaitlyn’s eyes widen, her freckled skin looking much paler than when we had first come in. “Don’t leave until I come back and say that it’s safe.” On the speakers strung throughout the hospital, I heard the first of the warnings echo out around us.
“Doctor Strong, Doctor Strong, please report to the seventh floor,” a robotic female voice said calmly, using the code for when a patient had to be subdued by force. I pushed the door open, slamming it shut behind me so that the lock would activate and protect Kaitlyn from whatever chaos was going on.
I heard Ricardo pleading with someone at the end of the hallway that ran past the main desk. He sounded strange, as if he were trying to talk through a mouthful of blood. Huddled behind the main computer, I saw one of the CNAs frantically whispering something in the phone. She must have been the one to call the Dr. Strong order.
“You don’t have to do this, man,” Ricardo gurgled faintly. I couldn’t see what was happening, as Jeremiah’s large body was blocking my view. I could see that the thick glass window at the end of the hallway was broken, however. My heart skipped a beat as I surmised what was likely happening.
I sprinted forward as quietly as I could, but the large man heard me. His massive body turned, his flat, dead eyes scanning me with absolute coldness and calm. I saw he had a bleeding Ricardo in his hands. Ricardo’s back and head were covered in deep cuts and shards of glass. He must have used Ricardo’s body as a battering ram to break the thick glass window. Jeremiah held Ricardo suspended halfway out the window, seven floors above the concrete walkways far below.
“Stay back, or this fucker will know what it feels like to fly,” Jeremiah said in a deep, gravelly voice. He shook Ricardo for emphasis, sending his head snapping back and forth with painful cracking sounds. Drops of blood flew from his nose and a deep gash across his cheek. Pieces of shattered glass littered the carpet, shining like countless tiny stars.
I put my hands up, taking a step back. Far behind me, I heard the front door for the psychiatric ward open. Voices echoed down the hall. Knowing that reinforcements were coming, I tried to buy some time.
“Let’s talk about this,” I said, taking a step forward slowly. “You don’t want a murder charge, do you? You’ll never see the sky again.”
“I don’t give a fuck! I’m not afraid to die!” Jeremiah screamed, pushing Ricardo onto one of the shards of broken glass still attached to the windowsill. It bit deeply into the back of his neck, sending fresh streams of blood rushing out, dripping down to the pavement far below. I heard security guards and doctors running down the hallway behind me, their voices frantic and excited. Jeremiah saw them coming. With an animalistic panic in his eyes, he lifted Ricardo up. I cried out something, stepping forward, but it was already too late. In horror, I watched as he threw Ricardo out the window.
I watched Ricardo’s body soar in a graceful arc, his arms grabbing at empty air as a scream ripped its way out of his throat. Within a fraction of a second, he had disappeared from view, but his terrified shrieking floated up to us for what seemed like a very long time. His screams ended abruptly as a shattering of bones and a wet smacking sound exploded far below us.
Jeremiah turned to me, his large body moving much faster than seemed possible. In his hand, I saw a piece of broken glass, five or six inches long and as sharp as a dagger. I tried to turn and run, but he was fast and strong. He lunged forward, his arm coming up in a blur towards my neck.
The shard entered my skin with a cold, numbing pain. I felt it slice through the flesh easily, felt the blood bubbling up my throat as I tried to scream, choking. The taste of iron filled my mouth as I fell backwards. I was suffocating, I knew. I must be dying.
Something cold ran down my body, gripping my heart like freezing, skeletal hands. The world swam around me and turned black. And then I was rising into a tunnel. At first, it was dark, filled with flickering shadows, but a fiery red light appeared at the end. I followed it, no more than a screaming mass of consciousness rising up into infinity.
***
I rose up through the end of the tunnel and found myself in an empty hospital ward. It looked identical to the psychiatric ward I had just come from. It even had the same smashed, blood-streaked window at the end of the hallway. A massive puddle of blood about ten feet away marked the spot where I must have died. But the fluorescent lights overhead here were flickering, and many had gone totally dark. The shadows seemed to press in on all sides.
The doors to the patients’ rooms were all tightly shut. I felt watched, afraid to call out or make any noise. I started walking down the hallway back towards the day room where the front desk was. All the lights there were out. A thick curtain of shadows hung in the air.
“You can come out,” a male voice as smooth as glass called from the darkness. I jumped, my head flicking in random directions, but I saw nothing. The voice almost sounded like it had an English lilt to it, a slight Cockneyed accent. “I know you’re there.”
“Who’s there?” I called out, not stepping forward. “Show yourself.”
“As you wish…” the voice hissed. “But I think you’ll regret it.”
***
The darkness split apart as if a nuclear missile had exploded. I raised my hand to shield my face, but the light and heat kept pouring out all around me. It blinded me, causing a rainbow of colors and shapes to morph behind my closed eyelids. After a few seconds, it subsided. Blinking rapidly, I squinted in the direction the voice had come from.
A male figure stood there, bathed in a silhouette of light. His face looked as white and as smooth as marble. His eyes were pits of darkness that seemed to flicker and burn. Two black, rotted wings surrounded his body, all sharp angles and thin, curving bones. His body was clothed in silky, blood-red robes, and a hood covered his platinum blonde hair.
He looked somewhat similar to Leonardo DiCaprio, if he was possessed by some ancient god, and it immediately threw me off-guard. If I was dying, and this was a hallucination of my brain, why would I be hallucinating Mr. DiCaprio?
“Who are you?” I asked, taking a hesitant step back. “Where am I?”
“My name is Lucifer, the Bringer of Light and Wisdom, and you are in the Bardo,” he answered.
“Oh,” I said, my heart dropping. “Well, that’s not good. Are you here to torture me or drag to me to Hell or something? You are that Lucifer, right? The Accuser of God and the Father of All Lies?”
“So they say, but, like most things in your world, the words of the powerful and your rulers are the true lies. They call me the Accuser, but of what am I accused?” he spoke in a voice that rose like smoke. “Of bringing knowledge and wisdom to humanity by telling them to eat from the tree of knowledge, the tree that would cause them to rise above the animals?
“Indeed, at the beginning, I saw the creation. I was there at the alpha, standing by the side of God with all the angels as the universe came into being. The endless procession of light, the power of it, was something remarkable to behold. God is, indeed, the source of great power, but his consciousness is not what the believers say.
“After the creation of the universe, I saw his plan, how he ripped eternal souls from the source to imprison them. I saw how he took these divine sparks and forced them, screaming and wailing, into bodies made of meat to die over and over again. He said it was part of the plan, the great, divine plan, a plan of death and destruction, constant suffering and mindless agony. And the worst part was, he wanted to give humanity neither the knowledge of good and evil, nor the tree of life. I convinced them to eat the fruit so they could open their eyes to their nakedness, to their basic animal existence, so they could rise up out of it forever.
“Like Prometheus, I brought down the fire, and yet they call me the Accuser? God was insane long before he formed the universe. These holy men, they live and die in fanatical adoration to a divine being who is, in fact, totally indifferent to them.
“His consciousness twists and distorts, eating itself for all eternity. God feeds off the pain of others, for if his mind is burning, then all others should burn as well. When these holy men die, God will send their souls here to the Bardo, to suffer every evil they have ever done. The wisdom I brought those who called upon me freed them from this prison, and in exchange, the holy men burned them alive. I offered the wisdom that opens your eyes, but it has been forgotten and cursed.”
Lucifer’s body began to dissolve, drifting up into the air like ashes. All around me, a low, powerful current blew, a tornado that spiraled high up into the clouds. Like some sort of Cheshire Cat, his smooth voice continued to echo all around me, even as the form of Lucifer disappeared.
“And yet, you have not the wisdom. For that, like all the others who enter the Bardo, you must suffer, everything you’ve done. Every small hurt and agony inflicted on others comes back a thousand-fold in this place, but don’t be afraid.”
“How could I not be afraid?!” I screamed into the ward, but I found myself alone, the question hanging unanswered in the air.
***
The lights continued to flicker all down the hallway. Feeling strange and dissociated, I stumbled over to one of the windows. As I gazed out, I beheld a strange and alien world.
The sky was flat and gray. It stayed in constant motion, swirling and spiraling, like clouds of roiling smoke. There was no Sun or Moon, no stars, only the strange, shifting whorls of clouds. The streets were filled with burned-out husks of cars and mummified bodies hung from streetlamps. Other signs of carnage and bloodshed covered the apocalyptic streets. I saw what looked like shadows in the shape of people slinking through over the sidewalks, past rotting dogs and streaks of clotted blood. They had no features on their blank, dark bodies. They seemed to skitter and jerk forwards in eerie, twisting motions.
Horrified, I turned away, realizing I was no longer alone in the day room. In the day room, there were dozens of tables set up inside a rectangular perimeter that was walled in by cosmetic walls only four feet high. It was where the patients sat and played games or ate.
Under the flickering lights, I now saw each of the chairs filled with faceless mannequins. Many were dressed in Victorian suits and tophats. The women had frilly dresses of pink and blue that might have been fashionable in the 1800s.
As the lights strobed on and off overhead, I realized with an increasing sense of disquiet that the mannequins were moving each time it went dark. When I had first seen them, they were mostly posed to look like they were staring across the tables at each other, even though they had no eyes, just smooth, flesh-colored plastic. Now all of them were looking directly at me. Some were pointing or raising their hands in my direction. At the tips of their fingers, I saw the glittering of steel. The lights continued to flicker, and the mannequins rose from their chairs in the short periods of darkness, moving towards me in synchronized, strobing motions.
Frantically, I ran down the hallway back towards the broken window. In each of the rooms, I caught glimpses of something from a nightmare peeking out. I hadn’t been sleeping well lately, and when I had closed my eyes, I often saw ancient hags with chalk-white skin and yellowed, broken teeth whose jaws unhinged, their faces jerking in stuttering, dissonant ways that reminded me of the mannequins. Now, on both sides of me, I saw these same figures. They moved continuously out of the rooms, drawing closer with every breath.
I looked back, seeing the mannequins only a few steps behind me. I continued sprinting towards the broken window where the hallway ended in a wall. I didn’t know what would happen when I reached it. At that moment, there was no rational thought. I felt like a deer being chased down by a pack of wolves, feeling waves of blind panic and mortal terror rushing through my body.
But as I reached the end of the hallway, the end of my rope as it were, a blast of noise started, seeming to come from the walls of the building and the sky itself. It sounded like a siren, a low, drawn-out drone of a demonic whale call, rising and falling in crashing crescendos. The mannequins froze in place once again. The strange, witch-like creatures slunk back into the dark rooms.
I looked outside the broken window, seeing clouds of black smoke rising off in the distance. The flickering of massive infernos scorched the land, drawing nearer by the second. The siren sound faded slowly, like the dying echoes of a gong.
I was surrounded by dozens of mannequins. Their sharp hands were inches away from my face and neck. I saw metal glittering all around me and realized they had the sharp points of nails protruding from the ends of their fingers. I was afraid to move, but I heard a familiar voice from down the hallway. It was the confident voice of Lucifer.
“The siren means much worse nightmares than these are coming in the Bardo,” he said, his glossy, black eyes flashing with intelligence. He walked slowly towards me, his face grim and pale. “Hell itself is coming over the land. This building is no more than a construction of your dying mind, but the world outside is real.”
“How can Hell come and go?” I asked, confused. “Isn’t Hell a place?”
“Hell is a monster, a beast with many mouths and many eyes,” Lucifer responded. “It eats constantly, but its hunger never ends. Look, the first of the sacrifices scatter like cockroaches.” He pointed out the broken window, pushing his way through the mannequins effortlessly. I glanced outside, seeing thousands of people sprinting down the dark city streets. The inferno and thick clouds of smoke had moved much closer, and every few seconds, the ground shook slightly, as if we were experiencing the aftershocks of an earthquake.
“What can I do against such a beast?” I asked, my heart freezing with terror. But when I looked back over, I saw his form dissolving again, becoming translucent and drifting away like ashes. It seemed even Lucifer didn’t want to be present when the Hell-beast arrived.
“Seek divine wisdom,” he said, his voice trailing off into whispers. “Remember the source.”
***
Now crowds of tens of thousands of people were streaming into the city, filling every single inch of the streets. Their panic and fear was contagious. I felt it rising inside my body like a snake spiraling up my spine. I took off down the hallway, running through the swarm of frozen mannequins, each in their own ferocious position of attack. The lights flickered faster and went out. Yet the fires outside cast the entire world in a bloody glow, giving me enough light to see by and find my way. I sprinted down the stairwell, taking them two steps at a time. The screaming outside grew louder and more pain-filled. The shaking of the ground worsened with every passing second.
I burst out of the front entrance, seeing a world on fire all around me. Thousands of crushed, bleeding and burned bodies stretched out as far as the eye could see. Behind all this chaos and death, I saw a monster of unimaginable proportions slinking its way towards me.
Lucifer was right, I realized: Hell was not a place, but a creature, an enormous monster the size of a town. It had thousands of skittering, jointed legs that looked like little more than skeletal arms and hands, each of them dozens of feet long and white as freshly-cut marble. Its body stretched out to the horizon, an enormous blood-red cylinder of bony plates that slithered and undulated with a serpentine grace. Waves of peristalsis traveled down its length, like writhing intestines. Thousands of curving, bony spikes stabbed out of it, pointing in every direction. Like the quills of a porcupine, it would protect the massive creature’s body from many forms of attack, if anything was big enough to attack such an abomination.
Hell’s massive eyes flickered, balls of fire that spun and danced. They looked as bright as the Sun. Something like solar flares seemed to emanate from the orbs, flashes of blinding energy that floated over the apocalyptic wasteland. As its many legs smashed the ground, they left trails of fire that caused everything to explode into flames as if napalm dripped from its limbs.
But Hell’s most terrifying feature was its seven dark mouths. Its body looked a thousand feet wide, and the mouths at the front were evenly dispersed. At the front, blood-red teeth in the shape of enormous railroad spikes shone. Its lipless, skeletal face grinned as it moved forward, shaking the ground with every step. The mouths were on long, snake-like necks that could stretch out hundreds of feet. They moved forward in a blur, snapping up as many panicked souls as they could.
Countless souls in the rocky plains of the Bardo ran for their lives, away from this juggernaut. I saw men and women who looked like they came from every country and profession, some dressed in suits or spotless white lab coats, others wearing rags or orange prison jumpsuits. And yet, they all screamed in agony and fear here, their bodies pressed together in a crowd, and no one seemed to remember anything but their own mortal terror. Their voices came out faint and weak next to the roaring of Hell. It shook the ground all around us, as if an earthquake were tearing the land apart.
The first frantic runners of the surging crowd had nearly reached me. The nearest person, a young woman in her mid-twenties dressed in all white, was only ten feet behind me. She looked like she came from wealth, and even from here, I could see a ring with a massive diamond gleaming on her finger.
I took off blindly down the familiar streets of the city where I worked and lived, but these also seemed different. The church down the street from the hospital where I worked had a Satanic pentagram instead of a cross now, its exterior painted a bright, gleaming blood-red. When I had driven past it today on my way to work, I remember it read, “JESUS said, ‘I am the Way, the Truth and the Life. No one comes to the Father except through Me.’”
Now it read, “Nietzsche said, ‘Of all evil, I deem you capable. I have often laughed at the weaklings who thought themselves good simply because they had no claws.’” I wondered what that meant. Was that some sort of comment on me, on all of us here?
The woman I had seen running had caught up with me. She was fast, much faster than her slim body suggested. Her blue eyes were frantic and wild, filled with an animal panic.
“It’s right behind us!” she screamed, her face covered in a sheen of sweat. I was afraid to turn and look, but I could hear the chaos and bloodshed approaching, smell the flames and choking smoke. “Run! Get away!”
A new wave of energy surged through my body. I sprinted as fast I could down the strange mirror streets of the Bardo. I heard the agonized cries of countless souls behind us as the seven mouths of Hell ate them all greedily and then looked for more.
A skyscraper behind us collapsed into a pile of rubble, shaking the ground with a cacophony of falling concrete and shattering glass. The woman was running by my side. Just as I heard the breathing of something huge and predatory right behind us and smelled its sulfuric breath, a piece of concrete the size of a basketball broke off the collapsing skyscraper and flew into the road. I tripped over it, yelling as I flew through the air, skinning my arms and legs on the pavement. The woman’s eyes widened. Hurriedly, she came over and reached down her hand, trying to help me up.
“Come on, come on!” she cried. I looked behind her, seeing one of the gnashing mouths of Hell reaching forward on a blood-red, serpentine neck. The mouth was big enough to drive a tractor trailer into, filled with huge spikes of teeth. Its throat led into a black, smoke-filled abyss. Its fiery eyes were swirling pools of flickering orange light that shone with bloodlust and insanity. They focused on the woman, the entire head turning on its slithering neck.
I frantically raised my hand, intertwining my fingers with hers. Her hand was warm and soft. She started to pull me to my feet when the mouth of Hell snapped forward. Its jaw unhinged, scraping the pavement with a sound like grinding metal. The woman barely had time to turn as the mouth covered her and snapped shut with a crack.
She disappeared from view instantly, but I was still holding her hand. In horror, I felt warm rivers of blood explode all over my body as the mouth of Hell severed her arm at the wrist. She screamed, bleeding and crying, as she disappeared into the throat of Hell. Hell’s fiery eyes focused on me, and at that moment, I knew I was next. Its mouth opened wide again, like a bear trap ready to spring on a new victim.
It was dark in Hell’s mouth, but I smelled the thick reek of old blood and fire. I caught glimpses of tortured, mutilated bodies writhing and crawling down its throat. Shell-shocked, I could only lay there and watch. And that was when the strange doubling started.
***
I heard the frantic voices of men break through the fog of darkness and the fetid reek of blood. There was a mechanical beeping all around me, but I couldn’t tell where it was coming from.
“Clear!” one cried. I looked around, only seeing blackness. At that moment, I felt a surge of electricity rip itself through my body. My arms and legs all seized and my eyes rolled up in my head as the pain sizzled through each one of my nerves. I clutched the young woman’s hand tightly, feeling the large, gold ring with the massive diamond biting into my skin.
“Again!” another voice yelled.
“Clear!” the original voice cried. The electricity came again, and a flash of white light flew across my vision. I blinked, seeing from two sets of eyes at the same time: one in the Bardo, and one on the blood-stained floor of the hospital ward.
The Bardo stayed dark and sinister, but the clear white lights of the real psychiatric ward were blinding. It was a bizarre experience. Moreover, everything hurt. Over a few seconds, my vision of the Bardo faded, and I was simply a gravely injured man laying on the floor in a puddle of blood.
Four doctors and paramedics were crouching over me with a defibrillator. My shirt was ripped off, and nearly all of my skin was covered in blood. I raised my left hand, trying to talk, but only a fiery pain raced through my neck. I felt bandages covering my skin. A nurse was rolling a stretcher down the hallway towards me.
“It’s OK,” one of the doctors said, kneeling down. “You’re being taken to emergency surgery. You’ve lost a lot of blood.” I wanted to say something, but I couldn’t talk with the massive slice in my neck.
At that moment, I felt something in my right hand. I looked down, seeing a slim female hand with a massive diamond ring hanging there. Our fingers were wrapped around each other’s, but the hand had been cut off at the wrist. A ragged patch of bloody flesh and snapped bone poked out of the back.
“Nnnn,” I tried to say, shaking my head. I felt fresh streams of warm blood open up. “No…” The doctors looked down, seeing the dismembered hand. Their faces morphed into expressions of confusion and fear.
I closed my eyes as they lifted me up on the stretcher. One of them gently removed the cold hand from my fingers. But they could never remove the memory of what I had seen.
I know what happens after death, and it makes the worst life here seem like a dream. I know that, one day, I’ll be returned to that place. I know that, one day, I’ll see that great monster called Hell and the featureless, swirling sky of the Bardo again.
And the next time, I won’t wake up on a hospital floor, but will be trapped there with the others for eternity: an eternity of blood and fire.

I really want to be mature about this and not bash Asus, because it has been nothing but grueling, repetitive, disappointing, and overall just makes me sad being that I have been an ASUS customer for over a decade.
I was one of the first <75 people to buy this board. Last Support ticket was escalated to the office of the CIO last year. Wild ride with them. Nonetheless, I've had to solve these problems by myself and/or with Reddit peeps.
Anyway:
Asus ProArt z790 Creator
i13900k
2x Samsung 990 Pro nvme SSDs (in top slot (2_1 I believe?) and have moved other SSD around slots 2 3 and 4 with no luck)
GPU blocks 1 of the nvme ports so it's annoying to move these around.
Enabled RAID0 configs in bios (obviously upgraded bios to latest version). Do not have Legacy boot enabled. Have Windows UEFI enabled. VMD enabled for both pcie and SATA, tried disabling one another as well. Tried everything I could think of in BIOS.
Downloaded the VMD IRST driver from Asus website, specifically for this board.
I boot from either a Windows 10 or 11 USB installer. I finally make it to the pre-install phase. No storage listed. I think load the driver. Success! I see the RAID. Mind you, ASUS support dropped off wayyyyy before I got to this point. You'd think they would know to at least go to their website, look under RAID, and see that you need an IRST driver. Nope!
I format, it partitions, the pre-install gets all the way to the finish line and then fails with the error "windows could not prepare the computer to boot into the next phase of installation windows. I got into the command prompt and searched for logs but they really didn't have much in them that I could find.
I thought to myself, ok this now is a Windows issue. I then tried to load Debian Linux installer. It found the RAID which was nice, said it was writing all 0s to erase it, but again, could not access it properly to write the install.
Thus... I am at a loss. I have seen other people successfully run RAID0 or RAID1 on this. And before the Reddit keyboard warriors derail this and ask why RAID, blah blah blah, it's because at 64 or 128 the RAID provides signif performance improvements when editing 4k video files, moving big files across my 10G LAN (10G NIC was why I got this mobo), etc.
Any help would be really great. Else, I'll wait another week for ASUS Tier 1 to ask me the same questions I've answered 4x already... over email. Troubleshooting over email, getting a different person each time, no phone or live sharescreens is just outrageous. They could move tickets so much faster if they did this lol.

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

The famous baseballer, Jackie Robinson, he once said: “A life is not important except in the impact it has on other lives.” I could not agree more. That is why I try to make as much impact on my faces’ lives as possible. After all, they have done so much for me. It is the least I can do. Unlike them, I need not fear what people think of me. So I can be brave where they are weak. For I will just be someone else tomorrow.

Born in Russia to the Grand Duke Nikolai Kravinoff, Dmitri Nikolaievich Smerdyakov was treated like trash by his noble father and his working class mother. Young Dmitri was approached one day by Gustav Fiers, who was impressed by the boy's impressions and paid for a trip to Karl Fiers academy. There, Dmitri would learn to master the arts of disguise, vocal impression and infiltration, becoming the Chameleon upon his graduation.
He'd move to America and use his talents to pull off high-scale burglary, working for any group that could afford his fee, including the Communist party, Hydra or the Green Goblin. His elicit activity brought him into conflict with the Hulk, Iron Man and most often Spider-Man, all of whom had to act with great caution when the Chameleon was in town. After all, which one of them could tell if that unassuming civilian or their own ally was preparing to stab them in the back?
Dmitri has some mental hangups over his time with the Kravinoffs. He’s managed to repress the memories and considered himself good friends with his half-brother Kraven. In reality, he was more like a whipping boy and slave to the Hunter, and when he has to wrestle with those feelings, he can mentally revert to that scared little boy with no strong sense of identity or independence. But when he’s able to move past these feelings, the Chameleon has proved himself as a powerful, manipulative force, finding his place as temporary Crime Master of New York and member of the Sinister Six.
Scaling

• Spider-Man
• Kraven the Hunter
• Captain America
• Daredevil
• Deadpool

Notes
During one of Dmitri’s mental breaks, he began to believe that he was his deceased half-brother, Kraven the Hunter. So exact was the Chameleon’s performance that he moved and fought with the hunter’s skill and agility. This was an extreme fringe case and there are no other examples of a disguise altering Chameleon's capabilities like this. Physical and skill-related feats from this period will be marked with [KH].
Hover over a feat to see which issue it's from.

Physicals

General

• He’s taken some of Kraven’s potions, which extends his natural lifespan and protects from disease
• Kraven later notes that he only allowed the Chameleon to drink some of his potions, enhancing his strength, although not nearly as much as the Hunter himself

Strength
Unarmed Striking

• Downs a cop with a punch to the back of the head
• Boxes Alexei Kravinoff’s ears, flooring the bigger man
• Tackles and restrains Bruce Banner
• While posing as Tigra, he breaks Mysterio’s helmet with a kick
• Knocks Finesse out with two punches to the back of the head
• [KH] Kicks Alexei in the chin mid-leap
• Hurts Spidey with a kick to the face
• Hospitalized the Shocker

Striking with Weapons

• Floors a man with a suitcase
• Clubs Captain America with a fire extinguisher, flooring him for several seconds
• [KH] Smashes through a ceiling and dives at Alexei
• [KH] Impales a man with a spear, then rams him into a wall hard enough to crack it
• Beats a man unconscious with a pistol

Grip

• Crushes one of Spidey’s tracers in his grip
• Crushes a picture frame
• Crushes a glass in his grip

Other

• While carrying Betty Ross over his shoulder with one hand, the Chameleon uses the other to smack Major Glenn Talbot
• [KH] Holds a wolf away from him
• Carries and fires this absurdly large gun

Durability
Scaling with Spider-Man

• Gets up after a glancing blow from Spider-Man
• Takes a backhand from Spider-Man
• Stays barely conscious after Spider-Man punches him into what looks like a concrete wall hard enough to break it
• Takes two punches from an angry Spider-Man
• While emulating Spider-Man and clinging to a wall with suction cups, he takes a punch from the real Spider-Man but stays clinging and makes an escape
• Spider-Man throws Chameleon head-first into a wall, then smacks him three times, breaking his mask. Despite this, the Chameleon stays conscious and manages to run off.
• Gets kicked in the head by Spider-Man (dressed as Deadpool) but quickly recovers and puts Spidey in a headlock
• Takes a sucker punch from Spider-Man in the Spider-Armor MK III
• [Limit] One casual punch from the Superior Spider-Man knocks Dmitri out

Scaling to Others

• Gets tackled by the Hulk, who was shrunk down to a few inches at the time
• Takes three heavy blows from Daredevil before falling into unconsciousness
• Takes a backhand punch from Kraven
• He gets up after Captain America throws his shield into his back
• Stays conscious after Deadpool punches him out a window
• Takes a punch from Spidey and an elbow from Deadpool
• Gets punched by Whirlwind
• Gets beat on by Teresa Parker

Blunt Force

• Spider-Man punches Vulture, sending the villain flying into Chameleon
• Gets thrown many feet into the air, then falls back-first onto stone
• He jumps off the Brooklyn Bridge and lands in the water below
• [KH, Limit] He’s KO’ed by a woman with a wooden chair
• While disguised as Spider-Man, he gets grabbed and swung around a room by tentacles, at one point getting his head slammed through a concrete wall with no ill effects

Gunfire

• He’s not noticeably harmed after a cop shoots him in the shoulder
• Stays standing after being shot in the thigh
• Twenty minutes after being shot in the shoulder, he’s not noticeably harmed

Vehicle Crashes

• Crashes his car into the Hulk
• Crawls from a crashed HYDRA aircraft
• Unharmed after crashing his truck into a wall
• While piloting a giant Galactus robot, a helicarrier crashes into the robot’s head and the Chameleon’s control room. He survives the crash relatively unharmed.

Other

• He survives after being poisoned and being left in a burning bar by the Punisher
• When Captain America breaks one of Chameleon’s stun guns, the resulting blast melts his rubber face mask, burning him
• He eats a full plate of ambien-laced cookies baked by Aunt May
• Spider-Man webs up a big gun that the Chameleon was using, causing it to blow up in his face. Dmitri gets up right after.

Agility

• Dodges some charges from Hammerhead, first with a sidestep, then by flipping over the mobster
• [KH] Dodges a tackle attempt from Alexei Kravinoff
• He lands hits on Spider-Man pretty easily once the hero loses his spider-sense

Skill

Impersonation
General

• When posing as someone, the Chameleon copies their gait and posture
• When emulating J. Jonah Jameson, not only does the Chameleon copy his personality, mannerisms and body language, but he copies Jonah’s writing style so he can turn in editorials at the Daily Bugle
• [Limit] In 2009, he took the form of Barack Obama and attempted to get sworn in as the POTUS. However, Spider-Man asked the fake and the real Obama a question that only the real Obama would know the answer to, outing the Chameleon as an imposter.
• Mimics Tigra perfectly, replicating her movements, voice and microexpressions
• When posing as a zombie Ezekiel Sims, Chameleon does something to make himself smell like a long-dead corpse

Voices

• Skilled in vocal emulation
• He perfectly emulates voices over the course of minutes after listening to audio recordings or the voices of his hostages
• While posing as the Paris police director, he fools a voice recognition system designed by Henry Pym, allowing him access into an Avengers headquarters
• Can emulate mechanized voices, like Doc Ock’s from when he was a cyborg

Limits

• Betty Ross sees through Dmitri’s Bruce Banner disguise thanks to her female intuition
• Daredevil sees through the Chameleon’s disguises because he can hear Dmitri’s distinct heartbeat
• Spider-Man’s Spider-Armor MK III has a Daredevil-inspired feature built in to the helmet that allows Peter to track Chameleon’s specific heartbeat. This allows him to see through the villain’s disguises.

Combat

• [KH] Fights evenly with Alexei Kravinoff before restraining him with a rope
• Off-panel, he killed a SHIELD agent and a doctor with a pen
• Shanks Superior Spider-Man in the neck with a pen
• While disguised as Spider-Man, he brawls hand-to-hand with Deadpool
• [Limit] Lost a fight to Mary Jane Watson with a baseball bat
• [KH] Slashes two mens’ throats with a single swipe of a spoon

Other

• [KH] Performs a handstand on a tree stump
• Using Klawe’s sound cannon, he blasts MODOK’s psionic blaster, disabling the head’s main weapon
• Leaps from a second story and lands on an awning to break his fall
• Jumps from the back of an aircraft onto the hood of a pursuing flying car
• Nick Fury boots Dmitri off of a flying car, but the villain manages to grab a ladder on a nearby aircraft
• Cracks a locked vault door, possibly using a stethoscope
• Pilots a giant LMD modeled to look like Galactus
• (Poorly) pilots the Iron Man Model 4 before being dropped by an alternate-universe Ghost Rider

Disguises

Realistic Masks

• Originally, the Chameleon employed realistic masks and hairpieces to disguise himself as individuals. He kept these pieces in a multi-pocketed vest, allowing him to alter his appearance on the fly
• After getting one quick glance at Thunderbolt Ross, the Chameleon is able to make a perfect mask of the general’s face in a matter of minutes
• When the Hulk is tearing the Chameleon’s car apart, he quickly changes into the guise of Rick Jones to calm the Hulk, then manipulate him into breaking a friend out of prison
• At one point, he used a gun that squirts fast-drying fluid, which kills victims via suffocation and leaves the Chameleon with a perfect mask of their face
• He once wore four masks layered on top of his plain, white one

Malleable Flesh

• He gets a procedure done to his body that makes his flesh completely malleable, changing in response to electrical stimuli. He also had a specially designed costume that reacted the same way to stimuli. The final piece was a control system built into a belt that could memorize and store any face that the Chameleon encountered. All of these pieces allowed the Chameleon to completely copy someone’s appearance and replicate it through thought alone.
• This exact method of changing his face depends on the comic's art style
  • Most often, the change just occurs instantly between panels
  • It can happens in a flash of light
  • Dmitri's features can melt and morph before reforming into a new face
  • The features can “slide across Chameleon’s head horizontally
• After looking at a photograph of a man, the Chameleon completely embodies him in moments
• When begging for his life, he rapidly switches between a dozen different faces
• When he’s knocked unconscious, his face relaxes and goes back to how it normally looks
• Once made a game out of pretending to be a civilian in need, then attacking Spider-Man when the hero helps him
• [Limit] One time, a very serious Spider-Man shocked and frightened the Chameleon so badly that he let his disguise drop

Other Methods

• Uses convincing costumes when posing as superheroes or supervillains
• Disguises himself as a Statue of Liberty street performer
• Some kind of hidden device emits mist, allowing the Chameleon to change masks and outfits
• Carries a canister of chemical gas that instantly changes the color of his clothing
• Later on, he wears a suit that allows him to instantly change his facial appearance and clothing
  • After confronting Spidey in public and taking a blow from the wall-crawler, the Chameleon assumes the form of a defenseless, old lady to turn the public against the hero
• A high-tech costume can resemble any article of clothing that the Chameleon can think of
• When appearing as someone much bigger than he is, like the Kingpin, the Chameleon uses an inflatable suit
• Poses as a hostage, then uses a hologram projector to make it look like Doc Ock is holding him off a roof
• When working for the Superior Spider-Man’s team of “reformed” villains, the Superior Six, Chameleon used hologram tech to aid in his disguises. This let him appear as Loki, with his massive horns and Asgardian outfit being formed with the tech. It otherwise works more or less like his powers did.
• Most recently, the Chameleon requires the use of a serum to be able to change his features at will
  • As soon as the Chameleon touches someone, he’s able to look exactly like that person. This can also make the other person temporarily swap forms with the Chameleon (or other users of the serum).

Weapons

Non-Lethal
Guns

• Uses a dart gun that instantly knocks a man out with a shot to the shoulder
• Uses a chemical gas gun to instantly knock out Captain America, keeping him out for a few minutes
• A dart gun that leaves victims unconscious and foaming from the mouth
• A stun gun

Injectables

• A syringe full of sedative chemicals that KOs Spider-Man and makes Deadpool woozy for a minute until he heals
• A syringe hidden in a prop torch puts Spider-Man to sleep immediately
• He injects Spider-Man with a poisonous chemical. It brings on extreme nausea and vertigo, then later knocks Spider-Man out for two days straight.

Other

• Snuck into Captain Stacy’s room and administered a few drops of sedatives to Stacy’s decanter. This kept him unconscious all day, allowing the Chameleon to assume his identity and steal priceless pieces of art.
• An aerosol can of sedatives
• One time, he coated his clothing in an odorless sedative chemical. When Spider-Man grabs him by his jacket, the hero falls unconscious in a matter of seconds.
• Gas grenades
• He uses some kind of electric weapon on a shallow body of water, shocking Spider-Man, Husk and Deadpool into unconsciousness

Lethal
Guns

• Normal guns like rifles, a shotgun and a handgun
• A silenced handgun
• A revolver
• A double-barreled shotgun
• He wields a one-handed launcher that carries a variety of capsules, including cyanide gas canisters and concussive explosives
• An absurdly large, Liefeld-esque gun that blows up a computer station
• A energy-based handgun with explosive firepower, used to blast a large hole through Deadpool’s torso and later turn a concrete wall into rubble

Injectables

• A poison ring that would’ve injected JJJ with a lethal dose during a handshake
• [KH] Shoots Spider-Man with a poison dart that would’ve killed him in ten minutes if he didn’t take the antidote

Other

• Usually carries a dagger or other kind of blade
• A grenade
• A small, box-shaped time bomb
• He once used a Man-Thing parasite to protect himself from gunfire and form combat applicable branch-like tentacles

Other Equipment

Field Gear

• Smoke pellets
• When posing as Spider-Man, he used a web-gun to emulate the hero’s web-shooters, although the webbing wasn’t as strong as Spider-Man’s
• While posing as Spider-Man, the Chameleon utilizes suction cup-covered gloves and a web gun to replicate Spidey’s wall-crawling and web-slinging
• A tracking device
• Nose filters protect him from a cloud of cyanide gas
• A jetpack with enough fuel to fly for nearly a full hour
• Typically restrains victims with rope and gags

Base Installations

• Uses a modified radio to send a message across New York that only Spider-Man could hear
• Uses a machine to swap memories with Captain America
• One lair boasts a chair that can be lowered into a pit of acid, used to destroy bodies
• Rigs his lairs to explode if they’re compromised
• He detonates explosives in one of his hideouts that releases napalm-like flames

Other

• He’s helped to design Life Model Decoys that look exactly like Richard and Mary Parker with the goal of investigating Peter Parker and finding out about Spider-Man’s identity. While the false Mary developed a conscience and defied her programming, the false Richard was outfitted with a combat form.
• He holds a gun to the head of a simulacra of Mary Jane. When Spidey determines it’s a fake instead of his real wife, it poofs into smoke.
• Robots that drive his escape vehicles

Miscellaneous

• After coming across a cave full of assorted scrap mechanics, Chameleon builds a missile from the pieces. He later says he “found” the missile, so who knows. At any rate, the missile is strong enough to KO the Hulk when they collide.
• One time, he inexplicably escaped from Spider-Man’s grasp and disappeared from the room
• He kidnaps Spider-Man and imprisons him in Ravencroft Asylum. He then unmasks the hero, puts a realistic mask and straightjacket on him and attempts to gaslight Peter, through the use of psychoactive drugs and fabricated evidence, into believing he’s another man named Herbert Smith. This ruse does convince Peter for a good while until he later remembers his life with Mary Jane.
• He implies that he might be able to disguise his psyche from the telepathic X-Men member, No-Girl, although the claim is not actually proven
• Off-panel, he killed a man, cut off his face and used it for a temporary mask

Monica Rappaccini: I apologize for the delay in initial payment, but we first had to verify your identity. A.I.M.’s intel had been that the Chameleon was dead- or in an insane asylum.
Chameleon: Yes, well. That would be exactly what I wanted you to think. Faded into the background, imperceptible… that’s where a Chameleon is most comfortable… and where I shall now return.

As far back as I can remember, I had always been passionate about the great outdoors. My love for the wilderness began when I joined the scouts, exploring the diverse landscapes of Southern California, Nevada, Arizona, and Utah. I was never a huge fan of the dry, barren landscapes, but camping provided a much-needed escape from the monotony of Orange County suburbia.
The first time I visited the Pacific Northwest, I was enchanted. The scenery was breathtaking—majestic mountains, lush fields, and meandering rivers. It was clear that anyone who praised the desert's beauty had never laid eyes on the Cascades. Seeing grass and wildflowers growing without irrigation was practically a revelation.
When I was old enough, I moved to Washington state, immersing myself in nature every weekend. My adventures took me hiking through dense forests, camping by serene lakes, and occasionally taking mushrooms under peaceful waterfalls.
I joined several online forums dedicated to outdoor enthusiasts. One community that particularly fascinated me was the Northwest Tomb Raiders. This group of history buffs and thrill-seekers was dedicated to uncovering artifacts, whether Native American relics or treasures hidden in modern ruins. Many members were collectors, fencing their finds to museums and archaeologists, which made it a rather profitable side gig, should you be lucky enough.
In the fall of 2009, an intriguing post appeared on the forum. A user named Lokk claimed to have discovered a cache of artifacts with Scandinavian origins. He couldn't carry everything back due to the treacherous terrain and his age, so he shared the coordinates, hoping someone else could retrieve the items. I scrolled down to see a few posts of people planning to loot it in the Spring, when the paths have reopened. One user, Patagooner, planned on going as early as possible.
Excited by the prospect, I gathered my two friends, Carl and Noah, for the expedition. They weren't as enthusiastic about camping as I was, but after I told them how much a single arrowhead goes for on the black market, they were on board. It was the start of winter now, which had its advantages and disadvantages. On the plus side, the rangers would have a harder time spotting us. On the downside, the harsh conditions posed a serious challenge for two inexperienced hikers.
I must’ve blown about four grand at REI on gear for them, justifying it with the knowledge of how much more I would make with two extra packs. That is of course assuming there really were as many artifacts as Lokk had said, and Patagooner hadn’t beaten me there.
The journey began like any other. We met in the pre-dawn darkness and went over our supplies, ensuring we had everything we needed. By mid-morning, we were on our way, my pickup truck winding up the mountain paths. The roads of Olympic National Park were the epitome of the raw, untamed beauty of the Pacific Northwest.
They snake through ancient forests, where towering Douglas firs and Western hemlocks create a verdant canopy overhead. Mist clings to the trees, giving the landscape an ethereal quality. Occasionally, the forest would open up to reveal breathtaking vistas of snow-capped peaks and deep, shadowy valleys.
As we climbed higher, the landscape grew increasingly desolate. The dense forest thinned out, replaced by rugged terrain and jagged rock formations. The air grew colder, and the first flurries of snow began to fall, dusting the ground in a thin, white layer. The road became narrower and more treacherous, winding precariously along the edge of steep cliffs.
Finally, a road closure blockade signaled the end of our journey in the truck. We unloaded three dirt bikes—one mine, two rentals—and continued up the trail. The bikes roared to life, carrying us several more miles into the wilderness. The trail twisted and turned, cutting through dense underbrush and over fallen logs. The snow began to fall more heavily, blanketing the forest floor and muffling the sound of our engines. The world around us grew quieter, more isolated.
Eventually, the snow became too deep to traverse by bike. We dismounted and prepared to continue on foot. The silence of the forest was profound, broken only by the occasional rustle of branches in the wind. I checked my modern GPS, its screen displaying the coordinates and a relief map of our destination.
The cold air bit into our cheeks as we trudged through the snow-laden forest. The silence was almost oppressive, broken only by the crunch of our footsteps and the occasional call of distant wildlife. The GPS indicated we were close to our destination, but the dense underbrush and uneven terrain made progress slow.
Suddenly, Carl's excited whisper cut through the stillness. "Hey, look at that!"
He pointed to a small, furry creature ambling through the trees. It took a moment to realize what it was—a bear cub, innocently exploring its surroundings.
My heart sank. "Carl, get back," I hissed, my voice low but urgent. "Where there's a cub, there's a..."
Before I could finish, a massive shape exploded from the trees. The mother bear, easily three times the size of the cub, charged at Carl with a ferocity. She was a blur of dark fur and powerful muscles, her roar echoing through the forest.
"Run!" I yelled, but it was too late. The bear was upon Carl, swiping at him with her massive paws. He screamed as he fell to the ground, the bear towering over him. Desperation and adrenaline surged through me. I grabbed the nearest heavy branch and swung it at the bear, hoping to distract her.
Noah joined in, shouting and waving his arms. We had to be careful; one wrong move and she would turn on us. The bear snarled, turning her attention away from Carl for just a moment. It was enough for him to scramble backwards, clutching his bleeding arm.
"We have to get him out of here," I shouted to Noah, who nodded, fear etched on his face. The bear, still enraged, seemed torn between attacking us and protecting her cub.
Using the brief respite, we hauled Carl to his feet. His face was white, and he was clearly in shock. Blood soaked his sleeve, dripping onto the snow. "There's a ranger station about two miles from here," I said, my voice shaking. "We need to get him there. Now."
We half-carried, half-dragged Carl through the forest, every shadow and sound heightening our paranoia.
Finally, after what felt like forever, the small, wooden structure of the ranger station came into view. We had been avoiding the rangers to keep our expedition secret, but now it was our only hope.
Pounding on the door, I prayed for a quick response. The door creaked open, and a weathered face appeared. "What happened?" the ranger demanded, taking in the sight of Carl's bloodied form.
"Bear attack," I gasped. "We need help."
The ranger's expression shifted from suspicion to urgency. "Get him inside. We've got a first aid kit and a radio."
As we eased Carl onto a makeshift bed, the ranger inspected his wounds. "You're lucky," he said after a moment. "The cuts are deep, but they missed any major arteries. He'll need stitches, but we can handle that here. No need for an airlift."
The ranger's face darkened as he turned to me. "What the hell are you boys doing out here?”
I hesitated, "We... we were just exploring."
The ranger's eyes narrowed, his anger palpable. "Exploring? In a restricted area? In the middle of winter? Are you out of your minds?"
He worked quickly and efficiently, cleaning and stitching Carl's wounds. Carl winced but stayed silent, his eyes closed in pain.
"Do you have any idea how dangerous it is out here?" the ranger continued, his voice rising. "The storm, the wildlife... This area is off-limits for a reason! You should have known better." he said, pushing a finger into my chest.
"We'll stay here for the night," he continued, "The storm's getting worse, and it's too dangerous to move him now. We'll reassess in the morning. And count yourself lucky I don't arrest your asses."
Night fell quickly, the storm outside growing more ferocious with each passing minute. The howling wind battered the small ranger station, and the walls creaked under the pressure. We huddled in the main room, the tension thick in the air.
The ranger looked at us sternly. "I need to check the perimeter and make sure everything is secure. There are things out there you don’t want to encounter, especially in this storm."
"Things? What do you mean?" Noah asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
The ranger's expression hardened. "Just stay put. No matter what you see or hear, do not leave this cabin. Understood?"
We nodded, the seriousness in his tone leaving no room for argument. "We'll stay put," I said, trying to sound more confident than I felt.
The ranger grabbed his coat and shotgun. "I'll be back in an hour. Do not leave this cabin." With that, he opened the door and stepped into the raging storm, disappearing into the darkness.
As soon as the door closed, I turned to Noah. "We need to go. Now."
Noah's eyes widened. "Are you crazy? He said to stay put."
"If we wait until morning, we'll be escorted out of here and lose our chance. This might be our only opportunity to find those artifacts."
Noah hesitated with uncertainty "But... what about Carl?"
"He'll be fine here. The ranger can take care of him. We have to do this now."
Reluctantly, Noah nodded. "Alright. Let's take what we can and go."
We quickly looted extra gear from the cabin. I checked the GPS one last time before we slipped out into the storm, the cold wind battering us.
The snow fell heavily, obscuring our vision as we slogged through the forest. The ranger was nowhere in sight as we made our way towards the our destination, each step filled with trepidatious excitement.
The storm began to die down as we approached the coordinates. We stepped into a clearing where the undisturbed snow lay like a pristine white blanket. In the center stood an ancient, weathered stone altar, encircled by intricate wooden carvings, delicate metalwork, and beautifully crafted statues. The sight was breathtaking, a treasure trove, a veritable museum of paganism.
Noah and I exchanged glances, our eyes wide with amazement. "Do you see this?" I whispered, barely able to contain my excitement.
"We're going to be rich," Noah replied, his voice trembling with awe. "These must be worth a fortune!"
We approached cautiously, as if the vision before us might disappear. The craftsmanship was stunning. I reached out to touch a carved wooden idol, marveling at the detail. "This is incredible," I said, my voice barely audible.
We began to load our packs with as many artifacts as we could carry, each one more exquisite than the last. It was beyond our wildest dreams. We were so engrossed in our task that we didn't notice the small figure watching us from the ridge.
It wasn't until I turned to leave that I saw her. A young girl, maybe eight years old, stood there, her blue eyes wide with curiosity. She was dressed in simple, rustic clothing, her blonde straight hair blowing gently in the wind. For a moment, we just stared at each other.
"Noah," I whispered urgently, nudging him. "Look."
He turned, his eyes following my gaze. "What the...?" he muttered, his voice trailing off.
The girl took a tentative step forward, her eyes fixed on the items in our hands. There was no fear in her gaze, only a quiet intensity that made my skin crawl.
"Who are you?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.
She tilted her head slightly. "My name is Sigyn."
"What are you doing out here, Sigyn?" Noah asked, his voice shaky.
"I live here,"
"You live here?" I echoed, incredulous. "Is there anyone else around?"
"Yes," she whispered.
"Where?" Noah demanded, looking around nervously.
"Everywhere," she said with a giggle.
The way she said it, so matter-of-factly, bothered me deeply. Noah and I exchanged a look, both of us trying to figure out what to do next.
"We can't take her back to the ranger," Noah started, "We'll lose everything."
I nodded, my mind racing. "Sigyn," I said slowly, "we need to know who else is here. Can you help us?"
She looked at me with her piercing blue eyes, then said, "I'm sorry."
"For what?" Noah asked.
"For what's going to happen to you," she replied, her voice tinged with sadness.
"You need to tell us what's going on," Noah said, grabbing her arm roughly. "Why are you out here alone?"
She looked up at him, unperturbed. "I am not alone," she said softly.
Before we could press her further, a loud, guttural mooing sound echoed through the clearing. We turned towards the direction the girl had come from, and there, emerging from the shadows, was the silhouette of an elk. As it approached, my stomach dropped. Its body was a grotesque amalgamation of life and decay. Its skull was fully exposed, the eye sockets dark and empty. Large patches of its ribs were visible, the flesh around them rotted away.
The elk's movements were slow and deliberate, its head swaying as if in a trance. It walked directly towards us, its hollow eyes fixed on Sigyn. The closer it got, the more the stench of death filled the air—a nauseating mix of decay and earth. I fought the urge to retch.
Sigyn stood up, her expression calm. The monster sniffed her gently, its nostrils flaring. Without a word, she climbed onto its back, mounting it like a horse. It was a surreal and horrifying scene ripped straight from a nightmare.
As she settled onto the elk, she looked back at us, "A thief in the night shall reap what he sows," she said, her voice carrying an otherworldly echo. "Beware the price of stolen dreams."
With that, the beast turned and began to walk away, Sigyn riding it into the shadows of the forest. We stood there, frozen in place. The realization that we were in far over our heads began to sink in. This started to feel like a trap.
We need to get out of here," My voice trembling. "Now."
We turned to leave, our packs heavy with the pilfered goods. But as we took our first steps, the forest around us seemed to come alive. Shadows moved among the trees, and whispers floated on the wind. I quickened my pace, glancing nervously over my shoulder.
"Did you hear that?" Noah asked sharply,
"Just keep moving," I commanded.
A figure emerged from the shadows, blocking our path. It was a man, tall and gaunt, his eyes burning with an intense light. "Where do you think you're going?" he asked, his voice cold and menacing.
"We're leaving," I stammered. "We didn't mean any harm."
The man smirked, and with a swift motion, he raised his hand. More figures appeared, closing in on us from all sides. We were surrounded.
"Run!" I shouted, shoving Noah forward.
We sprinted through the forest, branches whipping at our faces and legs. The figures pursued us, their footsteps silent and relentless.
Noah stumbled and fell, his pack spilling open. Statues scattered across the ground, glinting in the moonlight. "Help!" he cried, scrambling to gather the items.
"Leave them!" I shouted, pulling him to his feet. "We have to keep moving!"
But it was too late, their hands seizing us. I struggled, kicking and thrashing, but their grips were too strong. They forced us to the ground, binding our hands with rough, coarse ropes.
"Please," I begged, "Don't hurt us."
The man who had first appeared stepped forward, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "A thief in the night," he mocked.
They dragged us through the forest, the trees closing in around us like a cage. We were at their mercy.
In the distance, I could see the elk standing at the edge of the clearing, Sigyn still astride its back. Her eyes met mine, and for a moment, I thought I saw a flicker of pity. But then they turned away, disappearing into the shadows once more.
We were dragged into the heart of the forest, our struggles futile against the unyielding grip of our captors. As we broke through the treeline, a massive bonfire came into view, its flames licking the night sky. Shadows danced around the clearing, cast by the flickering light. A woman stood at the forefront, her presence commanding.
Her eyes were milk white, devoid of pupils, and her long, flowing white hair cascaded down her back. She was completely naked, her skin pale and marked with intricate symbols. Atop her head, she wore an elk skull, its antlers extending like eerie, skeletal fingers. She beat a drum emblazoned with more of the same cryptic symbols, each thud resonating deep within my chest.
Around the fire, about two dozen people stood, all drinking from crude, horned cups. Their faces were solemn, eyes fixed on the woman as she led them in a haunting chant. The atmosphere was thick with a mix of reverence and intoxication.
We were forced to our knees before the woman, who paused her drumming to look down at us. Her gaze was haunting, as if she could see into the very depths of our souls.
"Who are you?" Noah demanded, his voice trembling.
The woman ignored him, raising her arms to the sky. The chanting grew louder, the rhythm of the drum faster and more frenzied. The air around us seemed to vibrate with energy, the flames of the bonfire growing higher and more intense.
I glanced at Noah, fear mirrored in his eyes. The woman began to speak, her voice low and melodic, but filled with power, in a language I couldn't understand. Suddenly, she stopped, lowering her arms. The chanting ceased, and an silence fell over the clearing. She looked directly at me, her white eyes unblinking.
En tjuv i natten skördar vad han sår, akta dig för drömmar som du stjäl och får.
Hans skratt bevakar lundens gömda stig, där skuggor sveper över skogens liv.
För varje stulet andetag och svek, måste en tjuv möta sitt smärtsamma ödelek.
Tricksterns vilja, vår ande här, så i hans nåd, våra liv bär.
I was terrified and confused. She started again, softer, in a way I could understand.
A thief in the night shall reap what he sows, beware the price of stolen dreams.
His laughter guards our hidden groves, where shadows cloak the forest's seams.
For every stolen breath and lie, a thief must meet his painful end.
The tricksters will, our spirits tie, so in his grace, our lives suspend.
The crowd surged forward, grabbing Noah first. He screamed, his terror echoing through the trees as they pulled him towards a makeshift altar beside the bonfire. The woman chanted louder, her voice rising in a hypnotic rhythm as they began their gruesome work.
They stripped him of his shirt and bound his arms to a wooden frame. I tried to move, to help him, but the grip on my shoulders tightened, pinning me to the ground.
The woman approached Noah, holding a knife with a blade that gleamed in the firelight. She started to slice into his back, her movements deliberate and unhurried. Noah's screams pierced the night as she methodically carved the shape of wings into his flesh.
Blood poured from the wounds, soaking the ground beneath him. The crowd's chant grew louder, almost drowning out his cries. I watched in horror as the woman reached into the incisions, breaking the ribs and pulling them outward, creating a parody of wings.
Noah's agony was unbearable to witness. His screams turned to whimpers, his body convulsing in pain. The woman didn't stop until the work was complete, his lungs exposed and hanging grotesquely from his back.
They lifted Noah's broken body and placed him over the fire. The smell of burning flesh filled the air, making me gag. His life ebbed away as the flames consumed him, the once vibrant light in his eyes fading to nothing.
The woman turned to me, her expression devoid of mercy. "You will meet the same fate," she said, "He demands it."
The smell of burning flesh and the sight of his broken body over the fire was seared into my mind. Despair settled over me as I closed my eyes.
A deafening blast shattered the night. My eyes flew open to see the shaman stumbling backward, a gaping wound in her chest. She collapsed to the ground, her white eyes staring lifelessly into the void.
The villagers turned in shock as another shot rang out, this time hitting one of the men holding me. I twisted free from their grasp and saw the park ranger standing at the edge of the clearing, a pump-action shotgun in his hands. He fired again, the sound echoing through the forest, before one of them tackled him to the ground.
"Run!" he shouted, his voice raw and desperate. "Get the hell out of here!"
I didn't need to be told twice. I sprinted into the darkness, the chaos of the clearing fading behind me. Branches whipped at my face, and the snow underfoot made every step a struggle. I could hear the sounds of fighting and gunshots, but I forced myself to keep moving.
The cold air burned in my lungs, but adrenaline pushed me forward. I didn't stop until I reached the station, my legs threatening to give out from under me. I burst through the door and slammed it behind me.
Inside, Carl lay where we had left him, his face pale and twisted in pain. I stumbled to the radio, my hands trembling as I fumbled with the controls.
"Mayday, mayday!" I yelled into the microphone. "This is an emergency! We need help! Please, someone, come quickly!"
Static filled the room, punctuated by my ragged breaths. I repeated the call, my voice growing more frantic with each passing second. Finally, a voice crackled through the speaker. "This is Ranger Station Bravo. What's your location? Over."
I could barely form the words. "Olympic National Park! The ranger station near mount Christie! We're under attack! Please, send help!"
"Copy that. Help is on the way. Stay put and stay safe. Over."
I collapsed to the floor, my body trembling with exhaustion and fear. Carl moaned softly, his eyes fluttering open. "What… What happened? Where's Noah?”
Tears streamed down my face and I found myself choked up. “He’s gone, man. Help is coming.”
The minutes stretched into an eternity as we waited. The wind howled around the station, and every creak and groan of the structure set my nerves on edge. I couldn't shake the feeling that we were being watched, that the forest itself was closing in on us.
The radio crackled again, this time with a different voice. "Helicopter en route, ETA fifteen minutes. Prepare for extraction."
I glanced at Carl, his eyes filled with confusion. "Hang on. We're getting out of here."
As the minutes ticked by, I couldn't help but think about the ranger. He had saved my life, but he hadn't made it back. My mind conjured up images of what might have happened to him, the cultists overwhelming him in the darkness. A sense of guilt gnawed at me, knowing he had sacrificed himself for us.
The sound of rotors cut through the night, growing louder as the helicopter approached. I ran to the window and saw its searchlight piercing the treetops, scanning for the station.
I helped Carl to his feet, supporting his weight as we made our way to the hatch. The helicopter hovered above, lowering a rescue basket. The wind from the rotors whipped the snow into a frenzy, but I didn't care. Salvation was finally here.
We secured Carl in the basket first, and I watched as he was hoisted up, disappearing into the safety of the helicopter. My turn was next. I realized that I was now alone and exposed. Fear coursing through me as I scanned around the edge of the forest, expecting to be grabbed and taken seconds before my rescue. But the moment never came. As I gripped the rope, I took one last look at the forest below. The flames of the bonfire still flickered in the distance.
I was lifted into the air, the ground falling away beneath me. The helicopter's crew pulled me inside, and I collapsed onto the floor still holding onto my pack, my body finally giving in to exhaustion. The doors closed, and the helicopter banked away, leaving the horrors of the park behind.
Weeks had passed since the harrowing events, but the memories clung to me like the bitter cold. I had returned to civilization, seeking solace in the familiar chaos of the city. I found a wealthy collector through a network of contacts. The artifacts fetched a price tenfold the cost of gear. The money was substantial, but as I held the cash, it felt like a hollow victory.
Noah's absence weighed heavily on me. His disappearance was chalked up as a missing persons case, and despite my best efforts to explain what had happened, no one believed me. The authorities conducted a search of the area, but they found no trace of the cult, the artifacts, or the clearing. It was as if the forest had swallowed up all the evidence.
I returned to the site where we had parked the truck. The dirt bikes were gone, stolen by opportunistic thieves, but the truck remained. I drove back in silence, the road winding through the dense forest. For a moment, I thought I saw the girl watching me from atop a ridge until I realized it was just paranoia. I stepped on the gas a little harder.
Back home, I checked the Tomb Raiders forum again. The post that had led us into the forest was gone, deleted without a trace. I messaged the mods, but apparently, they don’t keep records to maintain confidentiality. I wrote about our experience, detailing every terrifying moment, but the responses were skeptical at best. Most dismissed it as a work of fiction or a desperate cry for attention.
Time passed, and I tried to return to a semblance of normalcy. Yet, the wilderness called to me stronger than ever. It was my sanctuary, the only place where I could find peace amidst the turmoil. I spent more and more time outdoors than ever before, but now it always felt like I was just running from something.
Determined to prove what had happened, I returned to the forest with a camera and recording equipment. This time, I documented every step, capturing footage of the trees, the snow, and the eerie silence that hung in the air. I retraced our path, hoping to find the clearing again. But each night, as I reviewed the footage, something strange would happen. The files would be corrupted or entire segments missing.
I pressed on. I found the site where Noah had fallen, the ground still bearing faint traces of what had happened. I set up the camera and began to speak, recounting the events in detail. As I spoke, a cold wind swept through the clearing, and the camera's screen flickered. I finished my account and turned to check the recording, only to find the file corrupted once again, the footage replaced by static and a faint, mocking laughter.
I returned home, defeated and exhausted. My attempts to share what I had experienced were met with disbelief and ridicule. The files I managed to save were corrupted beyond recognition. It was as if the forest itself was conspiring against me.
Almost exactly one year later, as I browsed the forums, a new post caught my eye. It was cryptic, eerily similar to the one that had led us into the nightmare. It spoke of another trove of artifacts, hidden deep within the wilderness, waiting to be claimed.
The post was signed with a new name: Skygge. Different handle, same style. Another trap. They had taken so much from me, left scars that would never heal. I opened my drawer, my fingers brushing over the cold metal of my weapons. This was the moment I had been waiting for. This time, I'll be ready.
The forest’s secrets won't remain hidden forever.