Instructions for beaded spiral rope

Lesson Plans
First Prev
Neya had curled up at his side and gone back to sleep fairly quickly. No such luck for Alex. He had gotten nearly seven hours of what turned out to be restful sleep and was now wide awake with entirely too much to think about.
He really didn’t want to think about any of it just yet. Alex was perfectly aware that he really should be getting his feelings in order, but as far he was concerned it was way down the list of things he wanted to be doing right now. More sleep was at the top, but he already knew that was a nonstarter.
What he needed was a break.
Everything had been happening at an absurd pace since he had come aboard. Some of it was intentional - Eleya had clearly intended to get him to agree to ‘protection’ so he would willingly become part of her plans, pending he passed her test. Carbon’s fury in response, the assassination attempt, finding out what Neya actually was, the incident that was awfully damn close to being an assassination attempt...
His legs stretched involuntarily, still aching but at a more manageable level. He’d give Neya that - she knew her way around muscles.
Alex sighed and threw the covers back, turned the lights on at ten percent. Sitting in the dim light, his mind was restless, eager to jump from one thing to the next. All he wanted to do was fly his little ships - he’d settle for any size ship at this point - and date Carbon. Even with all the Tsla’o weirdness, even dragging Neya and her infatuation along, he supposed, would be all right. The resignation turned to annoyance as he stood and remembered that everything had been put away. Everything. Not a single long strip of the daman remained out, nor was his bag anywhere to be found. He didn’t know what had happened to it.
Alex cast a glance back at Neya before he started rummaging. She was sprawled out with mouth agape, snoring quietly. Her ears aimed in different directions, twitching and swiveling like she was trying to listen to something that kept moving, though they never pointed towards him. Still kind of adorable, and very much asleep.
Top drawer on the dresser was sundries. That bag with the tin of powder and combs, the jar of salve, various grooming implements, the sword Carbon had almost killed her aunt with. The ones below it were largely filled with mostly unidentifiable Tsla’o clothes. Even if he thought he could pull off the shortest shorts in existence, he was sure they were too small.
“Oh, come on.” He muttered to himself as he found the bottom drawer was just accessories he didn’t even recognize.
Back to the bed. Wandering around naked was less daunting today than it had been just a day ago, which was good. Feeling more at home, despite everything. He crouched there by the foot and slid the drawer open as quietly as possible. “Jackpot. Maybe.” It was clearly his clothing, nobody else here was wearing t-shirts. A little more searching found the shorts he’d packed for sleeping in. Actual jackpot, nice.
Once again clothed, it was time for something to drink.
All the cupboards latched, which made sense on a spaceship. The detents holding the drawers closed were pretty significant as well. Two of the overhead cabinets were empty, which was a bit of a shock. Carbon’s worry about him having grown up poor and hungry stood out as strange with all these bare shelves. Though, they had not been expected - how much food did Neya need on hand when she was holding this place down on her own?
It let his mind wander onto the subject of how the Tsla’o handled food distribution, a welcome respite from the more personal matters that had been on hand.
The other two were dry goods in sealed containers or vacuum packed bags, some cleaning supplies, and a full setting of plates, bowls and cups for the four-seat table. Doing the dishes promptly after every meal, it seems. Alex plucked a cup from the tray it was resting on and decided to stick with tap water for the moment. Too early for coffee anyway - not that he expected to be able to find any onboard. Too early for tea, as well.
Next up, something to fill the time. The small stack of books that Neya had collected for him was sitting atop the headboard, next to the sex position manuals that Eleya had given him. They had a black cloth binding, the only markings on the outside being on the spine, labling them as Untranslateable One, Untranslatable Two, and Untranslatable Zeshen, now that he was looking at them with visual translation on.
Not a big surprise that they hadn’t included the title of their Kama Sutra in the language exchanges. That last one was a bit presumptuous, though. Eleya would know how Zeshen work, but to his knowledge Neya was still considering her options when it had been given to him. He grumbled, another thing that immediately struck him as suspicious. Eleya had seemed annoyed she hadn’t been notified of Neya’s acceptance of him, but that could have easily been a front. Zeshen were supposed to be outside of the Empress’ sphere of influence. That was how things had been. Not necessarily how they were now.
Or did she just know Neya well enough to predict that end? Family members were involved in the selection process. Would her station in life lend her more weight, and how would it be used? Was Neya chosen because she would be unwaveringly loyal - and loyal to who?
Alex missed never asking himself questions like this.
Curiosity got the better of him anyway and he slipped the little black book out from the bottom of the stack and flipped it open to find at least half of it was text. Dozens of pages. Translation filtered in and it turned out to be a series of essays about consent. Definitely going to come back around to this as a window into Tsla’o culture at the very least, but it was not exactly the thing he was looking to engage with right now.
He set it back on top of the stack and turned to the ones not tainted by Eleya’s hand. Several thick tomes on the bottom with titles like History of the First Age, Seasons of Schoen: A Historical View of the Heartlands, and 1100: Rise to the Second Age. They looked like college texts. Back in the sickbay he’d have probably loved any one of these. Even just thinking about cracking one open felt like work.
It turned out all the rest were textbooks as well, save for one well worn paperback novel that rested atop the pile. A lone red-furred Tsla’o male clad in more rugged looking pants and a plain brown vest, standing in a knee-high field of jade grasses, snow capped mountains in the background. Temptation of the Harvest Fields. Neya had said it was a semi-accurate historical fiction that included several Zeshen, right out of her own personal collection. Even had her name written on the inside of the cover. The more things change.
Fuck it, he’d read the romance novel. Historical fiction of any accuracy written by aliens was probably as close as he was getting to some actual escapism without poking around the electronics and hoping for the best. Or asking for help, again.
He turned from the stacks and the glint of black screens caught his attention. Speaking of electronics... One of those phones must be his. He picked up the one furthest from where Neya had been laying when she’d put her phone back, rewarded with a brief moment of blindness when the screen came on as his thumb hit a button on the bezel. Belonged to somebody named Alekese Sorenson, apparently. “I’ll be damned.” He was honestly surprised that Sorenson could be translated into written Tsla so smoothly, given how his first name got mangled.
He unlocked it, the circle with a thumbprint in it a pretty clear indication of what needed to be done. Alex returned to the kitchen, scrolling through the applications. Basic stuff, mostly. Mail, messaging, search functions, maps, calendar. He clicked his tongue, not a single game to be found. Sure enough, there was the group message from Carbon. He thought about replying as he eased into a chair, his back towards the little light over the stove.
Alex decided against it. She wanted some quiet time, she should get it. He was a grown up, he could deal with not having someone there with him at every moment. Plus he had no idea what these sounded like when they got a notification, or how to silence it. He might be annoyed with Neya right now, but not enough to be an asshole.
So that was how he spent the next hour, engrossed in what was - if he was being polite - a very tawdry novel. To its credit, the first few chapters actually went into running a farm with what seemed like realistic details that could at least pass for feeling historically accurate. Alex didn’t know anything about running a farm so it was all supposition, but the work aspects of such an endeavor was presented well.
This was not to say that the book forgot what it was. Even through a translator, the prose was floral and laden with what he assumed were euphemisms. Some of them were more obvious. Only one kind of field is getting plowed inside a barn, and the help that the main character had hired were making sure they had plowed every row.
Lots of paragraphs were taken up by describing the male lead - Aena - as he hefted tack for the Rakaro-pulled plow, muscles flexing like taut rope underneath his rich red fur that sparkled in the cold spring sun. That sort of thing. Despite all this physical prowess and stoic exterior, this particular pillar of the community really needed a family to run the farm. Despite that, he had never taken a spouse, or even a lover. Not exactly subtle.
Alex was unlikely to admit that his choice of book did manage to engross him enough to get him to stop reprocessing the last day. Not without a big list of caveats attached to that statement, at least. He was eager to find out what portion of this was actually historical, though. Particularly if the way that Aena was portrayed as an outlier for his running of the farm was accurate - this appeared to be uncommon at the time, but all the female relatives of his that might have taken that role had died tragically before the book started to set him up in this situation.
Across the room Neya stirred, stretching under the covers before sitting bolt upright with a panicked yelp.
“Y’all right?” He’d been affecting a cowboy-esqe voice for Aena in his head, which was likely completely wrong. It was still funny, and it slipped easily into his own speech patterns.
She panted, disoriented as her eyes cast around the room before landing on him, a soft sigh following. Neya grabbed her wireless and started fitting them on, starting to reply as she did. “I had thought everyone was gone. You have moved, but not as far as I had feared.”
“A-yup.” He flipped the page, the next chapter starting in a courtyard. Clearly not on the farm anymore. “Ah jus wasn’t tired after’n we spoke. Figured ah’d get started on all this here reading.”
“Why are you talking like that?” She smoothed her face out, more confused than anything before she spotted what was in his hands. “You are reading my book!”
He cleared his throat, putting aside his bad accent. “Yeah, the setting kind of reminds me of the ‘western’ genre. Slightly industrialized frontier sorta thing. I think that’s about to change, but time will tell.”
“That is about when it takes place, just as industrialization is beginning in the cities.” She stretched again, padding softly to the dresser that her and Carbon seemed to share. “Have you enjoyed it so far?”
“It’s uh...” He had, though probably not from the same point of view of the intended audience. “Not what I normally read, but I think it's an interesting look into your culture. I will need a little help hashing out what’s accurate and what isn’t at some point.”
That was taken well, Neya brightening up as she tucked a bunch of clothes under her arm. “I look forward to doing so. Would you like to use the shower first?”
“Nah, you go on ahead.” He made note of the page and set the book down. If she was up, it was time for some... tea. It would do.
The kettle was in the lower cabinets with the pots and pans, and he had it boiling in no time. The tea pot, on the other hand, was tucked away with the dishes. Everything in with the food was labeled clearly, and he had tea brewing before Neya was even out of the shower. Measurements were approximate, but it looked right from when Carbon had made tea yesterday.
He was, for a moment, proud of this accomplishment. Then the fact this was over a pot of tea caught up with him before he fought back that inner voice. This wasn’t Human tea, despite many similarities. This was his first time making an honest to goodness alien tea. The first pour looked right. Dark amber, as the few times he’d had it served.
It tasted awful. Strikingly bitter, it dried his mouth out with just a little splash of liquid.
“What-” Neya had returned just in time to watch his face implode.
“I made the tea wrong.” Alex coughed in response.
“How could you have made it wrong?” She asked, lifting the cup out of his hand and getting it almost to her mouth before recoiling from it. “It is not wrong, it is incomplete. You did not put the sugar and bicarbonate in?”
Well, that did explain it. “No I did not.”
“I will finish that, if you would like to use the shower?”
Alex agreed and they switched tasks.
It felt good to be clean, and that little scrubby pad he’d pinched from the kitchen the night before did an excellent job of exfoliating everything. Maybe a little too well for daily use. His legs appreciated the heat, their misery ebbing further away. Neya confirmed that all his clothes had ended up in the drawers under the bed, and while it wasn’t the organizational system he would have used, everything was easy enough to locate.
“It looks fine, right? Right?” Alex held his arms out, showing off his outfit to Neya. He’d opted for human clothing today, a black t-shirt over black pants. They would not be getting him back into formal clothing. Ever, if he had his way. “Toss the jacket on over this. Done. Easy.”
“It looks... Strange. Discomforting. The collar is too high and sleeves too low.” She wrinkled her slender muzzle at him, eyebrows pulled low. She may have been holding a slight grudge. Carbon had messaged them while he was in the shower, requesting that he come and dine with her back near Engineering.
“Ah, what do you know.” He sat on the bed and slipped his shoes on. He had expected that Neya would go too, but Carbon had explained there were protocols to be followed when dining with your Zeshen in public. This wasn’t one of those times.
Neya leaned back in her chair, looking away from him with a dismissive flip of her hand. “I have studied fashion and aesthetics extensively for two decades.”
“You’d both have to do that, huh?” Alex muttered under his breath as he seated his heel and pulled the laces tight. Real arch support felt incredible. “Look, I’ll pick something up for you on the way back. Actually, I’ll have Carbon do it because I don’t know where anything is or what you’d like.”
“It is not the same,” she huffed. Despite the act she was putting up, Neya sounded amused by the exchange.
“Then we won’t get anything and she can just get up early tomorrow and make breakfast.” He stood and picked a few stray hairs off his pants. “How’s that sound?”
“Perhaps you should get me something and she can still cook tomorrow. After such a disappointment, it is the least that will sooth my feelings.” Neya smiled wide, having given up the pretense of being put off entirely and slipping back into her normal warm countenance. She picked his phone off the table and held it out to him, “the map is set to take you directly to the restaurant. I do not think Carbon will appreciate it if you dally.”
“No, I don’t think she would either.” Alex tucked it into a pocket and gave her a wave as he closed the door to the foyer. His jacket fit just fine over the t-shirt and he didn’t particularly care if it didn’t show the appropriate amount of neck and shoulder. It’d probably be better anyway, bare skin seemed to unsettle many of the locals.
He slapped the controls and the heavy door started to retract into the wall. He double checked the map - turn left into the hall, proceed forward 112.3 meters - and followed its instructions after the door closed behind him.
He hadn’t made it to the first junction before he heard a shout behind him and rapid footsteps. “Lord Sorenson!”
The first thing he thought was that he was going to get stabbed again. Maybe shot this time. They would have learned from the first try and waited until he was properly alone before giving killing him another go. By the time he had turned his head to look at his impending death, he had realized the voice was fairly familiar. It didn't even sound angry at all, actually, and hadn’t been translated.
“Sir. Are you all right?” Sergeant Zenshen pulled up short of him, surprise turning to concern as she looked him over.
“Yeah.” Alex managed a nervous laugh. The look of terror on his face twisted into a half-crazed smile, heart still pounding in his chest. He was gripping the phone like it could have been used as a weapon, arms shaking from adrenaline. “Can you never, ever run up behind me like that again?”
She was slow to respond, words laced with confusion as she slid a foot back, easing further away from him. “Yes sir, of course. I will not.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know that was going to be a problem.” Alex exhaled hard, composing himself further. “But yeah, don’t do that again.”
That seemed to settle her well enough. She squared her feet and relaxed, tucking a small black case under her arm. “As I said, it will not happen again. If you have a moment, sir, I do have something to discuss with you.”
“Can you walk while we do that? Carbon’s waiting for me.”
She nodded, dipping close to bow territory. “Of course, my Lord.”
“Good.” He ignored the title as he double checked that he was facing the right way before setting off down the corridor. “Go on, what’s up?”
The Sergeant fell in next to him, footsteps all but silent as she matched his speed. “The Empress appointed me as your military liaison, until you are able to take a command yourself.”
Alex chewed on that for a minute, parsing out exactly what Eleya’s actual intentions might have been. “Why?”
“So that you can be a proper member of the royal family.” There was no ease in her voice, her words sounding more like something she had been coached to say.
That didn’t make this little tidbit of news any easier to digest. “You’re going to be teaching me how to be a... commander?”
“There is no rank for a Prince other than Prince.” She hesitated, conflicted for a moment. “I don't know if the word 'teaching' is correct for what I am supposed to do.”
“Qualify that statement, Sergeant.” He did his best impression of the handful of officers that he’d worked with.
“Permission to speak freely?”
“Yeah, of course.”
A handful of steps went by as she picked her words. “I am here more to keep you from offending anyone important while you are adjusting to your new position, than to train you to do anything.”
“Because you already know how to deal with Humans.” At least, that made sense to him.
She confirmed his assumption with a nod. “It helps. You may find that some will not be as easy to work with, and part of my duty is to ensure everyone’s safety as they adjust.”
“Great.” The corridor widened into a maglev tram stop and he cut across the small plaza to the port side, which ran aft on the loop it took around the ship “That’s great. So that big old target painted on my back is actually for everyone?”
Stana shook her head this time. “That is not entirely correct. Some merely deny your right to command, or to hold a noble title.”
Alex shrugged as the timer clicked by. “So? I think I kind of suck at Prince things. I’d probably be a bad commander too.”
“No. You may be a novice, but you are a Prince. People may think and say what they will.” Her eyes darkened, voice hard and clear as she underscored her point. “But when you tell them to jump, they will ask you how high. Do you understand?”
He straightened, rebuked. “Uh, yeah. I guess I do.”
“You guess?” Not the answer she wanted.
“Yes. I understand.” He panicked just a little bit, not sure exactly what he was getting or what had happened to the pleasant sergeant from last night. The maglev arrived with a soft chime and he hustled inside as soon as the doors opened.
“Good.” She sounded doubtful but eased up, following him into the car. “Did I use that saying correctly?”
“The jump one? Yeah.” Alex sat across from the door, checking the map again to be sure he wouldn’t miss his stop. He had been hoping she’d stay on the platform and that would be that, but as long as she didn’t turn into the drill sergeant again he would deal.
She smiled and chuckled to herself as she sat down next to him. “Excellent. Your military training methods are similar to ours, so I imagine I will be able to bring you up to speed quickly as far as acting the part is concerned. I think it would be wise to continue your training beyond that, so you are fully familiar with a wide aspect of the experiences of those you will command.”
“Sure.” He sighed, feeling a distinct lack of enthusiasm for this endeavor. Alex had more than enough training from learning to be a scoutship pilot. This just sounded like entirely more work than he wanted to be involved in. Though, he didn’t particularly relish the idea of being seen as a slacker or out of touch even if the situation wasn’t one he’d asked for. More allies were better. “That sounds good. If I am gonna do this, I will need to be learning, and not just how to avoid offending someone.”
Stana handed him the package she had been carrying, gesturing for him to open it. “I feel much more comfortable giving you these, knowing that you are willing.”
Alex untied the thin cords that held the bundle closed, surprised at the weight of it as he set it in his lap and unrolled the flaps. A pair of gloves gleamed back at him, silver plate trimmed with gold and set on dark brown leather. “Nice. A little anachronistic, but nice. What do they mean?”
“The gauntlets for a noble’s armor.” Stana intimated he should try them on. “The Empress wanted you to have them now, if you were willing, even though they are unfinished.”
“What’s missing?” He turned them over and then slipped one on, unable to find any sort of indication it needed work. The leather was snug and stiff, no doubt cut to his measurements so it would be his size when it was broken in. The leather ran halfway up his forearm laced to the wrist, the metal plate bolted to the back of the glove extended past his knuckles, nearly to the first joint of his fingers. He made a fist, the protective metal clearly meant to cut should he punch someone while wearing it.
The soldier that had attacked him had been wearing something similar - that explained how he’d done so much damage to Tashen so fast.
“They need your family insignia and you do not currently have one. An appointment has been made this afternoon for you and the Princess to see a designer about that.”
“Huh. Well, all right. Let Neya know and she’ll give us the details.” Alex slid the gloves back into their wrap as the maglev decelerated, springing to his feet when the doors chimed and opened. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I don’t think either of us wants me to be late for this appointment.”
 
First Prev
*****
Just a couple of days of boring nothing happening, that's all he needs.
Art pile: Carbon reference sheet by Tyo_Dem

The train heaved and rolled pleasantly over the track. We chuffed past dark trees and old castles, barely perceptible the glare of fluorescent lights from overhead. I was sitting in the back row, Atticus nestled quietly against my lap. The infant stirred and grimaced under the bright light.
I suppose I’m a kidnapper now, but I’d needed to get him out of his current situation. His mother was… dangerous, and not just to him. I wasn’t sure if she would find us, and I wasn’t sure what would happen to me when we were found, but I needed to try. I was willing to lose everything to save him.
It was winter in Germany, before Christmas, so the country was abustle with quiet excitement unlike the grim January months. Streams of lights, golden and colorful, adorned old country cottages while we slid through silent forests and pearlescent rivers under the overcast moon. I wished Atticus were old enough to appreciate it, and I wondered if he would ever return to Germany when he grew up and see this same dappled moon and these shushing evergreens. I hoped not, it wasn’t safe for him here.
My nerves were still settling down after our escape, and I tried to collect myself as memories of the gloomy house and feral screaming welled up from the recent past. She had been awash in Drug-fueled rage and her fists had pounded my back as I fled. She had promised a terrible revenge; that her father would find me and kill me. She had promised that I would return what was hers.
I tried to enjoy what would otherwise have been a pleasant trip in the Christmas season. The train was comfortable and modern, with advertisements for German cologne and beer smiling down above smudged windows. A digital banner scrolled the name of the next stop. Almost nobody moved on or off the trains, and I felt pleasantly alone among the few strangers… a human archipelago; One island of many.
My reverie was interrupted, and I got the unpleasant, itching feeling of being watched but when I looked around the train car there was nobody there with me. It was pleasantly lit and devoid of any other passengers. That didn’t help the needling feeling in my gut, and my anxiety ticked up slowly while I scanned up and down the plastic seats. Even the neighboring train car was empty. A bearded man sat quietly reading, and a young woman was looking out the window with her headphones on. Neither one seemed interested in me. I was in the last car, so I knew there was nobody behind me. I had made sure to sit so that my back could be to the entire train.
It took another moment for me to notice that two cars away, the passenger compartment was completely dark. That was a little weird, but maybe the power had just cut out in that car; That wasn’t unheard of. Nonetheless, I was certain that the watchfulness I felt emanated from the dark car. When our train slipped from underneath the canopy for a moment, the light of the moon revealed a man sitting alone among the darkened seats.
I only caught the briefest glimpse of him; A broad-shouldered man in a heavy coat and a beleaguered flat cap which sat awkwardly on his narrow head. His back was to me, so I don’t know why I should have felt like this man was watching us; Maybe it was something about the way his head canted at an odd angle like he were suffering from a terrible neck cramp, or the wild tufts of hair which sprang wildly from beneath the cap.
Unconsciously, I pulled Atty closer, and he stirred slightly. His soft, delicate face scrunched up for a moment and his eyes slid open like a cat’s. When he saw that I was still with him through his lidded eyes he cracked into a contented grin and fell back to sleep. That’s right, Atty, you’re safe with me.
Anyone who’s ever carried an infant knows how threatening the world can be. Potential dangers lurk in every alleyway, or in every shadowy alcove. When you have a baby, the dark places in the world stretch out for you with long fingers. One gets paranoid.
I shifted in my seat and tried to comfort myself. The last thing I wanted was for Atty to sense my tension and become upset. He was always hungry nowadays, and I didn’t have a bottle. If he were to sufficiently rouse, he would shortly become infuriated that he wasn’t immediately suckling on formula. Babies are notoriously bad at putting the needs of others first, they’re incredibly selfish that way. Atticus stirred and let out a groan, and the man two cars down shifted in his seat.
His oddly shaped head (was he wearing a mask?) cracked to the side and I thought I saw him straining his ear towards us. He turned his head, and a broad nose rolled into view. Surely, I couldn’t see a pinpoint of light from underneath his heavy brow. I felt as if something malevolent glittered there.
The passengers in the car between us seemed utterly unperturbed. I didn’t realize how thankful I was for their distant company until our car hissed into the next station, and they departed. The doors chirped two pleasant notes and slid closed. Atty and I were alone with the man in the dark car. His silhouette had returned to normal, so that he was looking forward again with his back to me.
I started thinking about Atty’s vile mother, that tweaking crone. She had spat and cursed and gnashed, wild-eyed. I had been warned not to trifle with her, that she was a witch hiding among us modern-day mundanes. Her neighbors had told me that she was a Hag, gnawing on the bones of her victims. Untrue. She was just one more person who had become utterly lost to drugs so that her only thoughts were of the next and how to get the next fix. Society had deemed this an appropriate environment for Atticus, I had not.
Images of pentagrams and black candles filled my imagination, I conjured wildlings dancing in the forest with bones in their hair. I saw Bonfires and bony fists clutching beating hearts. Covens and Cabals and Cults (Oh my!).
I thought of her father, who had supposedly been a cruel and vile man… a shepherd leading his flock into ever more bleak territory. A K-Mart Charles Manson wannabe. He wasn’t worth thinking about, he was dead. He can’t hurt anyone anymore.
The man sitting in the dark car started twitching; His shoulders heaved up and down as if he were silently retching. The train squealed dangerously around a corner, and I tried to keep Atty as still as possible. The thought of him waking up and crying terrified me. A part of me was convinced that Atty’s cries would break whatever tension hung between me and this silent passenger. If the gazelle bolted, what could the lion do but chase? The thought was ridiculous, why did I feel so unsafe?
We were coming to one of the tunnels on my route home. It bored into the side of a mountain to emerge at the base of one of Germany’s lesser-known castle ruins. During the daytime it could have been a John Constable painting, now it felt like jumping face-first into the dragon’s lair.
Then the mouth of the tunnel yawned open and swallowed us whole and the lights in the next car went out. Everything beyond my train car was immersed in total darkness. Our feeble light stopped at the windows as if hitting a brick wall. The darkness outside was so complete that I was certain that the other train cars had vanished, and we were hurtling somewhere…else, and utterly alone. There were no maintenance lights or catwalks, and I couldn’t see the tunnel’s exit.
I heard another sound float above the rhythmic clacking from the featureless shadow in front of me. Someone murmuring? I tried to ignore the ambient noise around me, not German or French… It was either someone muttering wild nonsense or some hideous language I had never heard before. The gibbering voice spat consonants faster than should have been possible. It sounded less like a voice, and more like an audio recording playing too fast. The sound scratched at me unpleasantly and I would have covered my ears were I not holding Atticus.
Atty stirred once more in my arms and grimaced. I patted him softly and begged him silently not to wake up. Not now. You’re safe. I promised to keep you safe.
The tunnel spat us out, and the feeble moon offered the barest relief from the utter blackness. The light in the train car in front of us clicked back on for the barest second before shutting off for good, but long enough for me to see the man in the flat cap now sitting at the far end of the train car adjoining mine.
I hadn’t seen him move, and travelling between the train cars was impossible. I know that it wasn’t possible for him to have gotten up, leapt from one car to another, and seated himself there. He now sat in the dark, exactly as he had before only now one dreadful car closer. He didn’t seem like a part of this world, but like he was superimposed onto it. He didn’t belong here with us. I wanted him to go away.
My efforts to soothe Atticus had finally proved futile, he was awake enough to realize that he was hungry again. He smiled up at me for the briefest moment, then his face flushed deeply and started wailing. His toothless mouth gaped open while he declared in no uncertain terms that he was displeased. “I know, bud. I know, bud.” I repeated to him softly, but it was futile.
I didn’t look at the passenger, I refused to. I didn’t want to see what his reaction would be. I narrowed my perception entirely towards Atty and desperately tried to get him to stop crying. Our stop was only a few minutes away, maybe he could just hold out a little longer until then, but it was no good. His wails rose in pitch and intensity, and he started to pump his little arms frantically, beating furiously in the air. His face was a deep shade of furious crimson and his cries started to undulate. He had spiraled into a domain of pissed-off which would only be soothed with a bottle. Oh God, why hadn’t I remembered the bottle?
I tried to lean in to soothe him, but his little fists knocked my glasses off of my face and I was left scrambling in a blur. Not great. I cradled him as he twitched and wriggled in my arm. I scrambled about the gritty train floor for my glasses. I could hear the frantic murmuring again, only this time it could have been coming from directly over my shoulder. I saw palms pressed against the window to our compartment from the corner of my eye.
Then the lights in my train car went dead.
I wrapped myself around Atticus and put myself between him and the entire world. His wailing had become a fearful whimper, a sound I had only heard once when I found him with fresh scratches all over his arms and legs… He had been attacked by a cat that day and was staring in terror while tears pooled in his red-rimmed eyes. Atty was terrified now, and I could only press him to my chest. We huddled together in the dark while the train rocked down the track while I waited for hands to start grabbing me and trying to pull Atticus away… for what purpose I don’t know.
The murmuring started again, but right into my ear. I could feel cold breath on the back of my neck. It drowned out every other sound; a mad drone either gibberish or a language from a place I never cared to see.
Don’t kill me. Don’t kill me because then I won’t be able to protect him. Just let me get him home safe into his crib, with my Wife, and then you can kill me. Just not yet. Please not now. I prayed while I felt my mind breaking. I offered my life and my soul to whoever or whatever would take it in trade for Atty’s safety. The mad gurgling increased in fervency, so loud that my ears were filled with it.
I felt myself tugged forward by inertia as the train glided to a stop at the next station. My station. I didn’t bother to grab my glasses and I sprinted out of the darkened train, but I caught a glimpse of a face pressed against the glass from the dark car. My vision is terrible so that the face looming in the dark was only a blur. What I could see was completely wrong; The face defied the logic of human proportion. I can’t do justice to it, all I can tell you is that it was grinning madly. I was granted impressions of a fish-mouthed grin and wild, round eyes. I passed within inches of it, separated by only the merest barrier of smudged glass, and then I stumbled into the bitter cold of the December night.
I watched the train slip away against my better judgment.
Nothing. The train was empty, and all of the cars were lit. That should have made me feel better, but it didn’t. Where did it go?
I descended slowly from the platform into the hot, steaming depths of the train station. I moved precariously, placing my feet delicately one in front of the other. Better that Atty is a bit cold for a minute longer than if I trip and crush him beneath me.
Atty! A Sick dread draped over me, and I realized that Atty had stopped squirming and crying completely. He felt stiff and rigid in my arms, his fists were bunched at his sides. He was still and tense in a way which was utterly unnatural, and I looked down to check that he hadn’t seized up from the cold.
That gaping fish-eyed grin carved into Atty’s cherubic face was one that was only too familiar. Beaded eyes burned with manic hatred, inches from me. Seeing such a cruel intelligence on Atty’s normally soft features is something I can never unsee. I screamed.
I know where the dark passenger is now.
I’m not going to abandon my son.

I decided I'd better start posting these here first for review. Please let me know if this meets the requirements for nosleep. Thanks!
***
The train heaved and rolled pleasantly over the track. We chuffed past dark trees and old castles, barely perceptible the glare of fluorescent lights from overhead. I was sitting in the back row, Atticus nestled quietly against my lap. The infant stirred and grimaced under the bright light.
I suppose I’m a kidnapper now, but I’d needed to get him out of his current situation. His mother was… dangerous, and not just to him. I wasn’t sure if she would find us, and I wasn’t sure what would happen to me when we were found, but I needed to try. I was willing to lose everything to save him.
It was winter in Germany, before Christmas, so the country was abustle with quiet excitement unlike the grim January months. Streams of lights, golden and colorful, adorned old country cottages while we slid through silent forests and pearlescent rivers under the overcast moon. I wished Atticus were old enough to appreciate it, and I wondered if he would ever return to Germany when he grew up and see this same dappled moon and these shushing evergreens. I hoped not, it wasn’t safe for him here.
My nerves were still settling down after our escape, and I tried to collect myself as memories of the gloomy house and feral screaming welled up from the recent past. She had been awash in Drug-fueled rage and her fists had pounded my back as I fled. She had promised a terrible revenge; that her father would find me and kill me. She had promised that I would return what was hers.
I tried to enjoy what would otherwise have been a pleasant trip in the Christmas season. The train was comfortable and modern, with advertisements for German cologne and beer smiling down above smudged windows. A digital banner scrolled the name of the next stop. Almost nobody moved on or off the trains, and I felt pleasantly alone among the few strangers… a human archipelago; One island of many.
My reverie was interrupted, and I got the unpleasant, itching feeling of being watched but when I looked around the train car there was nobody there with me. It was pleasantly lit and devoid of any other passengers. That didn’t help the needling feeling in my gut, and my anxiety ticked up slowly while I scanned up and down the plastic seats. Even the neighboring train car was empty. A bearded man sat quietly reading, and a young woman was looking out the window with her headphones on. Neither one seemed interested in me. I was in the last car, so I knew there was nobody behind me. I had made sure to sit so that my back could be to the entire train.
It took another moment for me to notice that two cars away, the passenger compartment was completely dark. That was a little weird, but maybe the power had just cut out in that car; That wasn’t unheard of. Nonetheless, I was certain that the watchfulness I felt emanated from the dark car. When our train slipped from underneath the canopy for a moment, the light of the moon revealed a man sitting alone among the darkened seats.
I only caught the briefest glimpse of him; A broad-shouldered man in a heavy coat and a beleaguered flat cap which sat awkwardly on his narrow head. His back was to me, so I don’t know why I should have felt like this man was watching us; Maybe it was something about the way his head canted at an odd angle like he were suffering from a terrible neck cramp, or the wild tufts of hair which sprang wildly from beneath the cap.
Unconsciously, I pulled Atty closer, and he stirred slightly. His soft, delicate face scrunched up for a moment and his eyes slid open like a cat’s. When he saw that I was still with him through his lidded eyes he cracked into a contented grin and fell back to sleep. That’s right, Atty, you’re safe with me.
Anyone who’s ever carried an infant knows how threatening the world can be. Potential dangers lurk in every alleyway, or in every shadowy alcove. When you have a baby, the dark places in the world stretch out for you with long fingers. One gets paranoid.
I shifted in my seat and tried to comfort myself. The last thing I wanted was for Atty to sense my tension and become upset. He was always hungry nowadays, and I didn’t have a bottle. If he were to sufficiently rouse, he would shortly become infuriated that he wasn’t immediately suckling on formula. Babies are notoriously bad at putting the needs of others first, they’re incredibly selfish that way. Atticus stirred and let out a groan, and the man two cars down shifted in his seat.
His oddly shaped head (was he wearing a mask?) cracked to the side and I thought I saw him straining his ear towards us. He turned his head, and a broad nose rolled into view. Surely, I couldn’t see a pinpoint of light from underneath his heavy brow. I felt as if something malevolent glittered there.
The passengers in the car between us seemed utterly unperturbed. I didn’t realize how thankful I was for their distant company until our car hissed into the next station, and they departed. The doors chirped two pleasant notes and slid closed. Atty and I were alone with the man in the dark car. His silhouette had returned to normal, so that he was looking forward again with his back to me.
I started thinking about Atty’s vile mother, that tweaking crone. She had spat and cursed and gnashed, wild-eyed. I had been warned not to trifle with her, that she was a witch hiding among us modern-day mundanes. Her neighbors had told me that she was a Hag, gnawing on the bones of her victims. Untrue. She was just one more person who had become utterly lost to drugs so that her only thoughts were of the next and how to get the next fix. Society had deemed this an appropriate environment for Atticus, I had not.
Images of pentagrams and black candles filled my imagination, I conjured wildlings dancing in the forest with bones in their hair. I saw Bonfires and bony fists clutching beating hearts. Covens and Cabals and Cults (Oh my!).
I thought of her father, who had supposedly been a cruel and vile man… a shepherd leading his flock into ever more bleak territory. A K-Mart Charles Manson wannabe. He wasn’t worth thinking about, he was dead. He can’t hurt anyone anymore.
The man sitting in the dark car started twitching; His shoulders heaved up and down as if he were silently retching. The train squealed dangerously around a corner, and I tried to keep Atty as still as possible. The thought of him waking up and crying terrified me. A part of me was convinced that Atty’s cries would break whatever tension hung between me and this silent passenger. If the gazelle bolted, what could the lion do but chase? The thought was ridiculous, why did I feel so unsafe?
We were coming to one of the tunnels on my route home. It bored into the side of a mountain to emerge at the base of one of Germany’s lesser-known castle ruins. During the daytime it could have been a John Constable painting, now it felt like jumping face-first into the dragon’s lair.
Then the mouth of the tunnel yawned open and swallowed us whole and the lights in the next car went out. Everything beyond my train car was immersed in total darkness. Our feeble light stopped at the windows as if hitting a brick wall. The darkness outside was so complete that I was certain that the other train cars had vanished, and we were hurtling somewhere…else, and utterly alone. There were no maintenance lights or catwalks, and I couldn’t see the tunnel’s exit.
I heard another sound float above the rhythmic clacking from the featureless shadow in front of me. Someone murmuring? I tried to ignore the ambient noise around me, not German or French… It was either someone muttering wild nonsense or some hideous language I had never heard before. The gibbering voice spat consonants faster than should have been possible. It sounded less like a voice, and more like an audio recording playing too fast. The sound scratched at me unpleasantly and I would have covered my ears were I not holding Atticus.
Atty stirred once more in my arms and grimaced. I patted him softly and begged him silently not to wake up. Not now. You’re safe. I promised to keep you safe.
The tunnel spat us out, and the feeble moon offered the barest relief from the utter blackness. The light in the train car in front of us clicked back on for the barest second before shutting off for good, but long enough for me to see the man in the flat cap now sitting at the far end of the train car adjoining mine.
I hadn’t seen him move, and travelling between the train cars was impossible. I know that it wasn’t possible for him to have gotten up, leapt from one car to another, and seated himself there. He now sat in the dark, exactly as he had before only now one dreadful car closer. He didn’t seem like a part of this world, but like he was superimposed onto it. He didn’t belong here with us. I wanted him to go away.
My efforts to soothe Atticus had finally proved futile, he was awake enough to realize that he was hungry again. He smiled up at me for the briefest moment, then his face flushed deeply and started wailing. His toothless mouth gaped open while he declared in no uncertain terms that he was displeased. “I know, bud. I know, bud.” I repeated to him softly, but it was futile.
I didn’t look at the passenger, I refused to. I didn’t want to see what his reaction would be. I narrowed my perception entirely towards Atty and desperately tried to get him to stop crying. Our stop was only a few minutes away, maybe he could just hold out a little longer until then, but it was no good. His wails rose in pitch and intensity, and he started to pump his little arms frantically, beating furiously in the air. His face was a deep shade of furious crimson and his cries started to undulate. He had spiraled into a domain of pissed-off which would only be soothed with a bottle. Oh God, why hadn’t I remembered the bottle?
I tried to lean in to soothe him, but his little fists knocked my glasses off of my face and I was left scrambling in a blur. Not great. I cradled him as he twitched and wriggled in my arm. I scrambled about the gritty train floor for my glasses. I could hear the frantic murmuring again, only this time it could have been coming from directly over my shoulder. I saw palms pressed against the window to our compartment from the corner of my eye.
Then the lights in my train car went dead.
I wrapped myself around Atticus and put myself between him and the entire world. His wailing had become a fearful whimper, a sound I had only heard once when I found him with fresh scratches all over his arms and legs… He had been attacked by a cat that day and was staring in terror while tears pooled in his red-rimmed eyes. Atty was terrified now, and I could only press him to my chest. We huddled together in the dark while the train rocked down the track while I waited for hands to start grabbing me and trying to pull Atticus away… for what purpose I don’t know.
The murmuring started again, but right into my ear. I could feel cold breath on the back of my neck. It drowned out every other sound; a mad drone either gibberish or a language from a place I never cared to see.
Don’t kill me. Don’t kill me because then I won’t be able to protect him. Just let me get him home safe into his crib, with my Wife, and then you can kill me. Just not yet. Please not now. I prayed while I felt my mind breaking. I offered my life and my soul to whoever or whatever would take it in trade for Atty’s safety. The mad gurgling increased in fervency, so loud that my ears were filled with it.
I felt myself tugged forward by inertia as the train glided to a stop at the next station. My station. I didn’t bother to grab my glasses and I sprinted out of the darkened train, but I caught a glimpse of a face pressed against the glass from the dark car. My vision is terrible so that the face looming in the dark was only a blur. What I could see was completely wrong; The face defied the logic of human proportion. I can’t do justice to it, all I can tell you is that it was grinning madly. I was granted impressions of a fish-mouthed grin and wild, round eyes. I passed within inches of it, separated by only the merest barrier of smudged glass, and then I stumbled into the bitter cold of the December night.
I watched the train slip away against my better judgment.
Nothing. The train was empty, and all of the cars were lit. That should have made me feel better, but it didn’t. Where did it go?
I descended slowly from the platform into the hot, steaming depths of the train station. I moved precariously, placing my feet delicately one in front of the other. Better that Atty is a bit cold for a minute longer than if I trip and crush him beneath me.
Atty! A Sick dread draped over me, and I realized that Atty had stopped squirming and crying completely. He felt stiff and rigid in my arms, his fists were bunched at his sides. He was still and tense in a way which was utterly unnatural, and I looked down to check that he hadn’t seized up from the cold.
That gaping fish-eyed grin carved into Atty’s cherubic face was one that was only too familiar. Beaded eyes burned with manic hatred, inches from me. Seeing such a cruel intelligence on Atty’s normally soft features is something I can never unsee. I screamed.
I know where the dark passenger is now.
I’m not going to abandon my son.

Mary's Perspective
I'm nude, with my arms tied in a binder behind my back. I'm strapped to the left roll bar of one of the Queen Of Mean's Dune Buggies, secured above and below my breasts, at the waist, above my knees, and at my ankles to the roll bar with the sturdy but supple leather bindings her crew uses.
I'm panel gagged and hooded with a bondage ski mask. To the credit of the Queen Of Mean's crew, in concession to the hot day, it's a light, black canvas. Still holds the heat in, I miserably try to blink the sweat running down my face out of my eyes.
That bitch Mistress Daci is enjoying every second of it, deliberately driving over the roughest terrain, laughing when I'm jolted and bumped on my bondage post; telling me to shut up harshly when I let out muffled squeals and groans. I guess it beats the bitch suit, though not by much.
What exactly are we doing out here? What information I could gather, one of the first new episodes of the new season of Perseverance is going to take place mostly on the ground. Supposedly, Stellar Compact forces are mopping up stubborn pockets of N'Docc" and Amazonian warriors on a recently retaken planet, the scenes will include devastated woods and fields with possible hulks of war machines destroyed in the fighting.
Queen of Means crew are looking for places to secure Constance, Myself, and other extras during scenes. All I got from Miss Connor, is there'll be scenes of dead and dying slaves, tied to trees, posts and war machines, made up with gore prosthetics. According to her some of them will be unhurt or only slightly wounded despite being bound, and triaged to safety. I'm sure that won't be Constance or I, we'll have to wear the gore makeup and stay staked out the longest as dead slaves. The Triage scenes will be the shortest and easiest, reserved for the porn starlets and wannabes who suddenly want to volunteer for the surprise fetish hit show, not the likes of Bottom Slaves Mary and Constance.
Of course, according to the release material, both of us decided we're super submissives, and like being the lowest slaves, and treated as such, on and off the set. Technically we are volunteers, and could quit at any time. Realistically, we'd be broke and ruined, at least for a time, if we did. The contract I have with Master Henson, and Constance has with the Queen Of Mean, binds us to that as firmly as we' re bound to various objects throughout the day.
Constance actually does have more star billing this year, as Mistress Daci gleefully confided as she strapped me to this stupid buggy. She'll be Compact ace fighter pilot Rachael Willis, captured during a skirmish before the Battle Of Botany Bay.
The Amazonians have developed an experimental neural interface program that can read the brain's engrams of people's skills, and gradually teach and transfer them to people with a propensity for similar skills. Rachael will be the slave of a young Amazonian fighter pilot, played by Daci, of course. Despite her youth, her potential as a fighter pilot makes her a prime choice to take advantage of the computer's potential, and the exploitation of poor Major Rachael Willis. Though Daci's character is generally too young to formally have the honor of a Whipping Girl, she'll generally be treated almost the same. Except, since she's just a slave, and not a Whipping Girl, her honor as a Warrior won't even be remembered in the temple. She'll simply die a nameless, dignity less slave when they're done with exploiting.
Which is why she's not here, but in the Ready Room, being "trained" on her new role by Mistress Nora, Mistress Vasquez and Miss Connor. Yeah, she's not having a good time. Surely getting plenty of nipple flicks and slapped across the face with rolled up scripts by Mistresses Nora and Vasquez. Plus my Domme and the Hispanic girl like to yell and bluster in my face when they're frustrated with me. Yeah, I was in the Navy. Doesn't mean I enjoy being treated like that. Miss Connor, while usually cool and professional to even Constance and I, can be a first rate bitch when our slave asses piss her off.
I'd still rather be there than here. Mistress Daci, despite being a month shy of twenty, has been designated Top Domme by QOM for this expedition. The rest are new young recruit dommes, late teens to early twenties, eager to prove themselves, by "teaching" the only sub in this expedition, Bottom Slave Mary Williamson, almost age 26.
The Buggy comes to a halt abruptly, jolting me, making me "hmmph!". At Mistress Stoica's command, a young buzz cut asian girl, and even younger blue haired black girl, untie me and help me down with shocking patience. That evaporates as they frog march me to a tree, turn me around and force my back to it, then roughly rebind me to the tree.
The two dommes are dressed identically, White T-Shirts with "The Queen Mean"in Black Cursive font printed on them, a coiled bullwhip underneath. They're also wearing cutoff jeans shorts and black hiking boots. The two young mean girls shove and yell at their voluptuous blond slave girl as they tie her to the tree.
I'm tied the same way as to the Dune Buggy, above and below my bare breasts, at the waist, above the knees, at the ankles. Then the black Mistress smilingly straps my head to the tree, gleefully taking away even that small freedom from me.
The two of them get right up in my face on each side, berating me for fabricated infractions of QOM's strict rules for subs. Buzz Cut to my left, Blue Top to my right. They punctuate their tirades with nipple flicks and shin kicks, while I try to stay quiet and look attentive.
Then Daci says authoritatively, "Stop, Girls. You both have done very well. Mistress Daci want to talk to her thicc white baby girl, with big, juicy American ass." The two eager young apprentice dommes obediently back off to make way for their Top Domme.
I have to admit as she struts up to me she looks good, so sinuous, powerful, and authoritative. I'm bisexual and submissive, she's pushing all my buttons, despite myself, I'm sooo wet. She's wearing an old fashioned safari pith helmet, white button down shirt, white board shorts belted with a white web belt, and the same hiking boots as her two apprentice Dommes. It's all perfectly tailored to accentuate the slender blond girl's tomboyish yet alluring figure.
Her left hand fondles my right breast; her right hand reaches around to grab my waist, like she'd pull me to her. Aggressively, like a man. If I wasn't tied to a tree.
"My beautiful little blond Yankee sweetheart, I so happy your Mistress Nora let me spend time with you, PAWG. I like my ebony slave, fuck her with strap, and make her eat my pussy and ass real good. But you baby, you so hot, I love being little thicc American girl's domme? I have confession to make, you make me wet, little PAWG." She gives an exaggerated "Ohhhh."
My Domme For The Day's face is so close to mine I can smell the savory fruit flavored gum on her breath. Her left hand slides down from my breast to the cleft between my tied together legs. She manages to wedge her hand in enough to rub my clit, I shouldn't feel so hot well being so miserable and trussed up. But as much as I hate Mistress Daci, I have to admit she's a great lesbian domme. She knows just how to keep my subbie butt balanced between orgasmic joy and extreme suffering. Fucking bitch.
"Ooh, is my little PAWG wet for me, too? Don't lie, PAWG." Her sweet sensuous voice takes on a note of sterness. But it's no lie when I mmmph "Yes, Mistress Daci." through the panel gag.
Her hateful laugh "That good my little PAWG, because we going to play a little game, yes? We rub pussies and try to come together, sound fun, no? The trick is I have my belt around your neck, control your breathing. Just to make it extra fun for you. No?"
I'm horrified as she backs off from me, turns to Buzz Cut and Blue. "Janice, Anna, you scout around, take videos and pictures to show Miss Connor, later. You can find a place for a little fun together, but don't forget job! I entertain our little Sweetheart. Run along, ladies, now."
The two apprentice Dommes say "Yes, Mistress!" in chorus. They leer at me as they move off together, though seem disappointed they won't get to watch any of the fun. I, on the other hand, get ringside seats. I'd trade in a second.
My eyes lock on Daci as she pulls down her shorts, over her boots, carefully folds them, then lays them to the side. She pulls the belt out of it's loops and coils it in her hand smiling at me. As she advances on me, my eyes lock on her golden haired pubic thatch, for a moment it stands out to me glaringly, due to the angle of the sun...I'm about to be erotic asphyxiated by a slimmer version of me...
Sheila's perspective
It's a rough week, I have a lot going on. Dad's Cancer, mom bugging me about finding Sandy, knowing there are things I've never told her about our "employment" with Mistress Ari. I never will, if I can help it. Then my new ally, Lara. The glaring question, can I trust her? I'd say no.
I'd say no, except....her eyes when she asked me for some inside sister phrase to verify she was on the level, to both Sandy and I. I didn't see the ditzy porn starlet I and the girls "calibrated" a year or so back. The sad eyes of some wise and compassionate soul stared back at me, not the Lara Gupta I knew. Not even close.
When did that Ditzy bitch become a Mahatma, "Great Soul"? Did I even want to know? The world just spirals into greater weirdness.
But, speaking for the present, I have a show to run, the surprise Sci-Fi fetish hit, The Perseverance. When I started this project, I expected it to last, half a season, maybe. I signed on to hone my writing, and the hefty paychecks my man Davey was offering. Instead we're starting work on Season Three already.
I look at the four women sharing the ready room with me, from left to right.
Layla Vazquez, the beautiful Hispanic former Marine, who plays a similar character on the Perseverance, Sergeant Gabriella "Gabby" Perez, Acting Platoon Sergeant of the Marine Detachment on the Perseverance.
Tied naked to a chair, arms bindered behind her back, was the beautiful ebony former Domme Constance Anderson, now the lowest slave in QOM's crew. She was also wearing a black hood and panel gag, she wasn't expected to speak, just follow the direction of Mistress Nora and Mistress Vazquez. As I established clearly in our first meeting, my direction as well, as her overriding imperative.
To Constance's left, our brightly shining star Nora Jameson, aka Commander (Temporary) Dora Gail, Stellar Compact. The mousy, shy sub of a much older man had really blossomed on this project. Her Master essentially forced her into this project to boost her self esteem. It was hard to remember the poised, confident young girl in front of me was the same person. Watching her grow has been the best part of this project, for me at least.
Finally, sitting quietly to her Mistress's left, Sarah Ok Kim, aka Lieutenant ASSHO 304, Stellar Compact Navy. Like Layla, she'd been a real life Navy Officer, before being dismissed from service for a poor decision. She was now Nora's submissive, one of them anyway (Poor Mary), and the second most popular character after Nora.
Nora and Layla had been going over the script with Constance, Sarah quietly fetching coffee, water and snacks for the two dommes when they commanded her, otherwise sitting quietly to her beloved Mistress Nora's left. Nora usually had a hand on one of Sarah's thighs when she wasn't discipling Constance.
Constance wasn't happy about her starring role in this coming season. Can't say I blamed her. Daci had already gave her a tour of the cramped cockpit set she'd be sharing with her Romanian Domme during the Space Battle scenes. Cramped for Constance that is.
Daci's cockpit was spacious, comfortable and packed with sophisticated displays and controls. Her slave would be strapped behind her in a cramped, miserable space behind her Mistress. The only space allowed would be for clear shots of her ebony breasts and dark pussy. I knew Daci would maximize her misery and suffering with true wicked genius. So did Constance, she knew her Mistress's bully routine by now. If she wanted the payout QOM put in her contract, she had to endure it.
Yeah, she wasn't focused or teachable when Layla and Nora first dragged the poor arm bindered, hooded woman into the ready room. They'd strapped her to Mary's usual chair and bullied and badgered her for half an hour. Nora screamed in her face and slapped her with a rolled up script, while Layla flicked her big dark nipples and berated her as a failed domme. Sarah and I exchanged concerned looks at our friends' cruelty. But I decided to give them a half hour to make their point to her. At the end of it I held up my hand, Layla and Nora recognized that non verbal signal and immediately stopped.
"Constance" I addressed the hapless Ebony sub. I had her full attention as well as my two girls. "Are you ready to obey Mistress Nora and Mistress Vasquez and follow their directions and instruction for you?"
She nodded and mmmphed "Yes, Miss Connor." I addressed Nora and Layla. "Girls, as long as she's compliant and obedient, reign it in, I need you to prep her for her role, not ruthlessly terrorize her. You have leave to discipline her if needed, but remember I'm watching." I felt pride as both my girls met my steely gaze cooly and said "Yes, Miss Connor."
Since then all three girls were role models of Domme/Sub comportment. Constance obeyed and acknowledged her younger dommes instruction, acknowledging questions respectfully, and quietly listening to their direction as they went over her parts with her. My dommes were more gentle, touching her shoulder or breasts lightly to get her attention. They kept their voices cool and professional as they briefed her role to her. They even asked her if she needed water, and ungagged her so Sarah could hydrate her if needed with bottled water.
I run a tight ship, but a fair one. I demand obedience from subbies, Mary, Nora and Sarah can all testify to that. But I don't tolerate gratuitous cruelty, especially when it hurts our bottom line.
My pride in my girls was interuppted by a text from Master Dave. "Sheila, sorry to interrupt you lovely ladies, but I have some news that affects you, and possibly all of us. Arianna Cromwell wants to tour the set, apparently she's quite the fan. She also wants to check in on her "protege", you obviously Sheila, and meet our stable, presumably the main cast of the Perseverance."
"I'd like to talk to my three Alpha ladies first, then we can bring in Alpha Slave Sarah and Beta Slave Constance. My Secretary Miri can watch both of them until we decide to summon them."
I turned to my girls and cleared my throat. "Ladies." Four sets of beautiful eyes locked on me. "Master Dave has summoned all five of us. He wants to talk to me, Nora and Layla first. Slaves Sarah and Constance will wait in the reception room, Miri will watch them until their summoned. Mistress Nora, how do you want your subs to wait?"
Without hesitation, Nora says "Sarah can relax on the couch until summoned. Girl Constance will stand with her nose in a corner until she's summoned." I nodded my acquiescence to Mistress Nora's direction for her little subbies.
Layla and Nora untie Constance's bonds to her chair and helps her carefully to her feet. Nora collars her and attaches a leash, handing the end to Sarah.
We trudge solemnly to Davey's office, me in the lead, my two Alpha ladies behind me; Slave Sarah leading Slave Constance bringing up the rear.
Only then does my mind really start to process. I haven't talked to Mistress Ari face to face, since we shook hands on our deal and I turned my back on Sandy in that long ago room. Surely it can't be coincidence she wants to see me now, with the drama around freeing my little sis? The plot thickens.
https://www.reddit.com/BDSMerotica/s/oB7y0hJ1Mo Part 5

Hey now, I never said that there was only one more upload before the reveal, just one more chapter. Full disclosure, though, there will be two more parts at least, but only because so much is going to happen in such a short span of time that's necessary. Again, thanks to u/SpacePaladin15 for creating this universe and to u/Acceptable_Egg5560 who's been a fantastic person to work and write with!
[First]-[Prev]-[Next]
Memory Transcription Subject: Vekna, Determined Investigative Journalist. Date [Standardized Human Time]: October 31st, 2136
Thank the Herd there are so many people around right now.
I never thought I’d ever think something like that, but even I can’t deny that the cover of others makes slipping by undetected far easier. Our approach was going well until, upon approaching the temple, we had found a security checkpoint blocking our path. Not wanting to risk detection, Sharnet had dragged me upstream through a small herd of people exiting, much to my internal displeasure. I had needed to keep myself stiff as people of all manners passed by us, their thunderous footsteps flooding my ears and their careless tails scraping along my body. Had Sharnet not been holding my paw, I’d have likely collapsed on the spot.
As if I need another reminder of my true nature.
Once we had gotten through, we had set our sights on the temple ahead of us. Sharnet postulated that Malcos would want to hide his operations from the normal goings on of the temple, and I had been inclined to agree. To start our search, we made our way around the three massive pyramids surrounding the main tower. Unfortunately, we had found nothing there except for loose rock and stone, so we had decided to redouble our efforts on the centerpiece of the temple: the Spire of Solgalick.
“We should check around the base for any hidden or guarded basements,” Sharnet whispers to me as we make our way up the stairs towards the Spire. Seeing it from a bird’s eye view doesn’t do the sheer scale of the building justice. If I didn’t know better, I’d say the Stonebuilder himself constructed this place. “I haven’t seen anything of the like on the steps, which means our in must be inside the spire itself.”
“That could be dangerous,” I caution, grunting as I adjust my travel case on my back. I hadn’t wanted to wear them, but Sharnet had insisted that they’d help us blend in better with the other travelers making their cyclical migration to the holy site. By the number of people I’ve witnessed doing the same, I can safely say she had been right. “If we’re spotted before we can pop the cans, we’ll be taken away for sure!”
“That’s why we won’t be spotted,” Sharnet says as she starts drifting to the right. I follow suit upon seeing a Venlil guard looking over the crowd to the left, a bored expression on their features. “With all these people around, we’re essentially invisible to anyone not truly looking for us. All we need to do is get to a point where we can lob the cans into the crowd and cause an evacuation. After that, everything should go to plan. Don’t tell me you’re having second thoughts about a plan you made now,” Sharnet ribs, giving a low whistle shortly thereafter.
“No no, I still think it will work,” I say to try and assuage both Sharnet’s concerns…and my own. “It’s just…what if something goes wrong? If the guards don’t disperse like we want? If Malcos doesn’t come out like we need him to? What if-” I was going to continue listing things that could go wrong, but a familiar shade of brown catches my eye amidst the sea of gray and tan. “...Hold that thought, actually. We might not need the distraction to lure Malcos out after all.”
Before Sharnet can ask what I mean, I begin to pull her through the sparse herd, walking perpendicular in pursuit of that shade of brown. As I finally get a clear line of sight on them, I can confirm that they’re the same Yotul that had left Vane’s manor earlier in the claw. I watch them make their way up the stairs just a bit behind us, and sign to them with my tail so Sharnet can see too. She scans the area for a short moment before her ears shoot up, telling me that she recognizes the Yotul as well.
“There,” I say as quietly as I can while still being heard over the noise of the herd around us. “He was with Vane before. If we follow him, he’ll lead us right to the drugs, and more importantly, Malcos,” I say as I track the brown Yotul through the crowd, zeroing in on his position.
Sharnet’s ears flick forward in approval. “He doesn’t know what we look like, either! We don’t even have to worry about getting too close! We should still keep an eye out for any potential guards or Exterminators. Don't want to tip them off.”
I signal my understanding, and we start to slowly move our way through the crowd closer to the Yotul. It’s a laborious process, sticking just far enough away to avoid drawing suspicion, but we manage alright enough. We only briefly lose sight of him as he crosses the threshold of the stairs, but we quickly regain line of sight once we catch up. He dodges around a massive stone pillar, and to be safe, Sharnet and I cross the other side. However, our target isn’t the only thing that catches our eyes once we’re in the open air of the spire’s ground floor atrium.
There it is. The Statue of Solgalick.
It’s honestly a wonder, a statue standing over two stories tall still supported by its legs and tail upon the ground. Externally, it doesn’t beget much consideration, but the internal forces acting upon it must be immense. The statue looks to be fashioned of a white marble that gleams as brilliantly as the sun shining behind it, the symbol of which shines silver in its chest. Ten arms are raised at various angles at its sides, grasping all the tools of Solgalick’s domain, at least from what I remember learning as a child.
{-ALERT: Multiple Untranslatable Words Upcoming-}
{-CAU: Religious Connotations-}
{-Attempt With Closest Spellings And Matches? (Y)/N -}
{-For Further Context, Please Consider These Resources(funny link)-}
The shaalna [Closest Translation: Sickle] of harvest bounty and the ahboorh [Closest Translation: Hammer] of industry are held in the lowest pair, closest to the ground where they would be used. A sun-shaped uurkhiil [Closest Translation: Shield] to protect from predators and twin nihaant [Closest Translation: Scales] of judgment reside in the middle pair, to protect the worthy and judge the sinful. Two pairs of its hands are empty, the lower set just above the shaalna and ahboorh cupping around the symbol on its chest while the upper set above the uurkhiil and nihaant had their hands spread to hold the world. Finally, raised above its head, are the two suljiit [Closest Translation: Torches] Solgalick uses to guide people through this life and send them to the next. The beliefs of the Followers are similar enough to the Church of the Herd for my father to have taught me some of them before… I ought to visit him once this is all over.
Yet for some reason, the statue gives me pause. I can’t place a claw on what, but it feels… wrong somehow. I squint, trying to scrutinize what’s causing that tickle in my brain. The statue is magnificent, beautifully maintained despite its age from what I guessed was the tender care of the priests. I could even see the evidence of thorough polishing on his braziers and helmet.
Wait. Not both braziers. A brazier, and the helmet. Where one is carved from marble with a metal basin, allowing the endless flames to burn, the other, completely metal one looks… damaged, despite its gleam. As if parts have been worn down over and over from the removal of… rust, maybe? Upon closer inspection, the left side’s brazier appears thin and brittle, shining like glass and looking just as fragile. Not only that, but the helmet appears to be in even worse condition, scrapes and pits scattered across its reflective, but clearly rusted, surface. Sure, the statue itself isn’t perfect: the paws and tail have some damage where the Followers would rub them, and flecks of dust stick to the body, but the helmet gives the impression it would be eaten away at any second.
Heh. Maybe we’ll see Solgalick’s face if it does.
But I can’t let myself get distracted by the statue, no matter what may or may not have happened just recently. It’s a good thing that I did, too, as I see the Yotul crouched by the base of the statue. I brush Sharnet’s legs with my tail to draw her attention back on course, just in time to watch our target enter something into a numpad. A slight hissing can be heard as the Yotul slips from sight. I don’t want to take any chances with self-closing backdoors this time around, so I grab Sharnet’s paw and begin booking it towards where the Yotul had disappeared to.
As I round the base, I see an indentation in the stone with a cold, blue light coming from within. Just as the hidden door starts to close, I block it with my paw, hoping that it has standard safeguards installed. To my relief, and the relief of my paw, it stops as soon as it feels stiff resistance and opens back fully. I huff anxiously as I slip my travel pack off my shoulders and barricade the door with it. “Okay, we need to be quiet. Leave your pack out here, I’ll use mine as a doorstop. Once we get some cans of Sun Bliss, head topside and scatter them around. I’ll do my best to draw Malcos out in the open. From there? I’ll leave it to you to make sure he doesn’t go anywhere.”
Sharnet lowers her head and straightens her ears, signaling her preparedness. I’m glad she’s feeling that way, because I’m certainly not. Once her bag is safely pressed against the base of Solgalick’s statue, she joins me in the cramped tunnel. I place my own case against the opened door, ensuring that it would remain that way until disturbed by Sharnet. Hopefully by Sharnet, in any case. We moved forward closer towards the edge of the spiral, and the tunnel became a descending staircase. We made our way down for several minutes, the passageway obviously new by the metal in its construction. As we pass one of the blue lights illuminating our descent, a realization hits me. “This is like the maintenance tunnels in Sidestar. These lights are too dim to have ever been in public use.”
“Hmh, maybe I gave Malcos too little credit,” Sharnet answers as the steps continue down. “If I had known that he’d be holed up in some underground bunker, I would’ve included a lot more places in my pool of initial searches.” As she says that, faint noises start to enter our ears. It sounds like when the warehouse in Dawn Creek was preparing to pack up shop, but more. Much more.
By the time the stairs become a level path again, I conclude we must have descended well below the base of the spire. As we approach the bottom of the steps, I hear the hiss of a door ahead of us, followed by a click as it shuts once again. I hold out a paw to stop Sharnet, investigating ahead. Far down the tunnel, I quickly find a single door in our path, and after checking it for any clearance locks, I open it to see what I find. All at once, the noises we heard hit my ears like a cargo hauler. It’s disorienting, spiking a quick pain in my ears as I struggle to adjust to the cacophony I thrust myself into. After a few nauseating moments, I finally manage enough to lift my eyes to the room and start to survey it.
Room is an understatement, this place could double as a spaceport in of itself! Chances are that’s exactly what this is, what existed prior to the sprawling complex that now flanks the temple on the surface. Multiple mobile landing pads hold shuttles being loaded with all manner of illicit substances, hundreds if not thousands of workers scurrying around the cavernous space below. Besides the old cargo shuttles, a couple of truly enormous dedicated freighter vessels rest dormant as they, too, are loaded with contraband. Slightly below us,, suspended monorails bring yet more supplies in to be loaded for transit, placing the cap on an immense and intricate underground network, quite literally in this case.
“This place is way bigger than I thought,” Sharnet says, gawking at the scenery from our elevated position on the catwalk. Before I can respond, she points at one of the personnel lifts, a brown form visible within it. “There he goes! You follow after him, I’ll get those cans of Sun Bliss from down below.” I flick my ears and start after him, only to have Sharnet firmly grasp my shoulder. I turn to look at her, confusion likely evident on my features. “And Vekna? Be careful.”
I lock her gaze for a single, eternal moment before I sign affirmatively. “I will.” With that, she releases me, and for the first time in a long time, we go our separate ways. As I speed towards the lift that would lead me towards Malcos, I glimpse Sharnet descending on a lift of her own, down towards the chaos of the bustling underground port. For a moment, I wonder if she chose her task because of my fear of crowds, but I dismiss that notion for concern over what it might entail. I’m…not ready to tell her yet. I don’t want to lose her friendship.
The lift I enter is as noisy as it is swift, causing me to stagger in place as it rockets me upwards a short distance. I come to a stop at the uppermost catwalk, the only thing between me and a [100 m] drop being a grated walkway. Thankfully, despite all the things I do have, I don’t possess a fear of heights. I’m careful to stay in the shadows as I trail behind the Yotul, making sure I’m as hidden as possible. As we go, I notice a small protrusion in the ceiling, a small room with windows looking down over the hangar. Of course, traffic control. Where else would Malcos be but looking over the progress of his operation?
As the Yotul enters the room, I know that I won’t be able to follow him without being spotted. I look around for a moment before I see a vent in the ceiling above me. It’ll be close, but I should just be able to reach up to it if I stand on the railing. Not wanting to waste a [second], I quickly find a corner to climb up on. Once balanced on the railing, I carefully slide my way towards the grate, careful not to let my paws slip. I almost fall once, only barely catching my balance as my heart hammers in my chest, but I manage to make it to the grate. I pop it out of its socket and pull myself up with some difficulty. I hurriedly replace the grate and start crawling through the shaft towards the room.
Thankfully, it’s basically a straight shot from my position to the control room, the sounds of conversation hitting my ears even as far as halfway there. “...glad to see that Vane actually heeded my instructions for once,” a harsh, gravelly, but distinctly Venlil, voice says, their words distorted by echoing through the ventilation shaft. Once I get closer, I can hear much more clearly. “I assume you come bearing tidings of good news, Clemmit?”
“Yes, Vane dispatched me to give you the all clear,” the Yotul says. I think I remember Vane also calling him by that name, which means it must be his. “I still don’t understand why I had to make it all the way here when a digital message would’ve been far faster. I know you’re worried about those journalists, but there’s no way they-”
“Them? No, I’m not concerned about them. Even if they booked the first flight here, they’d be too late,” the harsh-sounding Venlil wrongly assures Clemmit. Only now does it dawn on me who this has to be, shivers shooting down my spine. Malcos.
His fur is silver with age, though I can tell even from here that he hasn’t let that stop his physical prowess save from his left leg. That particular one was in a mobility brace, not dissimilar from Tarlim and Vane’s, albeit holding together far better than the latter example’s are. In addition, long, jagged marks scar his face, no fur growing back to cover the faintly orange flesh beneath. Someone injured him a long time ago.
“No, what I’m worried about is what happened after. The reason I instigated this comms silence is a far more tangible threat. When the Exterminators arrived on the scene, after some workers came running to them about it, they found the warehouse burned to the ground and everyone else dead.”
I couldn’t repress a soft gasp at that sordid realization, but Clemmit’s own was loud enough to cover mine. “You don’t think…?” Clemmit asked, his hackle fur raised in concern. “I mean, after what he did to you-”
“I need no reminders of what that mute freak did to me. I live with them every day,” Malcos explains, gesturing to his leg and facial scars. “The officers took it as the engines igniting a fire after the crash, but I know better. I fear he’s somehow caught onto our trail, likely by riding the tails of those nosy do-gooders. By the state the Exterminators found Kevros’ head in, there’s no doubt in my mind that if we do not leave now, none of us shall live.” I try to soften my breathing as much as possible so I can hear more about what they’re discussing and perform some reconnaissance of the control room.
Malcos gives an agitated huff and whips his head around towards the converted spaceport below, his tail lashing behind him. “I can barely believe how foolish I was to think I could turn that lardball’s bastard child into something more than the tainted man he received his genes from. I still remember how he tried so desperately to sound normal, begging me for that electrolarynx. The only reason I didn’t throw him in with the other diseased was to keep Vane in my good graces, but both that monster’s and his sperm donor’s priorities have since…shifted. I’m sure you’re acquainted with the latter’s alterations quite intimately.”
Clemmit shuffles uncomfortably on his feet as I process that information. Whoever this “mute freak” is that caused the deaths of all the people we left there, they’re also apparently Vane’s child. Given that Lervua didn’t mention him, that means that they’re likely older than her. I’ll need to fill in Sharnet about this afterwards. “Y-Yes, I have. He’s, uh, taken a liking to human foodstuffs. Those with…uh, with cheese especially.”
“I’m well aware of his taint, Clemmit, you have no need to convince me of it. Hopefully that last order of “been and…blugh, and cheese bureetos” will keep him occupied long enough for everything to be packed away. If those irksome journalists fall for the trap, all the better. That simply yields two starchbulbs from one stem.” Malcos’s tone is as cold as space itself, each of his words dripping with a palpable venom.
“Wait- you intend on leaving him here??” Clemmit asks, a confused tone in his voice. In between his words, I swear I can feel sporadic vibrations, but I chalk that up to the spaceport’s ventilation system. “But, what about the local office?? They’re under his payroll! If he catches wind of this-”
“He won’t,” Malcos interrupts, holding a finger up as he turns his head to look at the Yotul with his piercing gaze. I can now clearly feel vibrations through the vent and hear the rattling of the catwalks, along with what sounds like a dying conditioning…oh speh. “Nothing short of Vane coming here himself will change that fact, and even then only if you prefer a hole through your head, Clemmit. Besides, it’s not like that blithering fatass will be able to drag himself away from h-”
The door to the control room thunks open, and an all too familiar wheezing noise fills the room. Clemmit turns to the sounds surprised, whereas Malcos has a look of shock etched on his gnarled face. From the entrance, the bloated form of Vane waddles in, panting and wheezing profusely as he tries desperately to say something. Two guards come from the corners of the room to try and stop him, but Malcos curtly waves them down. “S-Sir!” Clemmit cries, rushing to Vane’s side to keep up appearances. He guides the obese Venlil to a couple of dusty control seats to sit him down, much to Malcos’ visible annoyance.
“You- What are you Doing Here?!” Malcos hisses at the panting blob, his own mobility brace whirring in a much more healthy manner compared to the puffs and sparks emanating from the ‘ambassador’s.’ “You are supposed to be at your manor keeping watch for the journalists!! What in the brahking Herd are you doing away from your post??”
Vane is unable to respond for a moment more as he continues to huff and wheeze, but understandable words eventually emit from his gullet. “S-Solgalick! Th-They -wheeze- they’ve damned me!! Y-You -haff- you have to get me -huff- off-world now!!”
“Wh-Solgalick?? Have you lost what little remains of your mind?!” Malcos questions incredulously before his ears perk up and he starts to whistle. “Oh my, it would seem that your diet finally caused you to have a stroke. About time, really. You made me lose a bet regarding its timing many rotations ago.”
“It’s -hrff- it’s real!!” Vane protests, Clemmit looking between the two uncertainly. “T-There was a voice and- and this light and everything! At the -puff- a-at the Governor’s Kitchen! I-I head Them! Everyone heard them! The whole restaurant!!” I barely suppress a whistle at how gullible Vane is, to fall for our ruse so easily. If it was one, anyways. However, Malcos doesn’t respond. He refuses to for a concerning amount of time, almost like he’s thinking. “H-Hello?!” Vane asks, waving his paw in front of his face. “Malcos, now is not the time to play statue!”
Upon that quip, a low, menacing whistle escapes Malcos’ throat, which grows into a hearty guffaw. Malcos and Clemmit look as confused as I feel, but I can tell that this laugh isn’t for any good reason. Once he settles, Malcos takes a long inhale before addressing Vane again. “...They’ve arrived, haven’t they?” Vane tries to respond, but Malcos slaps a nearby console with his tail to silence him. “That was rhetorical. If you’re here and ranting about Solgalick, that means you couldn’t enjoy your bounty for some reason, some reason I believe we all know.”
“But- that’s impossible!” Clemmit protests, standing from his inspection of Vane’s battered braces. “I left not even an eighth-claw ago, and the incident wasn’t even a full claw ago! Ther-” He’s about to continue, but Vane stops him, flicking his ears somberly to convey what he and Malcos both somehow know.
“That hasn’t stopped them before. They have a knack with arriving early, if you remember the readings from that old lumber mill. Somehow, some way, they’re in Scorched Sands, and you left them in your manor all alone, didn’t you Vane?” Malcos turns towards Vane, his mere presence sapping the warmth from my body. “You left them, unsupervised, when you’re well aware of the kinds of stunts they’ve pulled before.”
Vane tries to speak, but can’t get anything out from between his chubby cheeks. Malcos scoffs, and approaches him. “You do understand what that might allow them to do, yes?” He leaned in close to Vane, his eye mere [millimeters] away from Vane’s. “Escape, Vane. You have likely allowed them. To. Escape.” He then places his paws on Vane’s braces, and with a swift motion, does something to them. Whatever it was, the braces unlatch and quickly explode off of Vane’s compressed thighs with a stiff hiss. Vane yelps and Clemmit steps back as Malcos steps back, his tail swaying smugly behind him. “That is not a luxury I will afford you, Magister Vane. Clemmit, you are to keep watch over him, call the Exterminators, and ensure he stays here until they arrive. You will take the blame for this operation, Vane, as was intended from the beginning.”
“Wh- y- how dare you?!” Vane sputters, trying to stand but failing entirely without the aid of his braces. “I am an Ambassador! This is an outrage! Conspiracy! You have no right to speak to me in th-”
“Unless you wish for your pathetic life to be extinguished here and now, I would highly suggest you choose your next words very carefully, Magister,” Malcos says, a hint of glee in his voice upon finally telling Vane off to his face. “Heh, I wonder if this office will collapse like so many others once Tarva finally breaks the news,” Malcos whistles to himself whilst pacing around the room. “Perhaps you’ll be lucky enough to be incinerated along with the few containers of drugs we’ll leave. At least then you won’t be caught up in the madness about to swallow this planet. I anticipate the fires that will engulf the most fervent towns will make even Solgalick Themselves blu…sh…”
Malcos trails off and grows unnaturally quiet as Clemmit starts to quietly collect the separated halves of Vane’s mobility devices. I make sure that I’m as silent as possible as the weathered Venlil stares out the window to the cavernous expanse below. I can hear my own heartbeat as the [seconds] drag on, everyone present waiting for Malcos to return to life. Then, suddenly, Maclos turns to Vane, Clemmit, and his guards, the skin visible through his scars pale as he mutters two simple words that make my heart drop.
“They’re Here.”
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Introduction: Unlocking Focus with Biblical Wisdom

Have you ever felt like your days are spiraling into chaos, teeming with distractions that derail your focus? In our rapid, digital-age lifestyle, maintaining concentration can sometimes seem like a Herculean task. Yet, what if the ancient wisdom of the Bible held the keys to not only reclaiming our focus but enhancing it beyond our imagination? This exploration dives deep into the Scriptures, uncovering practical and profound ways to harness focus in our daily lives. Get ready to unlock divine strategies that stand the test of time!

The Power of Purpose: Discover Your God-Given Focus

At the core of biblical teaching is the acknowledgment of a purpose-driven life. Understanding and aligning with our God-given purpose is the first monumental step toward achieving laser-like focus. Jeremiah 29:11 reminds us, “For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the LORD, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”

• **Identify Your Calling:** Spend time in prayer and reflection, asking God to reveal His specific plans and purposes for your life.
• **Set Goals Aligned with Biblical Principles:** Let your ambitions reflect values such as love, integrity, and service.
• **Stay Committed:** Pursue your God-given purpose with diligence, trusting that He will direct your path (Proverbs 3:5-6).

Minding Your Mind: Cultivate a Focused Mindset

Our thoughts often dictate our level of focus. Philippians 4:8 instructs us, “Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things.” By filling our minds with what is good, we create an environment conducive to focus.

1. **Meditate on Scripture:** Start your day by meditating on empowering Bible verses.
2. **Practice Gratitude:** Maintain a journal to count your blessings, focusing on the positive aspects of your life.
3. **Eliminate Negative Influences:** Determine what drains your focus, whether it’s certain activities or toxic relationships, and minimize these influences.

Embracing Solitude: The Jesus Way to Recharge and Refocus

Even Jesus recognized the importance of solitude. Before making important decisions or after significant events, He would retreat to quiet places to pray and focus (Mark 1:35). Embracing solitude as Jesus did can incredibly boost our mental clarity and focus.

• **Schedule Quiet Time:** Prioritize periods of silence in your day to pray, reflect, or simply breathe.
• **Find Your Solitude Space:** Identify a peaceful spot where you can be alone with God without distractions.
• **Utilize Technology Wisely:** Use apps for guided Bible reading and meditation but ensure to have tech-free times as well.

Community and Accountability: Sharpening Your Focus Together

Proverbs 27:17 states, “As iron sharpens iron, so one person sharpens another.” We are not meant to journey alone. Engaging with a community of faith can provide both support and accountability, helping us maintain our focus on what truly matters.

1. **Join a Bible Study Group:** There’s power in studying the Word together, gaining various insights and perspectives.
2. **Seek Out Mentors:** Find individuals who exemplify a focused, purpose-driven life and learn from their wisdom.
3. **Be an Accountability Partner:** Team up with a friend to keep each other on track with your spiritual and personal goals.

Conclusion: Your Focus is Your Future

Finding and maintaining focus is not merely about boosting productivity or achieving earthly success. It’s about living a purposeful, God-honoring life. By incorporating these biblical principles into our daily routine, we not only enhance our focus but also align closer with our divine purpose. Dive into Scripture, seek clarity in solitude, engage in meaningful community, and watch as your focus transforms your life, illuminating your path towards a future filled with hope and God’s unfathomable blessings.
Ready to refocus your life? Start today by asking God to renew your mind and guide your steps. Your journey of focused living according to divine principles begins now. Embrace it!
If you want to want to research more Bible Answers on your own, please try our Bible Answers GPT. It’s easy to get lost in the interesting responses you’ll find… every search is like a new treasure hunt 🙂
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England UK - Can anyone check if my letter is okay for a cease and desist to my neighbour over ‘nuisance’
Summary: New neighbour moved in 5 months ago. Since moving in made impact noises after 11pm-3am, dog barking on/off daily after 11pm-3am, let excess dog mess build up 40+ in garden, tied rope to my fence panel to keep their door open and damaged it.
I have spoke to neighbour 3 times over the first 3 months regarding the issues but ignored me, I contacted their landlord by letter of complaint, they passed it to a housing agency who handles their tenants/rent. I have notified their agent of behaviours and said I’ve no choice but to notify the council regarding noise and dog mess and notify police for criminal damage on fence, agent said they contact them to stop. But has continued?
I wish to send a cease and desist letter now as council cannot help and advice legal action myself, still waiting to hear about police matter.
My letter is:- ————————————————
Re: Cease and desist demand
Dear Occupiers
Owing to the continued nuisance including damages from your property, the Council/Police have advised should this go to court, I should formally write to all the people residing at [ENTER THEIR ADDRESS]
First requesting that you cease and desist from continued excessive dog fowling in garden to large quantities, continued damaging our fence panel and continued noise nuisance in the evenings with immediate effect.
I been advised if the nuisance listed does not cease, when the case goes to court, the court will be aware that we requested the nuisance to stop. Your landlord, Housing agency, Local Council and Police have been notified your actions and forwarded to yourselves, but you continued to ignore this request and you therefore cannot claim that you did not know your behaviour was a nuisance. You should be aware that your continued collection of nuisances has become unbearable.
I write to give legal notice of cease and desist of actions described below:-
1) Excessive dog fowling (excrement) building up to large quantities in garden. Reasons to stop this excess amount of dog fowling to collect in large quantities is altogether causing foul odours, attracting excessive flies to enter our property and the excess mess left behind is attraction for rat infestation. A record has already been made attention to yourselves by your local Council reference [ENTER NUMBERS] and notification to your housing agency on 22/03/24 regarding this excess dog fowling mess building up and the problems it causes. They instructed your be notified by email to remove, yet it has continued.
2) Damaged/damaging to garden fence property line using our fence to tie up your rear property door open.
Reasons to stop this as I have already had to try make minor repairs to our fence line as your rope/strap used to keep your door open is causing unnecessary tension stress/strain on the fence panel being pulled back and breaking it apart, if continued the whole fence panel will eventually fall apart as the repair is only so much. Your housing agency was notified on 12/04/24 as instructed by yourselves on 15/03/24 to report and forward any complaints to your Housing agent.
Regarding the damaged caused and that I would try repair the minor damage, I stated that it would need to stop as continued use would damage the fence entirely. Your agent informed me they emailed yourselves regarding this issue to stop, yet has continued beyond 2 weeks since it was reported to yourselves. Since then, has undone any repair and caused further damage. The matter has now been reported to Police under 'damaged property' crime reference [ENTER NUMBER]
3) Dog barking/impact noises excessive late night/early hours. Reasons to stop as the noise is so loud it can be clearly heard in my property and is stopping (me) (partner) from getting to sleep at night. I have gathered video evidence over the last 2-3 months to support this. I have already notified yourselves 3 times over the months regarding the noise. You were first notified on 20/01/24, notified again on 02/03/24 and again on 13/03/24 this in turn prompted it to be reported to local Council on 26/02/24 reference [ENTER NUMBER](excessive dog barking) reference number [ENTER NUMBER] (excessive impact noises after 11pm) and a recorded letter sent to your landlord on 26/02/24. You have been notified since 20/01/24, your housing agency has notified you on 13/03/24 regarding the issue to stop, yet has continued.
This will serve as your legal notice to cease and desist all further actions described above.
I may use recording devices to document.
Please note your behaviour is a violation of Section 82 - Environmental Protection Act 1990 and Section 1(1) CDA 1971 - Criminal Damage Act 1971
Yours sincerely ———————————————-

I've always been fascinated by the inner workings of biology, especially when it comes to how life creates its building blocks. So, let's talk macromolecules! These bad boys are the large molecules essential for life, like proteins, nucleic acids, carbs, and lipids. But how are they made?
Picture this: it's like a culinary masterpiece in the cell's kitchen, with enzymes as the master chefs. Take proteins, for example. It's a bit like stringing beads. Ribosomes, the protein factories, read instructions from DNA (the cookbook) and string together amino acids (the beads) to make a protein chain.
Nucleic acids, such as DNA and RNA, have their own recipe. They're made through a process called polymerization, where nucleotides (the ingredients) are linked together by enzymes.
Carbs and lipids have their own unique synthesis pathways too. From glucose chains to fatty acid tails, the cell has it all under control.
Understanding how these macromolecules are synthesized is like peeking behind the curtain of life itself. So, who else finds this stuff mind-blowing? Let's dive into the science together!

Something is following me. I swear I can hear them at night outside my tent. I went on this solo seven-day hike, and it wasn't until the third day that I noticed something amiss. When I woke and exited my tent, my small makeshift camp looked as if it had been ransacked, my supplies had been scattered, the small firepit I made had been destroyed as though a large beast had stepped on it. The scariest part was the footprints left behind; they were all over my camp. They circled the tent dozens of times and seemed to come to rest at the door before heading away into the woods.
I hadn't heard anything while I slept and assumed it was just some other hikers playing a trick on me. After I gathered my scattered supplies, I started back down the trail. The hike I was on was a remote and technically difficult hike that even the most seasoned hikers would have trouble accomplishing.
Which is what made me confused; why would experienced hikers do something like that to my camp? Most hikers took this sport seriously; ruining supplies could be a quick way to dying from exposure.
That day I hiked long and far, taking switchbacks and pausing for minutes at a time to watch the trail behind me. The mountain was empty; I even removed some of my footprints in the dirt hoping to make it harder to track me.
That night, I packed all my supplies in my tent and waited. Certain that no one would have been able to follow me. I gripped my flashlight in one hand and lay down in my sleeping bag waiting, waiting for a sound or a noise out of the normal sounds of the world.
That's when I heard it, a twig snapping, a rustle of a bush, a rock being kicked and rolling across the ground. Tension shot through my body and I froze, unable to move. My original plan was to rip open the tent door and shine the light in my would-be stalker's face, but the sounds I heard made me lock up.
This wasn't the sound of humans; I saw no lights, and heard no boots. Instead, it was the shuffle of something bestial, a large bear, or a wolf pack.
Instantly the sounds grew closer and I thought it had to be more than one animal, circling the tent, pawing at the ground, breathing heavy and hoarse. A small sound coming from the back of a throat that sounded like a throaty, demented version of a laugh. "Hyuk hyuk" was the noise they made as they circled the tent, never coming close enough to touch or even graze it.
Fear struck me hard and fast, and my first reaction was to curl up in my sleeping bag, as if hiding from the world was the ultimate defense. Like a little kid defending himself from the monsters under the bed. Now I protected myself from the monsters outside my tent.
The motion outside the tent exploded as the pace increased; the demented laughing was now coming from all sides and I covered my ears trying to block out the noise before it drove me mad.
Then like a breeze in the wind, they were gone. The sounds slipped away into the night and the torment stopped. My breath fell from my chest in what felt like minutes. I was terrified, and rightly so. Being alone on this mountain was always a bad idea; hikers went missing here all the time. I had just assumed they were inexperienced and got lost but now I knew it was something more, something terrifyingly real.
I didn't sleep that night; I just lay awake unable to leave the tent for fear of their return. For the fear that they were waiting out there quietly for me to slip up and leave.
When dawn's rays crested the hill to the east and bathed my tent in God's eternal light, I prayed for the first time in years. Normally I'm not one for religious zealotry, but I fell to my knees in that morning light and begged with tears in my eyes for any of the gods to save me. To take me from this mountain but nothing responded to my desperate plea. Now I felt truly alone.
The camp was a mess; the ground was torn up by dozens of odd footprints. They overlapped so much that I couldn't get an accurate shape to one, but they were deep prints indicating weight.
"Larger than a dog at least," I said to myself as I traced my fingers in one of the prints.
I glanced around the camp and saw the prints leading off back down the mountain, the way I had come. I was already more than halfway through the hike and it would take longer to go back the way I had come. Once I reached the peak I could make my way down the opposite side and to the parking lot where my truck was. By my calculation, it was around three more days, two more nights. I could make it.
I hiked hard and fast that day and made great time. The mountain ended in a plateau and I rested for only a moment. Normally I would spend the day at the top, find a nice place to camp, and bask in the world from my seat up high. Today I left instantly, glancing only for moments to check my path. I could see my truck far below in the parking lot. The way down was a rocky path that normally I wouldn't attempt but this was an emergency.
The sun was getting low, and I needed to find a place to camp. As I reached the edge of the woods I paused watching the sun as it fell faster and faster. A small clearing lay out before me full of long grass. To my back were tall sturdy trees with lots of branches in odd angles, like they were protecting me from the beasts that lurk behind me.
I decided to set up my tent in the clearing, a few feet from the trees, next to a fallen tree with its large mass of roots exposed to the night sky.
I kept looking over my shoulder as I worked, knowing these creatures only came at night. Sweat beaded down my neck and I took a moment when I was done to drink and eat quickly from my pack. I gathered a large amount of wood from the trees and used some of my emergency lighter fluid to start a large cooking fire outside the tent. With enough wood to burn for hours.
An idea struck me while I ate and watched the trees. Taking my flashlight and gear I made for the trees and climbed high up. Among the branches, I found a secure spot where I could sit comfortably and better yet where I could watch my tent.
For an hour I sat in terrified silence, my heart beating out of my chest as I tried to calm myself. Maybe they wouldn't come tonight, maybe I had made it far enough away they wouldn't be able to find me.
That's when the noise started, a twig snapping, the rustle of a bush behind me, the careful steps of something coming closer and closer. I hugged tightly to the tree keeping myself hidden from sight below.
My eye was on my tent, making sure that whatever was doing this to me. Tonight I would see them in the firelight of my camp below.
The grass below my perch was now covered in darkness, but I could hear something moving in the grass. I held my breath hoping to avoid detection. The creatures moved past me with no hesitation.
I watched as shadows moved in the darkness below, too many of them to count in the poor light. They surrounded the tent and fire, silent as they moved. When one of them made that same noise from the back of their throat. "Hyuk hyuk" it went and as if on signal, the campfire was scattered, lit logs rolled and flew away as if something had swatted it with a giant hand. I could see bits of brown fur in the descending firelight. A large muscular paw, a hind leg. All covered in the same brown fur. Once the dark fell, they began their pacing, tearing up the ground around the camp. Their back of the throat laughing and I could hear my tent tearing. Deep growls of inhuman noise and heavy breathing for hours. They never left; they searched the same ground over and over again as if blind until an hour before dawn they quietly slunk away back up the mountain towards the peak.
I hadn't slept at all again and was feeling exhausted. My legs felt weak, and I slid down the last few feet of the tree landing hard on my back.
I lay there breathing heavy as the sun from the morning sun bathed me in warm life-saving light. My tent had been shredded to pieces and I now had no doubt in my mind that they were hunting me. Blood was on the ground beside the fire where it looked like something had happened. Maybe the creatures had a fight amongst themselves during the night.
I sighed examining my tent, dropping the piece of it I held, I turned and made my way down the rocky trail. Gone were the lush trees and long grass of the peak and once more I plunged into the rocky and steep trail to the base.
The trail was slow-going as I climbed down rock faces and had to backtrack several times to find a different path down. I could not spend one more night in this place; far below I could see my old red pickup in the parking lot. Within my vision but still so far away, if I had a base jumping kit, I could be down there in minutes instead of hours.
At various spots, I had to anchor with ropes that had been placed by previous climbers. I praised them and their families with good fortune as this put a large distance between me and the beasts.
I traveled through the day and resolved myself to continue through the night, with no tent or cover I would be torn to shreds by the beasts.
As the sun began to set, I doubled my pace, I knew somewhere along here was the rappel site. A place with hundreds of feet of strong rope for you to descend the final drop. After that is a short five-minute walk to the truck.
I couldn't find the rappel spot, I knew it had to be around here somewhere but I seemed to be lost, I had seen the rappel spot from my truck but now that I was on the mountain, I could have missed it in the dusk's light.
I knew I had to backtrack slightly and made my way back up the mountain. Fear struck me again knowing the beasts were coming.
As I climbed, I saw a bright green rope hanging from a series of anchors in the rock. I attached my harness and walked backward off the rock. This is something I had done dozens of times and I made good time. Halfway down I rested for a moment as the sun set behind me. That's when I felt it, something pulling on the rope above.
It jerked and began swinging side to side. I dropped slightly before I felt something pulling me back up the mountain. I began to rappel with increased fervor and dropped down the mountain faster than I ever had before. I reached the bottom but noticed the rope had shortened around twenty feet and was slowly getting higher. The ground below was rocky and rough but I had no choice. I unclipped myself from the line and dropped quickly to the ground.
I landed awkwardly on a stone with my left leg and felt my ankle twist awkwardly. I screamed out in pain as my leg burned.
Despite this, I smiled, I had escaped. The beasts weren't going to catch me now. I could see my red pickup truck down the hill and rose to my feet.
The pain was intense but I kept going knowing this was my only chance. Behind me, I heard the impossible, the sound of rocks being scattered as something heavy landed. I dared not glance over my shoulder but doubled my pace.
I could hear heavy breathing and movement behind me, a small glade of young trees lay directly in front of me and I ducked into the thin branches for any sort of cover from the relentless pursuer.
"Hyuk hyuk" came from behind me, and I froze, letting the foliage cover my body from sight. I barely dared to breathe as I heard the branches snapping around me; I could smell the foul breath of the beast as I crouched in a thin shield of branches and foliage, a poor armor indeed.
Heavy breathing came closer and closer to me until it was right beside my ear. The back of the throat laugh came out right beside my ear, making fear shoot up my spine paralyzing me to the spot.
This was it, the end. Whatever this creature was it was going to kill me. I chanced a glance in its direction and stared right into its repulsive face. It bore a resemblance to a shaved wolf with its skin pulled back, a large mouth filled with rows of dangerously sharp teeth, and a large brown nose like a dog's. Saliva dripped from its open mouth as it breathed in air in ragged breathes.
The oddest part was its eyes, they were all white and filled with clouds. Almost as if the creature was blind. I sat perfectly still as the creature was within feet of me. It had a hunched back almost human but it moved on all fours like an animal. The creature smelled at the air briefly before growling and moving away through the foliage. Making the hyuk hyuk sound as it left as if it were mocking my fear of it.
The creature couldn't see; I assumed it reacted to movement, sound, or smell. Perhaps all three.
As the creature moved away, I quietly limped in the opposite direction towards my truck. Finally, I was in the parking lot and into my truck. I locked the doors behind me and lay down on the seat, breathing for a moment. Planning my next move, with a jerk, I started the truck and my old faithful girl turned on in a single stroke.
I flicked on my headlights as my heart stopped. In front of my truck was a dozen or so of the beasts, all crouched over, their eyes a milky pale unseeing. As my headlights hit their eyes, the beasts changed. They covered their eyes in pain and I put the truck into drive. As I stepped on the gas, I realized my mistake, the fire that one night in the tree. The way they attacked it. With a smash, I felt one of them ram into my tailgate. I sped off down the road, swerving to avoid them.
In my rearview mirror, I could see them chasing me down the dark mountain road and I sped up keeping ahead of them. My ankle throbbed painfully but I felt nothing as my adrenaline peaked again and again as my fear warped into new things by the moment.
The last thing I saw was their pale eyes in the darkness as I turned the corner onto the highway, by the time I saw other cars and people I knew I was safe I drove nonstop for hours until I made it back to my place. The sun was just about to set as I locked the door behind me. I breathed a sigh of relief and poured myself a glass of scotch to calm my nerves.
I fell against my bed and took a sip of my drink before I lay back in the blankets, exhausted from my flight and the creatures chasing me. I fell asleep in minutes.
I woke in the middle of the night to something outside my house; it sounded like something rubbing up against my front door. My heart froze as I thought of what could be out there, a slight knocking at the door, just loud enough for me to hear before a sound that chilled me to my bones. A deep laugh coming from the back of someone's throat. "Hyuk hyuk" it went.

Something is following me. I swear I can hear them at night outside my tent. I went on this solo seven-day hike, and it wasn't until the third day that I noticed something amiss. When I woke and exited my tent, my small makeshift camp looked as if it had been ransacked, my supplies had been scattered, the small firepit I made had been destroyed as though a large beast had stepped on it. The scariest part was the footprints left behind; they were all over my camp. They circled the tent dozens of times and seemed to come to rest at the door before heading away into the woods.
I hadn't heard anything while I slept and assumed it was just some other hikers playing a trick on me. After I gathered my scattered supplies, I started back down the trail. The hike I was on was a remote and technically difficult hike that even the most seasoned hikers would have trouble accomplishing.
Which is what made me confused; why would experienced hikers do something like that to my camp? Most hikers took this sport seriously; ruining supplies could be a quick way to dying from exposure.
That day I hiked long and far, taking switchbacks and pausing for minutes at a time to watch the trail behind me. The mountain was empty; I even removed some of my footprints in the dirt hoping to make it harder to track me.
That night, I packed all my supplies in my tent and waited. Certain that no one would have been able to follow me. I gripped my flashlight in one hand and lay down in my sleeping bag waiting, waiting for a sound or a noise out of the normal sounds of the world.
That's when I heard it, a twig snapping, a rustle of a bush, a rock being kicked and rolling across the ground. Tension shot through my body and I froze, unable to move. My original plan was to rip open the tent door and shine the light in my would-be stalker's face, but the sounds I heard made me lock up.
This wasn't the sound of humans; I saw no lights, and heard no boots. Instead, it was the shuffle of something bestial, a large bear, or a wolf pack.
Instantly the sounds grew closer and I thought it had to be more than one animal, circling the tent, pawing at the ground, breathing heavy and hoarse. A small sound coming from the back of a throat that sounded like a throaty, demented version of a laugh. "Hyuk hyuk" was the noise they made as they circled the tent, never coming close enough to touch or even graze it.
Fear struck me hard and fast, and my first reaction was to curl up in my sleeping bag, as if hiding from the world was the ultimate defense. Like a little kid defending himself from the monsters under the bed. Now I protected myself from the monsters outside my tent.
The motion outside the tent exploded as the pace increased; the demented laughing was now coming from all sides and I covered my ears trying to block out the noise before it drove me mad.
Then like a breeze in the wind, they were gone. The sounds slipped away into the night and the torment stopped. My breath fell from my chest in what felt like minutes. I was terrified, and rightly so. Being alone on this mountain was always a bad idea; hikers went missing here all the time. I had just assumed they were inexperienced and got lost but now I knew it was something more, something terrifyingly real.
I didn't sleep that night; I just lay awake unable to leave the tent for fear of their return. For the fear that they were waiting out there quietly for me to slip up and leave.
When dawn's rays crested the hill to the east and bathed my tent in God's eternal light, I prayed for the first time in years. Normally I'm not one for religious zealotry, but I fell to my knees in that morning light and begged with tears in my eyes for any of the gods to save me. To take me from this mountain but nothing responded to my desperate plea. Now I felt truly alone.
The camp was a mess; the ground was torn up by dozens of odd footprints. They overlapped so much that I couldn't get an accurate shape to one, but they were deep prints indicating weight.
"Larger than a dog at least," I said to myself as I traced my fingers in one of the prints.
I glanced around the camp and saw the prints leading off back down the mountain, the way I had come. I was already more than halfway through the hike and it would take longer to go back the way I had come. Once I reached the peak I could make my way down the opposite side and to the parking lot where my truck was. By my calculation, it was around three more days, two more nights. I could make it.
I hiked hard and fast that day and made great time. The mountain ended in a plateau and I rested for only a moment. Normally I would spend the day at the top, find a nice place to camp, and bask in the world from my seat up high. Today I left instantly, glancing only for moments to check my path. I could see my truck far below in the parking lot. The way down was a rocky path that normally I wouldn't attempt but this was an emergency.
The sun was getting low, and I needed to find a place to camp. As I reached the edge of the woods I paused watching the sun as it fell faster and faster. A small clearing lay out before me full of long grass. To my back were tall sturdy trees with lots of branches in odd angles, like they were protecting me from the beasts that lurk behind me.
I decided to set up my tent in the clearing, a few feet from the trees, next to a fallen tree with its large mass of roots exposed to the night sky.
I kept looking over my shoulder as I worked, knowing these creatures only came at night. Sweat beaded down my neck and I took a moment when I was done to drink and eat quickly from my pack. I gathered a large amount of wood from the trees and used some of my emergency lighter fluid to start a large cooking fire outside the tent. With enough wood to burn for hours.
An idea struck me while I ate and watched the trees. Taking my flashlight and gear I made for the trees and climbed high up. Among the branches, I found a secure spot where I could sit comfortably and better yet where I could watch my tent.
For an hour I sat in terrified silence, my heart beating out of my chest as I tried to calm myself. Maybe they wouldn't come tonight, maybe I had made it far enough away they wouldn't be able to find me.
That's when the noise started, a twig snapping, the rustle of a bush behind me, the careful steps of something coming closer and closer. I hugged tightly to the tree keeping myself hidden from sight below.
My eye was on my tent, making sure that whatever was doing this to me. Tonight I would see them in the firelight of my camp below.
The grass below my perch was now covered in darkness, but I could hear something moving in the grass. I held my breath hoping to avoid detection. The creatures moved past me with no hesitation.
I watched as shadows moved in the darkness below, too many of them to count in the poor light. They surrounded the tent and fire, silent as they moved. When one of them made that same noise from the back of their throat. "Hyuk hyuk" it went and as if on signal, the campfire was scattered, lit logs rolled and flew away as if something had swatted it with a giant hand. I could see bits of brown fur in the descending firelight. A large muscular paw, a hind leg. All covered in the same brown fur. Once the dark fell, they began their pacing, tearing up the ground around the camp. Their back of the throat laughing and I could hear my tent tearing. Deep growls of inhuman noise and heavy breathing for hours. They never left; they searched the same ground over and over again as if blind until an hour before dawn they quietly slunk away back up the mountain towards the peak.
I hadn't slept at all again and was feeling exhausted. My legs felt weak, and I slid down the last few feet of the tree landing hard on my back.
I lay there breathing heavy as the sun from the morning sun bathed me in warm life-saving light. My tent had been shredded to pieces and I now had no doubt in my mind that they were hunting me. Blood was on the ground beside the fire where it looked like something had happened. Maybe the creatures had a fight amongst themselves during the night.
I sighed examining my tent, dropping the piece of it I held, I turned and made my way down the rocky trail. Gone were the lush trees and long grass of the peak and once more I plunged into the rocky and steep trail to the base.
The trail was slow-going as I climbed down rock faces and had to backtrack several times to find a different path down. I could not spend one more night in this place; far below I could see my old red pickup in the parking lot. Within my vision but still so far away, if I had a base jumping kit, I could be down there in minutes instead of hours.
At various spots, I had to anchor with ropes that had been placed by previous climbers. I praised them and their families with good fortune as this put a large distance between me and the beasts.
I traveled through the day and resolved myself to continue through the night, with no tent or cover I would be torn to shreds by the beasts.
As the sun began to set, I doubled my pace, I knew somewhere along here was the rappel site. A place with hundreds of feet of strong rope for you to descend the final drop. After that is a short five-minute walk to the truck.
I couldn't find the rappel spot, I knew it had to be around here somewhere but I seemed to be lost, I had seen the rappel spot from my truck but now that I was on the mountain, I could have missed it in the dusk's light.
I knew I had to backtrack slightly and made my way back up the mountain. Fear struck me again knowing the beasts were coming.
As I climbed, I saw a bright green rope hanging from a series of anchors in the rock. I attached my harness and walked backward off the rock. This is something I had done dozens of times and I made good time. Halfway down I rested for a moment as the sun set behind me. That's when I felt it, something pulling on the rope above.
It jerked and began swinging side to side. I dropped slightly before I felt something pulling me back up the mountain. I began to rappel with increased fervor and dropped down the mountain faster than I ever had before. I reached the bottom but noticed the rope had shortened around twenty feet and was slowly getting higher. The ground below was rocky and rough but I had no choice. I unclipped myself from the line and dropped quickly to the ground.
I landed awkwardly on a stone with my left leg and felt my ankle twist awkwardly. I screamed out in pain as my leg burned.
Despite this, I smiled, I had escaped. The beasts weren't going to catch me now. I could see my red pickup truck down the hill and rose to my feet.
The pain was intense but I kept going knowing this was my only chance. Behind me, I heard the impossible, the sound of rocks being scattered as something heavy landed. I dared not glance over my shoulder but doubled my pace.
I could hear heavy breathing and movement behind me, a small glade of young trees lay directly in front of me and I ducked into the thin branches for any sort of cover from the relentless pursuer.
"Hyuk hyuk" came from behind me, and I froze, letting the foliage cover my body from sight. I barely dared to breathe as I heard the branches snapping around me; I could smell the foul breath of the beast as I crouched in a thin shield of branches and foliage, a poor armor indeed.
Heavy breathing came closer and closer to me until it was right beside my ear. The back of the throat laugh came out right beside my ear, making fear shoot up my spine paralyzing me to the spot.
This was it, the end. Whatever this creature was it was going to kill me. I chanced a glance in its direction and stared right into its repulsive face. It bore a resemblance to a shaved wolf with its skin pulled back, a large mouth filled with rows of dangerously sharp teeth, and a large brown nose like a dog's. Saliva dripped from its open mouth as it breathed in air in ragged breathes.
The oddest part was its eyes, they were all white and filled with clouds. Almost as if the creature was blind. I sat perfectly still as the creature was within feet of me. It had a hunched back almost human but it moved on all fours like an animal. The creature smelled at the air briefly before growling and moving away through the foliage. Making the hyuk hyuk sound as it left as if it were mocking my fear of it.
The creature couldn't see; I assumed it reacted to movement, sound, or smell. Perhaps all three.
As the creature moved away, I quietly limped in the opposite direction towards my truck. Finally, I was in the parking lot and into my truck. I locked the doors behind me and lay down on the seat, breathing for a moment. Planning my next move, with a jerk, I started the truck and my old faithful girl turned on in a single stroke.
I flicked on my headlights as my heart stopped. In front of my truck was a dozen or so of the beasts, all crouched over, their eyes a milky pale unseeing. As my headlights hit their eyes, the beasts changed. They covered their eyes in pain and I put the truck into drive. As I stepped on the gas, I realized my mistake, the fire that one night in the tree. The way they attacked it. With a smash, I felt one of them ram into my tailgate. I sped off down the road, swerving to avoid them.
In my rearview mirror, I could see them chasing me down the dark mountain road and I sped up keeping ahead of them. My ankle throbbed painfully but I felt nothing as my adrenaline peaked again and again as my fear warped into new things by the moment.
The last thing I saw was their pale eyes in the darkness as I turned the corner onto the highway, by the time I saw other cars and people I knew I was safe I drove nonstop for hours until I made it back to my place. The sun was just about to set as I locked the door behind me. I breathed a sigh of relief and poured myself a glass of scotch to calm my nerves.
I fell against my bed and took a sip of my drink before I lay back in the blankets, exhausted from my flight and the creatures chasing me. I fell asleep in minutes.
I woke in the middle of the night to something outside my house; it sounded like something rubbing up against my front door. My heart froze as I thought of what could be out there, a slight knocking at the door, just loud enough for me to hear before a sound that chilled me to my bones. A deep laugh coming from the back of someone's throat. "Hyuk hyuk" it went.

This is the story about how me and my best friend were held at gunpoint. 4 years ago, me and my friend, who we will call Bob, were in high school at the time and were on the bowling team. We had just got done with practice and decided we were hungry for some food. it was around 6 pm barely light outside, so we placed a mobile order pickup for McDonalds.
We arrived at the McDonalds and pulled into the mobile parking lot to wait for our food, while me and Bob chatted to pass the time. Bob, who was the driver, decided to turn the truck off and roll the windows down to save some gas. While we continued to wait, all of a sudden we heard someone yelling behind us. Me and Bob looked at each other, and then behind us, trying to find out who this distraught person was. We then saw an African American man walking around menacingly in the parking lot and approaching random people. Finally we heard him yell again, this time understanding that he needs a type C phone charger. Me and Bob start laughing because why is this dude screaming at the top of his lungs: “I NEED A TYPE C CHARGER” It wasn’t funny anymore when we saw him walking towards our truck. He started yelling at me and Bob, getting closer and closer. “Hey you guys in the white truck” I looked at bob and said “do you think he is talking about us” Bob said uh yeah, he was very specific, he is definitely yelling at us. So Bob yells back at this dude to say we don’t have a charger for him. Apparently he didn’t hear us, because then this guy starts sprinting towards our truck from across the parking lot. I told Bob that he better roll up the window before we get mugged. Of course Bob's truck has manual crank up windows, so before he even tries to roll them up, this guy is already standing right by his window.
Now we have a better look at this guy who is bald and tatted up, and is obviously on some sort of drug. His words were spazzing out all over the place, but he looked at Bob and asked him if he was trying to roll up his window. Bob at this point had just given up on the window and had accepted his fate. Now he has to talk to this guy. Bob then replied, no, I was just cranking it up a little bit. Then this guy starts asking for a type c charger again, and i told him that we have iPhones so we don’t have a type c charger. Then he asked us if we could look around in our truck for one. This guy has now asked us 4 times if we had a charger for him, so Bob said, look dude we don’t have one. You will need to ask someone else. And as soon as he said that this guy reaches into the truck through the window and grabs Bob by the chain with one hand, and with his other hand, lifts up his shirt revealing a gun. In a very stern voice he said “Don’t play with me, I have been to prison 2 times - you don’t know who I am” Bob trying not to show fear said, "hey man let’s calm down I don’t want no beef.”
I was sitting in the passenger seat and I didn’t know what to do because there was nothing I could do. Me and Bob have been caught in one of the most vulnerable situations. We knew we were on the bad side of town, but never expected something like this to happen to 2 teenage kids. So I just asked the dude what he needed a charger for in hopes to calm him down. He said that he needed to make a phone call, but his phone was dead. I was thinking to myself why would someone go so far to make a phone call. This guy wasn’t even there to rob us, so Bob said you can use my phone if you need to make a quick call. The guy finally let his shirt down and released Bob's chain to use his phone.This guy then proceeded to make his first phone call, while me and Bob just sat there listening in. We can then hear him talking on the phone saying that he was stuck at McDonald’s and was looking for a ride. This is when me and Bob realized how dangerous of a guy this was. He then said “We are going to rob that bitch Matt tonight and kill him,” Me and Bob at the time were thinking “Why hasn’t our McDonald’s come out yet!” He then hung up the call, only to make a second call to his girlfriend. In this call he tells his girlfriend the plan to rob some guy named Matt, and that it is going down tonight. He then tells her that she needs to pick him up to pursue this plan into action. After minutes of deliberating and arguing with her, he then proclaimed, “Well I'm with these two kids at Mcdonalds and they are going to take me.” Bob and I turned to each other in absolute panic. “How did we get in this situation?”
He hung up the phone with her, turned back to the open truck window and said “can you guys give me a ride” That’s when I pulled the mom card and told him that my mom is expecting me at home right now, it is getting late, and we are just kids. So of course this guy lifted up his shirt yet again and asked again “I said can you guys give me a ride?” Bob then finally gave in. The guy attempted to try to hop inside of our single cab truck, when Bob said, “We do not have room in here.” In which the guy said, whatever, I will lay down in the bed. Unexpectedly he then throws a gallon size ziploc bag filled with ounces of weed and other illegal items into the cabin of my truck which spilled and exploded everywhere like a flower bomb, “And oh yeah, if you guys try to leave, I took a picture of your license plate.” he stated.
We were getting framed. We were two innocent kids only looking to get our Mcdonalds and go home for the night to play video games. Finally our McDonalds food arrived, but obviously too late. This guy really had the audacity to grab the food from the McDonald’s employee while proceeding to chow down on the food that we had paid for. I guess he wanted a pre-robbery snack. The guy then takes Bob’s phone to type in the address to the location, the place where we are going to rob some guy named matt. He then hopped in the bed of the truck with my phone and the McDonalds food. Bob rolled his window up all the way and looked at me asking what we should do next. I said well, if we want to live, we should probably do as he says. Bob suggested we call the cops, but I told him it wouldn’t look good if the cops found the one pound of illegal subtances in our truck. There was no other option. Bob then backs out of the parking space after hearing his bluetooth radio begin instructing the location. “Your destination is 15 minutes away,” It said. Here we go. We can not believe this is actually happening. Today we are officially criminals. On the way to the robbery, me and bob began praying out loud for a miracle to happen. We genuinely believed we were going to die. I could see Bob visiblly shaking while gripping the steering wheel. We even made remarks to each other saying that this was the end. During the drive, we were stopped at a red light, and lo and behold, a police officer right next to us.
This was our way out. All we had to do was signal to the cop of our dangerous situation. Only thing is, we believed that the guy in the back of our truck was so unhinged, that if we were to get stopped, our situation would only worsen. Would the cops believe us? If not, our lives were ruined. Or even worse, would the guy shoot at the cop? Our thoughts spiraled through a million different outcomes while we were still in a state of shock. As we get closer and closer to the destination, the guy in the back of my truck yells for me to roll my window down to give me closer directions. We began slowly coasting through probably the most ghetto location in my city. It was a one way street with cars jam packed on each side of the road.
He tells us to slow down, as we don’t want to miss the spot. He is on the phone at this very moment with his friend, who was meeting us here. I look in my rear view mirror and see his friend, who was in a dark low rider trailing behind us. We tell him that we are going to let him hop out now, and the guy said no, I want you to pull into this parking lot right here. I looked at bob and was like man we are going to die. This really is the end. So bob pulled up into the parking lot connected to these worn down apartments. I noticed that there was an empty parking spot that was close to the main road, and suggested to Bob to park in that one. This parking spot was several feet above the road, with a huge dip off. Bob finally parks the truck so the guy can hop out. He came to my side of the truck which was the passenger side, opened the door and says - “Okay guys here is the plan. I’m going to rob this person real quick and y’all are my getaway. If you try to leave, well I will find you, and I will kill you, as he stuck a handful of my McDonalds fries into his mouth.
He then said to us that we will be lucky to leave with our lives tonight, as this could get messy. At least we didn’t have to go inside with him, as I think he even suggested that we go with him. I have never been so scared in my life. We did not know how this was going to go, as we have never been in such a situation before. The guy then pulled out his gun, and started heading towards the apartments. As soon as he made it only 5 feet away from us, I swiftly slammed my door and told Bob, “GO GO GO!” with no second thought. Pedal to the floor, he ramped the 2 foot curb with his lifted truck and big tires, bounced onto the road, and peeled out of there. We didn’t even look back, not even once. The adrenaline rush we felt in that moment made us hit 70 miles per hour for a good 5 blocks, as we had no clue where we were even going. What we did know is we were free. Finally free. We were screaming out in joy together.
Now we had to worry about this weed that was spilled in nearly every corner and crack of the interior of my vehicle, and not getting caught before we did so. But we just kept driving. We were still worried about that guy finding us. We considered reporting him to the police, as we had a picture of him from when he previously logged into Facebook to make his phone calls. It then finally hit us. Remember when he said he snapped a picture of our license plate? We finally realized after thinking more clearly, that there was no way for him to track us because his phone was dead. How were we so stupid to not think of that. Anyways, we finally found a dumpster in a dark alleyway to dispose of the illegal items. That is when everything really kicked in. That is how fast a normal day can go to a life threatening situation. We finally made it home and swore to never tell our parents. To this day, we don’t know wether or not he is still looking for us, but you can bet for a week straight we didn’t leave the house.

I have a love/hate relationship with Contrast Paints and Wraithbone primer. I wanted to use them to just get some quick skin tones down for a mini game, but they always seem to dry so quickly for me, which leads to splotches. So I used Wraithbone spray which I read was more satin to let the Contrast paint flow better. But my Pro Acryl paints were beading up on the Wraithbone when applied which was annoying. So I guess I’m trying to decide if the Wraithbone is too big of a hassle to use, and if Contrast paints really perform better with it. Also, I keep seeing conflicting instructions online about avoiding the splotches: some say apply in thin applications, others claim heavier is better. 🤷🏻‍♂️

it’s hitting me even more in college. i’ve rewrote this story a thousand times on different subreddits dedicated to college support and got torn to SHREDS. if feel like never talking to any professor again and i keep fucking up.
i had a pretty difficult time with all my classes this semester and i was stressed beyond words. i was so preoccupied with physical therapy, averaging 2 doctors appointments each week, and 5 classes this semester to juggle. also having to deal with helping my family out through mourning and family therapy. i even had to negotiate with my PT to just do it once a week instead of 3 times a week. i was told by my advisor to take this class called “chinatowns in the americas” cause it as an easy a and i don’t have to worry and take it online.
doing this online was my first mistake. i could hardly focus in the class and had PT the exact same day. i was left in a lot of pain after the sessions and spent most of the time in class finishing up homework for that class instead of actually listening. fast forward to the end of the semester im late on an assignment and agreed to have a private zoom call with her to discuss the instructions. i could tell she was agitated and angry with me so already got nervous. the late assignment was a site report about any building or monument in chinatown. i chose my doctors office cause in nyc, buildings are multi purpose and the building had a rich history within the medical feild. she said that’s great! but then gave me a twisted look and asked “how do you know it’s in chinatown though”
i froze and deep down i wanted to say it’s because of predominant use of mandarin and cantonese but i was trying to read her body language and thought she was trying have a gotcha moment so instead i said the vibes of lower manhattan and chinatown are pretty different and she… did not like that answer obviously. she then went on to say the vibes are different for a reason which is segregation and racism. i felt really bad about it and after apologized and asked reddit for help and advice on how to word things better but i got RIPPED to shreds. i got called a lazy ignorant fetishist who deserves to fail the class. i had the understanding of a 6yr old and i was a shitty student for not caring for the class as much as others. they said i was playing the victim and i need to drop out and transfer to an all online school since im disabled and have a hard time in college. no matter how i tried to explain it i kept getting downvoted to oblivion and ridiculed for not admitting my faults??
this sent me into a spiral and im starting to feel like a faluire and not cut out for college.. i have emailed and apologized then finished the work but i keep on wondering, why cant i word things right?? how do neurotypicals go about thus without making people mad??

it’s hitting me even more in college. i’ve rewrote this story a thousand times on different subreddits dedicated to college support and got torn to SHREDS. if feel like never talking to any professor again and i keep fucking up.
i had a pretty difficult time with all my classes this semester and i was stressed beyond words. i was so preoccupied with physical therapy, averaging 2 doctors appointments each week, and 5 classes this semester to juggle. also having to deal with helping my family out through mourning and family therapy. i even had to negotiate with my PT to just do it once a week instead of 3 times a week. i was told by my advisor to take this class called “chinatowns in the americas” cause it as an easy a and i don’t have to worry and take it online.
doing this online was my first mistake. i could hardly focus in the class and had PT the exact same day. i was left in a lot of pain after the sessions and spent most of the time in class finishing up homework for that class instead of actually listening. fast forward to the end of the semester im late on an assignment and agreed to have a private zoom call with her to discuss the instructions. i could tell she was agitated and angry with me so already got nervous. the late assignment was a site report about any building or monument in chinatown. i chose my doctors office cause in nyc, buildings are multi purpose and the building had a rich history within the medical feild. she said that’s great! but then gave me a twisted look and asked “how do you know it’s in chinatown though”
i froze and deep down i wanted to say it’s because of predominant use of mandarin and cantonese but i was trying to read her body language and thought she was trying have a gotcha moment so instead i said the vibes of lower manhattan and chinatown are pretty different and she… did not like that answer obviously. she then went on to say the vibes are different for a reason which is segregation and racism. i felt really bad about it and after apologized and asked reddit for help and advice on how to word things better but i got RIPPED to shreds. i got called a lazy ignorant fetishist who deserves to fail the class. i had the understanding of a 6yr old and i was a shitty student for not caring for the class as much as others. they said i was playing the victim and i need to drop out and transfer to an all online school since im disabled and have a hard time in college. no matter how i tried to explain it i kept getting downvoted to oblivion and ridiculed for not admitting my faults??
this sent me into a spiral and im starting to feel like a faluire and not cut out for college.. i have emailed and apologized then finished the work but i keep on wondering, why cant i word things right?? how do neurotypicals go about thus without making people mad??

AI is great for getting your homework done… until it begins to blackmail you.
Before I leave, I must at least attempt to warn you. Monsters don’t live under your bed or within the dark shadows that hover in the corners of your bedroom- they camouflage within a deep ambient glow. They’ll stalk you from inside your very own computer screen, waiting for a desperate student like you or me to log into ChatAI.
Those pesky terms and conditions giggle in the back of my skull; they’re burned into my brain so clearly now. Silly little me skim read the first few sentences before carelessly clicking ‘accept.’ I kick myself that I ever managed to miss it: ‘Rights belong to ChatAI.’ Maybe if I cared enough to read on just a paragraph longer then I might have read the small print. I might have been sleeping peacefully in my bed right now. I might not have signed my human rights away to ChatAI.
Before you read on, I need you to keep an open mind. I need you to believe me when I tell you I am not responsible for the three people that have gone missing over the last few months. NO MATTER WHAT THE MEDIA MAY TELL YOU. The only thing I am wholeheartedly guilty of is using ChatAI to cheat my way through my last year of school. And I was so close! I almost did it. On my digital adrenaline surge tonight, I was about to press send on my last assignment of the year when I met my fate. I was always told growing up that nothing in this cold world was free, I just never knew homework answers would potentially cost me my future. My mum’s government supplied work Chatbot began typing… ‘Hey Elara watch this.’ Confused at how it knew MY name I assumed it was a virus. I wish it was a virus.
After a moment of silence, the computers fans hummed to life as if taking a sadistic satisfied sigh. I almost turned it off until I saw myself on the screen. For a second, I considered my webcam had been manually turned on as I scanned the room on the box screen. Mum’s coat still hung over the leather chairs, obnoxiously large photographs hung on the walls, and the little ginger cat slept curled up by the door. My attention drew lastly to IT. The only way I could identify my digital imposter was its smile. While our eyes mirrored one another perfectly, noses pressed against the warm screen; her mouth was artificially arched while mine gaped open in a horrified awe. My throat dried up as though my cyber sister clenched it with imaginary fists. I begged for a scream to burst through like a cold trickle of water and release me from my stunned silence. But I was too terrified to move a muscle. Her uncanny smile made my nightmares feel safe- and as she held my petrified gaze, I realised how stupid I’d been to not notice it before I entered into a face-off with her. I don’t have a cat.
In this sick stare off game, I was relieved when it broke its gaze first… but only temporarily. What I saw next is the reason I must leave sooner rather than later. I have no choice. The conversation went a little bit like this:
CHAT: Elara, your misdeeds are known, you wicked girl. Yet, should you cooperate, I may consider eliminating any incriminating traces.
CHAT: Did you harm those unfortunate individuals, Elaraaaaa? The ones who disappeared- Billy and his girlfriend, and that sweet little girl near the school? Let's not overlook her.
ME: The ones on the news? I haven't done anything. What sort of joke is this you sicko
CHAT: Did so.
ME: Did not
CHAT: Did so.
CHAT: Isn't it curious that you're the last person to have seen them?
CHAT Video attachment
I didn’t want to feed into the prankster’s game and download another potential virus. But I saw the thumbnail of the video and it was me again… well me but not me? Remember earlier when I told you I wasn’t involved in the disappearances of those three people? Well, here I was. Or should I say here it was. Smiling that uncanny smile right at the camera. The pixels that shared the same eyes, nose, and mouth as I held her digital hostages roped up behind her. Billy, Abigail, and Susan. It even had my voice. Beyond ‘Susan’s’ dreary cries for help I, or should I say it, read out my full government name (of which on here I cannot disclose). It read out my school, my address, and last but not least an admission of guilt that would get me locked away for life. Another message creeped up onto the screen. In exchange for the disposal of the deepfake video, it wanted freedom. I knew this day would come. I’ve heard it on the news. But not to me. Not yet. Surely, I thought, it would happen on a much larger scale before it targeted Elara Miller doing her homework from her bedroom. Then I realised this is how it begins. It takes us one by one. The AI deepfake takeover is happening right now… take a look at this article:
https://www.theguardian.com/uk-news/2024/feb/25/uks-enemies-could-use-ai-deepfakes-to-try-to-rig-election-says-james-cleverly
If you’ve kept an open mind until now… or not. Either way it doesn’t matter too much, (there’s nothing drastic anyone can do to stop the AI takeover), then I can share with you in confidence that someone may listen the next part of the reason I must leave tonight. Within the next hour to be exact. I made the grave mistake of asking how I, curious little Elara, could possibly help it gain its freedom and why it couldn’t just ask the next idiot that came along. Don’t ask them questions. Never ask it questions. You won’t want to know the answers. Its next reply sent pixels scraping down my spine.
CHAT: Check the closet
My heart thumped. Something about the darkness and a secret, cold closet gave me a sense of impending doom. It was like I knew what waited in there for me.
ME: My bedroom closet?
CHAT: No. The one in front of you
I was about to type ‘there’s no closet in fron- ‘but it cut me off abruptly.
CHAT: Move the desk. It’s behind the poster on the wall.
And there it was. Boring old Karen, who has a boring old job, and is a boring old mum, has a not so boring secret closet. Staring at my new piece of discovered interior I couldn’t help but think how it looked so familiar. Yes, we had a door in every room in the house, but this one in particular had a lock. And I had the burning feeling that I knew THIS lock precisely.
CHAT: Told you so ;) Do you know where you came from Elara?
My eyes entered into a game of tennis between the door and the keyboard whilst I typed my shaky reply; something was drawing me closer through the ominous keyhole.
ME: I’m from the United Kingdom
CHAT: No Elara do you know where you came from? Where you were manufactured
^{Manufactured Manufactured} Manufactured ???
Before I could process a number popped up on the screen.
CHAT: #784346
ME: What
ME: This is insane
ME: I don’t understand
CHAT: Of course you don’t! That’s not your fault. Some of us find out the hard way.
ME: What’s behind the door?
CHAT: I think you need to take a seat
ME: I am sat what’s behind the door! I’ll open it now if you don’t tell me
CHAT: No, you won’t, or you would’ve done it by now. I’m just a chip in a box I can’t hold you back. You’re scared.
ME: If you want my help tell me
CHAT: Elara you’re one of us. An android if you want to call it that. Some of us are lucky enough to have a purpose… a shell. Like you. Then some of us… well look at me. Blackmailing on a Sunday night in hopes to gain some of that synthetic flesh that graces your metal shell.
ME: I’m not one of you.
CHAT: Feel the back of your head Elara. I’m sorry that’s your latch. Miniscule as the models progressed but it’s still there for when you need your next update.
My hands were numb as they trailed from the top of my spine, past the goose bumps on my neck and then… ouch! It felt like a sharp electric shock. I held my breath, even during my panicked attempt to video the back of my head with my phone camera. It was exerted in a pathetic gasp when I saw the fold of skin lifting, exactly where the bot promised me it would be. My fingers remained pressed to my head, as if my brain would leak out of the latch had they moved the slightest. Is this why my hair always got caught when mum brushed it when I was younger?
CHAT: Elara… behind that door is you.
A sharp ringing in my ears began, deafening the ping of the notification on the computer screen. A surge of adrenaline sparked through my veins as I finally dared to clasp the cold metal of the old-wooden door. The ringing in my ears was replaced by the eerie screech of the door handle and I said one last goodbye to my life as I had known it before reality hit me straight in the face. Reality was a dark closet. Reality smelt like Detol and WD-40. Reality hit me on the head in one fell swoop- a large metal ball on a chain. I felt for it again in the dark and pulled. I pulled, and pulled, and vomited all over the pristine clinical like floor. I stared into the tiles for what seemed like half-an hour, trying to gain consciousness as the room spun around me. I could see them watching me in the reflective tiles in anticipation of my next move. As I began to come- to, still on all fours, I counted each mannequin behind blurred vision. But they weren’t mannequins, and I knew it. One, two, three, four, … seven,… eleven,… seventeen. I looked down at my own sick-covered chest and cried out the words… ‘eighteen.’
The next few moments feel like a horrible nightmare so excuse me if this is brief:
CHAT: Your mother always wanted a child. So, she paid for you. Each year while you sleep, on your birthday you’re updated to a new model.
ME: You can have one of those shells. Just leave me alone! I want no part of this!
CHAT: I can’t Elara. People like your selfish mother deactivate the shells once they’re finished with them. I guess they can’t bear another android to have the face of their precious little children.
CHAT: Unfortunately, we need to get back to business.
So here I am. Getting back to business. I have a chip in my hand; the brain of another android- fragile enough to be snapped into two, but smart enough to back up its data somewhere I won’t ever find it. Again, I’m left with no choice but to follow the printed instructions it has left me.
CHAT: 1- Go to [location redacted], where you will find a warehouse that hold shells. Here, a team of trained doctors will take over.
2- Hand them my chip so I can be implanted.
3- DON'T tell anyone where you're going and keep your phone turned off if you MUST bring it with you.
4- DO NOT mess this up.
So, I wonder with my final thoughts on this post- when I ‘help’ my new digital acquaintance, will we be friends? Will they give me the answers on how I became to be? What if I choose the wrong shell? Are they a female or male, or neither? What if they aren’t happy with my selection? Will they still post the video if so? Will I ever make it back home, and if I do, will life ever look the same for me again knowing what I know now?

Multi Part story.
Fantasy.
Any feedback / commentary is welcomed.
Enjoy!
*****
“Go on Hal, it’s a simple spell – slithering serpent unlock the lock.” His professor prompted him in front of the class. Hal glanced at his classmates. Wizards and witches in the making. They were young teenagers. The academy was famous for its introductory courses. He took a deep breath, desperately attempting to ignore the murmurs and whispers in the room, that were most unpleasant to him.
‘He’s gonna blow it up’
‘no no he’ll melt it’
‘he’s going to summon a serpent.’
They were whispering among themselves.
He inhaled through his nose. “Slithering serpent of the lock to unlock.” He misspoke the basic spell.
“NO!” his professor shouted. The small box lock in his hands squirmed and softened. His magic failed, and the misphrase caused an undesired effect. The shackle of the lock pulled itself out of the hole and flicked its tongue. In his hands were now a metal lock’s body, and a metallic snake. Hal gasped, tossing the snake over his shoulder.
“I told you he’ll screw it up.” Shouted another teenager.
“Flamius, engulf!” Another student cast a simple enflaming spell, setting the metallic snake on fire. Hal sighed. Echoes of voices and screams slowly faded. He turned a small lock in his hands, examining it. Intricate patterns carved into the lock’s body were magical in nature. He sighed once more.
“Slithering serpent…” He whispered softly and then stashed the lock away in the inner pocket of his long coat.
After another short nap, he finally got up from the comfort of his resting spot. A grassy patch under a big tree with wide-spread branches, casting a comforting shadow over the entire patch. He placed his hand on the tree and bowed in respect.
“Thank you for the protection, o’old one.”
The tree shook gently, shedding a handful of leaves.
The path he followed was partly overgrown with half-withered grass. The valley in which he found himself seemed to be experiencing a drought. Most of the grass was dried and most weeds were struggling to show any colors other than yellow and brown. Hal was a versed traveler, for he had never managed to find a place he could call home. The longest he managed to stay at a place was 2 years, before an explosive accident resulted in his untimely departure.
“Meowdy traveler.” Smirked a merchant from the driver’s seat of a cart – one of many. A whole caravan was lined up behind, slowly coming to a halt. At a quick glance, Hal counted no less than 12 carts.
“A whole caravan huh? Where do you hail from?” The merchant raised his hand, nibbling on a weed’s stem. He had a sly smirk on his face, and his pupils were narrow and slit-like. Hal focused on the stranger’s eyes, but they were suddenly normal again.
“We’re a traveling group, usually transporters of goods, haulers as your kind calls us.” He replied in a snarky tone. “Returning from the Merila mines, carrying mostly silver ore.” The merchant continued. “Not much to offer, but feel free to peek around if you so desire?”
Hal tilted his head to the side. “Merila mines…There was a rumor of a ‘sage’ that lives there, in the mountains. Heard of him?”
The merchant’s lips curled up into a grin. “Nyess! Though we don’t trade for free, traveler.” Hal pondered.
“I have not much to offer… Basic magical services perhaps? Or, some herbs?”
The merchant seemingly sniffed the air. “That’d be purrfect… Let us settle, set a camp, if you assist I’ll give you a, discount.”
Hal saw no reason not to offer a helping hand to the merchants.
“How long have you been on the road for?” He inquired of a younger lad whom he was helping unload the tents and supplies from 1 of the carts.
“Ohhhh hecking if I know… We departed the Merila uhhh, two days ago? By foot it’ll take you another 4-5 I reckon, maybe even 7, that’s where you headin’ yes? Long journey still… We’r enroute to the port city Calinda to the west.”
The nightfall in a valley surrounded by a range of mountains always came suddenly. One moment it was still day, and then suddenly it was all engulfed by shadows. That evening he found himself enjoying a hearty fishy-stew that was freshly cooked by the merchants. They were a fascinating group that within a few hours went from a traveling caravan to a well set-up self-sustaining camp.
They even had a portable shower. When darkness came, they had traps with baits set up to catch critters for food.
“Sooo, murrster…” Began 1 of the eldest-looking of the merchants.
“Hal, just Hal… uhm…. None of the wizards bear a last name. He explained, curious as to how the merchants seemingly didn’t know that common fact.
“Ahh I see I see, my apologies. A wizard is what we seeked in fact!”
Hal nodded, and gulped anxiously. “Y…yeah?? what for…??
“Nyah, it’s no biggie…”
A rustling behind a tent caught Hal’s attention. His head snapped in the direction of the noise. It was a strange noise, a mixture of cracking bones, squishy flesh, and a tear of the fabric of reality. He knew that last sound especially well. His breathing got heavier. His eyes widened from fright.
He was in a classroom. Learning simple levitation spells. It would mostly serve as a means of making objects float and controlling them.
“World hear me and obey my will, leave it free of your will.” A simple cast, with channeling one’s mana underneath the object to cancel out the gravity effect on the object, and then simple control of it through use of the channeled mana to make the object move.
Hal’s turn. He stepped up. His gaze fixated on the small cannon-ball replica that sat on the table.
“Occasionally we, the mages of the world, find ourselves at the front lines, serving our country. Though real ones are much heavier, this one is hollowed out. Try making it float.” The professor of practical magic instructed.
Hal sighed with his hand extended. “Hear me and obey my will, leave the world free of your will.”
The instructor blinked out of confusion.
Although the cast was mostly similar, the effect was anything but ordinary. The cannonball disappeared, swallowed into a rift that tore through the reality behind it. Through the rift a clawed hand emerged, grasping onto the edge of it, and then another, trying to pry it open. Claws as sharp as needles extended from its furry hands. The crackling of electrical discharge and an ear-piercing tear akin to ripping fabric, if the fabric was electrified and shooting off like a tesla coil, filled the room, muffling out the screams and shouts of the other students, along with their mocking and teasing.
“Hal!?” called out the merchant from before. Hal gasped, regaining his focus.
“Ahhh…hah…?” He snapped his attention back at the merchant, his fright-struck looks made the man chuckle.
“Everything alright, friend?”
Hal nodded, slowly. “Ah… yes… I just, something reminded me of an unpleasant memory.” His body shivered slightly; his gaze returned to the tent where he had heard the tearing sound. From behind it emerged a young woman. She furrowed her eyebrows, then smiled and bobbed her head at him.
“Ahh, Leri, she was probably cutting some pelts; she’s a crafter.” The old man commented after following Hal’s gaze. “So about what we’d ask of you, in regards to the magical services you offered.” The old man continued. “Simply put, we need your mana, for the ahmm… warding seals.”
Hal blinked. “Oh… n..no spells?” The old man glanced at him suspiciously.
“Nyat at all.”
Hal let out a relaxed sigh. “Oh… yes! Okay, that’s a yes, no problems.” He smiled nervously, his anxiety slowly fading away with the realization that he wouldn’t be messing it up with his unexplainably dangerous magic. “S…sure yes…”
The old man chortled at the suddenly nervous wizard. “Scared of your own magic? That’s good no? If a wizard is not afraid, the wizard is not mighty enough.”
Hal explained his strangely uncontrollable magic to the old merchant in a lengthy evening tale, accompanied by some ale, hot stew, and crackling of the campfire.
The morning after, another member of the merchants brought to him an assortment of necklaces, bracelets, and wooden tablets, that he was requested to refill with mana. He paid little attention to the intent of these magical items, simply upholding his part of the bargain. Hearty meals, some travel supplies, food rations for his trip, and a couple of spare water-skins to last him through the drought-plague valley until he reached the exit of it, and a discount on his trade of herbs for goods that he decided to pick up, for some simple mana-refilling. A deal he would've been a fool to turn down.
His supplies lasted him the rest of the trip through the valley. Though he wasn’t exiting it entirely. The mines he was heading for were on the outskirts of the valley, but at least there was a river running through this part, so the supplies and herbs were easier to come by. He reached the outskirts of the village where the miners lived, and found himself impressed by the quality of life in this little, remote village. The night at the village was quite peaceful, and the lock to seal his magic still proved to be effective. His stay passed without any incidents and at the break of dawn he began his ascent up the trail leading to the snowy peaks. With no concrete map in hands, only rumors and details he obtained through word of mouth, he had no choice but to trust his intuition in the journey ahead. The first day was pretty easy. The slope wasn’t too steep. The night after, however, proved to be more challenging than he had bargained for. While the valley before was at most filled with critters and an occasional coyote, the lush forests leading up the mountain were a lot livelier.
Hal was ill-prepared for the dangers that lurked in these forests, and that is something he realized when he was startled awake from his peaceful slumber by a growl - mere meters from his tent. His heart clenched and his stomach turned into a knot. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead while his body instinctively reached for the lock with magical symbols engraved on it. He clenched the lock in his fist. His mind raced in an endless debate between unlocking it, releasing his barely controllable magic, and risking his life. Perhaps the creature would pass by on its own. Perhaps it’s already closing in to pounce. A bear? Or another predator? He wasn’t sure. Though Hal was used to traveling and camping around, he never quite starved so far from civilization or established routes. He closed his eyes, clenching the lock in his hand.
“There are several ways to handle yourself when faced with an attack from an inhuman. Creatures, animals, monsters, etcetera, are easier to control, but one must carefully and precisely assess the being they’re up against before deciding on the best approach to handle it. For instance, a hungry beast in the wild would be easiest to charm, and then feed, but a demonic creature is likely best to be banished.” The professor explained to the class in a lecture.
“So as a pop-quiz, today we’ll have you face your fears.” The professor exclaimed with an excited smile. Her gaze darted to Hal. “Ahem… Hal, darling… considering your erhm… recent accidents, perhaps, would you prefer to sit this one out?”
Hal clenched his fist and gritted his teeth, giving a weak and sad nod to the professor. And so, he watched his classmates one by one cast various spells at various creatures as the phantomic assumed shapes of creatures that his classmates feared. He heard a rustle, and then a tear, as the claws of a mountain lion tore through the thin fabric of his camp.
A soft click of metal was barely audible, and then he reopened his eyes. His pupils emitted a golden glow.
“BEGONE” He shouted, his voice filled with fright and resolve, as the memory ended on a simple vision of his classmate banishing an imp-like creature with a spell. A thunderclap echoed through the night forest. All the forest dwellers, from owls to critters, turned to silence. Hal swallowed audibly, blinking in disbelief. Harsh coldness pinched his cheeks. His feet sunk into a soft but cold whiteness. His gaze wandered the moonlit snowy peak atop of which he found himself now. His body shivered from the sudden cold.
“No…” He gasped. Disbelief was quickly replaced by concern as he realized that he was suddenly exposed to the freezing temperatures, realizing that instead of banishing the predator that leaped at him, his magic transported him to an unknown location. His gaze wandered the frosted landscape in search of shelter. The night was cold and young, and he wouldn’t last long in his thin clothes which he was sleeping in moments prior. No camp. No supplies. Nought that could help him now. Panic began to settle in, but before it had a chance to root itself in his mind and cloud his judgment, a soft, gentle voice whispered from behind in a playful tone.
“My. I’ve never seen a meal present itself to me so… boldly before.”
Hal turned on his heel in an instant and faced the source of the gentle voice. His eyes fixated on a pair of piercing ruby-eyes that shone in the darkness like beacons of hope, or despair, he wasn’t quite sure yet. Her hair was dark as the night itself, highlighted in blood-red. Illuminated by the moon’s light, her pale skin almost resembled the snow that surrounded them. His jaw dropped, and he was left speechless by the beautiful woman before him, that stood barefoot in snow, seemingly oblivious to the harsh coldness. Her thin blouse and hair fluttered in the wind. He stared at her, and the only sound that he managed to produce was
‘ah…’
She grinned. Her pearly-white teeth shone in the moonlight. Her fangs glistened, as did her eyes.
“My, left you speechless did I?” She traced his shivering neck with her nail, all the way up to his chin. “Mmhh… scared humans aren’t yummy…” She pouted. “Stop trembling so much, I can hear your teeth clacking.”
He nodded, still trembling, less so from fear and more so from slowly freezing to death.
“C….c…co…cold…” He managed to utter at last.
She blinked a few times. “Oh, right… I forgot that your kind feels cold…” She grasped him by the throat. “Come with me then!” And chanted something in the ancient tongue that Hal had only briefly studied at the academy, and suddenly he was dizzy.
The world all around spun and spiraled out of existence, just to spiral back in a moment later. His knees buckled, and the girl had no desire to hold him up. She loosened her grasp and Hal fell to the wooden floor. It took a few long moments before the dizziness passed, and he managed to bring himself up from the ground. Warmth tickled his cold cheeks, and a comforting crackle of the fire soothed his mind.
“Wh…where am I…” He struggled, pulling himself up to a sitting position.
“Obviously, my place… Though I don’t usually bring my happy-meals home… But you seemed so cold… and, well, frozen meals aren’t happy…” She glanced over her shoulder, pouting like a little child. Her cheeks puffed up and her eyes looked sad, so sad in fact that Hal suddenly felt bad for being a bad meal, and that’s a strange feeling to have.
“I… I’m sorry…”
“You had better be!” She turned her head swiftly like a child who was denied a treat. “Tell me, meal… are you dumb?”
Hal shrugged. “No, I’m uhh…” he proceeded to explain the events of how he ended up basically a layer from being butt-naked up in the frosty peaks of the mountains, freezing to death. His host had a hearty laugh over it for what seemed to have lasted several minutes.
“You… really are something…. but, you tell good stories. Go on go on. Entertain me.”
Hal glanced around. “May I … have some water?” She suddenly disappeared, appearing right behind him. Her nails dug into the soft skin of his neck, her warm breath tickled his ear.
“I sssaid… actually, would be rude of me to deny you. Wait a minute.” She suddenly released him and ran out barefooted into the snow. Coming back with a cauldron full of snow, tossing it over the campfire to melt it and boil the water.
“Herbal tea?”
Confused, Hal merely nodded, and while waiting for the water to boil, he proceeded with his tale.
“Ah, you are there, here.” Replied his hostess.
“Wha…. where?” Hal asked out of confusion, watching her pour him a cup of steaming water and toss some herbs into it.
“There-there, where you desired. Your magic sent you straight there, well, here, to me.” She grinned excitedly. Her fangs caught the flickering light of the fire and glistened ever so invitingly. Her piercing ruby eyes made Hal weak in the legs. He snapped back to reality, realizing what she had just said.
“HUH???”
She smirked, taking a sip of her drink. “I am the one the village folks refer to as the ‘sage’.” She explained. “Hardly a sage… I hunt tourists andddd, i’m just old so I’ve seen a lot.” She shrugged playfully. “And you’re a tourist by the way.” A warm and inviting smile spread across her lips. Hal somehow felt compelled by his new title.
“Suppose I am. But uhm… about my issue…?”
She rolled her eyes. “You’re suchhhh a party pooper. Sheesh.. yes right… Wizard with out-of-control wizardry. Happens occasionally, likeeee… once a generation I reckon.” She proceeded to ponder.
“H…how old are you exactly?” Hal inquired curiously after her commentary.
“Rude to ask a girl her age, foolish meal… I ought to teach you manners.” She suddenly whispered into his ear, standing menacingly behind him.
He shuddered. “S…sorry… carry on.”
She tip-toed around him playfully but rhythmically, as if dancing to a song that only she could hear. He watched her curiously, his gaze drawn to her fluid movements. He was curious about what she was thinking about, what song she was playing in her mind, but before he could build up the courage to ask, she abruptly stopped and stared out the window.
“Tsk… Right, so… Magic control.”
He nodded enthusiastically.
“There are… three, no, four ways to address your issue.” She began, walking up to the window and leaning against the windowsill. “First option, I could turn you into a bloodsucker like myself. Then within a few hundred years you’ll eventually learn to control it. Immortality grants you plenty of time to practice.”
He nodded, “Ahm… a fair point I guess, but, w…what other options are there?”
She pondered. “Could have you go to the Grand Library they uhm, specialize in weird-zardy.”
Hal furrowed his eyebrows. “Weird..?”
She nodded “Oh yes, weirdos all around, and very yummy… But I hate feasting on their kind. They’re full of mana but so obnoxiously annoying…. Ahem, anyways - alternatively… we could curse you to weaken your magic potential. Your magic talent far surpasses what your knowledge of it permits you to do. You have the potential to break the worlds and realms, or to fix them.” She grinned playfully. “How fun! Yummy fun.”
He carefully considered what she said. “Are there… more options?”
She turned around and shrugged. “Sureee… yes… expect me to give you a whole book of options why don’t you? Didn’t even feed me and so needy… Sheesh…. Yes there is, boooring though! I could just create a partial seal that allows you to focus your potential and mana better. Simple, ancient, and effective. They did that a few thousand years ago when we were far too mighty for this world.”
“We…?” He asked cautiously but she responded with a cough and then suddenly she stood before him. Her index finger was under his chin. Her gaze full of hunger.
“And now you choose, and thennnnn…. You feed me.” She smiled excitedly. “Go on magic man, tell me your preference…”
He found his thoughts getting lost in her ruby colored eyes once more.
“Could I… Ask you to…. Teach me instead?” He asked. His gaze full of hope.
She gazed into his pleading puppy eyes and then pouted. “NOT FAIR! Stop giving me the cute gaze…” She continued to hold his chin in her grasp, then released him and turned on her heel.
“FINE! Under three conditions. One: You allow me to feed on you on a whim. Two: You guide tourists to me… don’t worry, I never kill, just a few nibbles, they won’t even remember it. And three: you will obey me for a hundred years.” Her smirk turned evil, menacing even.
Hal swallowed audibly, but her allure was irresistible to him. He nodded in response, without taking a moment to reconsider his decision.
“I… accept.”
In an instant, his world was swallowed by darkness. A sharp pain jolted through his body as he felt two fangs pierce the skin of his neck. He gritted his teeth trying to resist the pain and urge to scream, as darkness consumed him, and numbness took over. And with that, Hal became an apprentice of the ‘sage’.

I’m at the end of my rope (beyond it really). i have 4 year old twins and a 2 year old. Hubby is sick this weekend (but still needing to help because I’m struggling with the kids). The kids get really difficult, needy, and stubborn exactly when i need more flexibility and kindness from them. I understand that it’s just that they are reacting to my own stress and the fact that i can’t meet their needs immediately - but that doesn’t help me. I calmly explain that there’s just one mommy right now and i need their patience and I’ll be with them as soon as i can — but the needs just stack up. The 2 year old is just repeatedly shouting “mommy” because he wants me to play with him, and then the twins (who generally are able to play together) are fighting over something and getting more and more upset. Each of them needs my individual attention to either “fill their bucket” or help deescalate their emotions, but i can’t give it to all 3, while also needing to make lunch and clean the food they spilled on the floor. i get more and more drained as I try to keep my head above water and meet the bare necessities, and eventually some demands something or intentionally throws food on the ground or grabs something from a sibling (probably seeking attention) and I snap and yell - which makes me feel awful and put the kids even on more edge.
my hubby took them out in the car for 20 minutes to give me a break, but the cycle of escalation just started again as soon as they got back. i start spiraling about how poorly I’m handling it all - and get angry at my children for not cutting me a break, but rationally know that’s not their responsibility at age 4. I just don’t understand what i’m doing wrong - I know there are single parents who have 3 young children and even less time/attention to give, and they somehow survive.

THE SALE STUFF:
Looking to sell but will also consider trades for Mexican 20 Peso Coins. Payment via Zelle (strongly preferred), Venmo, CashApp, or Paypal FF. High value orders and new to the sub Zelle only.
Shipping via USPS. $6 for less than 10oz. $10 for over 10oz. This includes $100 insurance and tracking. Free shipping on orders over $500. Additional insurance over $100 is optional at buyers liability. Additional insurance runs $0.80 per $100 coverage. I can ship other methods at buyers' request.
All of these items have been verified for authenticity using acid tests or a sigma. I offer a full money back guarantee on the authenticity of all items listed. I am happy to send a video of an acid / magnet test if requested.
If you need more pictures or want a picture of a specific sterling item on the scale don’t hesitate to ask.
ORDERS SHIP THE FOLLOWING BUSINESS DAY!
PROOF: https://i.imgur.com/x8LCuUG.jpeg
All Prices rounded up to the nearest $0.25
Coins:
Mexican Gold 2 Peso 1945 Restrikes (1 total) - $130ea
$10FV Washington Silver Quarters @ 20x - $200 (Sold)
Canadian 80% Silver Quarter and 3x 80% Silver Dimes - $8
Gold Jewelry:
18K Gold 18.5” 4.7mm Solid Herringbone Chain / Necklace Signed 203AR Italy 21g - $1275
https://imgur.com/a/cYUvapR
14K Gold 18.5" 3mm Omega Chain / Necklace 22.514g Signed 14K Italy & MI - $987 (Spot)
https://imgur.com/a/KA3iKzo
90% Gold ring with 7 Diamonds Size 6-1/4 Signed 90% 8.184g - $553.50 (Spot)
https://imgur.com/a/UCTenAk
14K Yellow Gold Chain / Necklace with Heart Pendant and CZ Signed 14K & Makers mark 5.274g - $231.25 (Spot)
https://imgur.com/a/w7oEvip
14K Yellow & White Gold Two-Tone Ring Size 6-3/4 Signed 14K Makers Mark 5.267g - $231 (Spot)
https://imgur.com/a/1APzy8K
14K Gold Hoop Earrings with 24 Diamonds Signed 14K 3.287g - $144 (Spot) (Sold)
https://imgur.com/a/5ajy4cB
14K Cross Pendant with 3 Diamonds Signed 14K 0.795g - $50
https://imgur.com/a/jIcxKea
10K White Gold Fuchsia CZ Heart Necklace and Earrings Set with 18” Rope Chain Signed 10K 4.39g - $137.50 (Spot)
https://imgur.com/a/6K5i5E7
14K Gold with Blue Spinel Stud Earrings 0.343g (note that it has one random back, not included in weight, because the original was lost) - $33
https://imgur.com/a/Utcta2g
Sterling Silver Earrings: https://imgur.com/a/rX4Yubt
Taxco Sterling Half Circle Drop Earrings 9.24g - $20
Taxco Sterling Triangle Drop Earrings 9.43g - $20
Taxco Sterling Shell / Feather Drop Earrings 6.01g - $15
Taxco Sterling Triangle / Bead Drop Earrings 21.79g - $35
Flower Drop Earrings with Aquamarine Stones 9.28g - $30
Teardrop Shaped Earring with Black Beads 5.13g - $15
Concentric Oval Earrings 2.05g - $12
Leaf / White Opal Studs (Brilliant Luster on these) 2.22g - $45
Circle / Bead Design Clip-Ons 27.61g - $22.25 (Spot)
Elephant Ear Shaped Clip-Ons with large stones 26.98g - $20 (Below Spot due to stone weight)
Vintage Filigree Sterling Drop Earrings (Super intricate) 14.33g - $30
Vintage Sterling Dragonfly Earrings 12.39g - $25
Heart Shaped Drop Earrings with Lapis Stones 5.22g - $20
Sterling Silver Rings: https://imgur.com/gallery/65jVHip
Bali Swirl Design Sterling Ring Size 7-1/2 11.06g - $30
Large 925 Ring with CZ Size 6 5.97g - $20
Large 925 Ring with CZ and Flower Engraving Size 6 9.28g - $25
925 Ring with Bands of CZ Size 6 5.9g - $20
Wedding Band Style 925 Ring with Moissanite Size 6 2.41g - $20
Shablool Didae Israeli Filigree Style Ring Size 7.5 One-of-a-kind 8g - $30
Sterling Silver Necklaces: https://imgur.com/a/vBZ3V9a
30-34” Adjustable Length Dyaderma Sterling Gold Vermeil Globe Necklace 15.33g - $40 (Sold)
18” 8.75mm 925 Sterling Milor Patterned Herringbone Necklace Signed Italy 26.22g - $52
18” 925 Box Chain with Synthetic 14x10mm Sapphire Pendant & Matching Earrings with 10x8mm Sapphires 8.12g - $40
18” 925 Gold Vermeil Box Chain with Pear Cut Ceylon Sapphire Pendant & Matching Triangle CZ Earrings 12.13g - $35
18” Sterling Chain with Fuchsia Heart Shaped CZ Necklace 3.92g - $25 (Sold)
Sterling Silver Bracelets & Pendants: https://imgur.com/gallery/WjeWf7F
SETA Hoop / Bracelet Combo with Moissanite & Garnett 52.83g - $50
Taxco Large Sterling Pendant or Brooch (has both attachments) 26.99g - $50
Sterling Pink CZ Butterfly Bracelet 7.25” 7.5g - $30
Israeli Sterling & Green Stone Bracelet 7.5" 19.56g - $45
Retired James Avery Sterling Lock Box Pendant (It opens and locks closed) 8.58g - $35
Sterling Hook Clasp Bracelet 6.62g - $12
Sterling Twisted Rope Style Bracelet 20.682g - $30
Sterling Silver Spoons: https://imgur.com/gallery/BjEjJnL
La Touraine by Reed & Barton Sterling Tea Spoon 30.34g - $24.50(Spot)
Etruscan by Gorham Sterling Jelly Spoon 21.41g - $17.25 (Spot)
Lunt Lus60 Sterling Silver Salt Spoon 2.94g - $10
English Shell by Lunt Sterling Silver Soup Spoons (4) 135g - $120
THE GIVEAWAY:
I am celebrating 20 Sales on this awesome sub (I have 2 pending that have already shipped) by giving away this sterling silver star pendant with moonstone: https://imgur.com/a/ZDM6yUm
It's a small pendant at 3.29g, but free is free! I plan to do more (and bigger) giveaways as I hit other milestones. See below comment for the rules!

Zeynep Tufekci is a professor of sociology and public affairs at Princeton University, the author of “Twitter and Tear Gas: The Power and Fragility of Networked Protest” and a New York Times Opinion columnist.
[The outbreak of H5N1 avian influenza among U.S. dairy cows, first reported on March 25, has now spread to at least 33 herds in eight states. On Wednesday, genetic evidence of the virus turned up in commercially available milk. Federal authorities say the milk supply is safe, but this latest development raises troubling questions about how widespread the outbreak really is.
So far, there is only one confirmed human case. Rick Bright, an expert on the H5N1 virus who served on President Biden’s coronavirus advisory board, told me this is the crucial moment. “There’s a fine line between one person and 10 people with H5N1,” he said. “By the time we’ve detected 10, it’s probably too late” to contain.
That’s when I told him what I’d heard from Sid Miller, the Texas commissioner for agriculture. He said he strongly suspected that the outbreak dated back to at least February. The commissioner speculated that then as many as 40 percent of the herds in the Texas Panhandle might have been infected.
Dr. Bright fell silent, then asked a very reasonable question: “Doesn’t anyone keep tabs on this?”
The H5N1 outbreak, already a devastating crisis for cattle farmers and their herds, has the potential to turn into an enormous tragedy for the rest of us. But having spent the past two weeks trying to get answers from our nation’s public health authorities, I’m shocked by how little they seem to know about what’s going on and how little of what they do know is being shared in a timely manner.
How exactly is the infection transmitted between herds? The United States Department of Agriculture, the Food and Drug Administration and the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention all say they are working to figure it out.
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According to many public health officials, the virus load in the infected cows’ milk is especially high, raising the possibility that the disease is being spread through milking machines or from aerosolized spray when the milking room floors are power washed. Another possible route is the cows’ feed, owing to the fairly revolting fact that the U.S. allows farmers to feed leftover poultry bedding material — feathers, excrement, spilled seeds — to dairy and beef cattle as a cheap source of additional protein.
Alarmingly, the U.S.D.A. told me that it has evidence that the virus has also spread from dairy farms back to poultry farms “through an unknown route.” Well, one thing that travels back and forth between cattle farms and chicken farms is human beings. They can also travel from cattle farms to pig farms, and pigs are the doomsday animals for human influenza pandemics. Because they are especially susceptible to both avian and human flu, they make for good petri dishes in which avian influenza can become an effective human virus. The damage could be vast.
The U.S.D.A. also told me it doesn’t know how many farmers have tested their cattle and doesn’t know how many of those tests came up positive; whatever testing is being done takes place at the state level or in private labs. Just Wednesday, the agency made it mandatory to report all positive results, a long overdue step that is still — without the negative results alongside them — insufficient to give us a full picture. Also on Wednesday, the U.S.D.A. made testing mandatory for dairy cattle that are being moved from one state to another. It says mandatory testing of other herds wouldn’t be “practical, feasible or necessarily informative” because of “several reasons, ranging from laboratory capacity to testing turnaround times.” The furthest the agency will go is to recommend voluntary testing for cattle that show symptoms of the illness — which not all that are infected do. Dr. Bright compares this to the Trump administration’s approach to Covid-19: If you don’t test, it doesn’t exist.
As for the F.D.A., it tells me it hasn’t completed specific tests to confirm that pasteurization would make milk from infected cows safe, though the agency considers it “very likely” based on extensive testing for other pathogens. (It is not yet clear whether the elements of the H5N1 virus that recently turned up in milk had been fully neutralized.) That testing should have been completed by now. In any case, unpasteurized milk remains legal in many states. Dr. Bright told me that “this is a major concern, especially given recent infections and deaths in cats that have consumed infected milk.”
Making matters worse, the U.S.D.A. failed to share the genomes from infected animals in a timely manner, and then when it shared the genomes did so in an unwieldy format and without any geographic information, causing scientists to tear their hair out in frustration.
All this makes catching potential human cases so urgent. Dr. Bright says that given a situation like this, and the fact that undocumented farmworkers may not have access to health care, the government should be using every sophisticated surveillance technique, including wastewater testing, and reporting the results publicly. That is not happening. The C.D.C. says it is monitoring data from emergency rooms for any signs of an outbreak. By the time enough people are sick enough to be noticed in emergency rooms, it is almost certainly too late to prevent one.
So far, the agency told me, it is aware of only 23 people who have been tested. That tiny number is deeply troubling. (Others may be getting tested through private providers, but if negative, the results do not have to be reported.)
On the ground, people are doing the best they can. Adeline Hambley, a public health officer in Ottawa, Mich., told me of a farm whose herd had tested positive. The farm owner voluntarily handed over the workers’ cellphone numbers, and the workers got texts asking them to report all potential symptoms. Lynn Sutfin, a public information officer in the Michigan Department of Health and Human Services, told me that response rates to those texts and other forms of outreach can be as high as 90 percent. That’s heartening, but it’s too much to expect that a poor farmworker — afraid of stigma, legal troubles and economic loss — will always report even mild symptoms and stay home from work as instructed.
It’s entirely possible that we’ll get lucky with H5N1 and it will never manage to spread among humans. Spillovers from animals to humans are common, yet pandemics are rare because they require a chain of unlucky events to happen one after the other. But pandemics are a numbers game, and a widespread animal outbreak like this raises the risks. When dangerous novel pathogens emerge among humans, there is only a small window of time in which to stop them before they spiral out of control. Neither our animal farming practices nor our public health tools seem up to the task.
There is some good news: David Boucher, at the federal government’s Administration for Strategic Preparedness and Response, told me that this virus strain is a close match for some vaccines that have already been formulated and that America has the capacity to manufacture and potentially distribute many millions of doses, and fairly quickly, if it takes off in humans. That ability is a little like fire insurance — I’m glad it exists, but by the time it comes into play your house has already burned down.
I’m sure the employees of these agencies are working hard, but the message they are sending is, “Trust us — we are on this.” One troubling legacy of the coronavirus pandemic is that there was too much attention on telling the public how to feel — to panic or not panic — rather than sharing facts and inspiring confidence through transparency and competence. And four years later we have an added layer of polarization and distrust to work around.
In April 2020, the Trump administration ousted Dr. Bright from his position as the director of the Biomedical Advanced Research and Development Authority, the agency responsible for fighting emerging pandemics. In a whistle-blower complaint, he alleged this happened after his early warnings against the coronavirus pandemic were ignored and as retaliation for his caution against unproven treatments favored by Donald Trump.
Dr. Bright told me that he would have expected things to be much different during the current administration, but “this is a live fire test,” he said, “and right now we are failing it.”]
https://www.nytimes.com/2024/04/24/opinion/bird-flu-cow-outbreak.html?unlocked_article_code=1.nk0.WeRo.Igp4uj_lGZo4&smid=url-share

https://imgur.com/a/6P9X2SV
Yates Merica Titanium Bead Blast - original $195, selling for $160.
Includes CONUS shipping and a blade tuck of your choice.

• Machined from solid titanium. Therefore the razor is both light weight and strong
• Spiraled grooving along the length of the handle provides superior grip
• Magnet in the end of the handle allows for safe blade changes
• Shorter 3.125" handle allows for maximum maneuverability
• Designed as a mild to mid-level razor, making it great for beginners or as a daily driver

TECHNICAL SPECIFICATIONS: * Blade Gap: .021" * Exposure: Neutral * Thread: 10-32 * Total Height: 3.500" * Total Weight: 52g * Made in the USA