Sore throat, chills, sweat week no fever

Always read lots of good posts about the mwz community and how cooperative players tend to be but then that one post about some troll or douche shows up in the feed. Now I finally came across one of these players lol.
The ranked session with the lads comes to end, but I play way into the night when it's the weekend and solo queueing in crimson lobbies is torture if you're not absolutely cracked out of your mind, so I switch to pubs and grind out the obsidian camo for the BAS-B. I try to see which game modes give you crazy amounts of XP and find big modes like ground war and lockdown on warzone offer decent gains and wonder if zombies does the same (1 hour matches while grinding out t2 contracts sounds like crazy amounts of XP on paper at least) and run one. I slap on my Borealis camo and talking waifu battle buddy and load in then straight off into the city. Red zone is saturated as hell so I've got plenty to myself until...
See that living doll skin running around the same area and farming the truck cargo contracts and think buddy is on his own grind and decide I'll leave those to him. I mostly do the safes and bounties back and forth as they spawn, but then see a cargo and outlast near each other. Blue dot on map slowly approaches both and I assume it's the same guy and head towards the outlast. Bro was parachuting in and I was on foot so he gets closer and waits between them for a second. As I make my way towards the outlast he does too and picks it up. Bruh...
Didn't think much of it and go to the cargo as the challenge is weapon XP and will still count. Finish it and switch to a safe contract then notice on the radar a blood burner bike with a blue scheme sitting all by it's lonesome (Not sure if the blue and purple color on radar indicate whether it's a naturally spawned or player spawned) and take it for a spin. Park it outside and do the contract. Didn't realize when it was snatched during the safe and assumed maybe it despawned or something. Storm starts expanding and I check the map and see pretty much whole lobby has left except for one other dude.
Still didn't think much of it and make my way towards the bottom left of the map where I assume the final exfil will land. I periodically check the map for either a vehicle or portal and see the blue dot speed towards a quad. Quad disappears and I assume it likely blew up... Again not thinking much of it at the time,but the blue dot keeps blowing up vehicles around the city. I make my way to the crane and plan to fly over towards the exfil. Hover over the blue dot who's under the highway blowing up an SUV and notice a blood burner near the vicinity. Did he take my blood burner? Now I was a tad bit confused and wondered if maybe there was some weekly challenge to blow up vehicles or something.
Was so distracted on the radar on what bud was up to that I gently landed on the train tracks still quite the distance from final. No big deal still plenty of time and farm some kills along the way. I pull up the map to see where the Storm is at and see blue dot headed towards the top right of the map and wonder if bro thinks it ends there (the storm was in a weird spot where it was a bit difficult to determine whether it was gonna end on top or bottom but having played a decent amount of DMZ I could give quick eyeball test and figure where it ended) I was planning to type in chat but blue dot quickly turns around and heads to the bottom.This is where the suspicion starts to kick in...
He's driving along the tracks and I'm slowly making my way along them too killing whatever zombie I see close or far, then he rams into me and pushes me a slight distance to the left. Likely not on purpose and probably wasn't paying attention... THEN HE COMES BACK DOING A FULL ROTATION AND RAMS ME AGAIN WITH THE SAME RESULTS... A slight push to the side.
BLOOD DOES IT AGAIN FOR THE THIRD TIME AND I COME TO THE REALIZATION! HE'S OFFERING ME A RIDE DUHHH!
As he approaches I hope on and we're making our way towards the exfil. Haha, what a cool dude...
He drives past the exfil and is headed towards the end of the map. Bro what?!? Buddy jumps off and the bike approaches the denied area. I was actually surprised I reacted fast enough to switch seats and bring it to a slow. I check the map and see blue dot's arrow facing my direction. He then takes off running opposite of the final exfil and headed towards a buy station.
You try to kill me bruh? I've seen this before on DMZ where players pull some out of bounds tactics on dead players bodies. Now let's get something straight.We all hate a certain type of player. Riot shield user. Corner camper with shotty. Quick scoping sniper. Wannabe CDL pro sweating his absolute nuts off in pubs. Whatever if it's in the game then I suppose fair play...But someone who uses an exploit or glitch to his advantage! Nah your a bitch for that.
I cruise my way to the final exfil and see him make his way there too a few secs later. Pfff bruh starts placing sentry guns and mortars all over the place. Lol you want all the kills to yourself headed ass. Okay buddy sure you do you and I'll do me on this lil ole hill and take some shots for xp. BRO THEN GETS THE BLOOD BURNER NEARBY I LEFT AND PLACES IT INFRONT OF THE HELI RAMP.
WOW DUDE YOU ARE ACTUALLY TRYING TO PREVENT ME FROM EXILING LOL.
Buddy starts trying to block one of the other entrances with a sentry gun...
Dude...
You know I can hop the wings of the chopper right pal?
WOW the effort you put into this punk ass tactic lol you need some dirt In your eye.
As I plan to approach the heli and hop the wings the best idea pops into my head. I gotta do a nose job(Thanks Phixate!) on the heli and let him know he's buns at trolling. See a red tower close by slowly get consumed by the storm but see it still be doable. Head there without much struggle surprisingly and parachute off. Land it relatively well and I'm there crouched staring at him in the heli. LOL buddy is blocking the other entrance then realizes where I'm a at. He stares at me with his fists and I start crouching while shooting at him to let him know I figured your lame ass plan bruh it's not clever.
BEST THING THEN HAPPENS!
BLOOD TURNS ON HIS MIC AND STARTS TALKING SMACK HAHA!!!
At first I thought it was gonna be some 12 year old going through his edgy phase, but nah it was some GROWN ASS ADULT... Dude really at your age you should be better than this...
"WHY CAN'T YOU JUST TAKE THE NORMAL EXFIL YOU FUCKING (RACIAL SLUR)BOY"
With the final 70 second timer counting down we go back and forth talking tripe and it turns out I had been ruining some of his camo challenges throughout the game
Bruh...
One clarification I'd like to make is that as someone who mostly plays COD for unlocking camos and grinded Orion,Borealis, interstellar, DMZ serpintine, Ranked iridescent camos, Seasonal Nuke camos, weeklys, and event camos, I have the utmost respect for anyone on the grind and will happily help out if kindly asked like legit if buddy simply said in chat
"Yo man I'm trying to finish this 5 kills without releasing the trigger 20 times challenge can you not kill the zombies"
Sheesh! Bruh say no more I'll build the trains and play bait if you want no issue brother!
BUT NO... Instead you chose to be an ass and now I sincerely hope I was truly a nuisance to your camo grind.
As my first reddit post didn't mean to write a damn novel, but the experience this tool gave me on such a chill game mode made me wanna post about it. Thank you for reading and please if your a descent player who actively goes to res players, drop high value loot for randoms, and help the inexperienced with the aether rifts keep doing what your doing, y'all the GOATS. DON'T BE THIS JACKASS OF A PLAYER

I've been talking the shots for about 2 years now, and always tolerated them well. Gentle soreness at the injection site for a couple days, nothing else.
Well, at my last appointment (Friday) I had an immediate reaction. My blood pressure crashed (80/40) and I nearly passed out. I was a hot, sweaty disaster.
After getting my feet elevated and stabilizing, I went on my way. The rest of the day was spent resting on the couch. Saturday I got a chill really bad, took my temp and had a strong fever. The rest of the day has me alternately sweating and shivering. Not to mention the digestive distress.
About 3am last night the fever broke. I'm feeling a good deal better, but it was a heck of a shock.
Has anyone else had an experience like this? A dramatic reaction after many uneventful doses? I'm not sure what to think about it.

I have no better way to put this than I'm so clueless right now. It started with vertigo and mild speech issues like t and d sounds were impaired in March. It continued and may 15 th i noticed my lower lip is suddenly paralysed, doctors don't know why. Then two days later jaw clonus which speaks nothing good but als. Cold air hits my face I have teeth chattering, i yawn and trigger it too. Feeling so lost right now. Because this literally never happened. A week back i noticed my speech did get nasal. I assumed some seasonal allergy. I also suddenly had fever and cough and throat pain so i thought just cold viral. Now almost 9 days in my voice sounds very nasal. It's like I'm congested but nothing comes out from my nose. I also note a deviation of uvula. I think my soft palate is paralyzed. Going to consult a neuro but I'm feeling very hopeless about the whole situation. I ignored a lot of symptoms like facial Twitching before facial muscles paralysis, some throat clearing etc. I have umn and lmn involvement now. I'm feeling so hopeless is a small way to put it. I'm only 24. Hoping it turns out anything else but it seems like mri is clean so I don't know what can cause this. A repeat of mri would be pointless is what doctor told me... I'm progressing so fast it feels unreal. Not looking for reassurance or diagnosis but I just thought I'm imagining a lot of things till i thought oh no something is very very wrong with me.

Ebv , bladder pain , pelvic floor dysfunction
So ebv is sometimes called a mystery virus it has no cure. In my case, my pcp, and I believe that ebv has gone into my bladder and also weakened my pelvic floor muscles, which caused me a lot of suffering. I have many of the similar symptoms people have. On daily vit D and 1 g valganciclovir and monitor it's levels every like 6 weeks. I was looking for answers for very long, and I share many of your other symptoms like waking up exhausted, night sweats, fever, body aches, sore throat .... it's all slowly improving I hope and since ebv infections are so complex we are stuck trying medicine and hope it calms down.
Posting this to see if anyone else has IC that's causedb by EBV and also anyone else who suffers from. pelvic floor issues and bladder pain every day.

I started 25 MG of Zoloft Generic on April 1st and was upped to 50 MG on May 5th without side effects. My GP and I agreed to stay on 50 MG as it leveled out my Health Anxiety 100% and OCD 50% - still have thoughts, can talk myself out of the compulsions.
This past Wednesday, I picked up 50 MG refill and noticed it looked different (blue instead of white with a stronger odor). I assumed it was a different Generic.
Three days later, Saturday, I started to have mild cramping / diarrhea around 10 AM - six times total and it’s now 12:30 on Sunday (last bout was four hours ago). No other symptoms (ie, sweats, fever, chills, aches). Do any of you feel it can be from the different Generic? I already emailed my GP.
Diarrhea, in general, is very uncommon for me.
i suppose it could be a small stomach virus or food poisoning, but my wife is perfectly fine.
any thoughts?

Article Text:
If there is one man in Britain who embodies the way our politics have changed, and continue to change after October 7, it is Akhmed Yakoob, the independent candidate for Birmingham Ladywood.
Yakoob is a 36-year-old defence solicitor who wears black Prada trainers, a glittering diamond watch, tinted gold-framed sunglasses and Gareth Southgate-like waistcoats. He has 195,000 followers on TikTok, a platform he understands more intuitively than 99 per cent of the politicians in this country. He speaks in clipped, brutal epigrams that sound like they are only ever a few seconds away from going viral on social media. He calls the Prophet Muhammad his biggest political influence. Offline he campaigns on the street, inside takeaways and from the cream leather seat of a shining black Mercedes S-Class Saloon. The word “genocide” is never far from Yakoob’s mouth.
This year, standing on a pro-Gaza, anti-Labour platform, he racked up almost 70,000 votes in the West Midlands mayoral election, mainly from deprived inner city wards in the Birmingham Ladywood constituency he is now trying to wrest from Shabana Mahmood, the shadow justice secretary. Labour’s Richard Parker narrowly won the mayoral election, taking 225,590 votes, 1,508 more than the Conservatives’ Andy Street. Yakoob’s presence in the race made it much closer. Though he came third, securing 20 per cent of the vote gave him substance and a political base. Yakoob is furious about the war in Gaza.
He prints “For Gaza” on all his leaflets. He says the war is why he entered politics. He knows it represents a key dividing line with Labour, even as the party prepares to make new commitments to a peace process, if not unilateral support for a Palestinian state, in its manifesto next week. But there is nothing Labour can say or promise to bring back some Muslim voters now.
The same fury Yakoob feels is the basis for other independent challenges to Labour across Birmingham. In Edgbaston, Dr Ammar Waraich, a neurologist and former Harvard Fulbright scholar, is trying to topple Preet Kaur Gill, the Labour candidate. Waraich says he quit the party, as many other Muslims did, when Sir Keir Starmer told LBC on October 11 that Israel “had the right” to withhold water and power from Gaza. In Selly Oak, Kamel Hawwash, a civil engineering professor at the University of Birmingham and a former head of the Palestinian Solidarity Campaign, is running against the shadow veterans minister Steve McCabe.
Both seats, like those in former mill towns (Rochdale, Blackburn) and inner city areas (Ilford North, Leicester East) across the country where independents believe they have a chance of embarrassing the Labour Party, have significant Muslim populations. At May’s local elections, an analysis by Sky News found that in areas with a Muslim population above 20 per cent Starmer’s party lost 17.9 points from their vote share.
A targeted Labour fightback in Muslim areas, including focus groups and internal polling, began in January. This week the LabourList site published a list of the party’s “battleground areas”: 250 constituencies into which the party is funnelling significant resources, part of a campaign to win a healthy parliamentary majority. But the party is also directing activists to 22 seats where the party already has a large majority. It looks like a rearguard action. Several of these areas have a higher-than-average Muslim population.
Muslims make up 43 per cent of the electorate in Birmingham Ladywood, according to the Muslim Vote, a group that is trying to cohere Muslim voters behind pro-Gaza candidates. Mahmood has been the MP here since 2010, taking the seat from Clare Short, the former New Labour minister who resigned two months after the Iraq war began in March 2003. Short, as Yakoob is today, was a persistent critic of Labour’s foreign policy in the Middle East.
After refusing to serve in the shadow cabinet under Jeremy Corbyn, Mahmood became an early backer of the influential Starmerite think tank Labour Together and a key figure in Starmer’s plans for government. Based on the results of the 2019 general election, when Mahmood won 79 per cent of the vote, Ladywood should be one of the safest Labour seats in the country.
Boundary changes introduced this year complicate that picture. Alum Rock, an inner-city area that has a 93.6 per cent ethnic minority population, will become part of Ladywood. When you spend a day canvassing with Yakoob you begin to see why this might be a much trickier contest for Labour than anyone would have predicted a year ago. Ladywood is now one of the party’s “battleground areas”. Yakoob’s team believes that activists are being brought into the constituency because locals are refusing to campaign for Mahmood because of her abstention on a motion calling for a ceasefire in the Israel-Gaza war last November. Labour call this claim “absolute nonsense”. The independent candidates share ideas and strategies. They often campaign together.
“Everybody was saying to me ‘Labour machinery this, Labour machinery that,’” Yakoob says from the front seat of the Mercedes, which is being tailed by a pair of black German sedans filled with his volunteers, mostly young men wearing Asos suits.
“So what? I don’t really care about the machinery. Can they buy the love of people? No.” Yakoob smiles broadly. He jabs a hand out, as if he were standing at a podium addressing the entire city.
“They can spend millions but they can’t take the love of the people for me out of their hearts. That’s what they can’t take.”
His family are from Azad Kashmir, a region in the disputed territory controlled by Pakistan. His father came to Britain in the 1970s, worked as a milk salesman, then retired to Pakistan. Yakoob was born in the City Hospital on Dudley Road in 1988. He has four brothers, four sisters and four children. He tells his life story and gritty legal anecdotes on podcasts and through his 30-second, self-consciously aspirational social media videos.
Rags to riches is the vibe. He used to own a fleet of supercars, including a Rolls-Royce and a Lamborghini. The cars have since been jettisoned; Yakoob says he has “grown out of them”. Politics is taking over his life. His flashy, brash populist style makes Yakoob the closest thing politically adrift British Muslims have to Nigel Farage. He has been endorsed by George Galloway.
Yakoob is under investigation from the Solicitors Regulation Authority after he used social media to promote a false claim of racism against a teacher last month. Yakoob later deleted the posts and issued a statement saying that he would not make any comment until the outcome of the investigation.
Yakoob disrupts things wherever he goes. Handing out leaflets near a primary school on Wednesday afternoon, crowds swirl around him. Women in hijabs tell him they love him. Countless pictures are taken. People practically throw their children at him. Yakoob switches between Urdu patter and his drawling, lispy Brummie English. “Inshallah,” he says whenever these parents tell him “next time you will win”.
The afternoon before, Yakoob was campaigning at the gates of the nearby Rockwood Academy. It used to be known as Park View School. In 2014, Park View was at the heart of an inquiry into discredited allegations of a plot to oust some Birmingham head teachers and make their schools adhere to more conservative Islamic principles. The so-called Trojan Horse scandal remains a sore issue locally. By campaigning outside the school, Yakoob is picking at a scab.
“I don’t know why he does it,” said one teacher who didn’t want to be named. “Why kids?” When Yakoob appeared outside the school, hundreds of children tried to take selfies with him. That evening at a packed meeting at a Bangladeshi restaurant, Yakoob calls for a public inquiry into the Trojan Horse affair. The room shakes with applause.
Along Green Lane, a squeezed road on a dumpy street where cars are parked at every angle and Palestinian flags are tied to the lamp posts, Yakoob literally stops traffic. Drivers slow down to yell and shout their support at him. He runs haphazardly towards them brandishing leaflets coloured with the black, green and red of the Palestinian flag. It’s a total macho circus act, pure street politics. “Everyone knows me,” he says.
A little girl walks up to Yakoob with her mother, who does not speak English very well. “Give us a good reason to vote for you.” Yakoob gets down on his haunches. He is face to face with the girl. He calls her “little sister”.
“None of our MPs spoke about Gaza.” He says this very slowly and patiently, so she can understand him. “There was a vote in the House of Commons and our MP for Ladywood … she actually abstained from voting.” The girl is satisfied with this. She leads her mother away, taking a leaflet to go.
There are local issues here. The roads sweat with traffic and pollution. Uncollected rubbish, stinking in the mild June weather, is piled up near abandoned, shattered pubs. People complain about potholes and rat infestations. More than half the children in the constituency, 54.6 per cent, are living in poverty, according to End Child Poverty — the highest rate of any constituency in the country.
Later one man, an elderly solicitor, tells me Alum Rock is a ghetto, and Mahmood should be ashamed of it. Yakoob’s team claims Mahmood cannot campaign there, such is the anger towards her. They also say a senior figure from one of Mahmood’s previous campaigns has defected to Yakoob. Both claims are, again, “absolute nonsense”, a Labour spokesperson says.
Mahmood says she is “delighted” to be Labour’s candidate in Birmingham Ladywood, “the city my family has called home since my parents first arrived from rural Kashmir”.
When we visit the 20-tent pro-Gaza encampment that sprouts from the ground in the middle of Aston University with Yakoob, one student, a bearded 20-year-old who did not wish to be named, was unequivocal: “Power must be taken away from the Labour Party.”
That evening, senior figures from the Bengali community gather to address Yakoob in the upstairs room of a Bangladeshi restaurant on Coventry Road. The room looks like it has been decorated for a wedding reception — which is somewhat eerie, because no women are present.
A succession of bigwigs are introduced. This brother runs a printing business. That brother is a mufti, an Islamic jurist. They are serious men, and they feel deeply betrayed by the Labour Party that their families have voted for since they came to Britain.
One man recalls his father’s friendship with Lord Hattersley, who was MP for Birmingham Sparkbrook from 1964 to 1997. He says he will never vote for Labour again after Gaza. “They have hurt us so much.” His voice is grave. I watch as speaker after speaker effectively pledges allegiance to Yakoob. These men are planning for the long term.
“We are all here until we die,” says one. “So we need to make sure we make a playing field for our next generation.”
Is Yakoob that next generation? Victory over Mahmood would probably be the biggest shock of this election. It remains unlikely, but it is not unthinkable. His campaign is more fascinating for what it represents than what it might achieve. It is amateurish, not professional, and built on charisma not data. He wants the approval of TikTok, not the BBC. Akhmed Yakoob might just be a curiosity. Or he could be the first sign of a truly new sectarian politics in Britain.

About 36 hours ago I got a sudden temperature spike, taking me to 39°C (102.2F) with the joint pain directly caused by it. I decided to sleep it off; by the morning there was no improvement. Stubbornly refused to take Paracetamol until 6pm, at which point took 1g and had a quick improvement. I then took 500mg at 2am and another 500mg at 10am. I'm currently sitting at a comfortable 36.7°C (98.06 F)
To note is that I had no symptoms of anything except the fever itself and an inability to keep solid food in. When I woke up at 10 today and started my day (by staying in bed awake) I had a terribly sore throat, which I still have.
I'm just confused by the fact the symptoms showed up AFTER the fever was gone. Every other time I had high fever it came eith the other symptoms, not as a preamble to them, nor as a replacement for them.
Is this normal?

Generally I’ve been a sexually active person.After a bad breakup though I was so heartbroken,I couldn’t stop thinking about her and I started visiting escorts.As a cope mechanism.I know it’s bad and all and I now completely regret it.In the past 1.5 years I’ve been with about 15 escorts.Always protected vaginal sex but free oral receive or give with 10 of them.I feel so dirty now.I’m 23 and good looking I don’t know wtf happened to me.Last month I had a swollen tonsil and a bit of sore throat.No swollen lymph nodes or fever.A doctor examined me and found no swollen lymph nodes..I also saw a rash on my neck which was irittaded by sweat.When I didn’t workout and I cleaned the area vigorously it basically went away almost immediately.The health anxiety was the worst though.I took some antibiotics for another infection after which I developed a yeast infection on my penis(balanitis)After 5-6 days I’m completely fine and the balanitis has gotten 90% better.The symptoms are driving me crazy.I have not had sex for about a month and I don’t wish to do it again with an escort.They are a fucking addiction.I feel disgusted with myself.What are the chances of me contracting the hiv virus from oral sex?Reading about hiv drives me crazy.Thank you for reading this.

Today: went to the bathroom mushy and almost diarrhea twice, I did eat cooked carrots last night had mircogreens with salmon for breakfast and less then a spoonful of yogurt, don’t know if that’s why I’m going like that today. As of right now really no stomach pain
Yesterday: Woke up belch burping like crazy but had no pain in stomach just gassy at times, could eat more today but notice for awhile now I get acid reflux and depending on the food could be worse and only time I feel some pain is when I feel above my belly button when I press in I get a weird dull pain then it fades away. Overall I’m belch burping a lot and having lots of acid reflux and burning in stomach on and off. I could burp for an hour straight even without eating anything. I know my period is due in a few but I’m concerned I could have h pylori or stomach cancer. I saw many young people have stomach cancer in their 20s
Other day: still belching not as gassy in the moment, above belly button still feels a bit weird but pain went away and toward the left side a bit feels like a balloon at times then I belch and feel better. Overall don’t feel as bad as last night under belly button it is sensitive to touch a bit. Have burning in stomach after eating
Yesterday: Was feeling better even had somewhat of a normal bowel movement, later on I pressed right above my belly button going a little bit to the left and I got a dull burning pain going up a bit and around belly button and now it hasn’t left and I can’t stop belch burping again. I have been taking Zantac and it has been helping me keeping that pain bloated gas feeling away but not so much today maybe it’s also because I took ibuprofen and also I do not have a fever but my period is due in 8 days. Basically it feels like someone punch me in the stomach now
Say before: stomach feels kinda better today, went to the bathroom felt like I had a wall on the side of my rectum with sharp pain went very small stool and sorry for the tmi but it smelled horrible, besides that my face has been feeling flushed took my temperature and it’s between 100- 99.7 I’ve been highly stressed and my vertigo has been really bad today. Stomach overall as I said feels a bit better but kinda also feels like someone has punched me in my stomach/lower abdomen
Few days ago: Light sharp pain around my belly button that goes down to my uterus (kinda) and light pain around the belly button especially when pushing down around my belly button it feels funny weird light sharp pain and lower stomach pain area. Pressing around the area feels sensitive hurts a bit near my hips down, gassy and feeling slightly better after burping also symptoms could act up more after eating or when feeling more anxious. Took Zantac last night helped me a bit
Female/24, Back in January I’m not sure if I had a stomach bug or after years my ibs came back but for like two months I couldn’t really eat and belch burp a lot, after sometime it all kinda went away but my bathroom habits i noticed kinda changed. Recently few weeks ago I came down with a cold and was taking a lot of honey which I think cause me to get a flare up again with ibs and I was also extremely nervous under a lot of stress due to personal reasons, was constipated then started to go more normal once I added more veggies into my diet but I started having to be careful what I ate as I would have to run to the bathroom or start burping like crazy then last Sunday I felt everything kind of calmed down til Monday morning where I woke up feeling fine went to go eat some left over zucchini and within an hour I started to burp like crazy and have really bad cramps and kept going to the bathroom floating stools with watery D. also got a hive. Since Monday I have not been the same I can’t eat can’t even have water just some gatorade everything makes me burp like crazy for hours gives me lots of gas and hurts my stomach. Basically the gas, burping nonstop, and diarrhea/floating stools are back. I did feel like a band wrapped around my tummy whenever I ate something other then rice and some soreness in the right upper side of my stomach there the other day but I also did do a workout that did and haven’t felt anything today, also had some light pain that would go into my back for a bit but that stop as well.. right side has always stick out been bigger then the other side of my upper stomach for years. I know that I’ve been having a lot of stevia in my stuff recently and I just ovulated yesterday lastly I deal with vertigo and back attacks that put my body in fear mode overall I do have a very nervous stomach and all the pains feel like gas pains
I’m in a toxic relationship and have family issues I’m always anxious and stressed

Hi everyone!
I tested positive for strep throat (rapid test) on 4/29. Symptoms were bad sore throat, white patches on throat, and general malaise. I took a full course of amoxicillin, the throat symptoms went away, and all was well.
A week after finishing the amoxicillin, all the symptoms came back, but less severe. This time, my rapid test and throat culture were negative for strep. The doctor still prescribed me augmentin which eliminated all symptoms.
Now, a week after finishing that round of antibiotics, the white patches and malaise are back again. No sore throat. The doctor prescribed me azithromycin and did another throat culture. I have taken two doses so far and the white patches are completely gone. But I just found out my throat culture was negative again! Is it possible to have strep throat with two negative cultures in a row? If it is not strep, why would it be responding to antibiotics?
Thank you so much for your help!

The dark sky loomed over the horizon, as day became night. Smokes stopped churning from the busy factories, revealing the beauty of the stars. Lights started to flicker; their shine mirrored the sight above.
And yet, tranquillity never came. Horse-drawn carriages and trams still strolled upon the hectic boulevards in the great metropolis of Amberton. A city in a constant.

Still, in such hubbub, a young human boy found his solace. A young, naughty boy who defied his parents’ orders to do his homework. Instead, he read the stories of his favourite adventuring party as illustrated in the new edition of ‘Adventurers Weekly’.
Alone, in his room.

Lying on his bed, the child imagined the events as though he was there to witness. Slowly flipping away, page by page. He thought to himself, “Just one more page!”.
Despite the open book on his desk, he was too entranced by the exploits of his idols. Too entranced to notice the clatter outdoors.
Outside the small building, footsteps can be heard. A person, clad in black naught their eyes, was scaling the brown brick wall. Unnoticed by a living soul.
As they reached the window of the young, naughty boy, their paces abruptly stopped. After a few, light taps from the heel, they stomped. With a leap, they trespassed a private property.

The boy was surprised by the improvised acrobatic show. Reflexively, he recoiled and backed himself to the wall. In the process, his journal was thrown off the mattress.
With his vision subjected to the masked intruder, his heartbeats hurried. His breaths were erratic. Cold sweat dripped from his tanned skin.
Yet, he did not scream. As if being visited by a nightmare in a sleep paralysis, the boy was stunned.
He was fearful.
Afraid.

The intruder stood up and then turned to the child in front of them. With a deep voice, they spoke in an oddly calm manner.
“Hello there, boy.”

The boy did not answer. His voice was shackled by dread.

The intruder saw the journal lying on the floor. They then spoke once again,
“Seems like you’re quite fond of legends and adventures, aren’t you?”
“How about one last story about the fall of Rydyan, the elvish king?”

The boy was still locked in fear, keeping his silence. Tears can be seen forming in his eyes.
Step by step, the intruder approached the bed.

“Well, it’s a classic.” They regaled.
“King Rydyan received a prophecy that his granddaughter shall overthrow his rule. Wanting to prevent that from happening, he ordered his granddaughter to be thrown away.”
“We all know what happened next. The granddaughter learned of her heritage, and she grew up to resent the king. After she gained support from the people, Rydyan was overthrown.”

The boy stared in silence. He was backed into a corner, helpless.
His tan face paled; his body trembled. Tears rained down on his cheeks.

The intruder paused, as they slowly breathed. The reflections of their eyes became wavy, damming the sense of guilt. They tried to maintain composure, but slight trembles still escaped as they spoke yet again.
“You see, young lad. My end was written in the prophecies, with you as the bearer. And I will not make the same mistakes as others did.”

Their right hand reached for their hip, revealing a revolver. The boy wanted to yell, but his mouth was locked, bound by fright. He could only close his eyes.
His story would be a short one.
Then…

a thud.

Unexpectedly, the intruder instead lightly threw the gun at the boy. They then removed their mask, revealing the face of a pale human man. The boy’s eyes widened, for it was the face of his idol.
Julius Joules, the gunslinger of the adventuring party shown in the journal.

The man knelt. “This is no way to meet a fan, I know that.” He said as he gazed at the floor. A single tear raced down through his cheek.
“But I’m sorry, lad. Prophecy is prophecy, and I don’t want us to have a lifelong, bloody feud. So, let us just end this right here, right now, shall we?”

The boy was overwhelmed with emotions. A single drop of joy was there, as he saw his hero in person for the first time. Yet, it was overshadowed by the flood of confusion from the strange turn of events. Outshined by the tides of frustration from the unjustness of the world. Combined, they breached the walls of fear.
As the boy was no longer fettered by silence, a shout bolted from his throat.
“I don’t want to hurt you! Why do I even have to do this? You’re my hero!”

“Again, prophecy is prophecy. Run from it, and it’ll catch up anyway.” Said the adventurer, in an attempt to calm the boy and himself.
“And I can’t even try to deny this one, especially when it comes from the seers of the Ezthos Oracle.”

“NO! I don’t care if some old man from a bunch of stupid islands said that I have to hurt you, I won’t do it!” The boy protested. Stubborn.

Julius sighed, “Don’t worry, it won’t hurt me that much. Just follow my lead and it’ll be quick and painless, alright?” He held the boy’s hand and placed his gun in it. The boy pushed Julius away, adamantly rejecting the idea.

Outside, the commotion had not gone unnoticed. Rapid thumps can be heard approaching the room. As they stopped, the door was slammed wide open. A loud smack echoed through the room, marking the entrance of a middle-aged couple; interrupted the conversation between their child and his hero.
“Samar! Are you alright? What the hell is going on in here?” The mother shouted; a knife held high with her right hand.
As they were about to lunge at the trespasser, a shred of recognition flew, “Is… is that… Julius Joules?”

“Yes, it is me, in the flesh. You’ve come at an unfortunate time I’m afraid.”

“Is… Is that a GUN?” His father, holding a shovel, saw the object in Samar’s vicinity.
As the realisation came over them, they panicked. Yet, they did not lunge. They would not take chances like that, not against the famed adventurer.
The father dropped his shovel. “Please, PLEASE! I beg of you! Don’t hurt him! He’s just an innocent young boy! He’s the only one that we have!” He pleaded.
“I’ll give you anything! ANYTHING! Take our money, silverware, spices, just not our son’s life!”

“Don’t worry, I’m not here to hurt your son. And neither I yearn for your wealth. I’m here because of a prophecy.” Explained the adventurer.
“The wise seers of Ezthos Oracle declared that your son shall be the bearer of my end. I know how those stories end, so rather than trying to defy them, I’ll just let him fulfil his destiny. Right here, right now.”

“F*CK THOSE PROPHECIES!” Samar shouted, stunning all in the room. His parents might be upset about his choice of words, but there are more pressing matters at hand.
“Why should I care about what is written for me? Why can’t you just still go explore the world?” Said the boy.

“My son is right!” The father spoke, adding to his son’s wisdom,
“Why don’t you just let fate run its course? Why are you worrying about something so distant?”

Julius sighed, “Well, what if I turn evil in the future if we don’t do this now? What if wickedness overtakes me?”

“Are you evil now?” Asked the boy.

“Well, I don’t know." Answered the adventurer.
"I do try my best to help others, but…”

“Then you’re not evil, and you don’t deserve to be hurt! If you turned evil when I grow up, that’s adult me problem, not today’s me problem!” Said Samar.

“Again, he’s right.” The mother spoke,
“Just live your life, don’t let nonsense like that disturb you. You know, you and your adventures mean a lot to him, right?” She said as she pointed out the various journal clippings on the wall.

“But I…” Julius was speechless. Something had snapped within him.
He was maddened, his obsession with fate overtook him. But the words from the family broke his trance.
What has he done?

He trembled for a second, and all of a sudden, he hugged the boy. He was unable to maintain his calm any longer. His tears finally flew.
“I’m sorry, lad! I’m so sorry! You’re right, you don’t have to do this. You don’t deserve this, not this young.”

The boy wept again, overpowered by his feelings.
Julius Joules, his hero, hugged him. He had convinced the adventurer to stop his insane, prophecy-driven plan. Yet, what just happened was still fresh in the boy's memory, and he dreaded the fact that he would be his champion’s doom.
The parents hugged each other. Relieved. Their son is safe for now.

…

Tears stopped dropping from the adventurer. Calmed down, Julius released his hug, and then slowly walked to the window.
“I’m really sorry about all that happened tonight.” He spoke. “I’ll send compensation soon enough. We’ll meet again someday, hopefully not the way I would expect.”

Just before he left through where he came from, however, the boy’s mother interjected.
“Mr. Joules, please, stay a bit longer. We are just about to have dinner!” Said the woman.
“You’ve probably come a long way from here, and I think you looked a tad bit famished, dear.”

“I don’t think I deserve your kindness,” Replied the adventurer.
“Not after everything that just happened.”

“No, it’s alright. We insist!” Joined the father.
“We have enough for everyone!”

Not wanting to be rude, Julius could only accept.
“Very well. Who am I to be above the laws of hospitality?” He said as he put down his right leg from the window.

The mother spoke, “Good! Now, let me just run the pipes so we all can wash our faces!”
With a slight chuckle, she continued. “I know that we all need that after what just happened.”

"Oh please... You've offered so much already." Uttered Julius.
"Thank you." He continued. A smile formed on his face.

(To be continued?)

Hi all! I (25F) have been undergoing so much testing to figure out what’s wrong with me. Basically back in Feb I broke my right foot for the 3rd time and my doctors were really shocked since this is post 2 surgeries. They were trying to figure it out and I have been doing the “is it an autoimmune disease” shuffle for like two months. Symptoms ( for like the last 10 years, in addition to 3rd time broken foot): Fatigue, joint / muscle pain, migraines, hyper mobility, throat / nose soreness stuffy, itchy eyes, hives almost constantly, GI issues, palpitations, shortness of breath
So I got a bone density scan, normal then my primary did a bunch of blood work, and my Ana was low positive and so was RNP, I went to a rheumatologist who did the standard panel and said I was fine, RNP was still slightly positive but ANA came back negative and she was like you’re good but I got a second opinion to be safe So I’ve been to a gastro, neuro (emg), allergist( allergy testing), pulmonologist (p factor test) cardiologist (echo + sleep monitor), pain management Dr, migraine specialist, hematologist, radiologist ( X-rays, and mri) and a second rheumatologist.
Last results came out with : Ana still negative but like 19.40 ( high is 20) RNP is 1.9 ( still low negative) * Parotid Spec Protein IgM Abs E, 02 : 30.1 , High * APTT 31.2, High * Histamine, Plasma B, G, 06 1.64 High * Sedimentation Rate-Westergren C, 01 35 High
The Parotid results were from an early Sjogrens panel and I literally have no idea what is, and my rheumatologist is on vacation for 3 weeks
Any advice

Hi :) I (19f) have been struggling with my anxiety a lot lately, and it would be very helpful if anyone could share their advice/support for achalasia.
For some background information, I have had dysphagia since I was 13 years old. I was living in so much fear at the time, had no idea what was happening, and was scared to tell my doctor or my family because I knew I was going to have to undergo testing (Endoscopy, LBT).
During 2021, I started experiencing horrible chest pain behind my sternum and was convinced I had covid (chest pain was a common symptom of covid). I went to my doctor, answered many questions, talked about my family history, and we concluded I had GERD. During this visit, I never told my doctor I had dysphagia and she prescribed me with Omeprazole pills that were very large. My doctor has always known that I cannot swallow pills, but she was convinced it was just a fear, as she was never told I had dysphagia. I never took the omeprazole because I physically couldn't, and my symptoms worsened between 2021-now.
Around 3 weeks ago, I finally went back to my doctor to come clean about my dysphagia and told her all the other symptoms I had been experiencing. I have chest pain behind my sternum after I eat or drink, weird gurgle noises, constant hiccups and burps, bad taste in my mouth, choking on food and saliva, regurgitation when I bend down or sneeze, chronic heartburn, severe sore throat in the morning, dysphagia, shortness of breath, weight loss, nausea, throwing up stomach acid in my mouth, and many other things I forgot about.
As soon as I told her I have dysphagia and intense pain behind my sternum after swallowing, she told me that it's a condition called achalasia and she referred me to 3 specialists to make sure I would get on a waiting list. I have no problem with swallowing liquid, although it does hurt, and she told me that liquid can still slightly squeeze through my LES, but my food is getting stuck above there (hence the pain). She also prescribed me a liquid form of Omeprazole just to make sure it wasn't GERD and told me that if the Ome doesn't help, then I do not have GERD. I ended up taking it for a week and never noticed any improvements. So, after seeing her 4 days ago, I told her the Omeprazole didn't help at all and she told me it could at least give me peace of mind to know that I did try, even though it didn't work out.
My appointment with a specialist is scheduled for 3 months away and I am struggling with so much stress and anxiety. I told my doctor I'm extremely terrified to go through all the testing and she asked me if I'm tired of living like this, to which I replied "yes", and she told me that it can only get better from here. I'm in so much physical pain as I write this post and I know getting these tests done is what's going to make me feel alive again. I've also read that individuals with achalasia have a higher chance of developing esophageal cancer and my grandpa unfortunately passed away from it. So, now I'm worried I have an even higher chance due to genetics.
How do I wait it out for the next 3 months? How do I overcome the anxiety about testing? There's so much uncertainty in this situation and I'm unsure how to manage my stress.
If any of you have some tips for the tests or general advice for diet changes or how to manage living with this condition, I'd be so grateful to read them all. Thank you :)

So I worked 2 days for a contracter mixing cement. I got the job through a friend and was told nothing about it before starting, except that the working hours would be 8 hours.
Anyways I worked 2 days in the job and it was one of the worst I've ever had.
I had to mix cement, which requires dealing with silica dust. No PPE provided. My lungs, throat and lips were getting sore from breathing in the dust.
My hands, arms and chest got covered in cuts from moving bricks, which then got infected from the cement water.
My big toenails fell off from running around in boots all day.
The 8 hour shifts were actually 9+, my smokos were around 20 minutes and he made me give coffees to the brickies during them (no coffee bought for me btw) and on top of that he paid me per day, not per hour, which turned out to be an abysmal 230 a day , or roughly 25.5 per hour.
I would have finished the week, maybe even the next one if he needed me, but he cancelled work with me an hour before starting on Wednesday for no apparent reason (weather was fine, I think the bricks didn't arrive or something).
I messaged him after asking him if he could find somebody new (he was bragging the day before about somebody trying to get work from him but he wouldnt hire them because they were pakistani??). He just ignored me. I messaged him again asking if he got my message. His response was "see you tomorrow". If he had asked nicely I would have finished the week with him but the audacity rubbed me the wrong way and I just Ignored him.
Anyways he took 2 weeks to pay me and when he did it was only 400, not the 460 as agreed upon and he told me because I quit he had problems and that's why he's underpaying me.
It's only 60 dollars but the whole situation has just left me extremely pissed and I'm wondering is there anything I can do about it. Cheers

Help! I’ve suffered seasonal allergies my whole life and take allergy meds daily, and am generally ok….until pregnancy. I haven’t made it through one night without waking up coughing or waking up with the worst sore throat. I think it is due to post nasal drip and just general congestion. I know it isn’t sickness because it goes away within an hour or two of being awake, and has been going on for at least 6 weeks. I still take allergy meds, and I’ve tried sleeping propped up slightly and adding a humidifier…with no relief. Are there any miracle solutions out there or am I doomed for another 6 months 😭

Hi all. I'm a bi male who had two recent encounters with two other males. One was three weeks ago and the last one was 12 days ago. I am an absolute idiot. I was the insertive partner in both occasions. Of the first encounter I don't know their HIV status and of the last encounter they said they were HIV negative and on PrEP. I know the likelihood is still small in spite of my needlessly stupid risky behaviour (0.04-0.2% of contracting HIV with a HIV-positive partner if you are the top), but I can't stop shaking the idea of having HIV.
I started developing symptoms 4 days after the last encounter, which was a zit on my chest. I started spiralling thinking it is HIV, so I booked a an appointment for a HIV RNA test (14 days after first encounter, 6 days after last encounter) and it came back negative.
However, I started developing a mildly sore throat, a mild headache, got two more zits on my chest/nose and experience itchiness over my arm, legs and chest (no rash). I have no fever (37.0 with an ear thermometer). My roommates caught a cold and have sore throats as well. The zits could be acne and I notice the itchiness mainly acting up when I stress about it.
I booked a new appointment for an HIV RNA test two weeks after my last encounter, but I have such a hard time dealing with the anxiety of maybe having HIV. I also booked an appointment to test after 30 days with a combination test.
I just can't stop spiralling into the anxiety. I vow to never do stupid unsafe shit like this ever again. Especially around the stigma of having it and having to take a daily pill.

Hi all. I'm a bi male who had two recent encounters with two other males. One was three weeks ago and the last one was 12 days ago. I am an absolute idiot. I was the insertive partner in both occasions. Of the first encounter I don't know their HIV status and of the last encounter they said they were HIV negative and on PrEP. I know the likelihood is still small in spite of my needlessly stupid risky behaviour (0.04-0.2% of contracting HIV with a HIV-positive partner if you are the top), but I can't stop shaking the idea of having HIV.
I started developing symptoms 4 days after the last encounter, which was a zit on my chest. I started spiralling thinking it is HIV, so I booked a an appointment for a HIV RNA test (14 days after first encounter, 6 days after last encounter) and it came back negative.
However, I started developing a mildly sore throat, a mild headache, got two more zits on my chest/nose and experience itchiness over my arm, legs and chest (no rash). I have no fever (37.0 with an ear thermometer). My roommates caught a cold and have sore throats as well. The zits could be acne and I notice the itchiness mainly acting up when I stress about it.
I booked a new appointment for an HIV RNA test two weeks after my last encounter, but I have such a hard time dealing with the anxiety of maybe having HIV. I also booked an appointment to test after 30 days with a combination test.
I just can't stop spiralling into the anxiety. I vow to never do stupid unsafe shit like this ever again. Especially around the stigma of having it and having to take a daily pill.

I posted this in the CFS sub, but I read here sometimes, in case anyone has any improvements themselves or to learn what worked for people.
I'm not claiming to have long-covid, but I do have ME/CFS, which I think many people do have here so I'm posting it here too for those people. I had no gut related issues / I have no experience with pain or neuropathy or any other long covid symptoms that are not ME/CFS.
Given that my situation and the situation of many people here are pretty much the same, I'm sure there's some benefit to posting. After all, I sometimes gain from reading posts here.
22M
Slow onset, which started hardly noticable when i was 20 years old. Came on over the span of 6 + months. At the time, I was exercising 15 hrs / week, working 40 hrs / week and doing a degree at the same time. It's possible my body accumulated so much stress that it just shut down, and that onset my CFS. I believe I had a preventable case if it was caught early, something 1 - 3 months of rest could've corrected, but I was experiencing some form of symptoms for almost a year before I recieved a diagnosis and by then it was far too late.
I read this subreddit a lot, mainly looking for recovery information more than anything. Sometimes I comment, but I never post, so I may aswell join in.
I've heard many things out there, that if I prevent crashing, I actually have a good shot at recovery or improvement. One thing for sure, is that the PEM keeps you in it, or can even make you worse. So what if I just stay perfectly within my energy envelope?
Of course, that's easier said than done, it's not an easy task to perfectly avoid PEM, it requires a strict adherence to many things, and not much room for error.
Back in the middle of February 2024, I set out on a mission to do exactly this. My goal is to go 1 year straight without PEM, and to see if I can regain my life back.
I believe I'm milder than many people here, but hopefully my personal experience can induce some thoughts in people here. Any hope is good, after all.
A full history of my symptoms, from my worse days probably last summer, to now are as follows. (some not present anymore, some only in PEM.)
Fatigue Insomnia (I went up to 3 days at a time unable to sleep) Brain Fog Muscle Weakness Breathlessness Headaches Sore Throat POTS Tarchadyia after eating Carbohydrates Dizzyness Light-headedness Tightness of the chest / unable to take a full deep breath Night sweats / constantly hot Wired feeling / inability to relax Sexual Dysfunction (If someone else suffers from ED please tell me because nobody talks about it, it can't just be me)
My starting baseline at the start of the year, in which I had to do to avoid PEM was as follows: 16 hours laying down / in bed to some degree, ~ 3000 steps per day. Unable to work, university from home. Although if I ate particularly garbage food it could be even less than that.
4 months later, avoiding PEM completely:
Today, 11,500 steps, 8 - 9 hours a day in bed. Regular sleeping pattern. Still doing university from home, no work. At baseline, I feel 80% - 90% normal. I tire out quite easily still, and if I do activity too close to bedtime, eat too close to bed time or break from my strict schedule, I can tell. I'm still far from being able to do what I want. I can't be careless at all.
My number one pacing tool without a doubt is my Garmin watch. It's scary how accurate it has been for me at avoiding PEM, and without this, I don't think I could have done it so perfectly.
The changes I made in my life, which has reduced the stress on my body, and improved my HRV according to my Garmin was:
Building my life around sleep. Sleep is the priority. I sleep at the same time every night, no exceptions. Blue-light glasses No technology within 1 hour before bed time Vagus nerve stimulation before bed with TENS device, basically some cheap bootleg neurosym because I can't afford neurosym. 1 hour of stretching each night Not eating at least 3 hours before bed, but generally the further i eat from bedtime, the deeper the rest I get. Keto diet, my body handles carbohydrates so terribly that this was a gamechanger. Acupressure mat Keeping my room as cold as possible I tried ice baths, which at first made me crash. Now I can use them without a crash, but they suck to get in and im not sure how big the benefit is. I think there is some, but perhaps I'll use it again in the future.
All of these things have one common goal, which is to maximise my parasympathetic nervous system, and give me as deep of a rest as possible. It's been very successful so far.
Medications & Supplements I use:
Diphenhydramine 50mg, which I use sparingly for sleep. If I'm concerned a crash is coming or some insomnia develops, I use this. It's addictive and not meant for long-term use so I can't use it all the time. I've dodged some PEM episodes with this though i'm 100% sure of that. It definitely works.
The most impactful:
Magensium Fish Oil for Omega 3s Ashwagandha Vitamin D
Secondary (Not sure how well these work, but I'm using it anyways): Vitamin B12 Vitamin C High Dose Vitamin B1
I was going to wait either 6 months or one year to make a post like this, but I may aswell make it now.
I know this improvement isn't just some luck, because before I stopped getting PEM, and made these changes, I was actually getting progressively worse over time. So this last 4 months is the first time I've actually changed my trajectory.
Any questions below are welcome.

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It had been a few weeks since Altier was brought to the run-down shack that his black-scaled companion likely called home, and he could now comfortably say he was accustomed to the…household’s routine. The kobold typically left at the crack of dawn, returned a little after noon, and occasionally left again to forage until nightfall. When the weather was bad or there wasn’t a particular need for something, they half-heartedly chased their rabbit around for a bit, which usually ended with a bout of quiet petting while everyone got ready for the night. It was always amusing to see the energetic side of what he had come to know as a relatively lazy loaf of an animal. As for the routine of the ferrorabbit in question… Well…it was at least more interesting than expected.
Hoppit would begin his own series of activities as soon as his caretaker left—the first of which being a check of every nook and cranny in the shed. He sniffed at anything that caught his interest, varying from morning to morning, but he gave every object or corner its due attention. Once he was satisfied with that, he would eat some of the ragged plants that made up most of his diet, take a drink from his bowl, then jump onto the tro— table and plop himself down, his ears pivoting towards the door. It was hard to say if the lounging spot had been established before Altier’s arrival, but it was somewhat amusing to pretend that the little rabbit was standing guard over his core—if it wasn’t for one particular part of the morning ritual, that is.
Indeed, the ferrorabbit had a habit of licking the obsidian orb that sat in the middle of the room, which thankfully didn’t seem to perturb the system enough to give Altier a headache. He was confused when it first happened, but it was commonplace enough now that he barely acknowledged it. A part of him liked that he was getting attention as a core, even if it was delivered via a strange grooming method. The closest he got to being acknowledged as something other than ‘the dungeon’ was through an unfortunate misunderstanding that he could never properly rectify. He supposed that was hardly worth thinking about now, though; too much time had passed for there to be anyone left to correct. The little oddity of his mornings would have to suffice.
There wasn’t much to comment on as far as the rest of the day’s happenings. Hoppit would end his loafing by shaking his head and ears in a way that filled the silence with soft clacks, give the core a customary tongue bath, then jump off the table to nose his way out of the shed through a hole that was hidden by the storage cart against the wall. Where the rabbit went was anyone’s guess, but he always returned before anyone noticed he was gone, and often did so while covered in small cuts and scratches. Any blood from the lacerations was quickly licked off before it could be seen by the kobold, and in the event that the scaly caretaker happened to return earlier than expected, Hoppit would scurry over to the bundles of blankets to finish the cleanup in secret.
Today looked to be following the usual pattern. The kobold left bright and early with various gardening tools and a wooden pail, and Hoppit had since set off into the great unknown for one reason or another. Hopefully, he returned less injured than usual. It was frustrating to admit that Altier had begun to grow rather fond of the fluffy creature, and seeing the thing come back hurt was bothersome. Was it off looking for food? There wasn’t a whole lot given to it, so that was a possibility, and it could be getting into fights over whatever it found. That still didn’t explain why the animal was so thin, and Altier didn’t have enough to go off of to think of a potential solution. He wanted to help it in some way, like by summoning a creature to act as an escort, or maybe just by manifesting something edible like he once could. No, he could only stare at the ‘Synchronizing…’ that occupied his menu, wishing he had more information to work with.
He never thought he would miss the bombardment of notifications and their lingering presence that filled the edge of his mental vision; at least with that he could surmise enough to hazard some kind of action. Even knowing why the menu was acting the way it did would be a start. Yet, try as he might, there wasn’t a history for him to reference anymore, and he had nothing to work with. He was confident the last message had asked him to ‘accept’ something, then took his befuddled ponderance as an answer, but he was no closer to an explanation for what it wanted, nor why it prompted him in the first place. He just didn’t have another experience to compare against, since nothing like that had ever happened before. Not that he was ever in much of a position to allow it.
The entire purpose of having Altier inhabit a core was for him to become a dungeon of Decay, which entailed all the skeletons, poisons, acids, and whatever else came to mind when one pictured the concept. ‘Living’ creatures were something he only had the chance to experiment with near the beginning of his new existence, though he never dabbled past the first few insects before transitioning to the mindless undead. Having a thinking, feeling, breathing entity touch his core was a rite reserved only for the adventurers and soldiers that bested his trials, and that was usually a painful experience. Now, he had spent what he could only guess was hours being held by a kobold, followed by having a rabbit bump against him, and neither felt like what he came to expect. Instead, both had led to a completely novel reaction from the system. The strange circumstances put him at a bit of a loss as to what it all meant for him.
Sure, he could dismiss the deluge of errors from his companion’s involvement by pointing to the numerous ‘corrupted’ messages before it, and Hoppit was a part of mostly unexplored territory, but the lack of clarity nagged at the back of his mind constantly. Being exposed to activity after potential decades or centuries of unchanging solitude made him despise the informational dead end. If he couldn’t make sense of the rabbit’s circumstances, then he didn’t have much hope of deciphering the reason for why his system was misbehaving so terribly. He also didn't know much about the one who owned the decrepit holdings he was housed inside.
He still wasn’t sure what drove the kobold to take him from the cave. His suspicion of becoming traded goods fell flat after the first week or so, and he hadn’t noticed any cult-like behaviour, which was promising. Granted, a lack of nefarious behaviour didn’t mean there was a lack of nefarious intent, but he didn’t get the impression his companion held that either. The kobold itself didn’t seem quite settled on an opinion of his core, though it was up for debate if the hesitation was due to knowing what he was or not. They seemed to mull something over before bed each night, yet never reached a satisfactory conclusion, staring at the obsidian orb through weary grey eyes until they eventually forced themselves into sleep.
Whatever the underlying reasoning for his abduction was, he had observed enough to know that the kobold didn’t deserve to live in destitution. As beaten as the shed might be, they cared for it as best they could, and did so without a single groan or grimace of complaint. The floors were cleaned with a tattered rag and fresh water, dust was removed regularly, and any stray mess that Hoppit made was dealt with promptly. They even took the time to wipe off his core, which was possibly where the ferrorabbit got the idea to start licking him. The only time Altier had seen discontent from the kobold was when they didn’t find much during their foraging, and thus couldn’t give any treats to the excited and bouncy herbivore.
He wasn’t aware that a creature’s face could make such a painfully broken expression, and he was quick to decide that he never wanted to see it again.
Vexingly, his metaphorical hands were tied; a dungeon could only influence their Domain, and given the state of his system, not even that option was available to him. All he could do was glare at the rotting wooden beams that held up the roof and remember when such an issue didn’t exist. It would have taken a mere flicker of thought and a paltry sum of mana to mend the struts when he was a proper dungeon. He could even outright reinforce the structure by weaving in other materials, leaving the appearance as it was while making everything stronger than iron. Well, he once could. Working with other affinities was something that came to him after absorbing the coloured motes left behind by adventurers, and the accursed stone that stole his mana had taken that ability as well.
An attempt was made anyway, his will ordering the deteriorated wood to absorb any trace metals from the ground, but it was no use. He couldn’t feel the iron or stones beneath the shed like he would have been able to before, all but confirming his suspicion that his connection to the Earth element had slipped away. Nature was much the same; the only way he knew when Hoppit had returned most days was from the subtle noise and the essence of injury. The other attributes—Air, Flame, Luma, Shadow, and so on—were ones he never experimented with to any real extent, so it was less noticeable when he lost his grasp on them. Perhaps they faded early. Either way, all he had left was a waning cognizance of his own alignment, and that wasn’t of much use to him. If he had any appreciable mana income, then perhaps he could do something, but he wasn’t even sure what the upkeep of his current Domain might be. It was entirely possible that he was running on a deficit, which would offer a reason for why his system had been so—
[Do#$@n Ex@#d$%^&d! CRe@#r H-H-H-HoPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP—]
[Errrrrrr—]
[Sy$%^hroni%^$zing…]
[Creeee-tu— Hoppit ha@$ esttttb-hed terrrrrrr-ity f^#% t$e dun@&$n!]
- - - - -
“Well then,” he mumbled to himself, taking in the strange scene behind the shed. For one, he could actually view a small distance beyond the structure now, and two, there was a rather proud-looking Hoppit sitting on his haunches before a pair of significantly less prideful examples of the species. They looked quite a bit bigger than the lazy loaf Altier had come to know, yet they were more cut up and dejected than his furry friend. That answered where the injuries had been coming from, he supposed. Hoppit was probably running off to bash heads with whatever animal population existed here beforehand, and they had only just reached a consensus on who was in charge. Impressive.
One of Hoppit’s ears turned back towards the shed, his head following suit as he gave a lagomorph’s approximation of a ‘Look what I did!’ smile. Altier blanked out mentally, but didn’t have time to question anything before the new leader of the local rabbits imperiously pointed a paw towards the surrounding forest, which was equally surreal to witness. Most surprising of all, the…subordinates? The other ferrorabbits did as commanded, keeping their forms small as they took off into the foliage. Soft clacks came from Hoppit’s pleased shake of his head, then he too left the area with only a slightly lopsided bounce to his stride.
The man-turned-core could only gape at what he saw. Were animals always so…expressive? Had Hoppit heard him? What in the world was happening? Why had Hoppit’s personal conquest led to Altier’s Domain expanding?
He lamented not having fingers, nor temples to rub with them. His system was a garbled mess of errors and inconsistent messages, his residence was falling apart at the seams, his companion was someone who abducted him from the dungeon, yet never did anything past that, and his first real experience with an animal was turning out to be more confusing than he thought possible.
All of this was after an unknown amount of time spent commanding legions of undead to strengthen the very people who he would later learn had lied to and manipulated him, making him into a nightmarish entity just to bolster the power of their forces. He almost missed the days spent gazing out of a mossy window. At least then he knew what to expect.
Nothing made sense anymore.
= = = = =
The soft sound of roots ripping free from soil suddenly stopped, only to be followed by a dull thud of Ceele’s palm slapping against the ground to catch her fall before she landed on her rear. She righted herself with her tail and tossed the stubborn weed into a pile with the others. No matter how many mornings she did this, they always seemed to replace themselves faster than she could remove the pesky things. A sigh slipped from her muzzle as she set about grabbing the next one embedded in the vegetable garden.
Aches and spreading stiffness flared up, but went ignored as she neared the end of her duties, though she was well aware that they would come back with force once she tried to settle down for the day. The impending soreness was an inevitable byproduct of spending so much time working. Still, she knew that if it wasn’t for the kindly old couple that allowed her to call their shed home, she would still be sleeping beneath the stars while making sure nothing tried to get at her Hoppit. Even if it was just a part of the deal, they were owed this much in return, and she would see it done properly.
The sun bore down on her back as she did her usual tasks, which was a departure from the slightly overcast weather as of late. It looked somewhat promising when she checked in the wee hours of the morning, yet as her gardening duties dragged on, so too did the intensity of such a clear sky. A disappointed glance at the empty wooden bucket on the edge of the field was quickly corrected. She hadn’t thought to refill it at the river after watering the crops, and her parched throat was making its protests known, while also reminding her that there wasn’t much water left at home either. One more thing to take care of when she was done.
A gruff cough brought her attention towards the old kobold resting his back against a tree some distance away, safely shaded from the unforgiving rays beaming down. Her displeasure at having yet more to do was hastily wiped away. She was undecided on what to think of the detached audience, but looking so sour while upholding her side of the agreement wouldn’t reflect well on her. Hopefully, he hadn’t seen it. Not that she could tell if he did; he always had the same expression when he watched her work. The elder kobold’s arms were crossed, a finger tapping absently against his bicep, while his tail sat motionless on the grass, the muddy red colour of his scales standing out amongst the greens and browns. ‘Makis,’ was his name, assuming her memory served.
Makis had taken to observing her every so often, usually propping himself against this or that at a distance, the unwavering scowl being as unnerving as it was belying of his age. Somewhat loose skin sagged a bit around his jowls and neck, yet the rest of his face was still taut from how much time he spent examining red-hot metal, and his arms were marred with countless burns and cuts from his profession. He held an oppressive aura, though the crinkles around his eyes and muzzle suggested he smiled as frequently as he glowered, even if Ceele was yet to see the former. There was only the same judgmental expression aimed at her when he was around. She could only hope that he didn’t take offence to some unintended slight, but she didn’t know him well enough to say what might be considered one.
They hadn’t spoken since she took up residence on the outskirts of his land. His wife was the one to introduce them, but it was quickly established that he had no intention of being a chatty individual. He led Ceele to the shed hidden amongst the trees on the edge of the property, then dismissed her with only a grunt coming from the elderly kobold. She supposed that it was for the best. Her experience in socializing was centred around convincing others to employ her, and there hadn’t been much of an opportunity to expand her horizons while living a life on the road. If that had been the end of their interactions, she would have swiftly written the terseness off, but he appeared every few days, taking up residence beneath the shade as he watched her work, never speaking a single word. At least he didn’t openly protest her presence, yet she figured that would be easier to manage. He wouldn’t be such an enigma then.
There wasn’t a whole lot she knew about him besides his penchant for ‘supervision,’ and anything beyond that was what his wife had volunteered during the rare opportunity they had to chat. She was told that Makis worked the smithy out front, and although he had retired from doing so in an official capacity, she could still regularly hear his hammer as she tended to the garden, so she figured he kept himself busy most days. It made her wonder what was so interesting about a vagrant like herself, but when there was so little else to do, she could see how anything could be made worth the attention. It was just him and his wife living in the once bustling home, after all; the couple’s children had long since grown up and made families of their own.
She noticed his gaze shift elsewhere as she tugged yet another stubborn intruder from the soil, his arms falling from across his chest and the perpetually worn displeasure melting to that of curiosity. He wandered off shortly after, and she had to make an effort not to fall onto her tail as the pressure on her shoulders unexpectedly evaporated. Did something happen?
Ceele shook her head free of the distracting thought. It wasn’t her business if he grew bored with watching her work. As long as no one voiced any complaints, she could only assume that she was doing a satisfactory job. Maybe he finally decided that he didn’t need to be so watchful because she was doing well! That could be it, right?
A glance at the somewhat sloppily maintained garden erased the false confidence from her face, but she was just as quick to focus on finishing up, unwilling to allow darker musings to fester. Thankfully, there didn’t seem to be anything else that needed her intervention. The weeds were all uprooted, the soil was appropriately dampened, and her check for pesky insects or wildlife turned up nothing to worry about. She was free for the rest of the day!
…Or she would be free—as soon as she finished the last of her tasks, anyway.
The black-scaled kobold got up from her crouch unsteadily, shivering and wincing from the pins and needles in her legs. She would have to remember to stretch more often; it was far too easy to forgo that kind of thing just to make the overall work go slightly faster. Her hand reached out to grab the pile of weeds and put them into the bucket as she ran through what needed to be done before she could properly relax. Hoppit’s food needed to be washed, she needed to bathe, and they were running low on water anyway, so she would have to visit the river. Just the thought of dragging herself into the forest again made her muscles protest, but she wouldn’t have the energy to do it later. She forced the smile that had started to fall and took the first of many steps.
- - - - -
The river wasn’t too far away, only taking a few minutes of traipsing through the dense woodlands until she reached her destination. It was an idyllic little spot. The trees thinned out to allow a grassy bank along the water, and there was an appreciably gentle slope from shallows to depths, making for a convenient place to take care of various needs. She had discovered this place during her travels, and it was where a kind older woman found her.
Ceele was washing off at the time, with Hoppit safely taking shelter from the outside underneath the bundled blankets while he waited. The trickle of the stream brushing against rocks covered the sound of footsteps, so she was rather surprised when an aged voice called out to ask if she was okay. Her first reaction was to distance herself and apologize—the why didn’t matter, but she had learned that most people were more lenient of her presence if she seemed apologetic for it, and she usually was. The elderly kobold just laughed at her scrambling, tacking on an assurance that there was no need for modesty. The woman was blind, apparently, which explained how Ceele’s blackened colours hadn’t deterred her.
Strangely enough, there was a comforting sense of ease around the one who introduced herself as Hira. It was a sort of presence that Ceele could only vaguely remember, and it drew her close enough to speak as she finished bathing. The conversation wasn’t anything profound, of course—they hardly delved deeper than surface-level small talk—but Hira lost her smile as she listened to the younger kobold. By the end of it, the old woman posed a series of questions with a dark inflection to her voice, and Ceele struggled to find an answer.
‘Are you tired of looking for something that only slips away? Are you tired of running? Do you really want to be scared and alone?’
If the silence bothered Hira, then it didn’t show. She had simply held out a hand and offered Ceele a way of life that didn’t involve wondering where she would be spending the night, nor entailed cowering in the brush while fearsome predators roamed freely. It would be a simple existence of few fortunes, but it was safe, and it was honest. All she had to do was say yes.
Ceele denied it at first, partially because she knew most people despised Hoppit's species, and partially because she couldn’t shake the offer being too good to be true. Hira was quick to propose a compromise; Ceele could take residence in the gardening shed that had fallen from use, and to satiate the nagging sense of an unfair deal, she would be put in charge of maintaining the garden itself. All Hira wanted was to ‘see’ her favourite space bloom again, since she couldn’t take care of it anymore. The black-scaled kobold stared longingly at where Hoppit was, his little body shivering from the prolonged cold and fear that he would be hurt if he left the blankets hiding him. It was with a heavy guilt that she accepted Hira’s offer, keeping quiet about her true reason for doing so.
That was in the past, however, though she thought about it every time she stopped by and saw the smooth rocks where she and Hira first met. Eventually, she might gather the courage to admit that she was housing a ‘pest’ and beg for forgiveness. Until then, she would just work her hardest to prove it wasn’t a mistake to give her a home. That her endless efforts weren’t meaningless. That Hoppit deserved to be more than a ‘pest.’
That Ceele was more than something she had no control over being.
She cleared her head a bit and started on the reason she came all this way. Her dress was rather easy to wash in the meandering water, and the trees provided a suitable place for it to dry in the sunlight and light breeze. The weeds were fine with a thorough rinse near in the shallows, but taking care of her own hygiene required her to wade farther in, though it only came up to her chest in the middle of the rill. Still, she could scrub off the soil and grime, which was all she really needed. Perhaps some simple soaps would help rid her of the pervasive black that stained her skin and scales, but that was beyond her meagre means for the time being, as well as being mere wishful thinking.
She worked past the dreary mindset that settled in when she allowed it, focusing on how serene the river was. The soft birdsong from the trees helped make for a peaceful experience, and she could feel the somewhat chilled liquid basically pour into the aches and pains throughout her body, washing away the stiffness from spending so long under the unerring sun. It was nice to escape reality and let thoughts drift while held buoyant by calmer waters.
Yet the bliss was short-lived. Even if winter was gone, spring was still far from warming the waters enough for her to laze about for too long. She dragged herself from the soft current and fetched her dress from the low-lying branch she left it to dry on. It was still a touch damp, but it wasn’t anything a bit of time in front of the fireplace wouldn’t fix.
Ceele was only a short distance away from home when she heard a gravelly male voice, but it was the flicker of sight between the trees that made her drop what was in her arms and lunge into a sprint.
Makis stood just outside the gardening shed, a ferrorabbit held at arm’s length by rusty crimson hands placed on the scruff and haunch, the rabbit’s little ears flattened as fear filled its tiny face. Her eyes widened further when she noticed the small stains of blood in his light brown fur. They found out about him. Ephemeral claws of blackness clutched at her soul, ripping the very fabric she was made of as an unseen beast smiled, eager to take yet one more thing from her. Her Hoppit. Her baby. Her everything.
“Hoppit!” she shrieked, her words all but tearing out of her throat in desperation. Frozen blood coursed through her veins, yet poured into exhausted limbs. She broke through the treeline with no regard for the branches slashing against her flesh, panic making each sting fade before it could be processed. The grizzled glare of the older kobold snapped towards her, his usual scowl picking up an actual air of intensity that she never thought could be absent, the promise of violence lurking in his eyes. She skidded to a stop a few paces away, the lump in her throat threatening to clog her airway. “S-stop hurting him!”
“Didn’t,” he barked back, his tone even yet firm. “Cuts ain’t me. I’d’a done worse if’a had ta mind ta.”
The blatant declaration snapped her from blind panic, although his apparent anger didn’t do her fear any favours. “B-but… Then how…”
“‘Hoppit.’ Named it, did’cha?” he grunted, ignoring her confusion and bobbing the rabbit to get her attention again. His gaze shifted back to the animal, the flames of ire cooling slightly. “I was wonderin’ why yer plots ain’t dead yet. Suppose this critter’s why.”
One of her hands hesitantly reached out until she pulled it back, while the other clutched at her chest to stop her heart from hammering against her ribs. She couldn’t act rashly. Not while her baby was in his arms. “I—”
“Soft thing, ain’t it,” the elder kobold commented curiously, cutting her off.
“Y-yes?” she returned reluctantly, struggling to stop herself from lashing out to reclaim the ferrorabbit in his grasp.
“Like fine silk.” Makis tipped and tilted the animal, inspecting this and that with a deep-seated frown, all while Hoppit silently looked to her for help. The pit in her stomach grew. She needed to get him back, but how?
Ceele swallowed the dense dread as she tried to formulate some sort of plan, stumbling over her words and forced smile. “I-it’s nice! Isn’t it nice?”
His eyes snapped back to burrow into her own with hatred. “Wasn’t a compliment, girly.”
“B-but you—”
He released Hoppit’s lower half to jab a claw at the various spikes around his body, plying them with minimal force. “Look. See this? These’r suppose ta break bone. ‘Specially when he’s stiff like this. Ain’t no way I should be able ta bend ‘em. He’s barely more than a walkin’ carcass—all skin ‘n stick. He’s gonna get picked up by a wandering pecker if he keeps pissin’ about out ‘ere. It’s a wonder he’s still kickin’. What’cha feeding ‘em?” His gaze dropped from her face to the rest of her, disgust curling his muzzle into a snarl. “N’ver mind. I can guess.”
She felt the dampness build at the edges of her vision, unprepared to not only worry for Hoppit's immediate health, but also to face such harsh criticism while she was so vulnerable. “I… I try to make sure he has…”
Makis crouched to release the ferrorabbit onto the ground, Ceele dropping to her knees the moment he did. The terrified lagomorph wasted no time, bolting towards his adoptive mother and leaping into her arms, shaking uncontrollably. The rust-coloured ‘bold stared as she started soothingly stroking the animal’s back.
“Yer given’ em the weeds, aren’t ya?” he stated rather than asked. She gave a teary nod when her voice wouldn’t respond for her. The old kobold drew a breath, letting it go in an exasperated sigh as he stood back up, his expression becoming more impatient than antagonistic. “What else?”
“I— Um…”
“What. Else?”
“W-whatever I c-can find!” she sputtered out. Hoppit tried to hide against her neck, prompting her to tighten her hold. She couldn’t stop herself from shrinking, the guilt and confusion pulling her head down. “R-roots, vegetables, fruits… I give them as often as I can.”
His glare continued unimpeded, his cadence cold. “That it?”
There were a million things Ceele wanted to say. A part of her wanted to beg him not to kick them out of the first safe place she had in longer than she could remember, but she couldn’t find the words. She wanted to deny the judgmental tone that stabbed into her insecurity surrounding how good of a job she was doing with Hoppit, but the deadened void in her chest swallowed her pride whole. She knew he was right to critique her. That she was failing in the only thing that mattered anymore. That the feeling of loss would return.
“I try,” she whispered through the beginnings of a sob. “I try to find more, but he needs someone around, and I have to work the garden, so there’s only so much time I can spend looking. He won’t even eat all of what I bring back…” Tears dripped off her cheeks as she aimed a desolate smile at her furry friend. “He wants to make sure I have some too.”
“Yer killin’ em,” Makis pointed out plainly, crossing his arms. “He’ll be dead ‘fore the summer at this rate.”
“I know!” she shouted, forcing back the memories of insidious murmurs that lurked in the back of her mind, eager to creep into her ears again. The hate-filled stares that followed her, the rumours that arrived in towns before she had the chance to make an impression, and the guilt that loomed over her like an executioner's axe… “I know I am… I just… I don’t know what he needs. I don’t know how to make him happy…but I try. I’m trying…”
“…Yer an idiot, girly.”
She looked up to see the elder kobold walking away without another word. Her eyes fell to Hoppit, the ferrorabbit pressing himself against her as much as he could. He was small, thin, soft, and growing weaker by the day, but he never let it keep him down for long. No, he always showed his best for her, giving her joy that wasn’t provided anywhere else. She saw the thin cuts and dried blood, though she didn’t know where they came from, nor how he got out of the shed in the first place. But that was okay. Hoppit was okay, and she had Hoppit, so everything was okay, right?
…But how much longer would everything stay okay? How much longer until her efforts weren’t enough, and she was left desperately reaching for fading memories of what once was? How much longer until she killed her baby too?
How much longer until she was alone again?
Soft footsteps drew near, pulling her from the spiralling thoughts that threatened to gnaw at her soul. Damp, blurry eyes fell on Makis returning with a small wooden crate, the older kobold stopping a few steps away. He dropped the box, a deep, rattling thud produced as it impacted the ground, making Hoppit flinch in her arms. Ceele blinked as she kept him calm, then blinked again, looking up at the man for answers.
“The name, girly,” he spat in irritation. “Ferrorabbit. Ther’ Earth aligned creatures; they need metals. They don’t care where they get it, but they need lots of it. Iron, copper, tin, lead—raw crystal, if they can find it. You name it, they’ll take a chunk out of it. It's why they bother farmers so much; the best soil’s usually top’a gem deposits, ‘n the little bastards have no issue burrowing deep to get it. Dries up the element’s energy ‘n makes the crops weak.”
Ceele’s mouth opened and closed, each unsuccessful attempt to speak making her feel smaller and smaller. More and more lost. Why was he telling her this? How did he know? What was in the—
He kicked the crate with the side of his foot. “Scraps. Don’t’cha look at me like that. I’m a smith, girly. I might be old and retired, but I still work a forge. Now, this ain’t anything pure—it’s just slag and hunks—but I’m sure the critter won’t mind. Your little gardenin’ project pays off, ‘n I’ll see which of my contacts can get in some better ore.”
She ripped her eyes away from the box and met the perpetual scowl of the old kobold, seeing a warmth behind the hostility that she had never noticed before. “…Why?”
He scoffed in amusement, which looked somewhat menacing on such a hardened expression. “Yer a touch stupid, girly, but the missus adores ya, ‘n yer a good worker.” A shadow of a smile formed on his face. “Hira spent more evenings asking ‘bout how the plots are doin’ than I got time in the day. She’d bite my head off if I noticed a critter like that sufferin’ and didn’t lend a hand. ‘Specially when it’s obvious you ain’t tryin’ ta hurt the thing.”
“B-but the garden… Isn’t he a problem?”
Makis rolled his eyes, turning with a dismissive wave of his hand. “If he was, he’da killed it by now. I’d say he’s been keepin’ the others clear ‘n got scratched up for the trouble. That’s more reason to feed ‘em right in my eyes; pay the poor bastard his dues.” He paused after a few steps, shooting her one last incredulous glance. “‘N the rabbit’s right. You’re not much better off than he is. Eat. Before the missus takes my head, preferably. I ain’t need ta hear her worryin’ over you more than I already do.”
And with that, he walked off back to the house, leaving Ceele to sit stunned on the ground with Hoppit quietly nuzzling into her.
“Hoppit…?”
The ferrorabbit perked an ear and gently licked her collar. Fresh tears ran rivulets down her face, yet they didn’t weigh her down. They felt freeing. She adjusted her hold on the rabbit and held him out, taking in the small cuts and numerous other injuries she had never noticed before. He stared back at her with worried eyes.
“You’ve been busy, huh?” she cooed quietly, doing her best to keep her voice from cracking. He shrunk in her hands. “I told you to stay home, baby. What if something happened to you? I wouldn’t know where you went, and…”
Her protests died out as she saw what was unmistakably guilt on his little face. She brought him back to her chest and cleared her throat.
“It’s alright, Hoppit. If… If you want to help momma, then we can work together, okay? Just…please don’t go off getting hurt… I don’t know what I’d do without you…” The rabbit didn’t reply, and she was pretty sure she had never heard him make any sounds that weren’t his happy little ear clacks, but she chose to interpret the nuzzling as an agreement. “Such a smart boy…”
She took a breath and wiped off the excess moisture from her cheeks, setting Hoppit down on the ground. “Let’s bring Mr. Makis’ gift in, and then I need to go get more water so we can clean you up, okay?”
He bounced his way to the door of their home, waiting patiently for her to lug the surprisingly heavy crate into the shed. He was even still behaving himself by the time she returned from picking up the things she dropped in her haste. There wasn’t a single protest from the ferrorabbit as she washed over his wounds with warm water, nor when she asked him to wait as she cut up a small salad for him using an extra portion of her rationed vegetables. Finally, once everything else was gone, she tentatively sifted through the box until she found a chunk of something that didn’t look so sharp, then offered it to Hoppit skeptically.
As startling as it was to see him bite through metal without issue, she couldn’t help but tear up again at how pleased he looked with the bizarre addition to his diet. He munched through the first piece, then stared at the box while pawing at the air, asking for more. She obliged through wet laughs, feeling lighter than she had since he first gazed at her from his burrow, alone and afraid, just like she was.
Her little baby was happy, and that made it okay.
Next
—
A/N: Thank you to my Patrons, new and returning! No Thanks, Emmanuel, and Megathor join the others who get to read 1 chap ahead!

My name is Rory Fars, and my little sister, Lily Fars, is the last family I had left.
A heavy sense of dread settled over me like a suffocating blanket as I sat in the worn leather seat of Lily's old jeep. The car, a relic of our happier days, seemed to groan under our shared sorrow. Beside me, Lily, my best friend, and confidante, absentmindedly twirled a strand of her long, dark hair, which swayed gently in rhythm with the haunting melodies from the oldies station on the radio. This car had seen us through countless joyful journeys when our family was whole. Almost three years had passed since that fateful Christmas trip in Texas when our parents were tragically killed in a horrific multi-car pileup. The memory of their loss was a constant ache, a wound that never fully healed.
My dad was from Amarillo, Texas, so my parents often took trips down there, visiting the places that held so many memories for him. During one of these trips, just before Christmas, a sudden blizzard struck while they were on the freeway. The snow fell in blinding sheets, making the world outside a disorienting white blur. As they tried to slowly pull to the side, their vision obscured by the relentless storm, they never saw the car barreling toward them at least forty miles an hour. The impact was devastating, an abrupt and brutal end to their journey and, in many ways, to our lives as we had known them.
My parents were always sticklers for safety, insisting on seatbelts every time we got in the car. So, of course, they had theirs on during that fateful trip. The initial impact wasn't what killed them, the coroner explained to me. Not even the first hit from behind, which was going at least fifty miles an hour, was fatal. I had to practically shake the information out of him—they were so resistant to tell me anything at first. By the time the third car hit, with an unknown speed, their survival was already in jeopardy. The coroner said that by the fifth car, they were likely dead. But it didn't end there. Another twenty-three vehicles slammed into the back of the pile, each collision further crushing their bodies, reducing them to a horrific, unrecognizable state. Each jarring impact pushed my parents deeper into a gruesome amalgamation of twisted metal and shattered lives.
I don't know why I felt compelled to demand those details at the time, but I deeply regret it now. I wish I had never asked. Almost every night, unless I drink myself into oblivion, I am haunted by nightmares of what they endured. I dream of driving up to save them, only to be caught in the same deadly barrage of cars, ending in a twisted metal tomb for all of us.
Lily is never in those dreams. Even in my most horrific imaginings, I can't envision her being hurt. Lily is my little sister, younger by eight years and three months. Whenever I mention our age difference, I see the judgment in people's eyes, but what can I say? Our parents never stopped loving each other. They had Lily late in life; she became our shared joy, our living reminder of the love that had bound our family together.
Lily wasn't my twin in the literal sense, but ever since she was born, it felt like we shared the inexplicable connection that twins often describe. As she grew up, our bond only deepened—we acted, sounded, and even looked remarkably alike. She became my rock, especially after our parents' tragic deaths. We leaned on each other, cried into each other's shoulders, and somehow found the strength to move forward. We eventually moved in together, finding solace in a two-bedroom apartment that became our sanctuary.
Lily seemed to handle our parents' deaths better than I did, or maybe she was just better at distracting herself with technology. Even before their passing, Lily was addicted to any kind of digital screen she could manipulate. Her ability to navigate the digital world was unmatched; she was the most intelligent person I had ever met. Her intelligence was a beacon of light in the darkness that had enveloped us, a testament to her resilience and brilliance.
After my parents' death, I embarked on a quest to find my spirituality by delving into paranormal investigations. I hoped these pursuits would bring me closer to my parents in the afterlife, spiritual realm, or whatever you want to call it. Instead, it created a chasm between me and any sense of spiritual existence. Each investigation seemed to push me further from the answers I sought, leaving me feeling more isolated and disconnected than ever.
I had hoped that by exploring these paranormal claims, I would discover a way to reach out to my parents and feel their presence again. Yet, as the years have passed, this endeavor has only deepened my loneliness and sense of loss. Despite knowing how detrimental it is to my mental health, I can't bring myself to stop. The hope that the subsequent investigation will be the one that proves the existence of an afterlife and that I'll find a way to contact my parents keeps me going. It's a desperate, unrelenting pursuit for a connection that remains heartbreakingly out of reach.
I should have accepted their death and moved on like any sane person would. Instead, I let my grief fester and dragged my sister and a stranger, Mark, through my obsessive quest for answers. My relentless pursuit of the paranormal didn't just alienate me; it consumed us all, leading to their untimely deaths. My name is Rory Fars, and I am here to confess my side of the story about the missing case of Lily Fars and Mark Lawrence.
This is the truth about how my desperate search for a connection with the afterlife led to a nightmare from which none of us could escape.
To start off, no, Lily was not a student of Mark's who fell in love with him and then got jealous of me hitting on him, leading her to kill him and herself. I know that sounds ridiculous, but given some wild theories circulating online, I need to address this one specifically since it seems to be the most popular.
First and foremost, Mark Lawrence was not, nor has he ever been, a professor at a university. Lily and I met Mark at the Local Museum in Redlin, a town nestled deep in the Appalachian Mountains. He was the curator of an exhibit showcasing the history of Raven's Nest, a forgotten mining town that neither Lily nor I had ever heard of. This is where our story begins, in a place steeped in history and mystery, far removed from the convoluted theories that now cloud the truth.
We were constantly searching for new ideas for our podcast about paranormal claims. Each of our twenty-five episodes so far had concluded with a rational explanation, so when Mark told us about the curse of Harper, I was immediately intrigued.
Mark was an older man, likely in his mid-sixties, with a full head of silver hair and a beard that stubbornly clung to its youthful color, only lightly dusted with grey. He had a presence that commanded attention, and his stories about the curse were delivered with an intensity that drew me in.
On the other hand, Lily was always more interested in the technical aspects of the paranormal. She had her own theories and was determined to debunk every claim we investigated. She wasn't easily swayed by Mark's tales about the curse of Harper, but she was willing to listen and give him a chance to prove himself. Her skeptical mind constantly checked my enthusiasm, and together, we hoped to uncover the truth behind yet another paranormal mystery.
"Hello ladies, care to hear about the mysterious town of Raven's Nest?" Mark asked with theatrical enthusiasm.
Lily and I exchanged a knowing glance, trying to stifle our amusement. Despite our attempts to remain composed, a smirk played at the corners of our lips.
"We're all ears," I replied, my tone laced with a hint of sarcasm.
He sighed, almost as if he was disappointed that we said yes. Taking a deep breath, he seemed to steel himself for the task ahead. "Well, you see," he began, his voice tinged with uncertainty, "in the early twentieth century, a man named Harper Franstein exploited many men and children in the coal mines. By the mid-1920s, he had established his own settlement in a secluded valley, which he dubbed 'The Raven's Nest.' It was never officially recognized as a town, but that's the only name we have to go off of."
I could see the beads of sweat forming on Mark's brow as he struggled to recall every detail. Despite his initial enthusiasm, he now appeared flustered, his confidence waning. Eventually, he resorted to consulting his damp and crumpled notes, a sign of his growing unease.
"Um, anyway, yeah, um," he stuttered, audibly gulping as his nerves got the better of him. Lily couldn't contain her laughter, emitting a snicker that earned us a glare from Mark.
"Hey, just relax," I interjected, trying to diffuse the tension. "We're not here to judge or intimidate you." With a gentle touch on his forearm and a chuckle, I attempted to reassure him, hoping to ease his obvious discomfort.
He paused, sharing a chuckle with me, while Lily struggled to suppress her laughter and eventually excused herself, leaving just Mark and me. Evidently, he felt more at ease with fewer listeners, so he pressed on with his narrative.
"Anyway," he resumed, "Harper held complete control over the town and the mine, and he made sure everyone was acutely aware of that fact. When the disappearances began, he tried to sweep them under the rug, attributing them to anything but his own negligence in mining practices."
"What do you mean by 'negligence in mining practices'?" I interjected, eager to delve deeper into his intriguing tale.
He looked up, clearly pleased by my question. "Yes, exactly," he affirmed. "Harper adhered to a mining technique outlined by Dwight Brunst in the mid to late nineteenth century. This method mandated only one entry and exit point into the mine."
"Wait, so they were forbidden from creating additional exits?" I pressed for clarification.
"Not explicitly," he explained. "The practice advocated for just one entry and exit as it was believed to minimize the risk of cave-ins, at least in theory. However, there were instances where miners, feeling uneasy about this restriction, took matters into their own hands and carved out what they called 'Emergency Exits' for themselves. After about half of the town started going missing, Harper couldn't take criticism about how he responded, but most people say he was losing money quickly and didn't want to live in a world where he was poor. He walked into the mine, never to be seen again, much like the cave's past victims. Visitors report seeing and hearing Harper, trying to get them to leave."
As I stood there, listening to Mark's enthralling narrative, I found myself captivated by the mysterious allure of Raven's Nest. Unable to contain my curiosity, I decided to pose a question.
"So, what does the town look like now?" I inquired, eager to learn more about the present state of this enigmatic place.
Mark's demeanor shifted slightly as he rifled through his notes, a subtle indication that he didn't have a straightforward answer to my query.
"You've never been there?" I asked, my tone softening with genuine curiosity.
He flinched as though my question had struck a nerve. "Shhhhhh... shut up," he demanded, his voice tinged with unease.
Suppressing a chuckle, I leaned in closer and whispered, "Okay, hear me out. My sister Lily and I are investigating paranormal phenomena. Your story about Raven's Nest sounds like the perfect addition to our podcast. What do you say we compensate you for your guidance? Let's say, three hundred bucks?"
He straightened up, contemplating my proposition for a few moments. Without uttering a word, he extended his hand, and I met it halfway with my own, sealing our agreement with a firm handshake.
Our journey to Raven's Nest was no easy feat. Situated a good twenty miles from town and nestled deep within a dense valley. After all of the tight turns, narrow dirt roads, and steep inclines, it took us a grueling two and a half hours to go twenty-something miles, but we finally reached the outskirts of the infamous settlement. As we stood at the edge of the "Nest," anticipation mingled with trepidation, setting the stage for the eerie exploration that lay ahead.
I glanced at my phone; the time read 11:56 pm, signaling the late hour. Sensing the exhaustion weighing heavily, I suggested we catch a few hours of rest in Lily's jeep. Mark, though visibly unsettled, remained silent from the back seat, his arms folded tightly across his chest as he slumped against the window like a sulking child.
Drifting asleep in the passenger seat, I soon found myself ensnared in a nightmare. In my dream, Mark was being dragged away into the darkness, his desperate attempts to claw his way back to safety only resulting in broken fingertips. Despite his struggles, he was powerless against the unseen force pulling him inexorably into the abyss. Suddenly, I was alone, engulfed in utter darkness, my heart pounding with fear as I ran blindly from an unseen terror that seemed to pursue me relentlessly, its malevolent presence palpable but unseen.
I jolted awake, gasping for breath, my heart racing as the remnants of dread lingered in the pit of my stomach. It was morning, and I was struggling to adjust my vision. Lily's frantic but comforting voice broke through the haze of my terror, grounding me in reality. With her comforting embrace, I gradually calmed my racing thoughts, drawing deep, steadying breaths.
As we sat there, enveloped in each other's embrace, Mark approached the driver's side window with an unexpected question, "Alright, what's for breakfast?" His nonchalant tone and casual demeanor were a stark contrast to the harrowing nightmare that had just consumed my thoughts, momentarily dispelling the lingering specter of fear that had haunted my dreams.
Lily and I both look up at him and back at each other as we burst out into laughter.
Amidst our shared laughter, Lily and I exchanged amused glances before turning our attention back to Mark.
"Ha...ha, yeah. No, but seriously, what's for breakfast? Eggs, bacon, toast, at least?" Mark pressed, hoping for a more substantial response.
His earnest inquiry fueled our laughter further, our giggles echoing through the quiet night air. Eventually, we regained our composure and stepped out of the jeep, stretching our limbs after the cramped confines of the vehicle.
Mark awkwardly moves to the side, still waiting for an honest answer. Lily tossed him a granola bar, eliciting a bemused chuckle from him. With a shared understanding, we set off on foot, embarking on the hike into the town.
The path ahead was clear: a single dirt road that wound its way from the abandoned coal mine into the heart of the small settlement. The road, now overgrown and muddy from years of disuse, bore the marks of neglect and isolation. Wary of the treacherous conditions, Lily opted to forgo the risk of getting stuck, steering clear of the decrepit road that likely hadn't seen a traveler in at least half a century.
We parked Lily's jeep at the entrance to both the mine and the town of Raven's Nest, opting to proceed on foot from there. Standing at the mountain's peak, gazing down at the desolate town below, I couldn't help but ponder the history beneath the dilapidated structures. I imagined how this valley must have once been a pristine landscape cherished by the indigenous people who roamed its lush terrain.
"Jesus, this place is more like a shit nest," Mark muttered in disgust, his disdain evident in his tone.
Lily shot me a knowing glance, silently communicating her skepticism toward Mark's assessment of the town.
Deciding to put Mark's knowledge to the test, I casually inquired, "So, what year was this area founded?"
Mark's reaction was almost defensive as if my question had caught him off guard. He hesitated momentarily before fumbling for his note cards in his pocket, a telltale sign that he wasn't as knowledgeable as he let on.
Before he could respond, I interjected with another question, "Mark, how long have you worked at the museum?"
As Mark froze, his gaze locking onto mine like a deer caught in headlights, I watched him closely, waiting for any sign of hesitation or discomfort. My narrowed eyes bore into his, silently urging him to be honest.
Finally, breaking the tense silence, Mark confessed, "Look, this is only my first week. I... I haven't had the greatest time lately, and I really need the extra money. I'm sorry I lied, but I'll help however I can."
I met his gaze unwaveringly, sensing the sincerity in his words. Clearly, he was a man in need of redemption, grappling with his own personal struggles.
"Alright, alright, don't cry too much," I teased lightly, trying to ease the tension. Gesturing towards Lily, who was busy preparing her wireless motion cameras in her backpack, I continued, "Lily and I already figured that was the case. Honestly, we're surprised you agreed to come along."
Mark remained frozen, but the tension seemed to melt away from his expression, replaced by a tentative smile. It was a moment of shared understanding, a silent acknowledgment that he was still welcomed into our expedition despite his initial deception.
"Alright, I have the cams and portable batteries to make sure the cameras and anything we have with power can last," Lily said, her voice brimming with determination.
We began our descent into the town, our hiking boots struggling against the thick, clinging mud produced by the constant light rain and years of disuse. Each step was a battle, the mud threatening to swallow our boots with every move.
After an eternity of trudging through the muck, we finally reached the town's only paved road—the main road. It had taken us only about fifteen minutes to hike down, but navigating the muddy slope had sapped our energy. We paused for a break, taking a few minutes to clean off our boots and catch our breath.
As we rested, I noticed Lily rummaging through her bag with a focused intensity. Curious, I asked, "What are you looking for?"
"I brought five motion-detecting cameras that I want to set up strategically throughout the town," she replied, pulling out one of the cameras. She walked over to the nearest building, a structure that served as a post office, police station, and fire station. She positioned the camera outside the building so it was pointed at the only road leading in and out of the town.
"We need to cover all potential points of interest," she explained, securing the camera in place. "This one will monitor any activity on the main road. We should place the other cameras around key locations like the mine entrance, the town square, and some more intact buildings."
I nodded, appreciating her thoroughness. "Good idea. We need to make sure we capture anything unusual."
Mark, having finally caught his breath, joined us. "Alright, let's get these cameras set up and see what we can find," he said, a hint of excitement in his voice.
"Look," Lily said, turning her tablet screen toward us. She waved her hand in front of the camera she had just placed. The tablet displayed five squares on the interface, each meant to show a feed from one of the cameras. Since Lily had only set up one camera so far, only the bottom right square showed any footage pointed at the road leading out of town. She stopped waving her hand, and the feed went to a blue screen.
"What happened? Did we lose connection?" Mark asked frantically, his eyes wide with concern.
Lily cackled, struggling to contain her amusement. Composing herself, she waved her hand in front of the camera again, and the bottom right square showed her hand waving once more. "It's motion-activated. It's the best way to save on battery life," she explained.
Mark seemed to relax, though he was still catching his breath after the brief panic.
I glanced at my watch, noting the time. "It's 8:30. We're behind schedule. If you want to place the rest of your cameras, we better move now," I said, walking down the street.
Lily immediately got up and followed me, with Mark struggling to keep pace behind us. We reached the market building, and Lily positioned her second camera on the side of the road, pointing up at the market.
It's not much longer before we make it to the Town Hall. I suggest Lily place a camera nearby. She nods and heads into a building across from the Town Hall labeled, "Slaughterhouse: LOCAL ANIMALS ONLY."
As Lily explores the building to find an adequate spot for the camera, I wait for Mark to catch up. While I wait, I can't help but imagine this town in its prime, picturing the streets filled with families who loved each other.
My thoughts are abruptly cut off by a sound echoing in the distance—a roar unlike any I've ever heard. It was a mix of a human screaming in pain, the roar of a lion, and, near the end, the howl of a wolf. The chilling sound sent shivers down my spine.
I jump to my feet and immediately call out, "Lily, you okay?"
There's no response from Lily, but I'm interrupted by Mark finally catching up, panting heavily.
"Holy... shit... did you... hear that?" Mark said frantically between breaths.
"Yeah, we have to find Lily," I say, bolting into the slaughterhouse. I glance back to see Mark bracing himself on the steps of the Town Hall, struggling to keep up.
As I enter the building, the stench of rotting flesh hits me like a wave, causing me to gag. The smell is too fresh to be decades old.
"Lily? Lily, where are you?" I yell, using my shirt to shield my nose from the overwhelming odor.
"Rory, I'm in here!" I hear Lily yell from a room two doors down. I pass the first door, peeking in to ensure I hadn't misheard, but I wish I hadn't looked.
Inside the first room, I catch a glimpse of what appears to be a pile of animal carcasses, their decayed bodies arranged in a grotesque display. The sight is horrifying, the flesh still disturbingly fresh. The bile rises in my throat, but I force myself to focus on finding Lily.
I rush to the room where her voice came from, pushing the door open. Lily is there, setting up the camera, seemingly oblivious to the horror in the adjacent room. Relief floods through me as I see she's safe.
"Lily, did you hear that roar?" I ask, trying to keep my voice steady.
"Yeah, I heard it," she replies, her eyes wide with concern. "I was just finishing up here. Let's get back to Mark and figure out what that was." She had placed the camera in a window, pointing directly at the Town Hall.
We hurry back outside, where Mark still catches his breath as we meet between the buildings. "We need to stay together from now on," I say firmly, looking at both of them. "Whatever that noise was, it's not something we want to face alone."
"Let's check out the Town Hall!" Mark says excitedly as he slowly clambers through a broken window.
"Did he not just hear what I said?" I mutter under my breath, shaking my head in disbelief.
Lily gives me a shrug, her eyes reflecting a mix of amusement and exasperation. "Guess we're heading into the Town Hall then," she says, adjusting her backpack and walking towards the broken window.
I sigh and follow suit, hoisting myself up and carefully maneuvering through the jagged glass. Inside, the air is musty, filled with the scent of old paper and decaying wood. Dust motes float lazily in the beams of sunlight streaming through the cracked windows.
The main hall is vast and eerily silent, with rows of empty chairs facing a stage draped in tattered curtains. The walls are lined with faded portraits and yellowed maps of the town, remnants of a time when this place was alive and bustling.
Mark is already at the front, examining a large, decrepit desk. "Look at this," he says, his voice echoing in the empty space. "It's like stepping back in time."
I walk over, glancing at the old papers scattered across the desk. Most are mundane—meeting minutes, maintenance logs—but one catches my eye. It's a letter dated June 1925, addressed to Harper Franstein.
"Harper, the disappearances are becoming more frequent. The townsfolk are getting restless, and I fear they may take matters into their own hands if we don't act soon. We need to find out what's causing this before it's too late."
I read the letter aloud, and the room fell silent. "Sounds like things were getting pretty tense," Lily remarks, her voice subdued.
As I'm distracted by the time capsule in front of us, Mark sneaks off.
I'm not sure how long it was before she noticed, but I saw Lily looking around before saying, "Where the hell did Mark go?" breaking me out of my trance.
I look around, turning my head in all directions, and shrug at Lily. I hear shuffling in the second room down the hall, so I slowly walk toward it.
"Mark?" I call out.
Just then, a loud crash reverberates through the building, making it sound like the whole place was about to come down.
We run in and see Mark struggling to keep himself from falling into a giant hole that must've broken under his weight. Trying not to laugh, I glance at Lily. We help him up as he dramatically falls onto his back, wheezing as he catches his breath.
Lily and I can't contain our laughter anymore as we bust out laughing hard. Startled by our sudden outburst, Mark jumps in fear. He looks around, confused for a few seconds, before realizing that we are laughing at him.
"Jesus, thanks, I guess," he says, clearly thankful but annoyed by our reaction.
After we contained ourselves, we headed back outside, exiting through the window Mark entered through. He struggles to climb out, but after Lily gives him a hand, he is safely out of the Town Hall.
"Alright, Ror, where should we put the next camera?" Lily asks me.
I stop to think momentarily, trying to picture the town's layout. "I think the only place left is the neighborhood," I respond confidently. I always talk like that with Lily. Over the years, I've realized she is the only person I can have that much confidence around. With anyone else, I'm worried about saying something stupid or wrong or how they'll view me, but with my sister, everything is easy.
As I look at the replica map of the town in its heyday from the museum, I determine that the neighborhood is to the East. "Okay, looks like we head East past the Library. Let's go." I say, walking away.
It only takes about eight minutes to get to the long strip of road that housed the town's workers. According to the map, there were fifteen houses along this strip of road.
The houses stand eerily silent, their wooden frames weathered and decayed by time. We walk down the road, our footsteps crunching on the gravel and echoing in the stillness. The air feels heavier here like the past is watching us, waiting to reveal its secrets.
"Let's put the last cameras on that house at the end of the road," I suggest, pointing to a house that looks slightly less dilapidated than the others, "another one at the last house on the other side, and the last we can save for a spot you choose."
Lily nods and heads toward the first house, pulling another camera from her backpack. She sets it up on the porch, positioning it to capture the entire street, and does the same in the opposite house. As I stand with Mark breathing hard, still unable to catch his breath since we first got here, I can't shake the feeling that we're being watched. I glance around nervously but see nothing out of the ordinary.
"All set," Lily says, breaking my reverie, "Still no ideas for the last cam?" Lily asks me.
"Like I said, wherever you think it would be best. I feel like we have enough good spots and angles, so go wild with that one," I told her.
She smirked and kept walking next to me. Mark was still struggling behind, but after the town hall mishap, he was trying his best to keep up. I looked at my watch, and it read '12:30 pm'.
"Holy shit, it's already 12:30," I said in amazement, but no one else seemed fazed. It felt like we'd only been here thirty minutes, not almost four hours.
We walked back down the street. Lily and I had been discussing on the walk that she should put the last camera at the town's only stoplight in front of the Library.
As we made our way to it, I could have sworn I was seeing something moving fast past my vision in the corner of my eye. Every time I turned to look, it was gone. I chalked it up to being my imagination until Lily and Mark both experienced the same thing.
"What the fuck was that?" Mark asked as he ducked, bracing for something terrible to happen. Lily and I looked back at him and then at each other as we shrugged. It was after that that I started seeing things, too.
I confided in Lily about the unsettling visions and sounds, and she admitted she had experienced the same phenomena but had kept quiet, fearing Mark would dismiss her as paranoid.
"Well, it's probably just a cat or something," I said, attempting to downplay the situation, but neither seemed convinced.
We continued our trek, and I noticed that the more we walked, the more frequently I caught fleeting glimpses of movement in my peripheral vision. It was beginning to grate on my nerves.
Finally, we reached the light in front of the Library. As Lily mounted the camera, I felt a sense of satisfaction. We were making good progress, and it seemed like a suitable moment to start exploring the town more freely. We decided to split up and cover different sections of the town.
"Wait, we have to go alone? Why can't we stay together like you said?" Mark asked frantically, but Lily and I ignored him as we headed in separate directions. He continued to protest, but we paid him no mind. Eventually, I was either far enough away to not hear him anymore, or he had given up. Either way, I was happy to enjoy the eerie silence of the town.
As I wandered, the stillness of Raven's Nest enveloped me. With its decrepit buildings and overgrown streets, the town exuded an unsettling charm. It was as if I had stepped into a forgotten world, a place frozen in time with secrets waiting to be unearthed. The ambiance reminded me of an amusement park's haunted town section—artificially eerie yet irresistibly intriguing. Despite the creepiness, the mysterious vibe of the town kept me engaged and eager to explore its hidden corners.
I glanced at my watch again, only to find the time glaring back at me: 3:19 pm. It couldn't be right. There was no way it had been that long since I last checked. Panic seized me, and I called out for Lily, my voice tinged with urgency. She appeared beside me in a matter of minutes, her expression mirroring my concern.
"What's up, Ror? You okay?" she asked, her voice laced with worry.
"How long would you say it's been since you put the last camera down?" I inquired, my heart pounding in my chest.
Lily's brow furrowed as she struggled to come up with an answer. "Uh, I don't know, thirty minutes?" she hazarded a guess.
I held up my watch, displaying the time: 3:20 pm. Lily fell silent, her eyes widening in disbelief. She was never great with time, but missing almost three hours of our memory was unprecedented.
"There's no way. Your watch must be—" Lily began, her voice trailing off as she checked her own watch, only to freeze in shock when she found it displayed the same time as mine.
"Lil, something is going on," I stated, my voice tight and apprehensive. I glanced up at the sky, my stomach churning as I noticed the clouds darkening and rolling in from all sides of the valley.
The sky closed rapidly, ominous clouds obscuring the sun as thunder rumbled ominously against the mountains.
"Mark? Mark, where are—" I began to call out, but before I could finish, Mark emerged from behind a wall, appearing as if he'd been too frightened to venture far on his own.
"We have to get inside!" Mark exclaimed urgently, his voice tinged with fear.